Posts Tagged ‘birds’

The Sufficiency of Small Things

November 19, 2009

When do you say, “I’ve seen it all!” or, “I’ve had enough!”? Sometimes when my husband starts talking about travel involving airplanes, I say, “I’ve seen enough!” My tolerance for airports, airlines and other air travelers has diminished as I age.

Oddly, though I’m on the trails at Hill-Stead so often, I have never felt that I’ve seen enough of them. Something always happens to pique my interest or even make me laugh. I suppose it’s just as well our trails are quiet. The sight of me walking along alone and laughing my head off might worry people. The other day I was hiking along, thinking how much fun it was looking at woodpeckers. They are amusing birds, and easy to see in any season save  high summer, which they spend skulking around so that they don’t draw attention to their babies. It must be a real strain on them, since they are utter rabble rousers the rest of the year.

Many woodpeckers look alike, so it can be hard to tell them apart. Their names seem deliberately confusing, as though the nomenclature police don’t really want people to know which one is which. The “Red-Headed Woodpecker” for example, is infrequently seen in Connecticut and it does have a very red head. But the “Red-Bellied Woodpecker”, seen commonly here, also wears a sort of red skullcap. Since people see the red-bellied often, and the red head is so prominent, most people in these parts think it is the Red-Headed Woodpecker. They have no idea that the bird also sports a pretty red mark on its’ belly, which in reality accounts for the name.

A list of woodpeckers that can be seen in Connecticut is found in stores selling birding supplies and books. You can also print one from the Connecticut Ornithological Association website. There aren’t a lot of woodpeckers on it, and one that is listed is extirpated from the state. The Red-Headed Woodpecker is listed, but is rarely seen. That leaves six woodpeckers that anyone here might reasonably expect to see. These are: Downy Woodpecker, Hairy Woodpecker, Northern Flicker, Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker, Red-Bellied Woodpecker and Pileated Woodpecker.

Most of us can identify a Downy.  They aren’t scarce, and they are the spitting image of the Hairy Woodpecker, which is harder to find than the Downy. Both have black and white “ladder” patterns on the back, and males have a distinctive red dot on the back of the head. But the Downy has a beak that is about the same length as the width of its’ head. The Hairy’s beak is far longer than that, and the bird is really much bigger overall than the Downy.

The Flicker is a charming woodie with a little chevron at the top of the chest, and a funny red Simon Legree mustache. They love to forage for ants and are known for feeding on the ground. With a brown/beige color scheme they camouflage well, and they also feed in trees.

The Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker has the habit of drilling horizontal lines of “wells” in order to sip the sap that oozes out. They re-drill the wells to keep them flowing, also eating bugs drawn there by the sweet sap  - a miracle of one-stop shopping. Woodpeckers have long tongues that roll up like fire hoses and are attached at the back of the head so they can stretch a long way into a hole or crevice.  It is shaped like a bottle brush the better to dig the food out. Scientists (and helmet companies) are studying woodpecker skulls to figure out how they handle all that pecking without sustaining brain damage. They are models of good design.

The enormous Pileated Woodpecker was the prototype for Woody Woodpecker. It has the same hammer-shaped head and crazy laugh like the cartoon bird. Pileated’s are cousin to the “Lord God Bird”, or Ivory-Billed Woodpecker. A couple of years back someone in an Arkansas swamp thought they saw an Ivory-Billed. Before that, people thought the bird was extinct, and only old folks ever remembered seeing them. By the 1940′s the bird was already rare, and when the war came and forests were logged, no one saw it any more, until the guy in the swamp. Ivory-Billed’s were known as the “Lord God” bird because people who saw the huge things would utter “Lord God!” in amazement.

The Pileated was and is found in those same swamps. The cousins are very alike. After the “Lord God” bird was supposedly rediscovered, avian search parties rushed to see if they could suss out another, but in the end it seems to have been a Pileated after all. Should you see a Pilated yourself, feel free to yell “Lord God” if you want. They are themselves an impressive bird even if they aren’t rare or the subject of million-dollar search parties and best-selling books.

So it happened that recently I was watching and listening to woodpeckers at Hill-Stead. The ever-present Downy and Red-Bellied woodies popped up and down tree trunks like mechanical birds. Pretty soon a Hairy Woodpecker made his presence known with a demanding call note and a Flicker sang out his wild call. Four different woodpeckers in less than ten minutes is pretty good. Next, I noticed a Sapsucker furtively drilling a well high up in a Hemlock. So I had five out of the six! I never figured on getting the Pileated, and I wasn’t seriously looking. Yet suddenly there it was, crazy laugh and all. What’s more, I was able to follow his flight through the trees and watch him hop into his roost. All six woodpeckers at the same time! It made me get a feel for when to say “I’ve had enough” and “I’ve seen enough”, with respect to woodpeckers anyway. Although I have seen them all, I can assure you, I haven’t seen enough!

