The Zen Birdfeeder

More Birds in the World

Every year in June and July, I love to remark to customers that their bird feeder activity is crazy busy because “there’s more birds in the world!”

Just about daily during the peak of the breeding season, more eggs are laid, more eggs are hatched, and more nestlings leave the nest into the big, wide world around us. Where there were two birds, there are now six or seven. And in species that have two or more broods each season, there are now eight or ten!

Let me take you into my yard and play this scenario out. Each summer, I tend to have about 19 species of birds visiting my yard and eating at my bird feeders. And to simplify this, let’s just say I have 2 of each species to start with, a male and a female bird. So by late spring when migration is done, I have 38 birds of 19 different species regularly visiting my yard.

I do have a great assortment of birds at my bird feeders throughout the year like chickadees, jays, 3 different woodpeckers, nuthatches, juncos, titmice and more. They are joined during the summer months by migrants like Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Ruby-throated Hummingbirds, Chipping Sparrows and others.

During nesting season, most of these birds have one brood of young, though some, like cardinals, doves, and robins regularly have two or even three. And each species has a range of brood size, most of them around 5. Hummingbirds and doves typically only have 2 eggs per brood, while Hairy Woodpeckers and Blue Jays can have upwards of 5 to 6 per brood.

So by the time my 38 birds have a typical number of young, the number of birds in my yard has more than tripled! My 19 pairs of adults are now tending to 96 awkward and begging and sometimes very noisy young. Why does my yard seem so busy and active and loud? Because where there were 38 birds in late spring, there are now 134 birds!

Now I realize I have oversimplified this for illustration’s sake. Some yards have more than one breeding pair which of course would push the count even higher. On the other hand, a number of nests filled with eggs or nestlings are lost to predation and natural causes. And many birds, especially this season’s young, are lost to window strikes, predation, and natural causes. There are many factors, natural or otherwise, that can drive this number higher or lower.

But one of the joys of feeding the birds in your yard is being able to witness this miracle each summer. Besides exclaiming that “there are more birds in the world”, I also like to refer to our yards as a “bird nursery”, filled with adults tending to young and introducing them to the accessible and plentiful bounty provided by the bird feeders in our yard.

 

Hello, Goodbye

Bird migrations are often like the Beatles’ song, “Hello, Goodbye”. Thankfully in spring, it is more Hello than Goodbye.

Many of us will say “goodbye” to juncos, but soon we’ll say “hello” to many more birds like grosbeaks and orioles and hummingbirds.

Sometimes, within days it’s both “hello” AND “goodbye” as we welcome migrating birds like Fox Sparrows and warblers and then send them on their way.

Spring migration is a wonderful time of year and with more hours at home due to social distancing, now we’ll all be around to enjoy it a little more.

Things at Your Bird Feeders are a-Changin’

Not more than a week ago, our bird feeders were almost abandoned. We’d see doves (4 or so), chickadees (4 or so), 1-2 cardinals at dawn and dusk, and little else.

Temps were still moderate, the ground and trees were unencumbered by snow such that birds and other wildlife were harvesting their needs directly from nature. There wasn’t a whole lot of need to visit our bird feeders except for a quick ‘n easy snack on the way to their next destination.

In response, our feeder set-ups were correspondingly minimal - only about 1/3 of the feeders were in use, and those, only 1/3 to 1/2 filled. A good strategy - we don’t want to waste food in feeders if the birds aren’t coming!

Our first Project FeederWatch count of the season documented the reality of things - albeit only over a short period of time, we saw a total of 11 individual birds of 5 different species. Pretty low for a property boasting all the food, water, and shelter that birds and other wildlife thrive in.

A handful of chickadees and titmice, a hairy, cardinal, and a couple jays. That’s it. MIA were downies and even the doves. No nuthatches, no finches. Sad.

But just one day later, with the outdoor “thermostat” down add a little snow cover, as they sing, “times, they are a-changin’.”

Just 24 hours after our first count, we’ve had 28 individuals birds in the yard of 12 different species! The surprises were a single Red-winged Blackbird (very late for us, we haven’t seen one in months) and two Fox Sparrows doing their scratch-back motion to uncover food just below the snow and leaf debris.

Juncos (five), jays and chickadees, a pair of cardinals, as well as a Red-breasted Nuthatch and a couple goldfinches. Much better!

