#Patio Bird Feeder

[kenneturner]

Mourning Doves Wait

Mourning Doves Wait — Image by kenne The doves wait in a tree near  the bird feeder until I leave my chair on the patio. — kenne  

[alt-photography]

Rainy Day 08/2024

IG

[bijesperfahey]

Move into my new place in officially less than 1 week and I am so excited for in unit washer dryer and ALSO big ass balcony

[hiddenstashart]

[riverroadretail]

Enhance your garden with our Copper Bird Feeder! Featuring a unique seed dispensing system, it ensures a continuous fresh supply of seed. The 360-degree circular perch allows birds to feed comfortably. With an attractive antique copper finish, rust resistance, and a Sure-Lock cap to keep squirrels out, this feeder is both stylish and functional. Easy to fill and clean, it holds up to 2 pounds of seed and includes a clear, shatter-resistant reservoir for easy monitoring. Dimensions: 8.25 x 8.25 x 9.25 inches.

Keep your feathered friends happy all season long! 🐦🌸

riverroadretail.com

[greatinterest]

Pergola Columbus a sizable image of a brick patio in the backyard in the transitional style

[sister-lucifer]

READ THE FIRST PART HERE 

READ PART THREE HERE

Genre: Fluff, a bit angsty but has a happy ending, not explicitly romantic

Summary: It’s been raining all day, and the gloomy weather has you thinking about what could’ve been, and especially what never will be.

Content/Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of death/suicide, it’s a little sad, I guess? But that’s it. Reader just speculates on how life would’ve been if the Operator hadn’t fucked them over and gets down about it, but theres a happy ending. 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

It’s raining again. Not that that’s new. Springtime out here sees its fair share of storms. Normally you’d observe the rain from inside, but today something inside was gnawing at you for some fresh air. 

The old rocking chair creaks beneath your weight, moving to and fro softly as you watch the rain. It comes down in sheets off the sides of the cover, splattering to the muddy ground and making a shallow moat around the patio. It lands loudly on the old tin roof, rattling and groaning in a manner that is far too dramatic. It obscures anything beyond the perimeter of the cabin and hides everything in a misty haze. 

It’s going to be foggy tomorrow, you think. It usually is when it rains like this. It’ll be cold for the next few days, too, and the ground will be soggy for weeks. Miserable weather, that is. Not that that’s new. 

It’s a good day to wonder, that’s all. You’ve been doing plenty of that lately. A bit too much, maybe, but there’s no helping that. 

You’ve been living out here with Tim for…shit. How long has it been? Almost a year, you think, but your perception of time is unreliable at best. It’s just one of the many things you lost when your world turned upside down.

That’s what it’s really about. The loss. Tim doesn’t like to talk about it, but you know you both feel it, him even more so than you. He was going to go to college, get a degree, and he’d be damn good at it, too. He was going to find a place of his own, maybe adopt a dog, a big old Saint Bernard like he had when he was a boy, the only type of housemate that wouldn’t annoy him. That’s what he’s told you, anyways. Not sober, of course, not even close; he’d never tell you anything that personal without at least a bit of alcohol in his system. He’s been drinking less since you showed up, though. You noticed he was cutting back a couple months after you moved in. You wonder if you’ll ever get him to open up like that again.

But those were Tim’s plans. He was already in his mid twenties when things really went south, you were barely out of high school when everything started. You didn’t really have plans. So…what are you mourning, exactly? 

You don’t really have an answer to that. 

You didn’t really have a set path for yourself. Your plan barely existed, and it’s feeble skeleton was little more than an intention to simply float around until something caught your eye. You’d find your way eventually, there was no need to worry. At least, that’s what you used to think. 

Now where do you go?

You didn’t have any real plans, no, and you can’t mourn something that never existed, but it there’s this heavy feeling that comes with knowing you’ll never be able to choose. 

That’s what it comes down to, you realize. Choice. 

No, you didn’t have any plans, but that was because you had all the options you could ever want. Now, you don’t have any plans because you’ve only got one. 

Tim does everything he can to keep you entertained out here. Hell, he risks his life every time he walks down the path to his truck to go to town for you, or when he just steps off the porch to refill the bird feeder he knows you love to watch. Nothing outside of these walls in these woods is safe. If it weren’t raining so hard, he’d tear you a new one for even sitting on the porch. 

It’s a miserable existence, but it’s so nice to have someone to be miserable with, even if he can’t change anything. 

You just wish that was enough to push away that yearning for more, that subtle thrumming ache that only wells up in your stomach late at night, that want that urges you to just take the truck and leave, to forget this cabin and Tim and everything in these godforsaken woods. 

But you can’t. 

You’d die. And even if you didn’t, the guilt of stranding Tim would eat you alive, especially knowing he’d kill himself before letting that thing get him. 

