Bird Call

Can You ‘Call’ This Bird?

No. Not attract it. Identify it. Well don’t feel bad if you can’t. It’s not something you’ll see on your feeder. Ever.

But it’s a looker isn’t it? Gray. 2’ tall. Blond streak on its crown. Elegant plumes. Orange eyes. Big black beak. White cheek stripe. Yellow legs. See what I mean? No female could resist? Maybe. You see males and females look exactly alike. [Also called sexual-monomorphism. As everybody knows :) ]  But you would have to assume they can tell the difference.

Ready to make the call? If not I’ll tell you next time. : ) Can’t wait? Hover over the photo. (Or scroll to the bottom.)

Here are some more facts (free): they are extremely fond of crabs and other shellfish. They often feed nocturnally then sleep during the day (though not always). And they often nest in small groups. But again, not always.

Tough Night (roosting by day)

Sleeping Posture

 

Some migrate to South America in winter. Others, already in a warm climate, stay put (if there are enough crabs.) So when they come back north again to breed where do they go? Mostly to the southeastern U.S.  But also to the Midwest, the eastern seaboard, the Mississippi valley, a few northern states. And...

San Diego.  Apparently.

I took this photo at Ocean Beach.

Surprised? Me too a little. Well sort of.  They’re not rare here. But uncommon. I have seen a breeding pair before including a nest with young near the Mexican border. Still I didn’t expect to see this one during the day at a busy beach.

They’re usually retiring. And prefer to forage in murky sloughs and marshes, often in half light or even dark.

So what’s it doing all the way out here on the west coast during breeding season? At a crowded beach. In broad daylight. Two or Three thousand miles from its normal digs and friends.

Let me put it another way....

Here it is visiting San Diego in June? Hanging out at the beach all day soaking up sun. Spending evenings looking for the best in fresh Pacific seafood. Why would it want to do that?

Well, who wouldn’t? : )

 

Notice: I can’t figure out how to write upside down so don’t look if you are still trying to ID the thing:

 

Yellow-crowned Night Heron

Bird-nerd-words: Hamilton’s Rule

" 'The formula that describes when an individual [bird] should forgo its own reproduction and instead help its relative reproduce.'

Acorn Woodpecker

One formulation of this idea suggests helping should be favored when rB > C, where r is the genetic relatedness of the individual and its breeding relative, B is the additional number of offspring this helping behavior will add to the relative’s reproductive success, and C is the cost to the helper in the form of offspring that they can’t produce themselves if they invest instead in helping their relative." *

Got that? Me either. But I think what he's trying to say is this: if a bird can help produce more birds with genes similar to his by helping his family than he can produce by having his own family, he helps. If Hamilton's correct, however, the question remains. How does the bird tell in advance which will work out best? Yes, I know we keep finding birds are smarter than we think. But pardon me? No way they work out the math on this. : )

(See also Bird-nerd-words: Bird-Altruism : )

 

* Bird Academy

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                             

Pyrrhuloxia

This is a Pyrrhuloxia.

Pyrrhuloxia.  [peer-uh-lox-ee-a] 

Ridiculous name. But it has an excuse. It’s Greek. Stands for: “flame colored bird.” (Or something.)

It also goes by Desert Cardinal.

Or Texas Cardinal. (But Only in Texas please.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It looks a lot like a Northern Cardinal. Especially the female. But it’s not. Separate species.

Female Northern Cardinal

If you’ve never heard of it, you’re not alone. It’s a southwest specialty. Its range is through the southernmost parts of Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona.

And those parts seem to be very proud of it. Gift shops there are packed with artful images. Everything from 24x36 canvases to bathmats. And some aren’t cheap. Like $149 not cheap.

Now I hate to sound envious.

But I am.  

I’m wondering if I haven’t been doing this for the wrong reason. I thought it was supposed to be fun. I didn’t know the point was to get rich. Here I’ve just been giving my stuff away.

Selling Pyrrhuloxia art is probably how those dudes with the $10,000 lenses do it. Maybe I should try it. My pictures are as good as theirs. Well some of them. Maybe.

And Costco isn't particular. If you send them a good or not so good image, they'll still put it on a 24 x 36 canvas for just $28.89. (There’s a sale on now).

But I see a problem....I’d have to sell 714 them at $149 (plus shipping) to buy that snazzy lens.  A little distant goal than I thought.

Well. Rats!

It doesn’t look like I’ll be taking orders anytime soon does it?

If that's the case there's only one thing to do? Keep giving them away. Oh well. I don't mind. In fact I’m perfectly OK with it. I’m a generous person after all. Sharing's good. Right?

So. Here you go. Free photo. That’s right. Absolutely free. Download it. Print it. Do whatever you want to it.I don't care. It’s yours. Go ahead. Take it!

Just don’t say I never gave you anything. : )

Distinguishing Marks: mostly gray. Red belly, face, chest and topknot. Red on wings and tail. Yellow-orange beak. Partial to cactus and mesquite.

 

 

Bird-nerd-words: Bird-Altruism

[Warning: This post may contain graphic anthropomorphism.]

Do birds do good deeds? Silly idea?

Maybe not.

For whatever reason some birds do help others out. It’s pretty common. And it’s got biologists baffled.

Take Robins for example. A hawk might fly by and one will sound an alarm. That gives the others time to take cover. That of course may be dangerous to the individual but helps the flock survive. Seems altruistic on the surface.  And why that particular bird? He may be the closest? But that would just put him at greater risk. So biologists wonder, how has the behavior survived evolution.

Some biologists answer that it really is altruism. Plain and simple.

That drives some of the others crazy.

So much so they came up with this beauty: the actual intent is to panic the flock. Not save them. That way the bird that squawks first has time to hide under a bush while others run around with their feathers on fire. So to speak.

But all that does is swap our heroic robin for a nasty stool pigeon. Not to mention it doesn’t make sense. If they were trying to find a way to explain it all with evolution, well.... Evolution should favor the survivor (in this case the dweeb.) Correct? So why don’t we see whole flocks of nasty little whistle-blowing Robins going off?  

                      
Here’s another seeming altruistic behavior. Some species do what’s called communal brooding. (In English that means birds helping raise young that aren’t theirs.)

Acorn Woodpeckers do this. They live in large communities and all help out. But most don’t get to breed. Only a select few. The rest spend their time pounding acorns into little round holes.            
Acorn Woodpecker Acorn cache

                                                                                    Acorn Woodpecker

 

Bluebirds are communal-brooders too. A laying pair may have several helpers. Usually males from earlier broods (Earlier successful clutches)  [Bird-nerd-words of the day: Double Clutch] , and a few unattached males.

No one’s sure why. They think it could have to do with the fact that bluebirds are monogamous (though with birds that can be a relative term). The theory is, broods from one season are all siblings.

