By Tim Brown
Birds have a hierarchy. Bigger usually wins. The Jay dominates until it's had its fill. Cardinals hold their own. Sparrows, who usually arrive as a team, can be formidable. But the diminutive Finch remains aloof, until it receives special invitation — the Finch feeder. It's a simple plastic tube with pint-sized perches and tiny holes, prefect for the Fiches' smaller beaks. Even they fuss with one another from time to time. Usually, there is no visible difference between the dominant and the subservient Finch to the naked human eye, which suggests that Finch personalities and attitudes may determine who's boss. Holding that idea up to the light makes me wonder how a creature who spends most of its days flying, eating and fouling my windshield has the time and emotional depth to develop a personality, let alone an attitude. I guess we must accept that idea but, you know, it doesn't make much sense. There food enough to go around, if every bird just took it's turn. That's a thought that seems beyond most birds, big or small. Vladimir Putin, too, for that matter.