May’s rainy weather was good for at least one thing – it brought birds to our feeders that we normally wouldn’t see very often. We had all the usual visitors – American goldfinches, purple finches, pine siskins, chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers – but the addition of rose-breasted grosbeaks was an added bonus.

The cool, wet conditions apparently put a damper on the bird’s natural sources of food, such as insects and the seeds and fruits of wild plants. The grosbeaks took full advantage of the black-oil sunflower seed we put out in large quantities, as did the other birds. As a result, we had daily, up-close views of them, especially so because they tolerated a pretty close approach. Unfortunately, we realized the feeders needed to be moved farther away from the house, but more on that later.

So named because of the startling, bright-red splotch on their stark white chests just below their throats, this grosbeak has a song to match its good looks. It has been described as “sounding like a robin that has taken voice lessons,” and this is certainly apt. The robin has a monotonous song, endlessly repeating “cheerily, cheerup.” The grosbeak takes this basic idea up several notches, and the result is more lilting and melodious. Its song has a richer, fuller-bodied sound that is more pleasing and not as repetitive as the robin’s.

Rose-breasted grosbeaks are strongly sexually dimorphic, meaning there is an obvious difference in the appearances of the male and female. Although the female appears drab in comparison to the male, she is actually quite beautiful, with distinctive facial markings.

Although they may be physically different, the male and female share everything, from constructing the nest to incubating the eggs and feeding the young. Nestlings fledge at only 10 days, but remain dependent on their parents for an additional three weeks. Even after this period, they stay together as a family unit throughout the summer.

In perusing the literature on this bird, I read the males are quite territorial, chasing others of their gender away from their space – which brings me to the feeder proximity issue.

Our feeders are several feet away from the house, and we have no picture windows to fool them into thinking they have a fly-through. In addition, the screens are set in front of the windows; this has always provided a buffer, for whenever a bird did fly into them, they’d bounce harmlessly off. And I had always thought the screens provided the added advantage of somewhat obscuring any misleading reflection of sky and trees. I was wrong.

There was nothing like finding a dead male rose-breasted grosbeak on my porch to make me realize that several feet was not good enough. I was heartbroken that I had caused the death of a bird, and saddened to realize I’d no longer hear that melodious song around the house.

But, later that afternoon I couldn’t believe my ears – a rose-breasted grosbeak was singing! I then started to wonder if the dead bird had been an intruder that had been chased by a resident bird, flying into the window in its haste to get away. It was also possible, I thought, that a hawk had suddenly appeared, panicking the bird.

Whatever the reason, I moved those feeders a dozen or more YARDS away from the house; I wasn’t going to increase the chance of that happening again, especially knowing that collisions with both stationary and moving objects can be a significant cause of mortality in bird populations. It wouldn’t be as convenient, especially during the winter, but that’s a small price to pay to preserve life.

NEWS bird columnist Chris Corio can be reached at bdnsports@bangordailynews.net