See you on the trails,
Diane Tucker, Estate Naturalist

Goosey, Goosey Gander, Wither Shall I Wander?

October 14, 2009

Hill-Stead Pond

I have nothing against our maple-leaf-loving neighbors to the north, but I wish they’d take their geese back.   Or maybe a way could be found to discourage the goose diaspora to the United States.  The thing is, the geese keep stopping and staying here, eventually joining golf clubs and messing up everyone’s tee times.  Literally.  Ever try to play through a flock of Canada Geese?  Forget the plaid slacks-a hazmat suit would be more like it.  The course will be covered in goose guano if the flock has been there for more than fifteen minutes.  Slip in it and I’ll wager you’ll be happy to cede the game to go home and shower.

Maybe your ball lands somewhere near the flock, or heaven forbid, IN it.  The geese will  run you off the course, hissing and flapping their wings.  Don’t let them catch you, because a good peck from one of those bills really hurts.  After all, when they aren’t playing golf males use the beak to fight with other males for the favor of a lady goose, and to otherwise defend the nest or family. Geese are regularly preyed upon by skunks, coyotes, ravens, crows and domestic dogs, so that beak is powerful.  One thing you can say about a gander -they’re good family men.  Canada Geese are extremely social (with each other) and form strong family bonds. The gander will go to great lengths to keep the brood safe. And female geese are pretty fierce, too.

The Canada Goose is considered migratory, and it largely remains so.  Still, in ever-increasing numbers this handsome bird is finding conditions in the U.S. to its liking and putting down roots. Flocks frequently take over golf courses, suburban lawns and other grassy areas near water. Soon the water is fouled by fecal matter produced due to their rapacious appetite for vegetation. An individual goose can make about a pound of “fertilizer” a day.   In a way, Canada Geese are a little like flying cows.

Why do the geese stay?  In some cases, it’s simple.  People feed them.  Also, golf courses, school campuses and similar spots are, from a goose point of view, perfect places to raise a family.  There is plenty to eat and perfect nesting conditions.  The ideal location has water with unobstructed views all around, the better to see predators sneaking up.  Reservoirs and golf course water hazards are made-to-order.   Once a goose couple have tried a spot and liked it, they’ll bring family and friends back in exponentially increasing numbers year after year.  Before too long, the chromosome that determines migratory behavior can even change, so that the goose doesn’t get the signal to move on and the bird becomes a year-round resident. 

Because Canada Geese make such messy, upsetting neighbors, many methods are used to scare them away.  In rural areas, where geese can make short work of grain fields, air cannons scare them off.  Some golf clubs use dogs for hire that run around putting the geese up in the air.  There are coyote decoys which work as long as someone moves them around.  If left in one place, the birds quickly figure out the ruse.  Some communities even have “egg addling”.  This is shaking the eggs so that they become scrambled egg in situ.  Bitter chemicals are sometimes sprayed on vegetation so the birds will go find less pungent chow.  The danger is that the chemical effects other than bitterness are not yet known.  Of course, many states allow for a limited season of hunting, and it must be said that Canada Geese have fed people in the northern hemisphere for hundreds of years.

Goose migration is a leisurely affair, with many stops to eat and rest so they arrive at their wintering grounds in good shape.  Families travel together, most often as part of groups that form the familiar “v”  as they fly.  The “v” helps birds take advantage of the slipstream from the bird in front, minimizing drag and enabling the group as a whole to fly for longer.  Geese mate for life, though if a mate should die, the remaining goose “remarries”.  Goslings that survive their first year often return with their parents to nest alongside them. This is one way flocks get big so quickly. Geese can live a long time-in captivity up to forty years. Wild geese don’t have that kind of longevity, but they can last longer than many smaller birds. So flocks that get big tend to stay that way.

We remain happily gooseless here at Hill-Stead.  Our pond is surrounded by vegetation-anathema to cautious geese.  Certainly some stop off for a quick feed, but none have tried to linger.  Just as well.  It’s a long drive to Canada, and I’d hate to think what they’d do to my car on the way.

See you on the trails,
Diane Tucker, Estate Naturalist

A Murder of Crows, a Scold of Jays

September 28, 2009

 

You can’t hear yourself think in the woods lately.  Henry David Thoreau wrote in his journal that, “Silence alone is worthy to be heard, silence is of various depth and fertility, like soil”.  Well, he definitely didn’t write that one on an early fall day.  The Blue Jays and Crows spend them screaming like banshees!

