Kissing cardinals. A moment dripping in sweetness.
I love hearing the song of the Indigo Bunting, “Fire; fire; where? where? here; here; see it? see it?” as I push the confounded lawn mower around on a hot day.
The Indigo Bunting is generally abundant here. I am invariably elated about that. His blue color is a trick of light performed by a feather structure that turns black to blue.
Oxeye Daisies are big fans of June.
A young Fox Squirrel is amazed by everything and hopes it’s all edible.
The lockdown called nesting can be hard on a Hairy Woodpecker.
Fishing without a license.
A Pileated Woodpecker starts a new job.
A hummingbird drinks deeply.
Lovey-dovey Eurasian Collared-Doves.
Birds are there. Why waste any time not looking at them? Scissor-tailed Flycatcher.
This Black-bellied Whistling-Duck wasn’t just whistling Dixie.
Mourning Doves in the afternoon.
It was only a year ago when I was dancing with a flamingo in Kansas.
Is every Chipping Sparrow a chip off the old block?
A female Rose-breasted Grosbeak is cuter than a newborn, speckled piglet.
Naturally
Birds teach me to listen.
I heard geese. Canada geese too young to breed, along with those that lost nests early in the breeding season, undertake a molt migration in late May and early June. They fly to northern and subarctic areas where they molt their flight feathers and spend the summer. They migrate back In September and October.
I ran outside to fill the bird feeders. I scurried like a carhop hoping for a big tip. I checked the nyjer seed feeders. Goldfinches love this seed (once commonly called thistle seed) native to Ethiopia. It's sterilized by heat treatment to deter the germination of noxious weeds. This shortens its life, making the seed vulnerable to spoilage. It spoils like milk. Nyjer contains natural high-calorie oils. When the oils dry, the seed loses food value and flavor, and is shunned by birds. Replace nyjer seed every month if it's not being eaten. Nyjer seed stays fresh for as long as three months, so buy it in amounts you'll use in that time.
A monarch butterfly polished my day. I love seeing monarchs any time, but they're particularly good to see in May.
I went for a walk. I listened closely. A noisy killdeer hobbled by on crutches. The killdeer feigned having a broken wing, dragging its bad wing while calling loudly. This display is meant to draw me away from its nest. Why would a hungry predator like me want measly little eggs when I could have a plump bird like her? The killdeer's nest was a scrape in the gravel. The eggs blended in with their background.
A yellow warbler called. The mnemonic is "sweet sweet sweet I’m so sweet." Collective nouns for this species are a trepidation or sweetness. A red-eyed vireo sang a series of slurred notes sounding as if it were counting the leaves. Perhaps it asks a question and then answers it. We've all done that.
I watched a ditch mallard stand on one leg. That probably felt good after a long day and isn't unlike me putting my feet up on my desk.
A red-winged blackbird launched a vigorous attack on a crow. The crow was likely relieved its attacker wasn't a great horned owl. Owls and crows make the Hatfields and McCoys look like best friends. I found a headless crow years ago. An owl probably ate the head. Brains are nutritious and are relatively easy to get at through the thinner bones of the skull. The juncture between head and body on birds is a weak one. The head can be removed quickly, leaving an opening into the upper torso, and allowing easy access to organ meats without needing to pulling off many feathers first.
Q&A
Donna Stolaas of Glenville asked how common scarlet tanagers are in Minnesota. They're a regular breeding resident and migrant. They are broadly distributed, but are most abundant in the north-central region of the state where they utilize mature upland forest habitats.
"How about some bird movies to watch?" The most famous is Alfred Hitchcock's classic horror story, "The Birds." It's not my favorite. "The Big Year, "Rare Birds," "The Birder," "Winged Migration," "March of the Penguins," "The Crimson Wing: Mystery of the Flamingos," "Ghost Bird," "A Birder's Guide to Everything," "The Bird Men," and "The Love God" starring Don Knotts as a publisher of a birding magazine. I didn't include series like "The Life of Birds" or animated films.