                  
Young Male Mountain Bluebird feeding fledgling

                                                    Male Mountain Bluebird

The more of their brothers and sisters survive the more likely the family genes are passed on. This might explain things in evolutionary terms. But the question remains. What do they get out of it? I’ll tell you what. Zilch. Nada. Nichts. In fact they could be sacrificing their chance to pass on their own genes later, in order to help the little clones pass on theirs. Altruism?  Looks Kind of like it doesn’t it?

Besides, while we're on the subject, I see a hole in the whole theory. For this strategy to work, the gene pool needs to be pure.

And did I mention there are usually some unattached males of breeding age flying around “helping.”

The youngsters are too young to understand all this of course. But if they could, I have to wonder....

Would they be happy giving up some of their best years to perpetuate the genes of the next brood of baby birds. Only to find out they’re the milkman’s kids? So to speak. : )

 

Boring Fact: Many mammals and some 100 species of birds are known to practice some form of “altruism.”

Beautiful Bluebird (Blog )

Try to say that fast three times. : )  It’s February. And….so what?  Well, that’s when the Western Bluebirds
return. That’s if they’ve been gone of course.

Some stay put. Even in cold climates. But especially in a place like southern California. So we get to see and hear them year round. And they get a nice jump on things. They are already getting ready to nest here. . A month earlier than many other places.

But many more migrate. Even to San Diego. In flocks so high so you may not see them. But you can hear them. They don’t sing…exactly. Instead they give a series of calls that’s a stand-in for song.  Still it’s pleasing. For several reasons. Not the least of which is the translation : “It’s spring, it’s spring, it’s spring.”

Harbingers of spring. You can count on. They’re even more reliable than snowbirds.

And they need to get busy. The survival rate is low. They may need several clutches in a single season just to keep up. Like many birds they’ve lost habitat. They are cavity nesters. And there simply aren’t as many forest trees as there used to be. So fewer woodpecker holes. So more competition for nesting-sites from imports like House Sparrows and European Starlings. (Stupid Starlings.)

So a low inventory of woodpecker holes combined with more competition makes it a sellers’ market. Squabbles are common. Birds get killed.

Western Bluebirds have a long list of enemies anyway: tree swallows, House Wrens, squirrels, mice, cats, raccoons, possums, snakes, woodpeckers, Scrub Jays, Cowbirds, Crows and Ravens, flickers, grackles, owls, Cooper's hawks, ants, bees, wasps and earwigs. Yes earwigs. And we think we have it tough.

But if you love Western Bluebirds, and who doesn’t (I don’t mean like those on the list), you’ll be happy to know they’re doing ok in spite of all that. Their secret?

People have put out thousands of bird houses. At least it gives them a fighting chance. They are specially designed to discourage competition and predation. Interested? Bluebirds are after all the number one pest remover in yards.

Anyway. So I was happy to hear a friend—well her husband actually--put one out this year. He took down their old nest. Bluebirds had been living on the back porch. Beautiful. Musical. Delightful. Messy. She’s concerned they won’t come back because they won’t want to move. After all it’s not like you can give first time homeowner incentives.

Or can you?

They can be coaxed with a favorite food--and nothing says lovin’ like live mealworms. To a  Bluebird anyhow.

Besides Bluebirds actually love bird houses. They make perfect nest sites. And females love them.

I say that because for one thing everyone knows wives choose the new house. Second female bluebirds build the nests. Exclusively. Now if you’ve ever observed Bluebirds building their nest you might say, “Wait a second….I’ve seen males carrying sticks back and forth.” Yes. Well it’s the “and forth” part that’s at issue. They’re posers. It’s all show.

A male will carry a stick to the nest. Enter. Poke his head out. Wave the stick around. Come back out. Show off his wings. Then fly away with the stick. Sometimes two. Now that’s just not being very helpful.*

                                                                                              Female Western Bluebird

I don’t mean to sound tooo critical. After all, truth be told, I’ve pulled that maneuver myself a few times. I’ve found if I can manage to make a bigger mess by helping than not? I get kicked out of the kitchen. Then I have to go watch the game.

So he goes and guards the perimeter while she finishes the work.

To his credit,though, he does help bring home the bacon. Or grasshoppers as it were. Both feed the young birds. Then the male takes over for a couple weeks after they are fledged and feeds them while the female goes and builds the next nest.

So see? They have it all arranged.

Distinguishing Marks: the head is all blue; back, breast and sides are red-brown; and on the belly the sport classic whitish; Females are a grayer version. But the best way to tell is if they are in the west. (Inane but reliable.)

 

Boring Fact: youthful birds or adult males often help raise baby birds from a family member's clutch.

 

 

* Really Fine Print: for the sake of transparency, I pushed the boundaries of known behavior. A little. I don’t mean I discovered anything. I inferred a few things. Male nesting displays are well documented for Eastern Bluebirds. Not so much for western. However, there are ornithological observations suggesting they too may display. So there. : )

 

 

Hoodoo What?

Last spring my brother and I went on a search for a Red-faced Warbler. They are actually a Mexican species. Very rare in this country. But southern Arizona borrows a few of them for the summer where they are fairly common at higher altitudes.

So we went to Tucson. Not much of a mountain town. It’s more a saguaro, golf course, spa kind of place. 

 

But on the northeast edge of town there’s a road that winds to the top of Mt. Lemmon. Not your average desert, rocky, cactus-covered outcropping. Instead at over 9000’ it has spruce/fir forests. Aspen. Ponderosas. Even a ski area. It’s a different world from the desert far below.

Most tourists go to Tucson for other things than a mountain experience. Some aren't even aware it's there. I get that. It's hard to notice even a 9000’ mountain with cucumber slices on your eyes.

But there it is. 

And at about 8000’ among pines and willows we found several of these beautiful little gems. Singing away.

 

 

We watched a female building her nest in a cavity under a bush. Meanwhile the male mostly made a nuisance of himself trying to court her and keep competition at bay at the same time. (I'm told it's rare they totally succeed at either.) 

 

 

ut our mission accomplished, we headed back down to town. On the way we passed some curious rock formations. Pillars with strange shapes. The sign said they were Hoodoos. Never heard of them. So I looked them up. The name comes from an African American tradition of magic dating back to slavery. It seems to be the practice of spells. Curses. That sort of thing. I think. I couldn’t find a direct link to these particular rock things. I did find two other things about it though. One, outsiders define it as bad luck or revenge.  And two, insiders aren’t fond of outsiders trying to define it.

 

Hmm. I decided I didn’t need to know all that much about it anyway.

Besides the connection seems very loose. Legend has it that a group of early Tucson settlers saw the formations in the mist and thought they were giant magical beings. 

Silly? Maybe. 

 

But a remarkable number of people today believe just that.

Not just in Tucson. People all over the world hold similar beliefs about such formations. They consider them living, sentient and sometimes wise rock beings.

All of which would explain why the world was so outraged recently when two scout leaders decapitated that 172 million year old dude in Utah.

