Well, they didn't come at all to the oatmeal and raisins I left for them within sight of the bluebird house.

So, today with all the sleet falling and those bluebirds coming in and out of their house, I decided to deliver some raisins right to them. I donned a heavy coat and trekked out to the bluebird house with handful of raisins in my bare hand. Lo and behold, the hole of the bluebird house was filled with snow--and I knew the poor birds were stuffed inside. I'd counted all seven of them flying there and stuffing themselves in. But what! This wasn't a snow-packed hole, but a bluebird's belly sealing off the hole. Those birds were stacked one on top of the other with only room for the last bird to pack his poor belly against the hole. Must have been plenty of warmth in there. Anyway, I left raisins all about: on top of, underneath, and even on the edge of the white-feathered hole. Last bird didn't like that at all, and as soon as I walked away, he flew out followed by one other bird. But they returned.

So, the next time you're out walking along the countryside in winter and see bluebird boxes above the fallen snow (at least in Virginia), imagine those boxes packed to the brim with stacked bluebirds. Not exactly a pie and not exactly blackbirds, but birds of a feather do lie together.