The Healthy Habitat

This spring we added 5 new "yard birds" to our list:  Gray Catbird, Pileated Woodpecker, Yellow Warbler, Eastern Towhee, and the Bobolink. To qualify as a yard bird, the bird must be seen or heard by you from your yard. Some people extend that definition to include "whatever you can see with a scope from your roof" as a yard bird too! No matter--the fun is seeing the birds and keeping the list. Our list has about 55 birds.  While none of these new birds are uncommon for the general area (except the Bobolink which is terribly exciting since its habitat is dwindling) their appearance in our yard gets me wondering. What is different this year? Is it the weather? Did our yard habitat change enough to be inviting to that species? Am I paying more attention and/or getting better at identification? Have they been here all along and I'm just at the right place at the right time? I suspect it is all of the above.

The Pileated Woodpecker sighting was a 5 second stint. From my seat in the kitchen I heard its earnest squawk, which increased in volume as it ascended slightly in pitch. My brain said blue jay?... squawk.... Northern Flicker? ...squawk..... Pheasant?.... squawk!!.... WOODPECKER!!! run! ....SQUAWK!.....I caught a glimpse of it on the side of the pear tree YES!!! and then it was gone in a flash of black, red, and white. DARN!  I saw him a few days later in a tree across the road, and my neighbor has seen him too. Maybe he'll be a regular - that would be really cool.

Another surprise was this guy in the picture - the polythemus moth. It arrived (hatched?) yesterday and hung out on the kitchen door until sometime overnight when I suspect he found a mate, did his thing and passed on to the netherworld.  That's its sole purpose in this ethereal form.  He was a beautiful specimen, about 5 inches across, with fern-like antennae, and translucent spots. I was disappointed to find him gone this morning, even though I knew I would jumped out of my skin if he landed on me.

With birds, toads, dragonflies, fireflies, moths, butterflies, bunnies, and bees, there is never a dull moment in our cottage garden (read: we let some weeds grow). We happily create a healthy habitat for all of us.

Barn Rules

Well, it has happened. I've missed my first every-other-Sunday posting deadline! I have been writing, but all I've got is about 5 topics in draft mode. What have I been writing about?  Rhubarb. Barn swallows. Kittens. Woodchucks. The quest for the perfect cup of coffee. Guests. Is it spring fever? More likely my brain is otherwise occupied with work (yes, my other job) on top of the regular coordination of laundry, preparing for guests, cleaning, baking, and having some fun time in between. All winter we make lists of projects, then good weather arrives and we have to cram it all in at once. We never sit down. And when we do, we fall asleep!

Here is some food for thought until I get my act together, that is, until I finish a story.  Someone gave me this list of BARN RULES right after we moved in, and I think they are as applicable to life as the Golden Rule:

BARN RULES:
If you open it, close it

If you turn it on, turn it off

If you unlock it, lock it

If you break it, admit it

If you can't fix it, call in someone who can

If you borrow it, return it

If you make a mess, clean it up

If you use it, take care of it

If you move it, put it back

If it belongs to someone else, get permission to use it

If you don't know how to operate it, leave it alone

If it is not broken, don't fix it

If it will brighten someone's day, say it

If you fall off, get back on.

There. I'm "back on" schedule.  See you in two weeks!

Boys of Spring

How far would you drive to see a particular bird? Tonight, just before dusk, I put on my red tassel cap, tossed my binoculars into the car, and drove about 6 miles hoping to catch the courtship display of the male American Woodcock. I know it sounds nerdy, but conditions were perfect:  Both the wind and rain had stopped, and the sky was white with cloud cover. I arrived at my destination cold...muddy...but full of hope. Lover-boy did not disappoint.

I am a birdwatcher. I can't help it. Watching birds is fascinating. They are amazing creatures. Some travel hundreds, even thousands of miles, twice a year, no matter what. Some feast on early berries for the long flight south, some feast on later berries when they arrive famished and exhausted. And finding a particular species is not as random as I once thought it was. If you had bluebirds in your yard last year, you will probably have bluebirds again this year and next.  Barn swallows? They return every year, probably the same birds or their offspring. A couple of years ago, one particular barn swallow--we call him Bebo--decided that our porch is much nicer and less crowded than the barn, so he found a mate and built a nest. Our guests enjoyed watching the babies fledge one by one and seeing the whole family roosting all in a row at night.

There are times, however, when a storm will blow a bird off-course or something goes wrong with its navigation system, or it passes through just briefly, and we get to see an uncommon bird in our local habitat before it perishes, as is sometimes the case, or moves on. Last Christmas we were lucky to have a visit by a Snowy Owl. He stayed until May.  Once word is out, generally via a posting by someone in the Cayuga Bird Club, people drive good distances to see the birds in the local habitat. You know you have found it when you turn the corner, and there are a dozen cars and giant camera lenses poking out from the windows. You walk over to the first person you see, they ask "Are you here to see the 'fill in the blank'?" and then they point. There it is. We all stand in silence and awe, saluting with binoculars raised. 

Back to the American Woodcock who is, by the way, one of the first spring arrivals.  It's a funny looking bird, brown spots and long bill and a waddle when it walks.  But when attracting a mate, this birds goes all out. I heard the peent...peent...peent and I waited. I was hearing at least two different birds. Without warning, he flew out from the brush in a diagonal trajectory making fast chirping sounds. He climbed higher and higher, spiraling with wings fluttering rapidly. The chirping continued until he was just a speck against the sky. Just as quickly, he dove towards the ground, spinning and zig-zagging nose first, a more melodious chirping marking his descent. Then silence, followed by peent....peent...peent.  I kept watching and listening as he repeated this sky dance three times before the darkness made further seeing impossible. Wow. I can't believe I finally saw it. Funny thing?  Lover-boy will keep doing this even after he's got the girl! 


(photo credit Michael J. Hopiak/CLO) 

Beginnings of Spring

With spring just around the corner, the snow drifts are subsiding and our front yard has come alive! Not only are the green shoots of crocus popping up, but the migration has begun. Geese, both Canadas and Snow geese, are passing through in a constant stream of honking, sometimes flying so low you can hear the flapping of their wings.  If we are lucky, and often we are, they rest and feed in the field across the road.

No matter the temperature or the weather, the birds return and get right to work. This week's arrivals are the killdeer, bluebirds (usually here year-round but not this year), common grackle, and robins all of whom are marking out their territories ahead of the next wave. Also back, and in large numbers, are the red-winged blackbirds. The male house finches, now bright pink, are carrying nesting materials. The house sparrows fight the bluebirds for the nest boxes.  Our resident kestrel munches on his dinner of vole as we arrive home from work.  Soon we'll be saying goodbye to the snow buntings and horned larks who fed in small flocks at the sides of the road.

Spring not only feels different, but it sounds different. My amazement and respect for it will never cease. I don't know whether to look down at the ground for new green growth or look up in the trees for birds. It's invigorating. And it's just the beginning!

**bonus sighting:  We saw a red fox crossing the road last evening. In a very cat-like manner, it stopped, turned, and looked at us.