Category: birbs

A commission for the wildly wonderful Jess to end off the year. 💜

We take our big break in the winter. Our kerchief and our cap, the woodstove, the furry animals, and the snowy woods have all been waiting patiently for us. Our invisible internal batteries — brains, hearts, and spirits — are blinking red. Time now to rest and recharge.

Happy Winter Solstice everyone! ❄️ Have a wonderful holiday season and see you in the new year 💙

~Kate & Neil

Ruffed grouse nest!!

My love of the “Thunder Chicken” runs deep. So I was ecstatic when we came across this ruffed grouse nest at the base of a tree.

Neil and I were walking the woods when a grouse flushed from the brush beside us. That’s not so unusual here, but she was calling as she flew away, which is a bit unusual. Given the time of year, we had a quick look for a nest — and found one! I snapped this pic and we skedaddled out of there, to leave her in peace.

Ruffed grouse nest in hollows on the ground. Like this one, they’re often concealed at the base of a tree, or next to a log. The birds are incredibly well camouflaged in dappled deciduous woods. I now know exactly where this nest is, with mama sitting on the ground, and I still find her tricky to see.

Only 4 eggs were visible when we found the nest, though the hen may lay as many as a dozen or so eggs in total. Spot the feathers she’s added to the nest! In the photo below you can see what the nest looked like four days later — if you didn’t know the eggs were there…

This nest is close to a path we have to use. I’ve taken these two photos while mama hen was off the nest, but I know my attention is not helpful to her or her future babies. For the next month while she incubates and the babies hatch, we’ll dial down our frequency on that trail and pass by as quickly and respectfully as possible.

I love love love that the woods has its secrets. There’s no bulletin board listing who is nesting today. For every nest I see, there are probably a dozen I don’t. Moments like this remind me that even when I’m paying all the attention I have, I’m only glimpsing the tip of the iceberg. Life abounds.

~Kate

Source:

More information on how and where birds nest — among many other fabulous facts — can be found in “The Birder’s Handbook” by Paul R. Erlich, David Dobson, and Darryl Wheye

A good omen yesterday: a little flock of cedar waxwings flew into our cedars to feast on the berries.

I could flap my gums and wax eloquent about these softly beautiful birds, but first let’s look at the tree they are feasting on: Eastern Red Cedar (Juniperus virginiana).

I love this tree. It’s a scrubby scrappy tree. One of the first species to grow back in damaged or eroded land. It is also a far and away favourite of the critters that visit here. The bright blue “berries” — the female cones — are recklessly munched by red squirrels and most other passersby. I think it is not considered a pretty tree, but I don’t consider that consideration well considered.

The blue cones of these junipers take three years to mature – year one they flower, year two the cone turns green, and year three they are sky-blue and ready for harvest. The Eastern Red Cedar berry is listed in the Slow Food Foundation’s “Ark of Taste”: a project to recognize and draw attention to “small-scale quality productions that belong to the cultures, history and traditions of the entire planet.”

“Eastern red cedar berries are related to common juniper berries but are superior in flavor. They are mild without the turpentine notes and bitterness of common juniper. They are almost sweet, with a woodsy piney flavor.”

~ Slow Food Foundation for Biodiversity

Cedar waxwings engage in beak rubbing, dances, and food sharing as displays of courtship, and “[o]lder birds pair preferentially with each other”. As I look over at my mate of 20 plus years, I get it. I may not secrete a red waxy substance from my feather shafts, but between their food sharing and their love of the eastern red cedar, me and the waxwings have a lot in common.

~Kate

Selected Sources: The Birder’s Handbook by Paul R. Ehrlich et al; The Slow Food Foundation Ark of Taste Project

Think I heard my first Eastern Phoebe of the year!

The chickens and I were outside doing our stretches. I was doing physio for my arm (it is possible I overdid it, using a pickaxe to liberate our icy driveway last month), while the chickens were running around looking for slugs and bugs.

I was enjoying listening to the morning birdsong, when a familiar determined trill popped out from the robin-dominant din. A phoebe!

I wasn’t familiar with phoebes before we moved here. They’re adorable little flycatchers, with forked tail feathers that flick distinctively whenever they’re sat on low perches, waiting to snatch their next bug from the air.

A phoebe has nested on our house at least as long as we’ve lived here, and possibly before that. Phoebes will reuse their nests, after doing some refurbishing, so we leave the nests in place and intact year-to-year, snugged up under the roof’s overhang.

Last year the phoebe that usually nested on the back of our house built a new nest on the front instead — possibly a consequence of something-not-us mutilating their nest beyond repair while the phoebes were away for the winter. (I don’t know for certain it is the same phoebe nesting, or at least the same family line. But given that the oldest known phoebe was 10 years and 4 months old, I guess it’s possible!)

The change in nest neighbourhood was wonderful for us though, as the phoebe’s new nest was by a large window, so we were able to watch all their comings and goings — and fledgings! Bird TV. We’d witnessed part of one fledging in a previous year. We were standing by the bedroom window when a very very tiny phoebe (which are already pretty tiny to start with) landed on the little framed edge of our bedroom window, breathing heavy and looking like this whole flying business was quite new, exciting, and scary. A-dorable.

The other birds don’t appreciate the phoebe’s claiming of the front of our house as much as we do. I usually have a window-mounted feeder on that same large window, but we had to take it down last year. The phoebe was very territorial, and took to “giving the bird” — dramatic maverick-style swooping attacks — to any interloper who tried to pop by for a snack. I decided to remove the temptation, and took that feeder down until the phoebes had moved on.

It is very satisfying and exhilarating though to watch these incredibly agile and nimble little fighter pilot birds in action. Their swoops and banks and high speed catches of bugs from the air are spectacular to watch. I mean, they are catching bugs mid-flight! Last year was particularly enjoyable, as the phoebes were at least reasonably happy to include LDD moths on their menu. We had just ridiculous number of caterpillars (until their collapse) last year, so seeing the phoebe munching away on them was a delicious sight.

Sights – and sounds – of spring continue…

~Kate