Fortunate Fowl

We have been feeding our local birds for several years now. I've written before about my questions of whether this practice is good for them or not. On the positive side, we offer them sunflower seeds, which are packed with fat and nutrients. We've observed our local birds sometimes parenting three broods in the summer—which is a good indication they are healthy. On the negative side, it's possible to spread disease if the offered food becomes contaminated. In addition, the feeders can attract hawks. All in all, I've concluded that feeding our birds is helpful to them. The readily available high-quality food gives them quality nutrition and we've noted few hawks coming around.

We have a contingent of birds that reside here all year long, and constantly partake of our offering of seeds. There are other species that migrate through from time to time—stopping to fill up on the offered goodies, before they continue on their travels. 
 
I sometimes wonder, however, about another possible impact of feeding our local birds: Might we be contributing to their laziness? Birds who inhabit the surrounding deep woods must work far harder to feed themselves, than our fortunate fowl. A bird must consume a large number of calories each day, in order to survive. The expression “eat like a bird” suggests that they consume a modest amount of food, but if they weighed as much as a person, they'd need to eat over 6,000 calories of food every day!

So our pampered birds definitely have it easy. They can devour their daily intake in a fraction of the time that forest birds do. A few minutes at the feeder and then they can goof off the rest of the day. I wonder what they do with all that leisure time. Do they make productive use of it? Do they just lounge on their perches, or do they engage in fruitful activities? Do they discuss bird philosophy? Do they get involved in art projects? Are they at all appreciative of the golden opportunity they've been given and thus devote time to the loftier pursuits of life, or to helping their fellow birds? Or are we just contributing to their indolent lifestyle?

Then I worry about making them overly dependent and helpless. What would they do if we went away for a couple of weeks in the dead of winter? Could they survive without their daily alms? Have they lost the ability to take care of themselves?

And there's yet more to worry about. Wild birds dine on a variety of food sources—seeds of all sorts, bugs, plant material, etc. Are these wild cousins getting a more balanced diet and thus actually healthier in the long run? A fare of exclusively sunflower seeds may not be giving our local birds the balanced nutrition they require. In the summer they can supplement our offerings with bugs and thus ingest a variety of protein, but in the winter they dine on a monotonous diet.

Oh, what tangled webs we weave, when first we ask them to receive... our humble offerings. The ramifications of a simple act of generosity can be so complex. Maybe I should go consult and avian nutritionist.