Ben and the Beanstalk

Awhile back I thought it would be quaint, if not even Christianly of me to buy a bird feeder. I could enjoy the wonderful creation that God made, and feed the little birdies that lived within my jurisdiction. It was a huge success. Within hours of filling the new Audubon friendly feeder, there were several interested and hungry little birds tentatively eyeing the all-you-can-eatery that just opened up in the neighborhood. By the next morning we were happily watching several sparrows eating breakfast alongside us. That afternoon, several more had found the hidden cache. "What a great new addition to our patio", I said outloud to our family, congratulating myself on my motherhood and avian philanthropy. It was just about at that time that I discovered our cache of birdseed was becoming precipitously low. I filled the feeder again, and began to calculate the cost of my generosity. By the next morning our birdfeeder was aflutter with gangs of aggressive and panicking sparrows, all vying for the limited handout of what was apparently to them the filet mignon of the seed world. No other bird could come close to our feeder. Cardinals and songbirds who had once inhabited our yard, now were no where to be found. The sparrows had militarily run off all other species and were now turning in on themselves. We watched at breakfast, unable to turn away, while they sliced at each other with desperate wingstrokes and pecked at the weak and small among their numbers. We began referring to them as "those Ratbirds", and I was forced to consider cutting their supply off completely. I visited a bird-and-seed store and was given advice (from a lady with a bird on her shoulder) to buy a different type of seed to keep the ratbirds at bay and welcome other more amenable varieties. But to my chagrin, the ratbirds, in a glutinous frenzy, begun using their beaks like little mini shovels to scoop out the "bad seed" on to the patio. In just under an hour my expensive specialty mix was lying all over the ground, and the ratbirds were restlessly waiting for the next refill. Thus ended my birdfeeder project. But unbeknownst to me, Benjamin had scooped up some of the errant birdseed and surreptitiously planted them in a bed of weeds near our apartment. Day by day those little seeds morphed and grew into sprouts, then small plants and finally into the massive sunflowers you see above. Congratulations Ben!