I kept a good distance away made easier by my 100x digital zoom, made minimal movements beyond the index finger pushing down on the shutter and watched. The bird seemed unconcerned about my appearance.
With a start and heavy heart, I realized why, despite the endless supply of birdseed, one never sees a 300lb chickadee.
I'm not quite sure if this is an actual courtship ritual or just an early middle school dance for fowl who flirt at flirting but still find the opposite sex kind of icky.
“Obviously a birder?” No I’m not. I just notice stuff flying around me and I use a telephoto lens to compare native birds to the illustrations in my Golden Books Birds of North America guide and to figure out who’s singing what.