Not knowing what to think myself, I decided to consult an expert. An interdimensional communicator she’s called who is able to understand these beings and to commune with them.  She explains Mt. Lemmon’s Hoodoos are every bit alive and were “Birthed” 350 million years ago. She points out that when you look at them carefully each has a nose, a mouth and at least one eye (which means he or she is a messenger.) And they have developed distinct personalities. Over eons rock beings evolve a consciousness that allows them to communicate.  Not only among themselves but with us. However, not just anyone can do that. Most people don’t have their sight adjusted to the correct rock frequency.

But if you are able to accomplish that, she says, and “need to learn patience and endurance, and how to weather the storms of your life, sitting with such ancient beings can be very helpful!”

I’m sure it can.

Who knew?

Rock Pigeon

Pest?  Nuisance? Dirty? Diseased? Rats with wings? Dumb?

A lot of people think so. In fact they’d like to get rid of them. Some have tried. Didn’t work. 

It is hard to argue with some of those things.

But pigeons do have a fan base. A big one. (And you thought Bert was the only one.) If you ask them they may concede some of those faults, but there’s one they’ll  get downright cranky about. So let me give you some advice. And no joke here. Never, ever tell one of them pigeons are dumb. Because between invectives they will be happy to set you straight.

And they may have a point. As birds go (in fact as animals go) scientists are finding they are pretty smart. They’re capable of distinguishing between cubism and impressionist paintings. (Although even I can do that.) They can also distinguish between several people in photos. They can judge good children’s art from bad. They have a good grasp of numbers, like arranging things in numerical order, usually seen only in higher primates. And—I know this is hard to believe but-- they’ve been found to make better stock picking decisions than humans. Not making it up. And I don’t mean random pecking. Pigeon Stock Picks

They’re able to remember hundreds of images for several years. They can recognize all the letters in the alphabet and, scientists believe, they conceptualize. The list goes on and on. Anyway. You get the point. 

And that doesn’t count their amazing homing instinct. Sometimes they find their way back by following roads. Exactly. Turn-by-turn. Heck. Even Siri can’t always do that. 

Maybe I’m getting carried away. But remember. This is not me talking. This is science. I realize that homing does not technically fit our definition of intelligence. But then what is intelligence? When it comes to animals our traditional definitions are coming under heavy fire. Edwin Boring, a big shot Harvard Psychologist says basically, “Intelligence is what is measured by intelligence tests.”

So here’s an experiment: take a human, put him in a box, close his sense of smell, hearing, and electromagnetism (if he has one). Spin him around three times. Put him in an airplane and take him halfway around the world to Madagascar or someplace. Dump him out and say, “See ya.”

Aren't you glad that wasn’t on the SAT?  : )

And finally. pigeons are one of the few animals (most others are primates) that can pass the mirror test. You know. When they recognize themselves in a mirror and are aware it’s them. Scientists equate that with intelligence and self-awareness. However it took them a long time to discover pigeons could do this. They just didn’t have a good way to test them.

I don’t know how they ended up doing it, but they always could have asked me. Of course.

They should have used courting pairs.Then when they put them in front of the mirror it would have been obvious. Males would have flexed their wings in profile, while females checked their tail feathers. :)

Canaries: a Cautionary Tale

Four or five hundred years ago Spanish sailors hauled home some grayish/ greenish/ yellowish birds resembling house finches from the Canary Islands. Then, apparently not knowing what else to do with them, gave them to some monks. Who, apparently having too much time on their hands, bred them to their now familiar bright yellow color.

Perhaps they thought if they put a pretty bird with a beautiful song in a cage it could become a serious cash crop. It did.

They are still popular cage birds. All over the world.  And there are still plenty of wild grayish/greenish/yellow ones in the Canary Islands (plus a few other places). But they don’t live wild in North America. Of any color. So if you should happen to see one flying around here, you can assume Sylvester left Tweety’s cage door open.

In 1920, apparently appreciating their value, an inmate at Leavenworth Prison named Robert Stroud began to buy, raise, and sell them. Later known as the notorious Bird Man of Alcatraz, Stroud raised nearly 300 of them in his cell.  Yes. In his cell. As an amateur ornithologist he also studied and wrote extensively about them. In 1943 he published a treatise that was widely accepted as an important contribution to the field of ornithology. This caused ornithologists to see him as one of their own. They felt an affinity for him despite his crimes. Some 50,000 birders signed a petition to Herbert Hoover on his behalf. Plus many clamored for his release.

But truth be told he was not a nice man. A diagnosed psychopath, he had killed a bartender over a small amount of money by knocking him out in a fight then shooting him in the head.  Point blank. He continued to be violent in prison, intimidating and threatening fellow prisoners.  He assaulted and knifed several. Then in 1916 he killed a prison guard by stabbing him in the heart. He was moved to Alcatraz and kept in solitary the rest of his life.

Ok so he liked birds. Don’t we all.  But it’s hard to imagine that letting him go sounded like a good idea to anyone.

But that’s beside the point.

What is it then?

It seems obvious to me... Don’t mess with ornithologists! 

Snowy Owl

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Snowy Owl breeds in the Arctic Circle during summer. Some even spend winter there. But the smart ones move south to milder climates. Like North Dakota. Or Michigan. :)

They prefer tundra. So in the winter they look for open fields or shorelines where they hunt for birds and rodents.  They like to find a high spot on the ground.Or maybe on a perch. Several of us (this bird had attracted a crowd) found it atop a giganto warning siren. Doing exactly nothing. Just sitting (which they do a lot of) looking around.

During summer as they raise their families in the Arctic lemmings are the top menu item. Lemmings are a kind of vole that lives in the far north. They look kind of like gerbils but smaller.

Since the permafrost is hard to dig in they prefer snowy areas where their tunnels can run between the ground and the bottom of the snowpack. There they can eat the plants and roots at the surface of the tundra. It also helps keep them warm (they live year round in the Arctic) and protects them from predators. Sometimes. There are plenty of animals lined up to get their share. Besides Snowy Owls are foxes, weasels, hawks, wolves, sea birds, even bears.

Snowy Owls are so dependent on them for food during this time that when lemming populations are high, owls produce big broods. When low, few owls if any are produced.

And this can be a problem for them since lemmings are subject to extreme population swings. Every few years they have a population explosion. That part’s not hard to understand. They are prolific. Figures are all over the place but I found estimates all the way up to 192 offspring a year. Not only that, newborn females can breed after only 30 days.

But then their numbers dwindle a bit mysteriously for a few years. To near extinction. Then there’s another boom. There are lots of theories about why this happens: increased predation, overgrazing,  weather, disease.  No one knows for sure.

Except the general public. A lot of them are pretty sure that when lemmings become overpopulated they commit mass suicide by running off cliffs. Into the ocean. It makes a good metaphor. Except scientists say it’s not true. They think the idea comes from the fact that hungry hordes of lemmings sometimes travel en masse through rivers and down steep mountains. Some die. Sometimes many. But scientists say you can’t blame them for preferring  to brave the risks of migration over certain starvation. Maybe not.

