We live in a condominium community on an island in the middle of a bay. The island, as do all of the islands in Boston Harbor, has a rich history dating back to colonial times.
The military built a base on the island in 1942 that became part of the Boston Harbor defense system in WWII, connecting the island to the mainland with a quarter-mile bridge. After the war, the fort served as part of the Nike missile air defense system in the 1950s before the base was decommissioned in the 1960s. The massive bunkers, which were built to withstand an enemy attack, still are highly-visible amidst the condos.
The island is pretty much devoid of the usual land-based wildlife. Although we have plenty of rabbits, there are no chipmunks, squirrels, deer, or raccoons — the critters who typically ravaged our backyard garden when we lived on the mainland. The rabbits may nibble at our petunias and dahlias, but don’t seem to have much of an appetite for the tomatoes.
Plus, we use rabbit spray on the steps leading up to the patio and that seems to do a pretty good job of keeping the bunnies away.
However, we do have an abundance of birds on the island. There are the year-round resident birds — the ever-present seagulls, Canada geese, sparrows, crows, small blackbirds, and some ducks, while the summer brings a host of migratory birds, including egrets, Great blue herons, cormorants, red-tailed hawks, osprey, owls, a blue jay, and a colony of loud and aggressive terns, who arrive at the beginning of June and who leave at the beginning of September.
During our time here, we have had great success with our patio garden, which gets full sun. We fill large planters and pots with that Miracle Gro dirt and grow tomatoes, cucumbers, summer squash, and basil, as well as annuals (petunias, dahlias, and marigolds) for some bright color.
This summer has been the best-ever for our vegetables and flowers. We’ve had more tomatoes, both cherry and full-size, than ever (and we’ve been gardeners for more than 50 years). We’ve given plenty to our neighbors and we’ve frozen two dozen — we separated them on muffin sheets, flash-froze them, and then placed them into freezer bags to be taken out in the months ahead.
But this year there has been something new on our island and in our garden.
We first heard it — a sharp, distinctive chirp every two seconds or so — and then we caught our first glimpse of what was making that sound: A small, beautiful, red bird (our first thought was how it looked just like a St. Louis Cardinal) that was perched on the fence that surrounds our patio area.
He flew off as soon as we opened our screen door, so thereafter we have approached the door quietly without opening it. We soon learned its routine: He chirps away for about 30 seconds atop the fence and then dives from the fence into the thicket of our tomato plants.
He soon emerges with a cherry tomato in his beak, alighting for a moment on the fence before flying off.
Our cardinal’s chirp, which occurs 4-5 times a day, calls us to our front door. We never tire of watching him drop off the fence into our tomato patch and fly off with another of our cherry tomatoes.
Ordinarily, we’d be upset at this little thief taking our hard-earned tomatoes. We planted them the week before Memorial Day and have nurtured them ever since. What people don’t realize about gardening is that it chains you to your home. We can never be away for more than 24 hours because the pots will dry out and the plants will droop if they aren’t watered regularly, sometimes even twice a day during a heat wave.
But this summer we’ve been well-rewarded for our hard work. We’ve had more tomatoes than we can eat ourselves, so losing a few every day to a cardinal has been no big deal.
And truth be told, if our tomatoes bring back our beautiful new cardinal friend every summer, we’re more than happy to oblige him.