The most aggressive of the birds is a Rufous that I have named, Roofuss. I mean, obviously. He is a mean mother*%#&er who is determined to keep the lesser birds from his sweet, sweet nectar. I take a lot of pleasure in watching the less mean-but clearly more intelligent-birds cooperate in luring him away while taking turns feeding. You would think that Roofuss would figure it out, but, not so much.
I know that the season is rapidly coming to an end and that I will be storing the feeders away sooner rather than later, so, I am enjoying the show as often as possible while contemplating the purchase of additional feeders for next year.
Wait, that's how it starts, right? Bird hoarding? What's next? Stacks of newspapers lining the hallways? Maybe I need to rethink this.
Side note: I refilled that feeder yesterday. These kids are eating me out of house and home.