Appeasing the backyard bird-feeder dreams

Some dreams latch onto your leg, pull you down, and whisper into your ear.

Some dreams grasp onto your elbow, and gently stroke the hairs on your arm. 

Some dreams swagger on by with a peacock strut and sly glimmer in their eye. 

And some dreams are the backyard bird-feeder of chatter.

There aren't enough ambitions, awards, accolades, responsibilities, duties, or morals to muzzle the buzzing, whistling, and screeching chitter-chatter of the backyard bird-feeder dream.

 Is 34 *17 degrees enough latitude for a backyard bird-feeder dream?

 (*note from a later time when I looked at a globe=34 degrees would be a much longer journey than my backyard bird-feeder dream)