Old bones are cold bones, I've heard it said, and my old bones have been sticking pretty close to home. That's why I don't have a bird of my own to present this week. Instead, I decided to borrow one.

My morning routine for feeding backyard birds includes spreading bark butter on a pine tree while an impatient white-breasted nuthatch utters a high-pitched nasal call, sounding like “thank, thank.” ...