A cardinal tapping, tapping at my window

Published 9:10 am Wednesday, June 2, 2010

I enjoyed reading the works of Edgar Allen Poe.

“Enjoyed” might not be the right word. Poe scared the dickens out of the boyhood me. There weren’t enough oats in the world to feed all the nightmares I had after reading Poe.

Poe wrote in his famous piece of literature, “The Raven,” “Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. ‘’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, tapping at my chamber door — Only this, and nothing more.”

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Later Poe introduced the visitor, “Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door — Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door — Perched, and sat, and nothing more.”

One afternoon, while I pondered weak and weary, While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my window.

I thought of Poe’s raven, but hoped for the bird written about by Robert Louis Stevenson. “A birdie with a yellow bill, Hopped upon the window sill, Cocked his shining eye and said: ‘Ain’t you ’shamed, you sleepy-head.’”

I did a CSI Minnesota. That investigation revealed that my tapping rapper was a beautiful male cardinal. A small bird hitting the window in a big way. Robins, orioles, chipping sparrows, and great crested flycatchers are other birds that have assaulted my windows. A bluebird took a few shots at his reflected image one day. A friend had a wild turkey doing battle with his reflection in a basement window.

The cardinal flung itself against the window as if he were wanted in five states. This action delighted our two housecats, Ethel and Purl. Our cats are the definition of housecats. They don’t set a paw outdoors. The cats’ analyst tells me that Ethel and Purl are as normal as anyone who lives with me could be expected to be. I digress.

The redbird battered my window because he had issues. Birds fight with their images in windows because their brains aren’t sending a memo saying, “Stop it! That’s you!” They are fighting with themselves. Before you think that’s strange, realize that we fight with ourselves each day. The “Should I have a piece of pie or should I stick with my diet” conflict is fought daily in finer restaurants nationwide.

Birds believe the mirrored images to be a threat to territory and battle them with a fury. The battles are usually waged by males (that’s how we roll) but females will join the fray.

I calmly asked the cardinal, “Why can’t we all just get along?”

The skirmish continued as a bird’s image in a mirror is not easily intimidated. Most attacks last no more than a few days; some are triggered during periods of the day when the light is just right to produce a reflection. Some birds stretch the combat out to weeks.

The birds dirty the window, leaving prints of bills and wings. A window waits in hope that one day, its prints will come.

Sometimes the attacking birds act as feathered alarm clocks, saving a homeowner money. When a bird wakes you, you can unplug the clock radio and save on the electric bill.

Should I have enrolled the cardinal in an anger management class? Should I have attempted to break up the image of his perceived foe in the glass? I could have done that by soaping the outside of the window but my artistic pattern would have tipped off the neighbors as to who had been soaping their windows each Halloween. I could have put cardboard over the outside of the glass and listened for Martha Stewart’s shudder. I could have placed a screen or plastic wrap held in place by my favorite home repair tool, duct tape, over the glass. It’s important to cover the outside of the window. Pulling the drapes or closing the blinds would likely enhance the mirrored image.

Plastic owls are marketed to discourage bird activity. Birds may not be able to discern themselves in a mirror but they quickly figure out that a plastic owl is a threat to only plastic birds.

I opted for patience. The cardinal’s wrath subsided.

Poe wrote, “Quoth the raven, ‘Nevermore.’”

My cardinal said to the window, “Nevermore” and got on with his life.

Poe had his rapping raven. I had mine.

Mine was red.

Hartland resident Al Batt’s columns appear every Wednesday and Sunday.