
Our home is being terrorized by Little Birds.
It started a little over a year ago when “Little Bird Family” moved into our free-standing, stainless steel patio heater. It was late summer when these hardy cactus wrens began unloading the tall grasses, random twigs and bits of plastic that were their worldly possessions into this de-luxe apartment in the sky.
When you think about it, the free-standing, stainless steel patio heater is the penthouse of avian condominiums – especially when compared to the outhouse of birdie living: the multi-family dwelling in a random tree, shrub or buckhorn cactus. The patio heater sits under our porch, protected from the rain and sun; it’s tall and slippery enough to deter climbing predators; and it’s owned by two big-hearted sapsuckers that couldn’t bring themselves to incinerate a pair of fine, upstanding examples of the State Bird of Arizona and their fledgling family – especially since it was 104 degrees out and the property was essentially vacant.