The toughest month of all

I nearly stopped feeding the birds after being greeted in my yard by a particularly loud cardinal singing overtop hundreds of other avian creatures on a March day where the mercury rose close to 80.
Whether that particular bird sang for a mate, I do not know. Frankly, I'm not 100 percent sure the practically glowing red bird was a cardinal, because by the time I got my wife's attention to bring the binoculars, it had flown.
It remained brightly at the edge of my vision while perched. The information coming from heights of the tree on my neighbor's property reached my ears better than my eyes.
Whatever it was, the bird had a long, loud and persistent call for those minutes. It sang like I've never heard.
The effect of all the songs arrested me in mid dog walk. I don't think I've ever noticed as many calls before, not even in the deepest depth of woods.
The same day, not wanting to get behind in the yard any more than I already am, I grabbed my shovel to work on one of my many earthmoving projects.
Beginning as more cleanup of one of last year's projects than anything else, I still threw dirt around for several hours, not only moving dirt so that it sloped away from my foundation, but also trying to step down the hillside for eventual planting.
I had lots of little companions.
My basket-shaped birdfeeder stood on its shepherd's crook at the corner of the house, and persistent little goldfinches kept swooping down on it.
The farther I moved from the feeder, the more they came — wearing their duller winter colors, drab grey with streaks of white and black.
In summer, goldfinches remind me of escaped parakeets, having molted and grown vivid yellow feathers back. They're not called goldfinches for nothing.
I see a lot of goldfinches year round. Members of this species best realized that my plantings of sunflowers and allowing volunteer thistles to grow in spring and summer came from my desire to benefit wildlife. And goldfinches similarly started descending first to eat the sunflower seeds that I filled up my one feeder with.
For weeks, I saw no reason to feed the birds this winter until the temperature dropped to the teens and stayed there. 
Slate-sided juncos joined goldfinches on the ground under the feeder at first. They disappeared and left mostly finches and a few common sparrows.
While digging there, I noticed my shovel turned up a profusion of worms. I figured that with the  almost "summery" days and with more food becoming available soon, that it was okay just to let the birds peck the last few seeds out of the feeder and call it a season.
Well, an online link to eNature.com sent to me from the National Wildlife Federation arrived in my inbox just in time to tell me that I couldn't be more wrong.
"March is the most difficult month of the year for birds to find adequate food to survive winter in most of North America," the article said. "That’s because the supplies of natural food....last year’s seeds, fruits, berries and insect eggs and larvae...are at their lowest levels after months of birds feeding on them."  
All of last year's seeds and berries have been eaten by this time, it goes on to say. I can confirm that in my yard — with birds having to compete for food not only with each other, but also with deer that consumed berries on my holly shrubs by starting with the leaves and branches and chewing every morsel off right to the stem. Little if any food is left.
So armed with the correct information, I've happily filled my birdfeeder several times since and watched as finches flocked to it. Too many for the seeds supply, in fact, so I've also scattered some on the ground, too.  
I'm going to have to stop being so measured in putting out birdseed and show greater empathy for the creatures in their toughest month of the year. 

Making of a LEEDer

Builders dedicating green structures will reap rewards while minimum-effort developers will pay the price in Portland, Ore., under a new sustainable building proposal.
Officials in the West Coast metropolis (formerly nicknamed as Stumptown for its active timber sector) want to green new large-scale developments through a system of fees and rebates based on attainment of Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design standards, also known as LEED, according to sustainablebusiness.com
Developers working on sizable commercial projects could, under this proposal, put up new structures to merely satisfy the minimum Oregon building code, the article states. But those who only meet minimums like that would have to pay a fee to the city of up to $3.46 per square foot in the building.
As this so-called "feebate" structure would apply to commercial buildings of more than 20,000 square feet, the costs of those bare minimum improvements would prove a significant financial penalty for the developer.
A commercial building at 20,000 square feet would tack another $69,200 to the project under this program.
However, developers that go the extra mile and get levels of LEED certification on their buildings could have the fees waived or even get a rebate for earning the highest efficiency ratings for the facilities, the article says.
Those that install enough features like on-site renewable energy generation, water-efficient landscaping, controls on the heat-island effect or light pollution, use certified renewable lumber, choose suitable land and earn enough points on the LEED scorecard to reach the second tier of certification, or silver, won't have to pay extra fees.
And those developers who earn the gold or platinum LEED certification would get a financial reward from Portland, described as rebates ranging from $1.73 to $17.30 per square foot.
Multifamily residential developments would face similar disincentives for taking the easy route in construction and similar incentives for building better than required.
There rebates could range from 51 cents to $5.15 per square foot, depending on LEED ratings.
Portland officials would like to see a green revolution in single-family homes too.
The proposal states the city would set a goal of 20 percent of new home construction that earn LEED certifications in 2009.
If that goal isn't met — and if the number of new homes with LEED ratings doesn't jump again to 40 percent in 2011 — the city will apply the same feebate system as on commercial structures to residential homes.
Officials from Portland, which has adopted the motto "The City that Works," told Sustainable Business they expected the fees gathered from underperforming buildings would pay for the rebates to the certified LEED buildings.
Still in public hearing mode on the proposals, the reactions have been overwhelmingly supportive, the article says.
"About half the respondents in a public comment period think the policy is appropriate for the city," it quotes an official from the city's Bureau of Planning and Sustainability. "Another 40 percent say it's not stringent enough, and about 10 percent don't support the policy. "
The motivation to implement the incentives comes from the fact that Portland cannot enforce building codes more stringent that Oregon's.
LEED ratings come from the U.S. Green Building Council, and participation is voluntary.
The council calls LEED standards "the nationally accepted benchmark for the design, construction and operation of high performance green building."
LEED, they say, "promotes a whole-building approach to sustainability by recognizing performance in five key areas of human and environmental health: sustainable site development, water savings, energy efficiency, materials selection and indoor environmental quality."
Making LEED certification more attractive to the mainstream not just the "greenies" through incentives serves as Portland's real innovation here.
Earning rebates or avoiding fees will make more developers cognizant of LEED building practices and increase the program's everyday relevance.
That's makes Portland a real leader in terms of sustainable development.
More cities should consider following the feebate path that Portland has blazed.