A big old bird feeder stood on a pole in a little side yard outside my Grandmother’s breakfast nook. It turned with the wind, protecting its contents and patrons from rain and snow. I learned about winter feeding birds from Mom’s and Grandmother’s exclamations: “Oh look at the Cardinal” or “Those are Chickadees.”
Mom practically begged Pap for a feeder like her mother’s. He looked for years for construction plans or ready built feeders he could buy. He found plans.
Pap was a fair wood worker when he took time for it. Must have taken him a year working at