Still the idea persists. Apparently scientific explanations don’t hold up well against cartoons and video games.

Me? I’m not taking sides on this one.

I will say this, however. If I had 192 kids plus several hundred more grandkids a year? I might run off a cliff too. :)

 

Distinguishing Marks:  Males are all white. Hard to miss. Except in the snow.

(You can see Females and young males. They have stripes. You just can't always tell them apart.)

Boring Fact:  One more thing about lemmings. They are famous for getting agitated and aggressive when predators approach. They've even been rumored to attack wolves. But one predator is especially destructive. It's the Stoat (like a weasel). It enters their tunnels, and uses stealth to kill all it can. But eats only the parts it likes. Bodies end up scattered all over the snow. Locals who have seen the aftermath though aren't convinced. There is an easier explanation they say: sometimes lemmings get so darned mad they explode. Not joking. I couldn't make this stuff up. 

Related articles

Snowy owls wintering in US fitted with tiny tracking devices

Great Cormorant

I Just returned from New England. It was cold there. Very cold.

Snow. Freezing rain. Sleet.  Surfers.  

    

And Great Cormorants.

     


They are water birds. But like other cormorants they don’t spend all that much time in the water.

Because they sink.  More or less. The reason for that is their feathers are not completely waterproof. So they take on water to weigh them down a little. But they’re OK with that. They don’t really want to bob up like a duck. Sometimes they even eat a few pebbles for ballast. That way they can stay underwater longer catching fish.  And they're very good at it.

You might recognize them as the famous diving birds you’ve seen used by the Chinese. They put a ring around their necks so they can’t swallow and train them to retrieve fish.

There is a problem though with them taking on water. It’s not so easy for them to swim on the surface. So they hold swimming to a minimum. Instead they prefer to spend most of their time drying out on rocks while sitting on their ankle-like tarsal bones.

I can't say I blame them. If I was a surfer in New Hampshire? In winter?  I think I would do the same.

Except of course it wouldn’t be my tarsals I was sitting on.

 

 Distiinguishing marks: Black. Large. White Goatee.

 

 

Boring Fact: just to be clear: Great Cormorants aren't all that
great. Just taller (39”). :)

Boring Fact 2: Cormorants(including the double-crested below)are often seen standing with wings spread wide after swimming . Conventional thought says it’s because their feathers take on water. So they need to dry. But recently some scientists have suggested it’s actually to aid digestion. Still others have decided it’s to regulate heat. Or maybe to cast a shadow on the water so they can see better. Or for better balance. Finally after a great deal of slightly sardonic debate they’ve decided.

They’re really not sure. :) 

                                                                                           

 

                                                                                                                       

Related articles

Christmas brings Northeast blizzard, bitter cold in Midwest

Cormorant fishing Guilin - Explore the Li river with a cormorant fisherman - Living + Nomads - Travel tips, Guides, News & Information!

American Tree Sparrow

10 Spooky Bird Omens

Tripping through the store today to buy some candy I noticed just how much Halloween stuff there was. Things have changed since I was a kid. But of course I want to get in step with what has apparently become an important national holiday. And excuse to get drunk. Really drunk. But I don’t do drunk for Halloween.

Instead I'll be kick off this year's on-line celebration with Bird-Call’s top 10 .

 

1) Crows, Ravens and Blackbirds:

Omens of evil. But they also are messengers who bring good news. Go figure.

(Follow link for more on raven omens.)

2) Hawks: 

A hawk in a dream means a message of good fortune is coming. Perhaps from a crow.

3) Owls: 

Very bad omen. Especially if it flies around your house three times. In that case someone dies. It’s that simple. You’re cooked.

4) Vultures:  

Also a bad omen. They warn of death.  But too late.

5) A bird in the house: 

Depends. But it can be a bad omen. At the very least it means washing the couch cover.

6) When a bird flies in the window: 

You may encounter an obstacle in your life soon. Double that if the window was closed.

7) Find a feather from a black bird:

This can mean many things. Warning. Death. Wisdom. But usually it’s just molting.

 8) Find a dead bird: 

Like the death card in Tarot. Or West Nile Virus.

9) Barn Swallow:

If a swallow builds its mud nest in your eaves it forecasts good fortune. And later a good power wash.

10) A bird flying down the chimney:

Someone will die. Usually the bird. 

 

 :)

 

Angry Birds

I haven’t had much luck with birds lately. I've tried. It's discouraging. But I think I've discovered the problem.

They don't like me.

I can't really say I blame them. Spooking around all hours like the Paparazzi.

They’re mad! Mad at me. Sound silly? Look!

   
  

 

 

 

 

I think I'd better try to be nicer.

 

Because frankly?

I don’t like the way they look at me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I realize this all sounds absurd. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But what else would you call it?

   :) 

 

Bird-nerd-words: Eclipse Plumage

Eclipse plumage is the boring look worn by birds in the off season.

As you probably know, birds molt their feathers. Most do it a few at a time. It keeps them in good flying order.

Not ducks. Take Wood Ducks for example. Here is one in his splendid display for breeding season.

 Breeding Plumage

But. About the time the rest of us are out Memorial Day mattress shopping he starts looking for a hideout.  He’s about to lose all his flight feathers. At the same time. That fancy breeding plumage will be replaced by something more conservative. Camouflage.  But it takes 20, 30 days or even longer for the Eclipse Plumage to grow in.

Eclipse Plumage

In the meantime not having feathers on his wings pretty much puts the kibosh on flying.  

So he darned well better find a good dressing room. Where he can stay out of sight. While he’s changing. A reedy lake perhaps.

There he can find food. He can be safe from predators.  And no one can see him.

After all. This has to be embarrassing.

Pygmy Owl (in the Dark)

Hey! Total eclipse in the U.S. tomorrow. People are driving to watch from all over the country. The whole continent even. The last one was in 1991. So this one’s a pretty big deal. First time ever that 20 million cell phones witness a total eclipse.

Be careful if you go. Some say they have a profound effect on people. I can see that.  This one may cause the biggest traffic jam ever.

And if you are planning to watch be sure to use those special glasses. I’m sure you have a pair and are all ready. But if they were out of them at Walmart don’t worry. They say you can still look at it. But only during the couple odd minutes the moon completely covers the sun. And never, never look at even a sliver of sun. I see a problem with that. How do you know when not to look? Without looking?

Oh, and be careful. I read there are knockoffs out there that are nowhere near dark enough.  Your retinas could be toast. If they’re good glasses you shouldn’t be able to see anything besides the sun. (Be careful walking around in them while testing yours.)

So what if they don’t meet the test? NASA says there is still a way.

