Birdwatching

Bright New Year

January 1, 2017 – Looking out the kitchen window this morning, our sunny thermometer reads 44°F, but I don’t believe it. A quick check of the NWS website confirms my suspicions… it’s only 28°F. Still, that’s not too bad for early January. I repeat that to myself as I put on my barn coat and head for the garage. The coffee’s brewing, but I’ve found that I can’t really enjoy my morning cup until the birds have been fed. Silly, really, because the birds would do just fine without me. Nevertheless, I scoop out some peanuts for the bluejays, cardinals, and titmice and fill up the peanut feeder. Then it’s two more trips from the garage to the back fence with sunflower seed to fill up the feeders for the sparrows, the wrens, and the chickadees. These birds are our “regulars,” although we occasionally see a nuthatch and the red-bellied and downy woodpeckers. Of course, the grey squirrels just eat anywhere and everywhere–we’ve long since stopped trying to “squirrel-proof” the feeders. They’re all welcome here.

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Looking out the back sunroom windows

Back in the house, I find a comfortable spot in the sunroom with my coffee, a blanket, and Samson. With everybody fed (including Samson), I can now watch the backyard wildlife activity essentially guilt-free.

The small, fluffy brown sparrows are at the feeders almost before I get back in the house. They benefit from the thick wall of English ivy growing in the back corner of the yard–perfect shelter and almost-perfect cover from the hawks and cats. The ivy leaves rustle and the vine tendrils flap as the sparrows zip in and out with their seeds.

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Lush English ivy provides good cover for small birds…
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…but the hawk is always watching nearby.

Closer to the house, the peanut feeder provides some really amazing viewing. The blue jays glide in from the nearby power lines like feathered jet aircraft on final approach, announcing  their intent to land with a startling hawk-like cry. They are the most adept at piercing and extracting peanuts still in the shell, usually arriving and leaving before I can grab my camera.

The cardinal and the titmouse are less skillful, yet incredibly determined… and this persistence pays off. If, after a bit of tug-of-war, they can fly off with a peanut in the shell–great! That seems to be the preferred method, and you can’t blame them for wanting a bit of privacy while eating breakfast.

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Peanut tug-of-war

However, sometimes things don’t go as planned, and they wind up just pecking through the shell and eating the peanuts at the feeder. Either way, a meal is achieved.

The squirrels just go for brute force, often destroying the feeder in the process. We’ve found that the wire (heavy wire) feeders last the longest, but often need some modification. Joe had to fasten this feeder’s top more securely to prevent the squirrels just dumping the contents all out at once. Now, they still manage to empty it in record time, but at least the other birds have a chance to get their fair share, too! But they have to be quick…

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We got three cute seed cakes from my brother for Christmas, each shaped like an owl’s head. Joe attached one of them to the bottom of the bird feeder. Here’s a sweet titmouse grabbing a quick bite:

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This lasted only a day before we found the seed cake head in pieces on the ground… we suspect squirrels. Seed cake head #2 is hanging from the corner of the shed roof. So far, it has survived about a week. Perhaps the squirrels don’t like the slippery shed roof. As long as there’s easier and tastier pickings elsewhere, we may never know… but squirrels usually find a way.

 

Seasons

Early Fall Morning

Nothing sounds the alarm like a bluejay. There is something going on deep in the woods this morning. I know this because the bluejays have been alerting the area and spreading the word for the last 20 minutes. We may never know the exact situation… perhaps one of the outdoor cats is on patrol, possibly a red-tailed hawk is circling, or it could be a human intruder. Now, the cardinals join in, adding their low-pitched “chip” to the piercing crow-like “caw” of the jays. Then, the red-bellied woodpecker and the chickadees add their two-cents worth, and there are a few more calls that I can’t quite identify. For a while, this wild discordant “noise” dominates the area, impossible to ignore. My grey tabby, Rose, listens and stares intently at the backyard from her window seat. Neither of us can see what’s going on, though Rose gives the impression that she knows.  Then quickly, the noise fades. Suddenly, it’s quiet. The threat has passed; the area is secure once again and everyone can get back to the business of the day.

These relatively brief yet intense episodes happen frequently. They remind me of how much is going on in nature “behind-the-scenes.” Often, on a cool, still morning such as this, I think about all the dramatic scenes that are being played out inside and outside of my own backyard. It boggles the mind. Even now, in the the distance I can hear a hawk screaming and another jay scolding. A small grey squirrel scampers along the back fence. What’s his mission? Hummingbirds fight over the nectar feeder, zooming back and forth with incredible speed and then alighting on a branch to glare at each other. A faded-red cardinal works to feed his two hungry chicks in a nearby bush. The babies flutter their wings with great energy and cheep constantly… great hunger or simply the typical behavior of a growing young cardinal? How much of what we see and hear is interpreted by humans to be dramatic and how much is just day-to-day living in nature’s realm? And maybe, there is no difference….