Die Vögel im Garten meiner Tante

Last year I wrote about the birds I encountered on a trip to Germany and France. It was a ten day vacation to see some sights along the Rhine and Mosel Rivers and in nearby Loraine. What I might not have mentioned is that the trip finished with a visit to my aunt's home in rural Dellfeld, near Zweibrucken, in the Pfalz region of Southwestern Germany.

I went back to Europe last week, but this time just to Rheinland-Pfalz, and only to see my aunt. The contrast in November weather with May's was notable, with long, sunny and warm days replaced with short, cloudy and cold ones. While the late autumn scenery was colorfully scenic, the low temperatures made walks along the Schwarzbach, let alone any attempt at birding, frigidly unpleasant.

But having an elderly aunt who's living alone means any visit is also an opportunity to help with home and garden projects. And fortunately for me, Aunt Pat is as interested in her yard's wildlife as I am in my own. So one lucky task on my short visit was to set up and fill the four backyard bird feeders that help a number of native birds through the winter weather.

Even before putting out any food, I noticed a pair of my favorite birds in Germany, the Amseln, or blackbirds, as they helped themselves to the kibble my aunt puts out for a neighbor's wandering cat. Making a similarly daily appearance was a showy and large Elster, or Eurasian magpie, briefly perching on the chain link fence bordering a grassy field that rises to the autobahn a mile away.

The first bird I noticed at a feeder was a Kohlmeise, or great tit, related to North America's chickadees and titmice, but a bit larger. However the plucky bird doesn't just wait for handouts of sunflower seeds as I had seen it busily and noisily foraging through the nearby bushes and trees when I first approached my aunt's front door two days before. A similarly-sized bird I was equally happy to see was the Rotkehlchen, or robin, as it explored the garden in contrasting silence.

The most clamorous birds in the neighborhood are without a doubt the Krähe, or crows. In the backyard fields, dewy and yellow, except for one morning when misty frost descended, individual crows peered from vantage points and flew through the open spaces.

I was mostly unlucky photographing these hardy winter residents because I left my zoom lens in Phoenix. However I planned my visit through busy Frankfurt's international airport and with bookended overnights in nearby Mainz, the capital of the state of Rheinland-Pfalz. In this historic city of medieval alleyways and cathedrals is the Naturhistorisches Museum, or Natural History Museum, with an exhibit dedicated to the native birds of the region.

Close-up and through glass, under dim light, I was able to take flashless pictures of taxidermied, or stuffed, versions of the active birds I had seen a hundred and twenty-five kilometers away in my aunt's garden. It wasn't the wild and fresh-aired experience of wildlife photography I've grown to love, but it gave me a chance to see a few birds that were in my aunt's bird book but that evaded my line of sight a few feet away in her yard.

Among these elusive targets are Spechte, or woodpeckers, which are as varied in Europe as in North America. And like across the pond, they prefer forests and high trees for their habitat. But it is possible to attract these favorites to more human heights and feeders, specifically ones that allow enough space for these tall birds to stand upright.

Alas, until I'm able to return to Germany and Aunt Pat's garden, and to install a more accommodating feeder, I'll have to wait for that specific in der Wildnis, or in the wild, next chapter in European birding.