Wear a welder’s helmet. No kidding. If you have one. But even then it needs a special lens. Extremely dark. Class 12 or something. For special kinds of welding. Very uncommon. So NASA says be sure to check the class. Because you probably don’t have one.

So now. Finally. How will birds act?

Take this tiny Northern Pygmy Owl. Here are a few facts. He is only 6” long, give or take an inch.  Spread your forefinger and little finger wide open. Like Texas Longhorn fans. (Texas A & M alumni use your imagination.) The distance from pointer to pinkie is about how big this owl is. Top of head to end of tail. But he’s all heart. He can take prey as big as pigeons. Even chickens.

And he’s diurnal (see Bird-nerd-word.) That’s birder for “flies-around-in-daylight.” So. Will two and a half minutes of darkness during the day make any difference to him?

Who knows? Certainly not me. And I’m not alone. No one Knows.

But scientists are intent on finding out.  So they made an app.  iNaturalist. They want people to report what birds are doing before, during and after the eclipse. Good idea. I hope you’ll take part.

But there is one thing that’s not clear to me. How are you supposed to watch what birds are doing? 

You’ll be in the dark.

Wearing a welder’s helmet.

Related articles

6 apps for solar eclipse

Bird-nerd word: Catbird Seat

This is a catbird. A Gray Catbird to be precise.

And this is a catbird seat.

So there you have it. (Just kidding.)

“Sitting in the catbird seat" means—as you may know-- having the upper hand.  Sitting pretty. Got it made.

It probably originated in the south. Some say it stems from how a Gray Catbird will sit in the top of a tree to sing. Except they don’t much. They prefer to skulk around in low shrubs. And they usually do their singing from there. So I guess that leaves room for interpretation on how they might have the upper hand.

Who exactly came up with this one I can’t say. But I can say who made it famous. Well maybe I can.

By most accounts a baseball announcer named Red Barber picked it up in a poker game in the south and started using it in his broadcasts for the Dodgers. About the same time it showed up in the James Thurber story: The Catbird Seat.  Barber said that’s where he first saw it. You’d think he’d know. Trouble is the story names him. And says he used it during Dodger broadcasts. When questioned he stuck to his guns.

Confusing. Both stories can’t be true. So hmm.

Pretty obvious to me.  Old Red didn’t want his wife to know he was in that poker game.

The name Catbird comes from the fact that the little mimic likes to make sounds like a cat. Pretty good ones.

I got these photos in New England last month.

Catbirds are very common in the east but not in San Diego or anywhere in the west, so I was excited to hear the famous “mew.”  

I made this recording. I admit it isn’t great, but I wanted you to at least hear how they sound.

Gray Catbird

:) OK. Maybe not. 

Then try this: Real Gray Catbird sounds

Related articles

American Tree Sparrow

A Remarkable Bird is the...

Running for their lives

Bird-nerd-words of the day: Binaural phase comparison :)

Road Trip Through Time

I recently got to do one of my favorite things. Bird with my brother in Arizona. And a second favorite: get away in the back country. So he saddled up his 4x4 and off we scrambled onto some really bad roads on the San Francisco Peaks.

Just him.  Me.   And a few thousand fire fighters.

Five fires were burning in the region.  Smoke darkened the sky like thunderclouds.  Whole mountain tops were burning in the distance. Not ideal. But still fun.

The next day the plan had been to go down to the Verde Valley. Amazing birding there. But hot.  It was something like 110 or 112 degrees. (Even so it’s where Phoenix people visit to keep cool.)

So now what?

Vermilion Cliffs

No problem. I still believe my big brother can do anything, so I wasn’t surprised when he announced instead of up or down, we’d go somewhere else. The Pleistocene era. Sort of.

Next morning found us crossing the Navajo reservation. That in itself was a glimpse of the past. Take away the pickups and Nissan Sentras, and it’s not all that hard to imagine it six or seven hundred years ago.

We continued north toward the Grand Canyon, me hanging out the window like a puppy, while more centuries peeled away. Eroded cliffs exposed thousands of years of geology. Beautiful. Amazing.

We crossed the Colorado at Navajo Bridge, 470’ above the Colorado River and stopped at the north end. The original bridge was built in 1929. In 1995 they built a new one. For Condors to roost on. (They didn’t know that yet.) And they left the old one as a spare. Now people walk out on it to observe the condors. And that is exactly where we went.

What we found was a TV antenna walking up and down the bridge. With a biologist attached. We stopped to talk. She was trying to find a female that had flown out of range. Part of a pair raising a chick on the nearby cliffs.  She had left dad to babysit while she went for some groceries. And was late getting back. Condors were thick here just 40,000 years ago. They haven’t changed much. But now there are only a couple hundred-plus pairs in the wild. So biologists keep good track of them.

 

They are monogamous and work together to raise their chick. They only have one egg and fledging takes a long time. Sometimes it’s a year before dad gives them the car keys. While we were there the chick stayed well back in a little cave out of view. So we didn’t see it. But the biologist showed us a picture she had taken of the downy little guy. Now you might think that with parents as homely as these the chick would be downright ugly. But in fact condor chicks are kind of cute.

Like cuddly little Easter chicks.

Except gray. And 12 pounds. And bald.  :)

 

 

Bird-nerd-word: Conspecific

Conspecific simply means ‘belonging to the same species.’ Like two Robbins. Simple. Right? Just sorting birds into groups. E.a.s.y. Right? Well…..

No.

But the problem may not be what you think. We’ve got biologists, geneticists, paleontologists, taxonomists (and whatever). With all the tools of modern science. We know a lot about birds. Sorting them should be a breeze. And would be. If we only knew what a species was. Experts can’t define it.

You think I’m kidding? It’s not settled. People who get paid to think about stuff like this can’t agree. So they argue. And argue.

Some modern philosophers spend whole careers pondering it. (Yes, there is a philosophy of species.) Aristotle took the first crack a couple thousand years ago. He called it ‘species.’ (But he was Greek. So it came out like: εἶδος.)  And so εἶδος as it turns out is the origin of ‘species.’

And that was good enough for everyone for 2000 years, with just a couple tweaks every 500 years or so.

Then came Darwin. And things got ugly.

People thought they knew what a species was. But Darwin tossed the whole thing up in the air. When it came down it splintered into pieces. You see it’s not so much that we don’t have a definition. We have too many. More than a couple dozen. And none of them agree.

Charles had created one big headache. It’s called “The Species Problem.”

Scientists are still duking it out. Disagreements. Vehement disagreements. Angry, name-calling, digs and Gibes disagreements. These are scientists remember.

But the question remains: what makes a species, well…a species?

Appearance? Genetics? Ancestry? The list is long.  Some say it doesn’t even matter. The whole thing is a product of the way our brain works, not nature.

The best known (and Birder’s favorite) is the so called “Biological” concept. It’s simple. Clear cut: ‘Birds don’t interbreed.’ Simple as that. They don’t reproduce outside their own species. Ever.  It’s what we’ve been taught. That way we always know who is breeding with whom. Trouble is: sometimes little whom turns out to be a little what.