"Do you know of an online store offering birding binoculars? I'm not interested in cameras." Redstart Birding at https://redstartbirding.com. Phone: 833-262-1568. Email: info@redstartbirding.com
"Why don't you capitalize bird names in your column?" A yellow warbler might make a case for capitalizing bird names. There is a species named the yellow warbler and there are yellow warblers, which are warblers that are yellow, but any confusion can be handled with careful writing. Capitalization is generally determined by the style of the publication. Some find capitalizing every common name gives a text a cluttered look. Capitalization in academic papers fits the purpose. An argument can be made for each side, but the AP Style doesn't capitalize.
Thanks for stopping by
"To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common — this is my symphony." — William Henry Channing
"I think if you listen closely In the sweet, glad days of spring, With the song of the brook, the breeze and the birds, You can hear the flowers sing." — Helen Isabel Moorhouse
Do good.
© Al Batt 2020
A great blue heron is incapable of biting off more than it could chew, but it will attempt to eat more than it can swallow. Photo by Al Batt
A chickadee can make me smile without doing anything but being.
The Eastern Kingbird, Tyrannus tyrannus, was tops in its assertiveness training class.
It’s said that the Field Sparrow sings like a bouncing ball, but it’s much prettier than that.
You catch more flies with a dead armadillo than with honey.
The Orchard Oriole is the smallest of the North American orioles.
“Take your umbrella, “ my mother advised. We laughed. We didn’t own an umbrella. Rose-breasted Grosbeak.
The goldfinch not only got wet, it was wearing its good feathers.
The squirrel rang the doorbell, but the little people weren’t home.
A Brown-headed Cowbird without any cattle.
The early goldfinch gets the elderberry.
I wonder if a singing bird ever pauses to think, “Wow! I am really good!”
This young Fox Squirrel got its first look at hailstones and a quarter.
Hailstones outnumbering a quarter.
A Rose-breasted Grosbeak looks for a napkin after eating suet.
Virginia Waterleaf hanging around with violets.
The nyjer seed was the day’s special at the Goldfinch Cafe.
Two fox squirrels just released at our place by the good folks at the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center of Minnesota. They do good work — both the squirrels and the WRC of Minnesota.
Two fox squirrels just released at our place by the good folks at the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center of Minnesota. They do good work — both the squirrels and the WRC of Minnesota.
Toad Hall is the fictional residence of Mr. Toad in “The Wind in the Willows” and is also my yard.
Toad Hall is the fictional residence of Mr. Toad in “The Wind in the Willows” and is also my yard.
A periwinkle smile.
A Red-bellied Woodpecker male doesn’t need a haircut.
Naturally
The grackles displayed little charm as the toads produced bird-like trills. They are the hop toads of my youth.
High trees filled with leaves and plastic bags. Bags stuck in trees fluttered in the wind. These witches' knickers don't ripen there. A robin ate suet that had fallen to the ground. A robin doesn't live by worms alone. I hollered, "Mortimer get out of there" at starlings devouring suet. In Shakespeare's "Henry IV," Hotspur planned to drive King Henry crazy by use of a starling endlessly repeating the name of Hotspur’s brother-in-law Mortimer. Hotspur mused, “Nay, I’ll have a starling shall be taught to speak nothing but ‘Mortimer,’ and give it him, to keep his anger still in motion.” I've watched a gray catbird, rose-breasted grosbeak, Baltimore oriole, brown thrasher, yellow-rumped warbler, orchard oriole, chickadee, nuthatch, and woodpeckers (downy, hairy, red-bellied and red-headed) feed on suet this spring. Crows might want to. They complain, but never without caws.
"My lilac trees are old and tall; I cannot reach their bloom at all. They send their perfume over trees And roofs and streets, to find the bees." — Louise Driscoll
White-throated sparrows come in two color forms: white-crowned and tan-crowned. Individuals nearly always mate with a bird of the other form.
I listened to a rose-breasted grosbeak, a brown thrasher and a Baltimore oriole sing. Their blissful voices blended pleasantly. The first thought finding my brain was "The Chad Mitchell Trio." I'm not sure why. I don't remember a year of so many indigo buntings and gray catbirds. A friend, excited with what she'd seen outside, phoned and exclaimed, "I saw an indigo catbird!" I liked the image that pushed aside The Chad Mitchell Trio in my mind.
My spirits were high, but birds managed to raise them.
