The frost killed all my flowers and only a few hardy survivor plants are struggling in the cold winter ground. Soon, they too will yield to the cold. Winter birds scurry around the bird feeder looking for food. It is depressing to look out my window, but I have an idea.

In the attic, I have about a dozen old bird houses inherited when my dad passed away. It is too cold for the birds to build nests now. However, the bright colors would add a happy note to the dreary landscape.

Daddy had a workshop in the old tin garage behind his house near the garden. He loved to piddle with wood and build things. Benches, tool boxes, and bird houses were his specialty.  He had given all the kids and grandkids more birdhouses than they had room to hang. Anyone he liked received a bird house.

His birdhouses were not the fancy decorated ones like you see in stores. They were real birdhouses, the kind birds actually live in. There is something about knowing a birdhouse is functional, not just a decoration, that appeals to me.

Online I had seen a picture of bird houses displayed on an old wooden ladder. As luck would have it, I had an old wooden ladder that I had not yet thrown away. It was not safe for climbing any more, but it will easily hold birdhouses.

I went upstairs to the attic. I dragged the old wooden ladder downstairs, through the house, and out to the muddy yard. When cleaning the attic, I had rediscovered the birdhouses. One of them was a large purple martin house. It used to be nailed to a pole in daddy’s back yard.

I arranged the birdhouses on the ladder. The overflow went to a shelf on the fence. I use this shelf for plants in the summer. Daddy had once decided that his plain houses needed to be decorated. He tried to paint flowers and decorations on some of them. His wood working skills greatly exceeded his artistic skills.

I put them all outside anyhow and they were bright and cheerful, painted in greens, blues, and reds. Every time I look out the window, they make me smile. 

No bird will move into them during the cold weather. Next spring, I will need to move them. I will space them further apart. I will put them where they are safe from the neighbor’s cats. For now, though, they look great just as they are.

So, I’ve now become bird house buff. I’ve started scouring Pinerest, Etsy, Amazon, and eBay to look at different styles and types of houses. I am shocked at the prices, but intrigued by the variety and design. Some are like miniature models of houses. Some have decorations like keys, knobs, or other hardware. Some are painted with elaborate decoration. Others are rustic, covered with twigs or moss.

I decided that what I like is the natural look of wood, bark and moss. The birds do not really care whether the house is fancy. They want something that will give shelter and deter predators. I had already had one of my older houses claimed by wasps. Nothing will run away birds faster than invading insects or animals.

I have disguised some of daddy’s more flamboyant artwork, painting some of the houses in more subdued colors. I’ve added moss and bark to a few roofs. The only hardware added was a horseshoe that used to hang over the door to daddy’s garage. Somehow it seems appropriate.

The one of a kind, rustic bird houses made by hand will always be distinctive. You can mass produce bird houses that look better. However, you can’t mass produce the love daddy put in each of his creations.

Copyright 2014-2025 Sheila Moss