Mystery Raptor

The unidentified bird of prey I wrote about on Wednesday (Surprising Hawk Poop) hung around the back yard throughout that rainy day. It seemed to be lost or forlorn or indecisive about what to do in the rain. It stayed near the ground, moving around to all the low perches in the yard---the arbors, the trellises, the benches, the birdbaths, the tomato stakes---even on the ground, where it behaved like a giant robin digging for worms.

Quite comical to watch, actually, because it seemed tentative and shy---not at all like I would have expected a hawk to behave, if it was hawk. It took careful steps on the rain-soaked ground, as if not fond of getting its toes wet, but needing to endure the discomfort to get the worm. Remembering the ribbon of poop I observed earlier in the day, I wonder if it was a sick bird.

Rain fell on and off all day, sometimes heavy rain. I imagine there were many worms on the surface, but since when do hawks eat worms? I thought they enjoyed a more gourmet diet, like birds, chipmunks, etc. And I would have expected it to take shelter from the rain, like everyone else did. The songbirds were nearly silent all day. Was that because of the rain or because there was a hawk in their house?

I got a few photos from a distance---poor photos, due to the rain and the ultimate zoom setting---but maybe they are enough for someone out there to be able to identify this lost bird of prey. Anyone? Click on the photos to enlarge them. dkm

Dr. Zinn on Bluebirds

I consulted my Indiana bird banding expert, Dr. Lisa Zinn, on the bluebird dilemma of March 9 post. Here's what she had to say.

"Bluebird populations used to be in trouble. The population had gone down considerably on the east coast. It turned out that when farmers switched from wooden fence posts (which are perfect for bluebird nests) to metal, a lot of potential bluebird nesting locations were lost. This combined with reforestation of much of the east coast was seeing a huge reduction in bluebird numbers. People rallied around the idea of putting up nesting boxes and bluebirds have come back in good numbers. I say this to emphasize that bluebirds are no longer in trouble and whether or not they successfully nest in your back yard has more to do with your personal pleasure than whether or not you are helping the survival of their species.

English sparrows are now called House sparrows in the U.S. and if you don't have them around, that makes things easier. Wrens are tricky. House wrens are very hardy and well adapted to all kinds of nesting locations. It really is fine, if you see a wren starting to use your bluebird box, to just brush out the first sticks. Your wren will have no trouble finding another spot to nest but the bluebird has very specific needs. Again, if you enjoy watching the wrens, then you can just let the bluebird go elsewhere. At Merry Lea we have maybe 40 nesting boxes. We don't clear out wrens. Probably a quarter of them will have bluebirds nesting, the rest will have nesting tree swallows or house wrens. I think that is fine and I don't interfere with whatever bird is nesting. We do spread a cayenne pepper mixture on the nest box poles to try and keep the racoons, squirrels and snakes from predating the nests. Have fun watching your birds. I look forward to having you come and help with bird banding in June."

Sounds like Bluebird Bob's book may be a bit outdated. I'm relieved to have permission to go back to just watching, which is the original intent of this blog---simply to observe and record what I see.

Surprising Hawk Poop

I can't find a single likeness in any of my bird ID books, including old Roger Tory, to the giant hawk that breezed in, silent and low, to sit for awhile in the dogwood tree at the back of the yard. Wingspan was enormous. It settled on the bare branch in the rain with its back toward me, so I know it wasn't our red-tail, unless it was a juvenile whose color is not fully developed. But too early in spring for little hawks---and this one was HUGE.

It's back and shoulders were speckled brown and white, its tail, horizontally striped shades of brown, and the top of its head was definitely white. Relatively large head, short tail---maybe an owl, but head shaped more like a hawk's.

Whatever it was, as I watched through the binoculars, it stood up tall on its legs, elevated its rear end and let go with a long liquid ribbon of pure white poop that reached nearly all the way from branch to ground before it stopped coming, a distance of 8-10 feet. dkm

Hard Dilemma

Until last year I had not seen bluebirds in the backyard. Have they just come to this area, or has my new practice of paying close attention revealed what has been here all along? Don't know the answer to that, but, as I wanted to learn more about attracting them, I sent for a free book online about bluebirding.

I learned more than I wanted to know from Bluebird Bob, namely that if you don't have the heart to trap and kill an English house sparrow, you should never install a bluebird box. Also that house wrens are a serious problem, and one should remove their early nesting sticks to prevent their setting up housekeeping in areas where bluebirds nest.

