Raymond H. Bubb makes birdhouses.

Unfortunately for the birds, the structures hardly ever make it outside.

"They're really a work of art," says Lee Amigh, who helped coax the 86-year-old Bubb into making unique birdhouses as prizes for the Lancaster County Elementary Envirothon eight years ago.

One winner, claiming his birdhouse, was asked if he was eager to hang it in his yard. Oh no, the boy said. "The squirrels would destroy that in no time."

Indeed, most of the 100 or so birdhouses Bubb has lovingly handcrafted in the last 10 years sit on shelves. Chickadees, titmice and wrens get the "Sold" sign when they come knocking.

One of the appeals is that the Manheim Township man's birdhouses are miniature replicas of real buildings.

Many are outhouses, of all things.

Why outhouses? Bubb is asked. "They're old and a reminder of days gone by."

Many are outhouses Bubb has found visiting ghost towns out West, or just driving around. Some come from a book, "Nature Calls: The History, Lore and Charm of Outhouses."

He's done a two-story outhouse &tstr; deep snow in the West can bury a one-story outhouse &tstr; and a his and her outhouse.

One birdhouse is of the square, horizontally striped lighthouse at Brockton Point near Vancouver, British Columbia. There's a toolshed from Colonial Williamsburg and an old mill with a water wheel that spins.

Locally, he's done a Star Barn birdhouse and a miniature Hans Herr House.

He usually only makes one of each design, no more.

Wood used for the creations can also have an interesting past. He uses an old snow fence shipped from Wyoming and wormy chestnut salvaged from a burned-out cabin built during the Depression in a Pennsylvania state park.

Bubb and his late wife, Shirley, former president of the Lancaster County Bird Club, were locally known birdwatchers.

Ray built scores of bluebird boxes and started and maintained bluebird trails in such state parks as Gifford Pinchot, Ohiopyle, Parker Dam and Little Buffalo.

Ray and his wife took many trips out West, combining fishing for wild trout, ghost towns and birdwatching.

Ray loves Yellow Breeches Creek and fished it year-round. Until last week, the last time I saw Bubb was when he dragged me to Yellow Breeches for a day of fishing on a late-January day in 1998.

Two knee replacements and the loss of his beloved wife have mostly curtailed his fishing, birding and traveling.

Alone in his spacious West Roseville Road home, Bubb was restless. He returned to his roots.

He was a career patternmaker, designing wooden patterns to make operating room tables more efficient and models that Caterpillar used to manufacture engine blocks.

The man knows how to work with wood. The Smithsonian Institution used to have Bubb make duck decoys to sell in the museum's gift shop.

So, one day, Bubb went down to his basement workshop. He found it toasty, cozy and quiet.

He made a birdhouse &tstr; and hasn't stopped since.

He gives most of his creations to friends and relatives. The ones he sells, for $40 to $90, he only does to pay for materials.

He's taken some orders from parents of Envirothon contestants, who saw the prizes waiting on the table and just had to have one themselves.

But there is one piece of bad news. Unless your child is entered in the Envirothon or you're related to Bubb, it's unlikely you'll ever own one of his birdhouses.

"It's fun doing it, but as soon as you start selling it, something happens and it's not fun anymore," Bubb says.

So he'll keep making birdhouses at his own pace, especially for free to encourage kids around the county to care about the environment.

"The little girl who got the two-story outhouse was jumping all over the place," he laughs.

Friends and relatives have suggested that perhaps Bubb would be more satisfied in a retirement home.

He checked one and was told he could use the shop if someone else was with him at all times.

So he'll continue his labor of love at home, hunched over his wood planes and files, in the quiet, the wonderful smell of wood all around.

acrable@lnpnews.com