Here’s my cynical take on a bird article printed on the website of a national nonprofit agency whose mission has nothing to do with birds. I won’t reveal the agency to protect the innocent.

The headline grabbed my attention, which is what headlines are supposed to do, I guess. It read: 7 Reasons to Think Twice Before Getting a Bird-feeder.

Right away, I knew I wouldn’t like the article, but I figured I would read it anyway and at least give it a chance. I was right, of course, but at least I can say I gave it a fair shot.

The article makes some good points, but, in my opinion, it misses the mark for the most part. It basically picks apart the hobby of feeding birds and outlines every possible negative scenario.

It’s like saying you should avoid building model airplanes because you might get glue on your fingers. Well, of course, you might, but you take precautions so that doesn’t happen, and if it does, then you wash your hands.

Or, you should avoid gardening because it might make your back ache, or you might dig up some insects that are scary-looking. Well, if your back starts to hurt, then stop for a while. If you see a scary insect, get over it because you know that’s inherent to the hobby.

Anyway, here are the seven reasons why this article urges you to think twice about feeding birds. I will make my cynical comments after each one.

1. Bird feeders are messy. Birds flick seeds on the ground and leave behind remnants of the seeds they do eat. 

No kidding. Clean up the seeds and shells under the feeder if you don’t want to look at them. 

2. There’s a lot of upkeep. Bird feeders need to be kept clean just like our dishes and utensils. 

The bird world is amazing. If you’re reading this column, you likely already know that, but every once in a while something reminds me of just how incredible birds really are.

The other day, March 11 to be exact, I heard the song I’ve been waiting to hear for months: the unmistakable two-syllable song of the eastern phoebe. Like many birds, phoebes say their name, a raspy “fee-bee.”

I turned my head toward the song and instantly saw the smallish songbird perched on a telephone wire. Of course, the bird was bobbing its tail as phoebes almost always do.

It was the first phoebe I saw this year, or my FOY (first of year) phoebe in birding lingo. It came on one of the unseasonably warm days we had, and I wasn’t overly surprised to see the bird. Still, it seemed a bit early for the phoebe to be back in New England, so I checked my eBird account to see when I saw my FOY last year.

Sure enough, it was March 11. The first phoebe I saw occurred on the same exact calendar day as last year. In October of last year, this bird left New England for southern U.S. or Mexico. Sometime in February it began its journey back north and arrived at my place of work on the same day as last year. Of course, I can’t tell with all certainty it’s the same bird, but I’d like to think so.