You don’t want to think about that. You push the thoughts away before they can take root in your mind. It’s better to just not consider that possibility at all. 

You jump when you hear the front door open. You look back to see Tim standing there, one hand buried in his pocket and the other still on the door handle. 

“The hell are you doin’ out here?” He huffs, “I been yellin’ for ya, thought you up and ran off.” 

You give him a weak smile, but you can’t keep it up for very long. You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them, curling up as if trying to make yourself look as small as possible. You mumble an apology, but don’t look at him. 

He pauses, then, and you can imagining his expression changing to confusion and then concern before he covers it up again. His footsteps come up behind you, the wooden porch creaking beneath him. His hand grabs the back of the rocking chair and forces it to still before he pulls it backward to get a look at you.

“…What’s up with you, kid?” 

You shrug. It’s an easier response than an explanation, but it doesn’t satisfy him at all. 

“C’mon, we both know that’s bullshit,” He says with a dry chuckle, and he’s entirely correct. “What’s goin’ on?”

You sigh, thinking for a moment about your answer. 

“…It’s just…I dunno. Do you ever, like…think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t…you know…”

It’s a stammering, stumbling attempt at explaining yourself, but he understands. He nods, crossing his arms and leaning back against the house. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” He replies, scratching at his stubble, “But if I’m bein’ honest, it ain’t gonna do you any good. That sorta thing only gets ya down.”

He’s right about that, too. If only it were that easy to just stop. It’s just so hard not to wonder at least every once in a while, it’s human nature. You just wish you knew when to stop. You just wish you were able to ignore the ‘what if’s that piled up in the back of your mind until they couldn’t stand anymore and toppled over into a pathetic mess of rubble. They’ll crush you one day if you aren’t careful, but such an idea seems almost inevitable. 

“Do you think—“ You start, but stop short before you can get any further. Tim quirks a brow, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s making that skeptical face. 

“…Do I think what?” He asks. 

You hesitate to answer. Is this really a question you want to ask? If this starts an argument you won’t be able to take back, will it ruin the comfort you and Tim have finally managed to establish with each other? You can’t just not tell him now, though, or you’ll just piss him off more. He doesn’t care for secrets, but he can’t stand when someone wusses out of a conversation at the last second. 

“…Do you think if you had the chance you would…like, go back in time? If you could make it to where none of this ever happened, would you?”

You feel stupid asking that, and it doesn’t help that Tim is silent for far too long before he answers. You’re already regretting this. 

Tim finally opens his mouth, and he stammers for a few moments before his sounds turn into words.

“…I don’t really think I can answer that, kid. That’s a tough one.” 

He sounds monotone, almost uncaring, but you can tell he’s doing it on purpose

to conceal whatever he doesn’t want you to know he’s feeling. You finally turn to look at him with a look that says ‘Can you please try?’ 

His eyes widen for a moment, his shoulders tensing in that subtle way they only do when he’s scared. His lips part slowly, and it sounds like he’s forcing his next words out. 

“I don’t know. Maybe? I…”

He trails off, and you turn away again. Then there’s silence for another few moments. 

Then he’s beside your chair, slowly lowering himself to sit down and doing that annoyed groan he does anytime he has to strain his back. He takes a moment to get comfortable, and you see him reach for his pocket to grab a cigarette only to sigh in disappointment when he realizes he left them inside. You feel bad for smiling, but at least he won’t be able to hide behind his smoke the way he likes to when a conversation makes him uncomfortable. 

He accepts his fate, leaning back on his hands and staring out into the rain with you. 

“I might,” He finally says, “But it wouldn’t be an easy choice.” 

“Why not?” You ask, and for some reason he chuckles at that. 

“Good question. This isn’t how I expected things to end up, no one does, but…I couldn’t just up and leave this.” 

‘This’ he says. ‘This?’ That hardly answers your question. You quirk a brow at him, and he begrudgingly continues. 

“You know, I just…I’ve gotten attached to all this—“ 

“What’s this, exactly?” You interrupt, and he winces like he was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. “I can’t imagine there being anything here worth sticking around for.”

“…There wasn’t. Not for a long time,” He says, and now it’s your turn to pause. 

“…What did you say?” 

“There wasn’t,” He repeats, “Not until…not when I was alone. But now…” 

‘You,’ you realize that’s what he’s trying to say, ‘You are the only thing worth staying for.’ 

For some reason, that hurts. Maybe you feel guilty that you ever thought about leaving him, or maybe you feel bad that you of all people are his only friend. The bar for happiness is really low around here. 

You slowly unfurl from your spot on the chair, letting your feet rest on the porch as you slump down a bit. 

“So…you’re saying you wouldn’t?”

You expected an immediate answer. Stupid of you, really. He’s hesitating again. You’d thought you’d get a quick yes or no. You’re not sure if this is better or worse. 