This is a classic case of being happier with less knowledge. NOW what do I do? Fortunately we don't have English sparrows here, at least I've not identified them, but what about the intense pleasure I got from observing and here chronicling my house wren families last spring from first nesting stick in April to last fledge in July?

True, I did observe the tiny bubbling but feisty house wren drive away a male bluebird twice his size. But also true, I doubt that I could ever interfere with the natural nesting habits of any bird in my yard. In defense of myself I put up the bird houses to attract wrens, nuthatches, titmice, and chickadees---never intending to attract bluebirds b/c I didn't know they were around. Does my prior ignorance relieve me of the present responsibility of preventing house wren nests? For more information, google Bluebird Bob.

Today my skybacked bluebird with the rusty breast is in and out of the box from which he was driven last summer. Here's hoping his earlier attempt at the same house this year will bring him triumph. Will see how the drama plays out when the house wrens begin nesting in April. dkm

Wonder of Wonders . . .

. . . Miracle of miracles, a pair of bluebirds is researching the copper-roofed birdhouse this morning---the same day I embark on a new game plan for the manuscript that has consumed the last five years of my life. Here's hoping the bluebirds will be my companions through this 8th, (8th! ) revision. If I complete it within a nesting season, THAT will be a miracle, too.

So I set a new goal today. Finish the 8th draft of The Wayback Letters by the time the last clutch of bluebirds fledges. (August?)

Last year, a male bluebird attempted the same birdhouse, but my feisty father housewren, whose nest I chronicled in this blog, drove him off. Mr. Bluebird must have persevered somewhere nearby, however, b/c I saw a pair of adult bluebirds occasionally throughout the 2009 season, and even spied a fledgling on the tomato stakes one day in late summer.

I've not seen or heard signs of the housewren nesters yet this season. They don't usually begin until April. Clever bluebirds beat them to it. Early bird gets the house. dkm

On the Move

Red-winged blackbirds by the thousands are moving through Decatur on their way to wetter places north. They are one of our most common songbirds and considered pests by some, but who in this part of the country, where we see them only a few weeks in the spring and fall, isn't dazzled by their bright red epaulettes underlined in cadmium yellow against sleek dark bodies? And who isn't mesmerized by the ebb and flow of their flight patterns when they weave back and forth across the sky, like a giant undulating spotted cloud?

I was lucky enough to be already standing on the back deck of the house, one story above ground level, when this morning's flock of hundreds settled first into the bare tree branches around the perimeter of the yard with deafening chatter, then with a single swoop, onto the gound, nearly covering the back lawn. I didn't move, knowing how easily they startle. As I watched, some imperceptible signal alarmed them all into taking wing as one, heading up over the house top behind me, which meant they flew straight toward my head by the beating hundreds.

I stood firm against their rapid approach without a blink, feeling as brave as The Witch of Blackbird Pond. The visual impression left by those vibrating wing tops, made orange by the mix of red and yellow, and evenly saturating the ominous blackness that fluttered directly toward me was a natural work of art I will not soon forget.
Old photo/wrong season/oak trees in background are currently bare/but shows where I stood holding my ground against the blackbirds today. The Witch of Pinetree Deck? dkm

Pure and Rounded Pearl

It's snowing outside---in Georgia! ---the kind of thick chunky whiteness one can barely see through. Every window in the house reveals a Kodak moment. The ground was covered after only ten minutes of heavy snowfall, but too warm to support the crystals for long. The birds are flocking to the feeders, which they also did at the beginning of our last snowstorm.

I have no appointments today. Wahoo! It's what I call a Virginia Woolf day---to quote her exactly, "a pure and rounded pearl."

I called my dear neighbor Frances, age 92, for permission to enter her Southern Magnolia that inspired the story I'm working on. She was delighted to share the history of the tree, planted by her husband over 60 years ago, and graciously allowed me to hide for awhile in its treehouse interior to watch the snow from inside out. I imagined myself to be Maggie, my runaway character.

When I stepped inside the darkness, created by the low thick evergreen leaves and upshoots all around me, some of which are good-sized trunks in their own right, the world became a new place, silent and safe. The contrast of the warm deep shade within to the chilly bright white without was mesmerizing. Sparing you the emotional impact the experience had on me, it was a moment to write about. Will save that for another venue---Maggie's story.