 As fall approaches bird behavior changes quite a bit.  During the summer many nesting birds skulk around trying to raise their young inconspicuously.  They keep quiet so predators can’t find them.  As babies mature, family groups call to one another, fledglings beg for more easy meals.  But it’s all pretty much sotto voce.

When the  nip of autumn begins, the woods errupt with the raucus sound of crows and jays organizing themselves for the winter.  Blue Jays are pretty, and kind of flashy with their bright color scheme and stylish lines.  Crows lack the jay’s style, but impress with their size and outsized call.  They are both members of the Corvid family of birds, known for their intelligence and mimicry.   Crows are among the smartest of birds and are known for their use of tools.

This time of year corvids sort themselves into groups.  The job requires alot of calling back and forth, and I’d say the jays take the prize for most loquacious.  They have a large repertoire of sounds and calls and they remind me of a motorcycle gang revving their engines as they speed through town.

Crow flocks are different from Blue Jays’.  Crows don’t hang out together all day, they just group together at night in a roost.  These roosts can contain many thousands of birds, much to the horror of people living near them.  The noise is deafening, and the mess-!  There are many theories why crows and some other blackbirds roost in this way. It may be for safety, warmth or even a more efficient way of finding of food.  There used to be a huge crow roost down by Park Road in Hartford near the highway.  You could see crows from all over the county heading for it in the late afternoon.   About a year ago, it mysteriously disappeared. 

  Blue Jays buddy up into smaller groups, and spend the fall careering around eating acorns.  They love to visit feeders, and will take suet as well as seed.  When folks get sick of feeding maurading gangs of  jays, they often bring their feeders in.  Don’t bother.  The birds check back periodically and once the feeder is out again they recommence their visits.  I told you they were smart.

See you on the trails,
Diane Tucker, Estate Naturalist

I Swan! A Great Egret!

September 6, 2009

 

Sometimes my eyes play tricks on me.  The other day I thought I saw a mute swan on the pond.  I was not pleased.  I most certainly do not want swans on ”my” pond.  While lovely to look at, and evocative of ballet and fairy stories, they are a menace. Mute swans are an “introduced” species, that is to say brought here by artifical means.  Highly aggressive, they  quickly clear a body of water of any other fowl.  The balance of an ecosystem can be affected in very little time.  While the population explodes, they eat up vegetation on the bottom of the pond, sometimes driving valuable plants to extinction. 

Looking again, I saw long legs.  That “swan” had a pair of gams that Anne Miller would be proud of!  It was a Great Egret.  During the spring and summer egrets of several kinds are not uncommon on our shoreline.  But in Farmington, fifty miles or more from Long Island Sound, an egret is something of an event.  This one may be  a migrating bird perhaps using the nearby Farmington River to head south. 

good egretI have never before seen an egret at Hill-Stead. We  sometimes get sandpipers feeding on our little mudflat, but it’s not a steady thing.  That’s about it for shorebirds.  In migration we get some nice ducks.  But egrets, no.

Egrets and swans have good  stories.  The egret is the symbol of the National Audubon Society.  At the end of the nineteenth and the early twentieth century, egrets were hunted nearly to extinction due to the fashion of using their plumes in the hat trade.  As Audubon Societies sprung up  and with the passage of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918, egrets rebounded.  Today they are not of any specific conservation concern.  Using an impressive beak  they are a graceful predator of small fish, frogs and other aquatic fauna.   Egrets are sometimes hard to spot.  Standing motionless for long periods they wait for the right moment and in the right light cannot be seen until they strike. 

Swans are native to Northern Europe and Central Asia.  A big bird, in historic days it was considered by royalty to be tasty eating.   Indeed, the custom of “swan upping” in England is an annual census of the swans on the Thames River.  The tradition comes from the monarchy’s protection of  its game birds.  To foil poachers, all swans were marked as the property of the Crown, so cygnets (baby swans) were marked as such each spring.  Today the census is used more for educational than gustatory purposes. 

Around the time the Great Egret was being saved from extinction, swans were being imported to America for their stylish looks.  Essentially an accessory or fashion statement, the bird’s regal bearing was  just right for the huge estates of Long Island and the Hudson Valley.  Today, a pair of swans runs about $500.  I heard somewhere that a flock of swans currently numbered at about 14,000 started with five imported birds on some Long Island Estate.  Caveat emptor.

See you on the trails,


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