“I’m not…saying anything,” Tim assures you, “I’m just saying that…I’d at least have to think about it.” 

“Yeah, but you have to make a choice,” You say with an eye roll, and the words coming out more forceful than you intended. Fortunately, his stoney exterior deflects any vitriol you could spew at him. 

The silence that settles over you this time is heavy. It makes you slump even further down in your chair. You hate the silence that always follows when you say something that turned out far too mean. 

You don’t breathe until Tim speaks again.

“Okay, yeah…I would.” 

You don’t know how you feel about that answer, but you don’t have much time to think before he continues. 

“But only because I’d know where to find you this time.” 

That surprises you. You sit back up in your chair, looking down at him with an unmistakably confused look. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, and your cheeks warm a bit when he chuckles at your noise of bewilderment.

“I’d do it, yeah, but I couldn’t just leave you to fend for yourself,” He explains, “I’d do it, but I wouldn’t abandon you. Now I know who you are, what you liked to do, where you’d hang out, all those things from before shit hit the fan. I just don’t want you to think I’d, ya know…forget about you like that. I’d come find you, that’s all. I think we’d find each other anyways, though.”

Something in your chest aches as he speaks, and it makes you want to curl up again, but you can’t move. You stare at him for a long few moments, and you’re lucky he doesn’t look up at you because you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away. You can’t even blink. 

“I told you kid,” He adds, “I care about you. I always have.”

What do you say to that? 

You don’t know, so you stay silent. You want to say something, to return the monument of emotion he’s just offered to you, to somehow express reciprocity, but you don’t know how. You’re silent. 

You don’t move as Tim stands back up, cracking his back and stretching his legs. He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving a small, affectionate squeeze. 

“I gotta go start dinner,” He says curtly, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Don’t spend too long out here. If you get sick, Imma say I told you so.” 

You nod, but give no further response. He pulls his hand away, and you think that’s the end of it, but just as you realize you haven’t heard him go to leave you feel him leaning over you. 

You tense. You’re not sure why, but you do. 

You feel him press a brief kiss to the top of your head before he pulls away again. It wasn’t even a kiss, really, he just pushed his lips against your head for a moment, but for that moment it was like everything you’d ever worried about up until that point was arbitrary. It doesn’t last long, but it lingers in the air like the smoke from Tim’s cigarettes as he pulls away and walks back into the house. 

You’re alone again.

Now what? 

You weigh your options for a moment, but once Tim’s footsteps disappear into the house it feels far too quiet out here, even with the rain beating down on the roof above you. 

You wait for only a few moments more to make sure you won’t seem too eager to follow him before you get up, lazily making your way back inside. 

You find yourself wondering again, this time about what Tim is making for dinner tonight, and you take a second to appreciate the pleasure in such simple problems. 

There are things that will never be now, and there’s no changing that.

But for tonight, this is pretty damn nice. 

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[elliottnotyet]

Marchirp day 20: birds from your region.

My grandma doesn't have a bird feeder, she just throws birdseed on the concrete patio. The birds especially seem love it after it rains. Robins and cardinals and mockingbirds come and go all day.

[Image ID: a drawing of a robin, a bird with dark grey head, wings, and tail and a burnt orange chest, standing on a piece of wood. End ID]

[eveningstruggle]

to build a bower

dramione, rated t, 8.7k

She has a cat, the same ugly orange thing that she’d had at Hogwarts. She lives in a flat in Clapham Common, has a bird-feeder outside her kitchen window, and is engaged in a war of attrition with the squirrels who believe they are entitled to her Songbird’s Favourite Patio Mix. She wears glasses most days, but contact lenses when she has an important meeting. She loves hazelnut and is allergic to kiwi. She finds Ted’s golf stories tedious.

And now he can add to the Granger, Hermione entry that a piece of pale mint green glass, tossed and tumbled through a thousand ocean waves, is enough to make her stop at his desk and speak to him.

--

or: Draco stumbles across a surprising way to get Hermione’s attention.

read it on ao3

[gretashand]

a stray cat brought her kittens to our backyard a few weeks back and so we have six cats living on our patio atm (babies have finally weened and we are taking the stray to get fixed BIG HATE TO MY NEIGHBOUR WHO DIDNT FIX THEIR CATS AND THEN LOBBED THEM OUTSIDE AND NOW WE’RE STUCK WITH NIXING EXPONENTIAL CAT GROWTH)

(if u dont know wild/outdoor cats are considered an invasive species and are damaging our local ecosystem its controversial already to have non-barn outdoor cats and is a massive NO NO to not have your cat fixed ESPECIALLY WHEN LETTING THEM OUTSIDE (i live in the suburbs there are no farms within an hour radius) this neighbor also feeds all the wild predator birds?????why cant he be normal and just put out feeders for the hummingbirds and squirrels bc we now have hawk and vulture problems)

[horriblegoosefest]