For example: a male Mallard,

Mates with a different species: American Black Duck

And they get Junior here: a Mallard/Black Duck Hybrid (probably)

Fact is, species do interbreed. We don’t know how many. ( Partly because we can’t keep an eye on all of them all the time.) Maybe 10%. Maybe more. Kind of pokes a hole in the Biological-concept balloon doesn’t it?

Which illustrates “The Species Problem” in a nutshell. More than two dozen concepts. Something wrong with all of them.

So here we are 2000 years (and 160 years of arguing and carrying on) later. And we still haven’t come up with anything better than Aristotle’s first swing at it. And thinking about it. He may just have got it right in the first place:

What he said was this: 'Species' is…“That which makes it what it is.”

Good enough for me.

Distinguishing marks: Odd.

Related articles

Running for their lives

A Remarkable Bird is the...

American Tree Sparrow

Ruddy (Re-)Dux

You may be wondering, “How did we get back on Ruddy Ducks?”  Or not.  Either way there are a couple of things about them I think you should know.

 

Boring fact No. 1

Female ruddy ducks can sometimes be “brood parasites.”  That’s the equivalent of leaving their baby on a doorstep… “See-ya.”  More precisely they lay their eggs in another bird’s nest. Without being invited.  And very big eggs at that. A saving grace is the youngsters take off a few days after they hatch so at least the host-bird doesn’t have to send them to college.

 

Boring fact No. 2

You may have noticed the ruddy feathers, blue beak, and white spot on this breeding Ruddy Duck. They’ve been called ridiculous. Comical. Worse. They don’t care. The colors are there for a reason. You see Ruddy Ducks could be called rude ducks. They’re belligerent. To other Ruddies. Other birds. Even mammals. They go out of their way to find trouble. Especially in breeding season.  The colors say, “Yeah. I’m bad.”  But females go wild over them. They don’t see him as a threat.  ‘Sure he’s a little on the wild side. He can even play a little rough sometimes. But when the chips are down he’s my guy.’ And he is. He will defend her and her nest (unless she dumped the eggs somewhere else) viciously.

The colors make her feel safe. The way some girls do with a big muscly guy. With tattoos.

And a pit bull.

Related articles

Angry Birds v7.4.0 APK (MOD, Money/Boosters) Android Free | DownloadFreeAZ

ID This Duck - Bird Call

ID This Duck

This is a duck. Obviously. If you don't happen to know the species and want to, Here are four "birder" things you could try. Maybe five. If you don't really care that much.

1)  Take a wild guess.

2)  Look it up in a field guide. (Recommended).

3)  Hover over the photo with your mouse.

4)  Simply scroll down to the bottom of the page.

5)  Or of course simply skip the whole ID thing and look at the pictures.

Here's a list of hints. Free.

1)  It’s a diving duck (as opposed to a dabbling duck which eats off the bottom by tipping its bottom skyward.)

2)  It’s usually very quiet.

3)  It’s common. 

4)  The male duck’s bill turns blue in breeding season. 

They don’t just dive to eat. They do it also to evade predators. And photographers. It’s a simple trick. They dive, then come up. A long way off. Not where you expect.

But this time I was not where he expected. And as he came around the bend I snapped. Then he ducked. 

After that I didn't see him come up. At all. I kept looking. And after a while I spotted him. A very long way off. But the tide had changed and was carrying him toward me. So I got behind a bush. Sat in the mud. And waited…and waited. I peeked through the bush once. Still coming. But taking his sweet time about it.

I thought maybe he knew I was there. So. I covered my camera and lay on my belly. In the mud. Now I find it very hard to photograph that way because I can't see well. Especially with a bush in front of me. But I can see motion, and he was about to drift into view. Finally.

Well framed photo. Don't you think? :)

 This is not a duck.

 

The real duck is named Ruddy Duck.

 

 

Related articles

Ducks images HD Wallpapers | Beautiful images HD Pictures & Desktop Wallpapers

Bird-nerd-word: Cathemeral

Burrowing Owls are Cathemeral. That means the cute little guys might hunt any time it takes their fancy. Day or night.

Click to enlarge.

Other words for this are metaturnal. Or insomniacical. : )

Boring fact: Burrowing owls can fly or hover when they hunt. But they mostly like to run after things like little snakes and toads. And grasshoppers. Making them the original foodies.

Poquitos' Chapulines:

Toasted grasshoppers now served with lime salt at the Seattle Mariners baseball park.

Distinguishing Marks (of burrowing owls, not grasshoppers): flat heads. Big yellow eyes. Gandalf eyebrows. Brown.

 

 

Related bird-nerd-words: nocturnal, diurnal, and crepuscular.

Wallflowers

All I’d been hearing for two or three weeks was how beautiful the desert wildflowers were in Borrego State Park. Best in a decade. So on a whim I persuaded my wife to take a day trip. Maybe a little birding along the way.  Then grab lunch in Borrego. And go see the flowers. Sounded fun enough. Fortunately my wife is a good sport.

"Along the way" ended up taking us pretty far "out of the way." It wasn’t my fault exactly. I was looking for a certain bird. We couldn’t find it. So I kept driving. Looking.  Farther and farther away from Borrego.  A couple hours later we were clear over at the Salton Sea. Still no luck.

But if there’s one thing about me. I know when to quit. OK I don’t. But good sport or not, my wife does. And I could tell she was getting tired. So. Time to give up.

Then we saw it. Two its. Standing right by the road. Like wallflowers.

I was excited. My wife was excited. The birds seemed pretty cool about the whole thing.

  

These owls live in holes in the ground. They burrow them. Or borrow them. Then stand guard at the entrance. Like Meerkats. With feathers.

Turned a bad morning into a great one. Could have had a great afternoon too. If I’d done my homework. Or asked where to go. Instead I led us into the little town of Borrego like Custer into the Little Bighorn. And we got ambushed. By traffic. I’m not sure what I was thinking.

It was Sunday. They had been talking about flowers for three weeks on the news. The town is just bigger than a football field. And there were…. I don’t know how many cars. Lots. None moving.  But more trying to get in. And I don’t know why I thought there’d be any flowers in town anyway.

I couldn’t get us out of there fast enough. In fact I couldn’t get us out of there at all. At least for a while.

By the time I did we were too tired for sightseeing. We headed home.

Didn’t end up seeing that many flowers.

But we sure saw a lot of blooming people.

 

Into-thin-air-bird

I don’t have a good photo of a Costa’s Hummingbird. Not that I haven’t tried.

And tried. Just no luck. They are not rare out here on the west coast. Common really. With a deep-purple gorget.

So when sightings were reported at a nearby lagoon, I saw my chance.  

I went. And went. Not any luck.

Then a couple days ago something turned up. A hummer with a flash of purple.  I worked around so the gorget lit up and took some pictures.