More on this spectacular tree another day. For now, notice its size next to the car. dkm

Failed Experiment

Another rainy day for another unfinished topic. On October 29, 2009, I wrote about my ongoing experiment to determine if micro-waved water had any negative effect on plant growth (after reading a claim that it is dangerous for plants and humans). I bought two nearly identical African violets and, all other factors equal, watered Plant A with filtered tap water, Plant B with filtered tap water that had been micro-waved and cooled.

After three months I was surprised that Plant B of the micro-waved water had held its bloom longer and had grown slightly larger, though both plants still looked healthy. Across three more months my surprise increased as Plant A became visibly distressed (see photo) and subsequently wilted and rotted in the pot.

Clearly, something other than water must have been wrong with Plant A from the time of purchase, because all other plants in the house thrived on the same filtered tap water, not to mention a lifetime of houseplants that have done the same.

Will buy two more African violets and try again. dkm

Forensic Conjecture

At long last arrives a day warm enough for out-sitting and for drawing inspiration from its largess. So generous has this day been with birdsong, it would be hard to choose the music of only one species about which to write. Instead, with gratitude, I pause long enough to notice the variety, the buoyancy, and the understated exhilaration of the birdsong of early spring---whether it stems from the joy of first warm days or the sexual excitement that comes with the arrival of mating season.

Before I can begin again to reflect on the ever new noticings that reward my return to the backyard, I must tie up an unfinished blog topic described on November 7 & 13, just prior to my long absence---that of the mystery of the half-bird carcass.

My daughter, Hannah, shared the mystery with one of her graduate school professors who is an ornithologist in the field of environmental education. After some Q&A e-mails, Dr. Lisa Zinn conjectured the carcass to be that of an unhealthy tufted titmouse, and I learned more from her two e-mails than from a week of observing and wondering about the unfortunate bird.

I learned, for instance, that birds re-grow all their feathers every year; that asymmetry in bird feathers indicates a mutation, or illness, or injury; and that a stray white feather and white legs both indicate loss of pigment and lack of good health.

Dr. Zinn's response takes the educational value of this blog up a notch, that's for sure. AND, excitement of excitements for an amateur birder, she has invited me to participate in a bird-banding at the time of Hannah's graduation. Wahoo!

She has also graciously granted permission for me to post her e-mails in this blog. Below is a cut-and-paste of our e-mail exchange via Hannah. I reversed the order so you don't have to scroll to the bottom to read backward. Start at the top and read down in correct sequence:

HANNAH:
hey mom--i read your blog and sent the part about your half a bird to lisa my birding professor and thought she would know but she has a million more questions. :) this is her response:

DR. ZINN:
I read your mom's blog and I don't know right off what the bird was. I need a little more info. The most important being size. I am confused by her first thinking it was a mocking bird and than a Tufted titmouse because they are very different in size. Can you find out how big it was? Also, how white were the legs? Could they have been considered light blue? How yellow was the beak? Was it yellow on the top and bottom? She said it had a yellowish breast, how yellow was that? Was it just off white or distinctly yellow? Also, was the white outer tail feather really just one feather or several feathers? Heh! I guess that is a lot of questions. If you could just find out about the size and the legs (and maybe the beak) that would help.

DEB:
Fun---and all good questions. It was an interesting muse for blog, but I would hate for Lisa to spend a great deal of time on it. Only if she can ID from the description, with no extra research. Not that important!

Size: I almost addressed in the blog the absurdity of not being able to distinguish between titmouse & mockingbird, for the very reason Lisa suggests---the disparity in size---but didn't want to go on too long. I really couldn't tell what size it was, however, because only the lower belly and legs, lower back and tail were left--- a partial lower curve of the body. The soft under-feathers on the belly and on the back under the wings were fluffed, which might have made it look larger than it was. We first thought the tail looked long, but later decided it was an optical illusion----partly because we were so close, and partly because the tail made up most of what was left. To put a measurement on it , I'd estimate it to be about four inches from where it originated to tip.

