I recently had the opportunity to observe my window feeder for an entire morning. From the very first rays of sunlight, I was able to see every bird that came to feed. Because of some painting, cleaning and moving, I found myself rolling out the sleeping bag in the living room to escape the fumes and chaos in the bedroom. Although I would have preferred a night in the bedroom on a comfortable mattress, I knew that a night beneath the picture window would give me a front row seat at the feeder come morning.

It all began before sunrise with a tenacious little Carolina wren. Long before the birds were singing, this curious wren defied the darkness and woke me with gentle taps upon the sill. Buried beneath my down wrappings, I peered out with heavy eyes toward the window where I spied the wren.

I was astonished at first, not typically greeting the day in such an unusual way, but soon the peace and warmth of my slumber beckoned me back into my downy shell. Wanting to sleep more, I soon became annoyed by my little friend. Eventually, he flew off and could be heard ringing out from the raspberry brambles way out back.

For the next hour I remained semi-alert while drifting in and out of sleep. A gray wash appeared across the sky, and I knew the day would soon begin. A robin started off singing somewhere and then a red-eyed vireo began calling.

However, the peace was soon broken when an aggressive blue jay landed screaming in bold defiance with his crest raised and beak open. I looked straight into his eyes and could see the burning intellect that is so well documented on this species. Crows and jays are among the brightest birds on the planet.

After the jays had thrashed about and spilled seed everywhere for the squirrels to eat on the ground, other birds began to fly up to the window. The majority of them were tufted titmice, but I saw many woodpeckers, too. The first was a drab downy woodpecker, which never stayed long. A nervous individual, this bird flew in and always left with one seed. His close cousin, the larger hairy woodpecker, remained longer, nearly making quick work of the suet cake in one visit. Still larger was a red-bellied woodpecker that flashed vibrant colors.

With the progression of the morning came a wide variety of species. There were the usual suspects, such as white-breasted nuthatches, chickadees, chipping sparrows, goldfinch, house finch and cardinals. By far the most exciting sighting was when a sharp-shinned hawk streaked across the window just missing a house finch.

The morning was thrilling, but I always sleep better on a bed. Should I put a window feeder at the bedroom sill or will the wren supplant my alarm clock?

Robert Tougias is a birding author who lives in Colchester. He is available for presentations and you can send questions to him at rtougias@snet.net.