Q&A
Ruth Searle of Woodbury asked if mallards will nest again if a nest was lost. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Many hens will renest, building another nest and laying another clutch of eggs after nest predation. The new nest might be near the previous nest or far away in different habitat. Ducks are indeterminate layers and lay eggs until their clutch is complete. If a nest is lost during the laying phase, the hen can quickly renest because she's capable of producing additional eggs. If a hen is in the incubation stage when her nest is lost, she'll need more time to restart egg production. Nesting hens incubate 20 to 22 hours each day. Experienced hens begin nesting sooner than younger birds and are more familiar with food sources critical to providing nutrients necessary for egg production.
"How often do skunks have babies?" Striped skunks have one litter per year. Breeding takes place in late February or March. Gestation takes 59 to 77 days. Four to seven kits are born in mid-May to early June.
"Where do I find garter snakes?" They tend to prefer moist, grassy environments and are often found near water. They typically eat earthworms, amphibians, leeches, slugs, snails, insects, crayfish, small fish, rodents, toads and other snakes.
"Why are so many opossums run over on the road?" A Virginia opossum has a small brain for its body size and it doesn't have the best eyesight, so it might be slow to process information like a speeding Kia approaching. Research found opossums are better at remembering where food is hidden than are dogs, cats or rats. The highly-resistant-to-rabies opossum will eat almost anything — insects, worms, rodents, snails, slugs, frogs, snakes (including venomous ones), eggs, young birds, grain, fruit, nuts, grass, pet food, garbage, carrion and any ticks on its body. I wonder if opossums are bothered by pouch lint?
"Why am I seeing so many birds this year?" It might be because you're taking the time to look for them. Perhaps you're doing a better job of keeping bird feeders fed and bird baths watered. I walked in a light rain. The lack of insects drove birds to suet. I listened to the sounds. The corvids (crows and jays) of COVID-19 cawed and jeered. I enjoyed the remarkable mimicry found in the songs of the brown thrasher and gray catbird. In the new normal, the stunning quietude gives birds bigger voices. When tethered to home, we need the company and the miracle of birds.
"Would a turkey vulture eat plant matter if it were hit by a car?" If it were a pumpkin. I've watched them eat those. They do eat grapes, juniper berries and other vegetation.
"Why don't more songbirds reuse their old nests. It's because good used cars are much easier to find than good used nests.
Thanks for stopping by
"The art of life is to know how to enjoy a little and to endure much." — William Hazlitt
"Life is too short to take a highway." — Myrna Pearman
Do good.
(C) Al Batt 2020
Either my stupid smellcheck stopped working or it's time for our annual smelling bee.
Photo by Al Batt
Orange birds love oranges.
A well-red poppy.
Not many peaches do well in Minnesota. Even those that do usually don’t. This is the Contender variety.
A fiddlehead looks for a four-leaf clover.
Someone’s cat is stalking our yard’s skunk. This cannot end well.
It seems as if the lilacs leave the minute they arrive.
Flying dandelions.
A White-throated Sparrow could whistle in “The Andy Griffith Show.”
A Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher. The “little mockingbird.”
Gnats aren’t a significant part of a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher's diet.
The Blue-gray Gnatcatcher produces high, buzzy, mewing notes.
Napping with eyes wide open.
A nesting Mallard outside a bookstore.
A lovely female Indigo Bunting.
A Chipping Sparrow looks natty.
An elegant American Redstart.
by Al Batt, austindailyherald.com
May 13, 2020 12:01 PM
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Teleconference Meeting
Remember when we went trick-or-treating when we were pups?
Vaguely.
Your head was so lopsided, the holes in the mask you wore didn’t line up with your eyes. You walked into trees, cars and a large Holstein. Now you’re wearing a mask again. Cows need to be warned.