But something didn’t look quite right. I’d say, “It looks like an Anna’s. But Anna’s have a red gorget.” 

So I’d stop shooting and take a look at it again.  “This one is definitely purple.” I’d start shooting again. “But not deep purple.” I'd stop and look some more.

I came home with several hundred photos. I set out to see what I had. It was beautiful. But what was it? 

Then it hit me. Duh. I wondered if Anna’s and Costa’s ever hybridize. I looked it up. They do.

So. In summary: I spent all that time shooting, sorting, identifying, and researching. Only to find out the stupid bird wasn’t really a Costa’s at all. Or even an Anna’s. I can't even count it on my life list. It was a nothing bird. A big-fat-waste-of-time-bird.

 

Bastard. : )

 

 

 

Boring Fact: Turns out Anna's don't just sleep around with female Anna's (see Hot-pink-paternity-suit). Most often it's with Costa's but they've been known to hybridize with Allen's and Black-chinned Hummingbirds too.

Purple or House Finch?

Purple Finch? House Finch?  How do you tell males apart?

 

Hover over photos to I.D. or click links at bottom

Here’s what experts suggest.

 Voice: Sibley, master of mnemonics says the Purple Finch song is: “plidi tididi preete plidi tititi preeer.”  And the House Finch? The same. But if you listen carefully the odd “tedeyo or widee-ooli “thrown in once in awhile will give him away. Yes. It is hopeless.

Beak:  The House Finch bill is stubbier and shorter than the Purple. It’s a good field mark. But since you can’t measure it that’s probably out too.

Color:  House finches are mostly brown with wide streaks on their breast and flanks. Their face, breast and forehead are red.  Or orange. Or yellow.  Purple Finches have little or no striping. (And little or no purple for that matter.) They’re largely pink. (Who names these things?)  This is your best bet to ID these two for now.

So now that you know, here’s a quiz. What are these?

Click to enlarge

Fence Finches.

It was a trick question.

(Fence Finches are really just House Finches. But without houses.)  : )

House Finch

Purple Finch

Green-winged Teal in love

I missed Valentine's Day.

But it’s still February.

Close enough.

I want to share how this Green-winged Teal won his girl.

He kicked it off by swimming around her in the gang with other males. Each trying to get noticed. By showoff moves. And loud whistling.movements.  And loud whistling.

Sure. That should do it.

Or not.

Undiscouraged our duck boldly came forward, raised his head straight up, vibrated all over…

and burped.  A loud liquid burp. (No kidding.)Then just because he was feeling it he burped some more.

Real smooth our guy.

Anyway, feeling confident he reared up in the water at that point, arched his neck and gave his irresistible "grunt-whistle." Then shook his bill throwing a stream of water at the female. (Remember Junior high?  When squirting pool water on you beloved was a sign of affection?)

Then in rapid fire came his best moves. A "head-flick" and simultaneous "tail-wag." A "head-up-tail-up" maneuver (HUTU) and a crisply executed "turn toward female." (TTF) Followed by a “bill up,” then a “down-up” dip. 

(Sounds more like yoga than courting.) But stay with me here.

All that motion had gotten her attention. And the two of them started swimming around nodding at each other.  

But just when it looked like things were going swimmingly? He gave her the back of his head and swam away.  

Oh-no-he-didn’t.  

Oh yes. He did.

He played hard to get.  

But she took the bait and followed. He turned and gave her a bill dip. Apparently a meaningful gesture because they paired up and shared a well-deserved (and ritualized) drink.

And there we’ll leave them.

To live happily ever after (or at least for this breeding season.)

Quite a courtship ritual wouldn't you say?

For me? I’m sticking with roses, dinner and a movie. :)

 

Terms and observations from The Wilson Bulletin by F. McKenny

 

 

 

The Wicked Drought Is Dead

It’s been raining. A lot. It’s raining now. Hard.  It’s not the Northwest.  It’s not the Midwest.  It’s San Diego. Of all places.

Rain is news here. We’ve had a long drought.

Ponds and puddles dried up. Small lakes dried up. Heck. Big lakes dried up.

So the county asked us all to cut back on water. Ok. But we don’t have a lawn.  Or landscaping.  We have water saving toilets. We turn the water off to brush our teeth. I wasn’t sure what else we could do, but it seemed sacrifice was in order.  So I quit washing the car. :  )

But the drought made real problems for birds. When there’s no water there’s no food. When that happens an adult bird will get by or can just leave. But their chicks can’t.  So many species simply won’t nest.

Some like this duck simply don’t come in the first place. They don’t breed here. But they do winter here. And they prefer small bodies of fresh water. Ponds. Puddles. Flooded fields. There haven’t been any of those for years. So there haven’t been many of these:

But now storm after storm has caused the county to officially declare the drought over. (Must have been all
the ducks were waiting for.)

Ponds are full. They’re back. And they’re happy.

The water district is happy. Homeowners are happy.  Everyone is happy.

But especially the guy down the street.

No more having to sneak out at midnight in his pajamas to hose down the driveway.

 

Distinguishing Marks: Fluorescent green patches on the wings (though they don't always show it.) Males and females. Males have green stripes on the sides of their heads. Also a very cool white bar on their shoulder. And in the right light there’s a bonus. Gold. A bright gold triangle on their tail end.

Boring Fact: There is a Eurasian version that shows up once in awhile. It used to be a separate species. Then it was the same species. Now maybe it's separate after all. I’ll keep you posted.

P.S. The white stripe is on the Eurasian’s back instead of the shoulder. If you see one, please let me know. : )

E_Z I.D. Friday

You should know this bird.

No. I mean you should know this bird.

I don't mean to scare anyone. But not recognizing it could lead to trouble. Especially if you see just one.

Things happen. Mostly bad.

Lucky for us. Gypsies have spells to ward off that sort of thing. Lucky for you.  I know them.

So here’s what you do:

First say, “Good morning” (showing great respect.) “And where is your wife this morning sir?”  Then look away (very important.) Take off your hat, bow and wish him good day. Then before you leave blow a kiss. After you’re out of sight, turn around three times and spit over your left shoulder.

That usually does it.

Did I go through all that? C'mon. What do you think?

Heck Yeah! I had photos to take.

 

 

Click photos to enlarge.

 

 

(Just so you’ll stay out of trouble. It’s called a Black-billed Magpie.)

Bird-nerd-word: Magpie

This is a Yellow-billed Magpie. 

Where did that name come from?

Pied means black and white in English. It came from a French word “Pied” or…black and white. (Over time it has come to mean patches of other colors too.)

Now that’s settled.

Mag’s beginnings are fuzzier. Some say it may be short for Margote. Which in turn is short for Margaret.  And apparently one of them was a chatterer.

Others site Shakespeare. He used it in Macbeth as “maggot-pie.”

    By maggot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth   

   The secret’st man of blood.

