How a New Kitchen Revealed a Backyard Menagerie

It was a nice house…in 1926, today definitely on the smaller side… a starter home. And for Joan and Earl that was just the role, it played back in 1980 when they together with their infant daughter Rachel first moved in.

It had many features that caught their eye when house shopping. The first of which was of course that it was within their budget range. But more than that it had a fireplace, which signified warmth and hominess.

The heart of the home was its bright yellow kitchen, complete with a bold yellow sink and wallpaper. Unlike many of the neighboring South Minneapolis stucco bungalows, it had a small breakfast nook which jutted out as an addition to the back of the house. The kitchen’s brightness brought a smile to Joan’s face. Yellow is a happy color. The nook a sense of family togetherness.

The final big selling point was the large tree in the backyard. A huge silver maple. Earl would have preferred it to have been a red maple. He liked how red leaves were so different than the normal everyday green leaves of most other trees. Different and bold. But silver would do. Trees have deep roots and majesty of their own. They were buying a home and a very small forest of one. A bonus.

Together they made it a home for Rachel and eventually her two brothers, Earl Jacob and Andrew. Over the years, the fireplace was used less and less often, Rachels’s asthma was not happy with the whiffs of smoke that would from time to time penetrate the living room rather than making the climb as intended up the brick chimney.

The kitchen sink developed a ding in its yellow porcelain. The faucets needed occasional replacement, and the edges of the wallpaper seams peeled ever so gently and in places frayed from time and wear.

The maple was tapped for dribbles of sap several springs resulting in at best a small quantity of sugary water, not quite the syrup producer the boys had hoped. More successful was the rope swing which gave many years of service. It’s use demonstrated by the large patch of worn grass and dirt where youthful feet would drag.

While it appeared possible, the imagined tree house never did materialize. The tree, however, was home to many squirrels and the roost for passing birds and probably a nest or two. As the decades passed it dropped tons of leaves and more than a few branches. One time putting a permanent dent in the chain link fence originally built to confine Ilsa, a Springer Spaniel and her many successors.

As time and life passed by, it turned out that trees age too, and eventually the Maple had to go. Disease and old age had taken their toll. Earl and Joan grieved and mourned its loss.

Its passing had a positive side. The backyard grass celebrated with newfound vigor, perhaps because of the unfiltered sun it now enjoyed, or the absence of the tree’s roots sucking up all the available soil nutrients.

Earl replaced the forest of one with a new sapling oak he bought for just $25 via a lottery the city of Minneapolis held each spring as part of its commitment to being a “Tree City” and to preserve and expand its urban forest. It had grown several seasons before they managed to finagle the funds to do the big kitchen update.

The kitchen upgrade replaced the yellow kitchen and its dated appliances and cupboards with new fresh ones. Self-closing drawers, quartz countertops, new floors without the dings and burns of accidents past and fresh subway tile enhanced essentially the same layout and features as before with one big exception.

Where the old kitchen was bright and friendly yellow the new kitchen was white. Its new brightness would not come from the color of its walls and sink, but rather the brightness of a new patio door where the breakfast nook once was opening onto a new outside deck.

Instead of the breakfast nook window which offered a chance to peer out to the backyard, there now was a huge picture window view of the backyard. One that allowed direct access to the decks expanded floor area. The backyard was now part of the kitchen ushering in tons of light and to the observant… entertainment.

While the new oak was not large enough to support squirrels yet, it did finally have its first showing of acorns, all of which were soon stripped away by the neighborhoods ample supply of furry nut grabbers. Before long, the oak hosted a new bird feeder, as did other places in the yard. A hummingbird feeder hung from the garage eaves, an orange and grape jelly laden feeder hung from a metal hanging plant roost in another corner of the yard and a suet feeder dangled from a post, screening the deck from neighbors on the south.

The stage was set for avian company. The sparrows were the first and most numerous guests. They streamed into the yard from the bank of the neighbor’s arborvitaes which served as a privacy fence to the north, much like fighter squadrons launching from an aircraft carrier.

Ever alert for Bo the family dog who relished the chance to chase, they were a bit flighty — quick to escape at a moment’s notice. While they would perch on the seed feeder on the oak, they were too numerous to share the perch and seemed to prefer cleaning up the fallen seed and cracked corn that accumulated on the ground under the feeder.

The cardinal couple, with their mottled and subdued summer red plumage, would tend to wait for opportunities when the timid sparrows sought shelter from real or potential threats. While predominately considered ground feeders, they would perch on occasion as well and sometimes seemed to enjoy brushing seed and corn off the perch onto the ground below.

The even more timid chickadees would fly in from a high perch to the south in the other neighbor’s ash tree, dipping as they flew and seemingly always seeking the perch when no one else was already there. As if they were sneaking in their snacks when no one was looking.

While the birds were the main attraction, the most voracious visitors were the squirrels. Messy eaters, they ensured there was plenty of seed on the ground, as they could hog the feeder by themselves for many minutes at a time. Frequently two or even three would be in wait for their time at the trough. The popularity of the feeder extended to a wide range of squirrels including on occasion the albino who lived in a neighbor’s tree across the alley.

Unfortunately, that domicile was cut down mid-summer and albino sightings became less frequent.

Everloving a party, one of the block’s many rabbits would make an appearance from time to time. This surprised Earl, who didn’t know that rabbits would be attracted to birdseed. Despite his card-carrying membership in the Elmer Fudd Rabbit Hating Society, these floppy-eared appearances brought a smile to his face.

While the birdseed feeder needed daily refills, the hummingbird feeder, the suet feeder, and the oriole feeder were apparently unappreciated by the neighborhood’s wildlife, with the exception of the ants which seemed to love the grape jelly in the oriole feeder. Unfortunately for them, it seemed to be a death trap as many ant corpses would litter the bottom of the holder when it and the orange halves were refreshed periodically.

The suet feeder may well prove more of an attraction once the colder weather arrives, and while the winter is not a time for either orioles or hummingbirds, the locations of the feeders will be maintained and come early spring replenished with fresh provisions in the hopes of attracting even more feathered company next year.

The new kitchen not only has enhanced the quality of life within the home but also helped to connect the house in a more visual way with the creatures of the urban forest and nature itself.