Driving by Bruce’s drive
I have a wonderful neighbor, named Bruce. Whenever I pass his drive, thoughts occur to me, such as: Not long ago, I’d received a vaccination against yellow fever in preparation for a work trip to Kenya that ended up being canceled. I thought of the yellow fever epidemic that hit Philadelphia in 1793 when George Washington (he had no wooden teeth) was president. Medical professionals had little concept of viruses and no vaccines in those days. Surgeons didn’t regularly wash their hands or instruments between surgeries. Francis Bacon said that knowledge is power and it was lacking. There was no Dr. Fauci. Much of the medical treatments consisted of mercury compounds, bloodletting and purging. People were deploringly unclean. Baths were a rarity for most and brushing teeth was unknown to many. In Philadelphia, one in 10 of its 50,000 population died of this disease. They practiced social distancing and there was a cessation of handshakes. Certain liberties were put in abeyance. Doors of residences with infected people were marked. Some cities had quarantines against refugees or goods from Philly. Toilet paper wasn’t hoarded during this plague because there wasn’t any, but perhaps corncobs were stashed. Despite the lack of social media, people recommended harebrained cures: Smoking, drinking copious amounts of wine, cleaning a house or body with vinegar, covering floors with a two-inch-deep layer of dirt replaced daily, chewing garlic, hanging a bag of camphor around the neck, or firing guns in the streets. Some hoped a hurricane would blow the fever away. The vector wasn’t identified as a mosquito until the late 19th century. I bow to science today and am glad that the physician of my youthful days, Dr. Olds, wasn’t much for bloodletting. I’ve read about dogs being trained to detect disease. Compared to us, dogs can smell in color. One day, physical exams may include being sniffed by a beagle.
Life has always been complicated, but the world has become one big, yellow light. We proceed with caution. One day chicken, the next day feathers. If we were a cartoon, discarded banana peels would cover the ground. We want explanations and villains where there might not be any.
We need Mighty Mouse. I remember his song, “Mr. Trouble never hangs around, when he hears this mighty sound, ‘Here I come to save the day!’ That means that Mighty Mouse is on the way!”
Nature notes
I watched a red-tailed hawk kiting into the wind. It was no check-kiting scheme. The wind allowed the raptor to hover while hunting. This hawk preys primarily on mammals.
The yard birds come and go. They aren’t to be confused with the Yardbirds, a rock band, whose hits included “For Your Love” and “Heart Full of Soul.” Bird migrations carry magic and wonder in their feathers. Spring migrations are more colorful as birds wear breeding plumages. Fall migration has more birds because the young birds are included.
The world is in technicolor and most birds are breath-stopping beauties, but the loveliness of some of the warblers makes for feathered jewels. I recall being a boy toiling the farm fields on a tractor without a cab one spring day. The weather had been good and bad. A little rain, some wind and then sun. I brought the tractor to a stop at the edge of a woods. I grabbed my poor man’s lunch pail (a bread wrapper) and climbed onto a low hanging branch of a lofty tree to enjoy a couple of bologna and Velveeta cheese sandwiches and a like number of sugar cookies. As I munched away, the world chirped. I looked up to see branches covered in American redstarts drooping wings and fanning tails to flush insect prey from vegetation. The males flashed orange and black, while the females, nicknamed yellowstarts, showed yellow and gray. The large number of dancing warblers made me say “Wow” more than once. Their presence made for wonderful dinner entertainment. I watched the warblers for exactly too long when I should have been working. When I resumed my labors, I wished the tractor had offered musical theater starring warblers.
Time is fleeting. It seems as if the juncos had just arrived and now, they’ve left. I’ll miss the lovely, little birds. Dark-eyed juncos nest in northeastern and north central Minnesota.
Meeting adjourned
“Kindness is always fashionable.” — Amelia Barr
© Al Batt 2020
The smiling Mallard — a Northern Shoveler.
A gull is happy when it’s down in the dumps.
I was snubbed by two jack-in-the pulpits or two jacks-in-the-pulpit.
Wild ginger.
It was thrilling to see and hear the toad trilling.
Birds rock. Let the Indigo Buntings roll.
All this beauty for a bit of grape jelly. Baltimore Oriole
As you can see from this recent selfie, I’m still struggling with being on a short leash. I hope you are doing much better. Photo by Al Batt
The Gray Catbird has cinnamon undertail coverts, but who hasn’t at one time or another?
A Gray Catbird sings its rendition of “Chain of Fools.”
A Brown Thrasher stops by for the suet special.
The perfect feeder for the Baltimore Oriole that needs to check the ingredients.