Shortly after I started filling my bird feeders in early winter, I was delighted to see a female cardinal eating. They are favorites of mine, with a subtle beauty that pleases my artistic senses better than the gaudy males’ plumage. This one hung around all winter, and I gave her the not-very-original name Mrs. Cardinal. As time passed, I began to feel sorry for her, as it seemed “Mrs.” was not the correct honorific for her. Where was her mate? Had she ever had one? Poor thing, all alone in the world!
Around the middle of December I finally glimpsed a male cardinal in the yard. At last, a suitor for Mrs. Cardinal! The problem was, they totally ignored each other. Among the flocks of juncos, woodpeckers, and chickadees feeding all around them, they were the only birds of their kind using my feeding area, but seemed unaware of that fact. Now the question was, were they waiting for spring and the urgings of their hormones, or was she just playing hard-to-get?
It was on Valentine’s Day I finally saw them interacting. They were within a foot of each other, alone on my ground-feeding spot. She was watching him as he pecked at a sunflower seed, cocked his head at her, and began to hunker down, almost assuming the baby-bird-begging-for-food position that is a large part of the courtship ritual for many birds.
“Aww!” I thought. “Mrs. Cardinal is finally going to get her Mister, and on Valentine’s Day, too! Love is in the air.”
That’s when things got complicated. A fluttering in a nearby sapling drew my eye. To my surprise, there was a second female cardinal there. Was it my imagination, or was she looking daggers at the tableau on the ground? I distinctly heard the “dramatic discovery” organ music of an old soap opera. Then she launched into flight and dive-bombed Mrs. Cardinal. Or should I now call her, Miss Cardinal, the interloper in what was obviously a long-established marriage? The “other woman!” Miss Cardinal flew away, and the Missus rounded on her mate with battering wings.
“You cad! Two-timing me, are you? Take this, and this!” She goaded the poor hen-pecked (are female cardinals called “hens,” I wonder?) male into flight, buzzing and berating him as they left.
The tragedy-laden closing music of the soap opera swells, as I wonder what lies in store for Mr. Cardinal after his momentary surrender to temptation; And, did Miss Cardinal know she was luring a married man into infidelity? Will she ever find love? I may never know the answer, for even if their soap opera continues, it’s not likely to be where I can watch.
I was left with a smile on my face, though, for the privilege of enjoying a Valentine’s Day Special, Potter County style.
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