Tail: It was a definite V shape (even more defined than that of a titmouse), not rounded, or pointed (as in mockingbird) --- the white feather(s) was only on one side, making it asymmetrical in color, which I did not understand. It was not the outer feather, but maybe the second or third one in----closer to far left side than center, and the feathers on the right side of center were all gray. (maybe it was a politically liberal bird :-) All I could see was the left edge of the white feather, as the tail was not spread. It looked like a white stripe that ran the length of the tail and was about 1/4 inch wide, slightly narrower at the top, and widening toward the tip. It could have been more than one, but looked singular to me. As I type this, it makes me wonder about a Carolina Chickadee, but that, too, seems too small for this carcass. Soft back feathers at point of tail's origin were a pale gray.

Yellowish underbelly: These feathers were fluffy and almost exactly the color of the belly or sides of a tufted titmouse, sort of a pale yellowish peachy color---or maybe a warbler of some variety?

Legs: White---Possibly could be interpreted as light gray or blue, with buff or tannish colored feet. Legs and feet seemed too long for titmouse, but wondered if it was because they were thrust out in an unnatural position. Feet were definitely more tan than gray, and darker in shade than the legs.

Beak: Was wide open and I could only see the interior----like two triangles edged in yellow, black interior, but probably due to decay----about 1/2 inch sides of the triangles---the tip was a little wider than 45 degree angle, not quite 90 degrees. Seemed shorter and wider than I would have expected---more like a nestling's beak. But I've never actually observed the inside of an adult's open beak :-) Also, too late in year for nestling. I was too squeamish to look directly at it for long---and though I wanted to flip it with a stick, couldn't bring myself to touch it even indirectly. The flesh that was left on the head was too messy to describe and gives me the heebie jeebies to recall it! (had to scrunch my face to type this)

A good puzzle for a Sunday afternoon. Love, Ma

DR.ZINN:
Ok, this is some interesting information. I will respond point by point.

Size: I completely understand how different bird sizes look up close as opposed to at a distance. There is definitely an optical illusion that happens with bird sizes. However, the 4 inch tail length is a very good clue and is about titmouse size.

Tail: The forked tail can also be a bit deceiving. Almost any bird tail can looked forked if you move the feathers apart for each other a bit in the middle. We have had trouble with this in bird banding because there are a few species where you have to look for a forked tail but it is pretty hard to tell when you are up close if it is genuinely forked because you can make it looked forked or not forked depending on how you move the feathers around. It is good to know, though, that the tail wasn't pointed and the tail feather's were not rounded. The information on the white tail feather was very interesting. The fact that it was not symmetrical changes everything! This is most likely not the color that feather was supposed to be but rather a mutation. Birds re-grow all their feathers every year and it is not unheard of for a bird in poor health to grow a white feather instead of the appropriate color. Birds also re-grow lost tail feathers so it could have lost that feather due to injury and the one that re-grew was white.

Legs: The fact that the feet were also darker than the legs makes me further suspect that this was not a healthy bird. It sounds to me like it was under a lot of stress and was unable to produce the required pigments for it's legs and it's feather. Either that or it had a mutation from birth that caused it to lack some pigment.

Summary: My best guess is that this was a rather unhealthy tufted titmouse that showed clear signs of stress. Perhaps that cat put it out of it's misery :)

Thank you, Dr. Zinn!
dkm

Too Easy

Having been away so long, I find I'm out of practice at the art of paying attention. Now, cold rainy weather keeps me inside, challenging my ability to keep winter doldrums at bay. Watching the comings and goings and perchings at the new bird feeder is a suitable defense, though it feels like cheating. Somehow the regularity and ease with which I can now see such variety of bird species at close range robs the thrill of its cutting edge. Instead, I learn to discern unique styles and movements of the feeding pattern of each species---even of individuals within a species.

Yet the first thrill remains---at the length of the growing list of species that visit the feeder. All my bird ID books are going ragged. The list so far: Eastern blue birds, Carolina chickadees, Tufted titmice, Carolina wrens, orange house finches, greenish winter goldfinches, Northern cardinals, Purple finches, Yellow-rumped warblers (not sure of warbler IDs), White-breasted nuthatches, Brown-headed nuthatches, Red-bellied woodpeckers. And ground feeders on the deck floor beneath: Mourning doves, Rufous-sided towhees, and of course the ubiquitous squirrels.

Happily, the squirrels can't get to the feeder itself. They must be satisfied with cleaning up the fallout beneath it. Okay with me. Less sweeping.

I'm also hearing more whistle of hawk above since the introduction of this feeder to the backyard habitat. Here's hoping it does not make sitting ducks of the small perching birds. The increased activity has not escaped the hawks' notice. dkm