Life really is for the birds

'Everyone likes birds. What wild creature is more accessible to our eyes and ears, as close to us and everyone in the world, as universal as a bird?' 

— Sir David Attenborough

AUBURN, Maine — I have been watching an air show in my front yard from the comfort of my parlor couch for the past five years.

The year-round show goes on outside my picture window.

I watch organic gliders fall from the ski and come in for a smooth landing at my bird feeder. I also hung a tin grate of suet for birds that enjoy gourmet food. There is a liquid feeder on hand for diminutive hummingbirds that come and go like a mild breeze.

My front yard could use an air traffic controller from Logan Airport to keep these hungry buzzards from bouncing off my picture window.

My yard is the perfect habitat for these winged creatures. The front section of the property is surrounded by thick hedges, which provides privacy for us and cover for the birds that hide inside the thicket from cats and other predators.

You know birds are on their way when they line up on the top of hedges and act as lookouts for their feathered friends heading for the feeder.

We have all types including: nuthatches, robins, cardinals, blue jays, a variety of woodpeckers, catbirds and a pair of mockingbirds that are the neighborhood bullies. Mockingbirds sing their hearts out for all of us, but they are aggressive and a bossy pair. They chase away other birds. I have seen them dive bomb the squirrel as it scaled the feeding pole to go after the suet.

Mockingbirds think they own my hard, and you know what, they really do.

They are nasty to their fellow vertebrates but what a sweet tune they carry when they sing for all of us.

The other day, a large woodpecker the size of crow touched down in my cherry tree and began hammering away at the branch. It is called pileated woodpecker. My wife has become an amateur ornithologist and looks up the names of each visiting bird. 

A bird feeder is great for live entertainment. We have this fat SOB of a squirrel that goes after the suet. We knock on the window to scare it off, but it gives us an annoying look and goes right on stuffing its fat face with suet.

I retaliated. Suet costs money and the good birds of Androscoggin County deserve a descent meal.

Sure, squirrels are handsome rats, but to hell with the rodents, I say — especially since I am footing the bill for the pillaging for my bird seed.

I armed myself with olive oil at first, but that became an expensive weapon of choice. I switched to cooking oil and greased the pole with the slick, black stuff.

I waited for the squirrel to strike. He slipped into the yard and bounced on over to the pole. He made his ascent, and every time it tried climbing to the top, the son of bitch slid back down.

I was rolling on the ground with glee at the level of frustration in its face. The disgusted rat gave up after 30 minutes to the laughter of all of us.

The birds were mighty pleased to see the fury suet robber call it quits.

It really is amazing that a bag of bird seed and hunk of suet can draw some of nature’s finest entertainers from around the Northeast.

Welcome to the show that never ends.

Wings of Eagles

The B-17 bomber sits on the runway at Lewiston-Auburn airport. 

This Constellation is being used as spare parts to rebuild another one in a hangar.

AUBURN, Maine — This is not the first time these flying relics have touched down at Lewiston-Auburn airport.

Whenever these birds of prey from World War II pay a visit to the Twin Cities, we grab a camera and stroll the tarmac to marvel at these leftovers from a past that fills the pages of every standard U.S. history textbook.

Last week, a B-17 and a P-51 Mustang rumbled into central Maine. I have seen and toured the cockpits of these World War II planes on several occasions. The detailed nose art on these World War II stalwarts is striking. I am still amazed at the awesome firepower of this four-engine bomber's .50-caliber machine guns that line the plane from top to bottom. How they persuaded a man to cram himself into the ball turret located under the belly of the plane is baffling to me. The only thing separating the gunner from a 10,000-foot drop to the ground is the ball-turret's glass.

I am a 6-foot-3, 300-pound man who cannot squeeze myself into the pilot's seat. The only section of the plane that I feel comfortable standing up is the waist-gunner's station. These planes were not built for big men with girth, but the pilots who flew these American bombers are larger than life. Imagine spending hours strapped into a cockpit while withering enemy fire from the ground and in the air whizzes past your aircraft as you concentrate on dropping a payload of 500-pound bombs on an obscure target.

Two exceptional films were made about B-17s. Spending a few hours watching the "Memphis Bell" or  my favorite, "Twelve O'clock High," is one way to get to know America's powerhouse bomber and the strategic roll it played during World War II.

"Twelve O'Clock High" is an excellent drama that focuses on American pilots during the daylight bombing campaign over Nazi Germany. Gregory Peck and Dean Jagger deliver Academy-Award winning performances and bring to life the dangers that these courageous pilots were exposed to during their daily missions.

Whenever I tour these planes, I often think of my uncle, Retired major B.J. Murano, who flew B-24s in World War II and jets in the Korean conflict. I don't know how this brave man came back in one piece after serving in two major wars.

Restoring the past

Restoration of a Lockheed Constellation continues at Lewiston-Auburn airport. After we paid homage to the B-17, we got a sneak peek at the restoration project of a L-1649 Starliner at one of the large hangars. The other Constellation, which is still sitting on the runway, is being cannibalized and used for parts. Watching these skilled men take apart an aircraft and modernized this behemoth from the 1960s is a real eye-opener and a lesson in ingenuity.