To us casual observers it appears that birds lead a pretty carefree life. We see them perched happily on tree branches singing their sweet songs and marvel at their freedom as they effortlessly fly the skies on graceful wings.

They appear at peace with the world as they hop and flit around in search of seeds and insects. However, some events I’ve recently seen remind me that a bird’s life is not the idyllic affair it appears.

I run my bird feeders year around. One would think this makes life a whole lot easier for the birds, but that’s not always the case. A while ago a red-winged blackbird decided he’d lay claim to them. All day long he stands guard, chasing off everything but the larger red-bellied and red-headed woodpeckers and grackles. The dozens upon dozens of birds that have grown dependant on the feeders now must run the gauntlet of the bully red-wing.

Not often do birds of differing species actually settle issues with physical contact. It’s almost always who can out bluff the other. This red-wing is taking it more seriously. The other day a cardinal was sitting in the nearby sycamore tree bemoaning the feeder takeover. The red-wing dove onto him like a hawk and took it all the way to the ground. He thrashed the cardinal for a few seconds then sent him packing. So much for the easy life.

A pair of mallards has been trying to get a family going along the creek bank in the yard. Momma tends the nest while Dad dutifully stands guard. They’re just serving omelets to the coons but they’re giving it their best. A couple days ago another rogue drake showed up, bent on having his way with Momma. Despite her objections he wouldn’t take no for an answer. All afternoon and evening Dad fended off the rapist. Up the creek they’d go, then back down.  Several times Momma even had to fly off to avoid him but the rapist followed with Dad in pursuit. They’d soon return in the same fashion. This went on until dark. I’m not sure the final outcome but by morning the stranger had moved on.

Then there was yesterday morning out at the bird house.  Earlier a pair of bluebirds was raising their family there.  Lately a pair of swallows has been eyeing it for their honeymoon suite. I hadn’t seen the bluebirds in a while so assumed their business was done and the swallows were good to go.

I first noticed the conflict when I saw a swallow and a bluebird collide above the house and tumble to the ground. Another swallow dove at ma bluebird, who was sitting atop the house. She met the incoming swallow and they, too, hit the ground. In the meantime the first combatants had parted. Dad bluebird returned atop the house while the swallow circled above. Ma bluebird soon rejoined dad, sitting back to back to cover all flanks.

The two swallows quickly regrouped and made another strafing run. Dad bluebird met the lead swallow while mom jumped up and took down the following wingman. They all rolled on the ground several seconds and then the whole thing was repeated – the bluebirds taking their stand back to back on the birdhouse as the swallows regrouped in the air above. Time and again the swallows made their dive attacks, the bluebirds would meet them and all would tumble to the ground. I didn’t know who had legal title to the house so wasn’t sure which to cheer for.

At some point one of the swallows left the fight, probably injured, perhaps an eye or wing. The remaining swallow had grit, though. He continued the dive attacks, each time being met by dad bluebird. Ma bluebird stayed on the house keeping a sharp eye to the sky for the other bogey. After 25 minutes the bluebirds had undisputed possession of the house. How long they’d been going at it before I noticed them I have no idea. So who said a bird’s life is easy?

Carpe diem.

Larry Lyons writes a weekly outdoor column for Leader Publications.
He can be reached at larrylyons@verizon.net