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Mon 16 Jan, 2006 09:16 am
Every morning when i step outside for a cigarette just after daybreak, the sparrows are sitting in the shrubbery waiting to be fed. If i have forgotten to bring bread for them, they fly away. I suspect that either they have "lookouts" (i have heard what sounds to me to be the same call in the backyards of the neighborhood), or they routinely check certain areas, because if i have forgotten, and go back inside to cut up some stale bread and take it back out and throw it in the yard, the fact that there are no sparrows there at the time doesn't signify--they'll be back, and soon. It is fascinating to watch them (they trust me, but not the dogs--they'll feed in front of me, but fly up into the bushes or onto the fence if i let the dogs out). They can see tiny crumbs of bread which are invisible with my visual accuity, which is not to be wondered at; they will eat the "invisible" crumbs, but prefer to take one of the cubes (about 1/4" on a side) and fly off to eat it undisturbed--although that's often a faint hope, as they frequently chase one another in order to "steal" bread from one another. Smart ones fly up onto a relatively large, flat surface (relative to the size of a sparrow). The manner in which they pick a piece off the bread cube which they can swallow causes them to "throw" the bread cube. Those who have flown up into the bushes therefore drop the bread as they take each bite and are obliged to fly down to pick it up again, often losing it to another bird. The smart one's land on one of the tables in the back yard, or on the up-ended trash cans, and then when they "throw" the bread while breaking it up, it remains nearby for them to continue to feed.
The local squirrels often come around to get some bread. As i believe it true that they store food, i have less sympathy for them, and all i need do is open the back door and say "squirrel" in a loud voice, and the dogs come boiling out to chase off the hated squirrels. One dog will also chase the birds, and the other doesn't. The sparrows know the difference, and fly up higher if the bird-chasing dog appears, but ignore the other dog.
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This morning, i saw what i am fairly certain is a mating pair of cardinals. They were definitely cardinals, of that i have no doubt, and one male and one female by the plumage. The female is almost totally brown, and only recognizable as a cardinal by small traces of scarlet and the shape and size. I was surprised to see some drab "fluff" on the plumage of the male--perhaps something to do with winter. They flew up into the evergreen bush in the backyard when i came out, and they obviously had been feeding on the bread i had thrown out earlier.
I know i could look this up online, but i prefer personal answers from those whom i know and trust. Is it true, as i believe i have observed, that the cardinals prefer an evergreen in which to build a nest? I think i may not see them again, because i am frequently out in the yard as are the dogs. Is it true that cardinals are more wary of people and dogs than are the other birds common to backyards in North America? Can anyone state with certainty if the male grows an insulating coat in the winter which would account for what i thought i saw, a drab "fluff" over his scarlet plumage?
Fascinatin' critters, the little birdies . . .
I love cardinals. We have a breeding pair, and they nest in a pine tree, but I know nothing about general nesting habits beyond that. The male stays nice and red throughout the winter, but it's more temperate here (as you well know).
As for wary, I'd say an emphatic "no" with these two -- the male is quite bold, the female less so but bolder than many other birds. The male and I often regard each other at fairly close quarters; he flies up and looks at me through the window, I look back, he looks from several different angles, I wait, he gets bored or determines I'm mostly harmless (sometimes after a LONG time) and flies off.
I see him less when I'm outside, but I do see him when I'm doing yard work, usually busy with something but as close or closer than other birds.
Until I get close to his nest (this is how I figured out where it was) and then both of them get way aggressive.
Fascinatin' . . . i would like to think that we'll see them again . . .
We were walking back to our car after breakfast on Saturday (there's a bird-related point, I swear!) and when we got close enough, about eight or so sparrows flew up and out from under the wheel well. It was pouring rain, so they had been taking shelter there. I think when I hit the remote to unlock the car, that roused them to get up and out of there.
I've got a book on bird behavior at home, I'll try to dig it out this weekend. They're very intreresting critters.
Set--
If you wanted to give the sparrows a special treat you could scatter a few morsels of cheese with the bread crumbs. In frigid weather you could be a real Wildlife Chef and deep fry the bread. Gourmets use beef fat, but olive oil is acceptable. Bacon fat is too salty.
Cardinals--like many other birds--drab down for the winter. Come spring, the male will return to courting plumage, particularly if you have a supply of sumac berries. A diet of sumac berries makes red feathers super-red. Both super-red cardinals and super-red breasted robins have an edge in courtship competition.
I ain'ta cookin' fer the greedy little perishers . . . they can have diced stale bread, and be glad of it . . .
Set--
Can you handle a knife and a peanut butter jar?
I'm already weildin' a knife when i cut it up for the little perishers . . . they should learn to count their blessings . . . maybe if i'm feeling nice some day, i'll buy 'em a suet ball . . .
Set--
You're all heart--although your cardiac organ has a high silicone content.
Lotsa huge sumac trees in this neighbourhood. Several of them are bigger than any of the maple trees around. So - lotsa nice berries.
I've got a nice saskatoon berry shrubbery - the berries seem to have been cleaned out for some time.
A large branch fell a neighbour's tree and into the backyard during a windstorm in the autumn. I considered tossing it over the fence back into the neighbour's yard - and then realized the birds were having fun with the downed branch.