To Build A Bower

By: @eveningstruggle Paring(s): Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Rating: T Word Count: 8, 773 Warnings/Content: No archive warnings apply Goose: @greeninkredletters

Tags:

Co-workers, harry potter epilogue what epilogue | EWE, post-war, pining, POV draco malfoy, simp draco malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, getting together, anxiety, brief mention of panic attacks, the mating habits of bowerbirds, no disrespect to matildas intended, this was supposed to be a joke and here we are: the eveningstruggle story

Summary:

She has a cat, the same ugly orange thing that she’d had at Hogwarts. She lives in a flat in Clapham Common, has a bird-feeder outside her kitchen window, and is engaged in a war of attrition with the squirrels who believe they are entitled to her Songbird’s Favourite Patio Mix. She wears glasses most days, but contact lenses when she has an important meeting. She loves hazelnut and is allergic to kiwi. She finds Ted’s golf stories tedious.

And now he can add to the Granger, Hermione entry that a piece of pale mint green glass, tossed and tumbled through a thousand ocean waves, is enough to make her stop at his desk and speak to him. -- or: Draco stumbles across a surprising way to get Hermione’s attention.

[kenneturner]

Cardinal At Patio Feeder

Male Cardinal At Patio Feeder This Morning — Image by kenne A male cardinalBright red in the morning sunA year-round neighbor. Not seen, but nearbythe muted colored femaleProceeds with caution. — kenne

[imalayla]

I'm so ready for the back yard to be finished 😭 I hate it so much right now! We're much closer but still have so far to go.

I've almost got the trench fixed around the patio. I'm pulling the river rocks back up and laying sediment blocking fabric over the gravel and then covering it with soil.

Both humans and dogs hate walking on them and since we walk around the patio a lot, I want it to be covered back up and pleasant to walk on. I'm leaving the gravel and river rock exposed where the roof line is, since that's where the rain falls into the dirt. Exposed gravel will help with erosion and allow the rain to get into the trench better. Just the area around the patio and then the walkway to the gate is being covered in dirt.

Then we have to figure out what sort of grass/plants to plant in the bare dirt. I may just cover it in mulch for the winter.

Once I'm done with that, we have to fix the patio. This will most likely involve a jack hammer to get the rest of the flagstones and mortar up, since the contractor pulled up half of them. The concrete slab underneath is fairly smooth and pleasant to walk on, so we are just going to pull the rest of the stones and mortar up to allow the concrete to be bare. It'll be easier to clean too. I also need to level out the walking path stones.

Once we are done with that monumental task, we have to pour concrete in the gap that he jackhammered between the concrete walkway and the patio, and fill in the holes he put in the patio concrete.

After that, it'll just be fixing the water spout, getting a hose box to contain that, and maybe some sort of storage bench to store our garden tools. Ugh I hate it so much but I'm so tired of hating the backyard. We've lived here for 3 years dammit, I want to enjoy sitting back there!!!! I want to put bird feeders up and flowers and bushes, not worrying about the stupid trench and patio.

Here's some pics of it so far.

[seafoamreadings]

venus trine ceres (rx)

this is a hyper-fertile trine. if you need creative ideas, they are easier to come by now. if you are trying for children, this is a great time for that sort of conception too. if not - be careful! if none of the above applies, it might bring you good luck and favor to work with the earth - a garden, a nice patio, a simple but beautiful bird feeder.

[crazycatsiren]

The blue jays and cardinals are loving the peanuts we put out on the patio. We are getting a bird feeder when we go get flowers for planting soon.

[aurorawest]

On this yet another day of 97 degrees with a 75 degree dew point, I noticed a blue jay on my patio acting odd—it was perched on one of the feeders, not eating and panting. I kept watching it and it didn’t seem like it was moving very well; it was clumsy as it tried to get into one of the dogwoods near the feeder. There are several water sources on the patio for the birds, we have a fountain, plus a bird bath and a tray on the ground, but this bird wasn’t going for any of them despite clearly being overheated.

I went outside to put more water in the fountain and this bird didn’t move. I was three feet from it, fiddling with the hose, moving around, and it just looked at me. So at that point I thought, this bird is very clearly in heat distress and I need to try to catch it. I figured it was either in better shape than it looked, and it would fly away, or I would be able to literally reach into the tree and grab it, in which case it definitely needed help.

Soooo that’s what I did, and the blue jay (a fledgling) spent a nice, cool afternoon in a comfy and dark cardboard box with a teacup of water…in my laundry room.

🪶🪶🪶Note!! I am a trained volunteer for multiple bird banding programs and I know how to handle birds. If you see a songbird in heat distress, you should call your local wildlife rescue for advice. The very best thing you can do is make sure there’s water for them to drink and bathe in! 🪶🪶🪶

Here’s my cooled off friend and me having a moment before it flew off to find its family: