Where are the birds? And squirrels? And deer?

Before we moved this past summer, we were used to looking out the windows of our home and seeing abundant wildlife.

Most of you know that I am no fan of squirrels, having conducted a long and pointless battle with the furry-tailed rodents. I finally gave up when I realized that squirrels, with brains about the size of an unshelled black walnut, are more intelligent than humans, with brains about the size of a fully ripened Arkansas cantaloupe.

Also, before we moved, we had several bird feeders. One was just for goldfinches. Another was just for hummingbirds. The main feeder was stocked with an all-purpose mixture of seeds designed to attract all the other birds. And, of course, squirrels.

At any given time on any given day, we could look out almost any window and see birds. We had lots of cardinals. And we had lots of sparrows. And we had lots of other birds, too.

Since we were so busy with settling in to our new home, we hadn't noticed the bird population outside our windows. We have some windows that provide a panoramic view of the backyards of five or six of our neighbors, thanks to the sweeping curve on which our houses are located. We noticed right away after we moved that most of the backyards have bird feeders mounted on poles. The nearest feeder maintained by a neighbor appears to attract a couple of cardinals and an occasional squirrel.

So, I decided the neighborly thing to do would be to install a feeder in our backyard.

At one of Cape Girardeau's Great Big Stores we found a whole section of feeders and feed. Many of the feeders claimed to be squirrel proof. I, of course, knew better. But I still wound up buying one of the contraptions, mainly because it's fun to watch a squirrel figure out how to bypass whatever technology has been built into the supposedly squirrel-free device.

I also bought some thistle seed in a cloth container for the goldfinches. We have had good luck with those before.

The new feeders went up on a Thursday morning. I expected to see a swarm of birds by noon, considering that all of our neighbors' feeders were empty at the time.

By afternoon I was beginning to wonder what was going on. Not a single bird had shown up at the new feeders. Nor a single squirrel.

I know there is a squirrel nearby. I see it playing in the street in front of our house. And there are mockingbirds in our front yard and across the street. And occasionally I hear crows cawing over whatever it is that makes a crow caw.

But no birds at our feeder.

It is little consolation to see no birds at any of the other feeders in the neighborhood. The plain fact is that we appear to have moved to a well-regulated no-fly zone.

How did that happen?

My wife says the explanation is simple: The birds and squirrels have plenty to eat and don't need handouts right now. Just wait, she says, until it turns cold and snowy and icy. Then we'll have plenty of visitors to the feeders.

I hope she's right. I don't like thinking our bird feeders are in the same category as a badly run government program.

But we have proved an old maxim: You can invite a bird to a buffet, but you can't make it eat overpriced store-bought birdseed.

And we have proved, once again, that our wild friends are smarter than humans. Did you know a bird's brain is about the size of a grape?

And did you know that, when two feeders don't attract birds, a birdbrain buys two more feeders? And fills them up?

Ask my wife if she knows any birdbrains.

Joe Sullivan is the retired editor of the Southeast Missourian.