The cardinals are on the block year-round, and seem to be getting more attached to my yard and a couple of surrounding yards.
The Pathfinder's feeding routine probably plays into that, as I've never been a proponent of feeding backyard birds. I'm sure they appreciate his attention to them.
Speaking of birds, I have an interesting story involving a bird of the predatory nature.
I was pulling into my driveway at the crack of dawn a couple of summer ago. There is a row of red cedar on one edge of my driveway so when I approach from that direction the driveway is essentially invisible.
As I rounded the corner of the driveway I was surprised to see a hawk sitting on a rabbit. It had obviously just happened a split-second before I turned the corner because the rabbit was still in a feeble death struggle and there was actual a small cloud of dust lingering in the air. (gravel drive)
The hawk was just as surprised as me but obviously not wiling to give his meal up. He extended his wings and took flight toward the back of my house, slowly lifting higher and higher from the driveway, and he actually appeared to be straining, since he was a smallish hawk and the rabbit was of a good size. The hawk took a graceful turn around the back of my house and vanished from sight.
I sped my truck up, wanting to see where the bird was going. At the back of my house sits a giant cottonwood tree and there was the hawk, sitting on the one of the massive horizontal branches. He was just starting to dine and now that he was at the safety of his branch my presence didn't seem to bother him.
I sat down in one of my Adirondack chairs and quietly watched the little nature show. The hawk held the rabbit down with one its talons and would tear chunks from its body. Tufts of fur would tumble from the branch and begin their slow journey to the ground.
The meal lasted for about 20 minutes and by the time the hawk had had his fill and left the branch, there was a sizable pile of rabbit fur on the ground below.
I couldn't tell how much was left of the rabbit on the branch because of the angle. I did keep an eye on the branch over the next several days to see if that hawk ever returned to finish his lunch, but I never saw him again.
I would like to think, in a macabre sort of way, that there is now a bleached rabbit skeleton resting on that branch, but I'm sure strong winds and little hungry creatures of the night have long ago dispatched that particular pile of bones.
At the apartments in Tomball, I see bluejays and mockingbirds nesting in the nearby trees, but never see where the cadinals live. Other birds like to nest in the building's eaves. A few years ago, when mockingbirds kept buzzing and hitting people, I tore down their nests. The following year, bluejays nested in the same spots, then they dove at people just as the mockingbirds had done.
About two years ago, woodpeckers took up residence in a great willow growing at the mouth of the retention pond. They drilled holes all up and down one major limb. Heavy wind snapped the limb right at the location of the lowest hole. I expected to woodpeckers to move on, but they moved down the same tree and drilled new holes.
Often I see a hawk sitting in the Arizona ash growing on the bank, not far from the willow. And just up the street, when road kill is present, as many as two dozen buzzards congregate to devour it. I've seen them strip a deer carcass in little more than a day to day and a half. (Deer are small here).
I have passing pileated woodpeckers that spot rotting logs and zoom in like pteradactyls. The wood chips fly as these massive birds rip apart the logs and extract the insects within.
I would have to say the pileated woodpecker is a close second to the owl as my favorite bird.
I had a job once't (no . . . really, i did . . .) to which i walked through countryside bordering a national wildlife refuge. Owls on silent wings would glide over my head as they headed to their roosts at sun rise. I was usually alone with the wildlife when i walked to work.
One morning, coming up the ridge known as Pleasant Hill (on Pleasant Hill Road--well, duh ! ! !), i came over the rise just as a vixen appeared out of the underbrush on the south side of the road with a big, fat mallard drake in her mouth, more than half her body length. She froze, then dropped the duck and headed back in the direction she'd come. Smart girl, she was not about to lead me to her den and her kits. So i walked on, making a wide detour around the mallard, and then, when i'd begun to descend the eastern slope, turned so that the stretch of road i'd just crossed was at eye level, but a few hundred yards off. Sure enough, the vixen peered out of the underbrush, but i was far enough away that she didn't see me. She darted out in the road and snatched up that mallard, and headed into the underbrush on the north side of the road. They ate like kings that day, i'm sure. A fat mallard drake probably weighs almost half as much as a fox.
Most Novembers, we get an influx of Robins. They are fat as chickens, almost. Sometimes they only stay a day or two, often a month. This year, they didn't show at all. I always go around feeling disappointed when they don't show up. You only get so much time to enjoy them and I hate that.
Sumac bigger than maples?
I'm thinking of Staghorn Sumac:
http://www.cnr.vt.edu/dendro/dendrology/syllabus/factsheet.cfm?ID=83
Set & Gus, Fox and Bones-o Men--
http://community-2.webtv.net/dand31/TheFoxlyrics/
Edited to add:
Cardinals are not deep woods birds. They like fringe woodlands. When we moved here sixteen years ago there were no cardinals at the feeders. After about nine years of increasing human invasion, we had cardinals move in.
wow.
the only animals that seem to get killed here are when a pigeon accidentaly gets stepped on, or the string tied around their legs causes them to fall off the roof, or into a pond, or something.
kindof sad
I'm currently reading Crows: Encounters With the Wiseguys written by Candace Savage-- she's one of your people Setana, a Canadian. All true stories, with some folklore stories in there-- Very interesting. Smart birds, they are.
Seatana, everytime I see your doggie I can hear her panting her little doggie breath.
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