       

I think I have to go with the Bard on this one.

In any case the word is now “magpie:” Thankfully.

It’s not a beautiful name. But you have to admit.

It rolls off the tongue easier than “Yellow-billed-Maggot-parti-colored-chatterer.”

Sweetie-pie

My wife and I took a leisurely road trip recently through the central valleys of California. It was great.  We were on our way to Oregon and in a bit of a hurry. But we had something important to do.

Birding of course. I was looking for a species considered “much prized” by birders.

And me.

Beautiful?  Exotic? Rare? No. Not really.

It was this.

[Maybe a little beautiful]

I’ve been trying to see one of these for years. At least a dozen trips up Interstate 5 and the 101 were spent craning my neck. Always on the lookout. For this bird.

This trip I decided I’d had about enough of that. So I designed an itinerary to find one.  We spent several days driving the back roads in the central valleys of California. Right through the heart of their territory. It was beautiful in a California sort of way. Vineyards.  Golden grass.

We spent several nights in small towns close to where the birds had been sighted. Like the little La Quinta in Paso Robles. They offered a very nice cheese and wine tasting at 5:00. But we weren’t there for that.

Early next morning we started toward King City then headed east on Lonoak road. Good name. No traffic. No houses. Only a couple of farms. The rest was wide open ranchland. Grassy valleys. Oaks on the hillsides.

 Perfect habitat.

After an hour or two we spotted some way up a hillside. Too far for good photos. But not too far to tell what they were.

But they took off and swooped down the hill and away from us. I thought we’d lost them. But my wife saw where they went. (Thanks Hon.)

So in summary: we spent five days. Hundreds of miles. And several hundred on hotels. All for several hundred photos and a blog post.

Crazy? Of course it was. But that’s beside the point. It made our trip.

So what makes this bird so special?

Well…it has a yellow bill and lives in the central valleys of California. Nowhere else. In the world! There are similar kinds all over the world.  But not with yellow bills that live only in California.

Before you say anything. This stuff matters to us birders.

So what bird is it? [If you don’t want to guess hover over the photos or check the bottom of the page.]

Wikipedia says it “is a large bird in the crow family that is restricted to the U.S. state of California. Common nicknames include "yellow-billed cutie-pie", "yellow-billed sweetie-pie", and "yellow-billed tasty-pie".

Really?

Cutie-pie? Tasty-pie?  Hold on here. We are talking about “a large bird in the crow family” aren’t we? That eats carrion and refuse?

Now I always try to find original sources for the info I put in my blog. I couldn’t find any for this. Doesn’t mean they don’t exist. But it sounds ridiculous. So I have to wonder.

It didn’t seem to bother anyone else though. I found it copied—exactly--on nearly every other site I visited about this bird.

Now I don’t know how Wikipedia feels about that.

But it does give me an idea. Next time I have a couple of cool facts about a bird? I think I’ll sneak in one that’s ridiculous. Then give it a few days.

That way next time I’m on line I can see how many bloggers are reading my stuff. : )

Boring fact: It’s well documented that this species displays funeral like behavior when one of them dies. They hop and walk around the dead bird squawking.  Then after 10 or 15 minutes they become silent. Some of them preen the dead bird and even offer tufts of grass. Then they leave quietly one by one. **

**Sources:

Dr. Marc Bekoff, University of Colorado, Psychology Today;

Dr. Nicolas Verbeek ,The Cornell Lab of Ornithology, Species Account 1972a***

 ***Actually the Nicolas Verbeek paper cost $5 so I just lifted the information from someplace else. ;)

(All right. The one at this link is sort of cute.) https://www.zazzle.com/yellow_billed_magpie_tea_cup-183711232786379163

Note: links below are sort of random sites suggested by my host.

Yellow-billed Magpie

Eagle Scouts

It’s cold here. Stupid cold. The “feels like” temperature as they say here in the Midwest is -13. But out of the wind it’s a balmy 1. So just for fun, I dragged the family out birding New Year’s Eve. We didn’t expect to find too many birds in this weather. We didn’t.  Just one.

But a big one.

That evening I asked my ten year old grandson what I should write in my blog. Without hesitating he said:

“I [he’s talking as if he’s me here] -- I took the whole family birding but we didn’t see squat. Until my son-in-law [that would be my son-in-law of course] saw a bird in a tree. He was waving like crazy [my son-in-law not the bird] for us to come over where he was. He pointed at a bird. A big bird. A real big bird. Then my grandsons [that would be my grandsons :) ] walked closer with me. We got pretty close. It was cool. We got to see an Eagle and a movie today.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself. : )

 

Distinguishing Marks: If you have to wonder if it's a hawk or an eagle it's a hawk. When it's an Eagle you'll know. Huge.

 

Boring facts: Their nests are big too. Most are four to five feet across and a couple feet deep.The largest on record according to the National Eagle Center was "9.5 feet in diameter, 20 feet deep and weighed almost 3 tons."

Related articles

VIDEO: Man Frees Frozen Bird By Blowing On Its Feet

Big Honking Bird for E-Z I.D. Friday

A cold Christmas Bird Count reveals a surprising number of species

Now You See It

Hawaii became a state in 1959. Residents became Americans. Except for birds.

No one knew if they should be included on the North American bird list? That was up to the American Birding Association. But they couldn’t decide.

So here’s the silly predicament birders found themselves in. If you saw a golden plover for the first time in say California, it was a life bird. Here’s one I found near San Diego and proudly added it to my list.

But if you saw one in Hawaii (now part of the U.S) you couldn’t.

So the birds I photographed in Kona like this one:

Looked like this to the ABA.

You could always cheat of course. It’s your list after all. But that sucking sound you just heard was birders gasping at the prospect. The whole listing thing is built on a zealous honor system. Cheat at your own risk.

So why not list Hawaiian birds? Good question. It’s an island? Too far from the mainland? If so what about Attu? The birder’s mecca in the Aleutians? It’s an island so far west Sarah Palin really could see Russia from there.

Too many introduced species? Birds unrelated to North American birds? Not in the contiguous North American region? So on and so forth. The ABA felt these and other points needed careful consideration. Maybe so. But for 57 years?

Introduced Saffron Finch

But hallelujah! They’ve gone and done it. They will now include Hawaii. It’ll take a while. A year maybe. But what’s a year more or less with an organization that operates by half centuries?

Yes it will throw off Big Year Records. (I think that was secretly the Big Deal all along). But get in line behind Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle and all other record setters.

Besides the new status will help draw attention to Hawaiian birds which badly need help.

So in the end a good decision despite a ridiculously long debate.

You have to wonder about the poor guy making pizza runs for their meetings. "Let’s see: will that be four cheese or pepperoni?"

Related articles

LIVE FROM THE 60S: MICKEY MANTLE HITS FINAL CAREER HOMER #536...(SEPTEMBER 20, 1968) - EYE THE TICKER