Compostable Matter

It's a nice winter morning - sunny, low forties - and our bird feeders are utterly devoid of diners. The past several days, all with weather similar to this, I've barely had the need to replenish any sunflower seed.

On a previous Sunday, the latest snowstorm of the century, the feeding stations were overrun by assortments of titmouses, nuthatches, juncos, finches, chickadees, cardinals, woodpeckers and squirrels - hanging on tight in feather-rustling wind, squinting their eyes against fast-paced flurries, digging desperately for fallen food in rapidly drifting white stuff.

Now only starlings on the suet.

Are the rest just fowl weather friends?