So now is the time to start looking for this gradual increase in birds at your feeders and in the area surrounding them (the Fox Sparrows were foraging under shrubs). SLOWLY add more food to your existing feeders, proportionate to the bird activity and SLOWLY add additional feeders back to your set up.

We’ve been anxious for the birds to return. The yard has been somewhat sad of late, and we were missing the movement and color and antics of our beautiful birds. We joyously welcome them back to our yard!

 

 

Natural Food Sources for Birds and Wildlife

When bird feeder activity declines in the early fall, we usually write it off to the abundance of “natural food sources”. Well, what exactly do we mean by that?

Here’s just a sampling of the natural foods that become plentiful and are available (until covered by snow) to birds and other wildlife in a typical autumn. Some years there’s more of one and less of the other (we hear that acorns are widely available this year) which makes each year different in the amount and type of foods available and thus impacts the bird and wildlife activity in our yards.

• Fruits and berries from trees and shrubs (examples: sumac, mountain ash, chokecherry, crabapple)
• Weed and grass seeds
• Spent flower heads (fading coneflowers, sunflowers, zinnia, nasturtium, goldenrod, etc.)
• Insects that hide in dead wood, in plant stems, in rolled up leaves, in and under bark
• Leftover vegetables in gardens
• Pine cone seeds
• Acorns and other tree nuts (seeds)
• Small insects under leaf litter
• Tent caterpillars
• Crabgrass seeds
• Garden herbs gone to seed
• Insect and spider eggs, casings, larvae, and carcasses

You can have a hand in providing and preserving these great foods for birds and wildlife by choosing natives when you plant and maintaining a “messy” yard and garden.

Adults Acting Like Children

When I heard the “feed-me” call, I recognized it as the begging cry of fledgling Purple Finches. Persistent and seemingly never-ending, the “feed-me, feed-me, feed-me” was coming from the area most frequented by these pretty finches.

But is was May 20th, WAY too early for young Purple Finches to be emerging from a nest. I had a suspicion about the source of the call and had to seek it out. I’d just seen full grown Blue Jays in early May acting like children - wing quivering and begging - but in this case, to form a pair bond between birds. I've seen and heard it with chickadees as well - kid-like behavior exhibited well before young birds are expected to fledge.

I followed the “feed-me, feed-me” solo halfway up the tree and saw a clearly adult male Purple Finch. At this time of year, only an adult male is that beautiful cranberry color all over - no young finches have earned those colors yet. And off on a nearby branch was an apparent female purply. I say “apparent” because at this time of year, last year’s males aren’t cranberry either. They’ll molt into their colorful plumage this fall.

The beautiful male was wooing a mate, crouching with shoulders low, rear end up, beak up, and wings a-fluttering. And vocalizing with that incessant “feed-me” call I had typically associated with their young.

It was beautiful to watch and listen to this pretty male serenading his girl. He had her attention but sometimes you have to work hard to get the things you want. She took off, with her amorous suitor following behind.

Birds Have Wings

Yesterday was a Project FeederWatch day and there were few birds around to be counted. A few chickadees, a few titmice, a couple downies and hairies. A few others too, but only one jay. That was weird. Any day that I welcome more cardinals than I do Blue Jays is just weird.

Today as I sit reading and glancing out my windows at the feeders, the jays are crazy busy. At least 8 of them bouncing around in the plum tree at all the Hot Pepper offerings, dominating the tray below the hopper feeder, and chipping away at a bug nut cylinder. 

Why today and not yesterday? It’s the same time of day. It’s a little clearer but 20 degrees colder. Maybe it was a colder overnight too. No precipitation either day.

We can’t always put an exact reason on why birds are there one day and gone the next, but to calm our minds and satisfy our curiosity, it sometimes helps to remember a comeback from Roger Tory Peterson to a woman inquiring about a wandering bird: “birds have wings”.

A Cardinal Loss

We had a fatal window strike last week, a male cardinal. I found him laying in the seat of the Adirondack chair that sits beneath our front windows.

I had been sitting in that chair about 12 hours earlier, so it had to have occurred either at nightfall or quite early in the morning. It was puzzling because we'd been in the house, and didn't hear that awful "thunk" against the window.

We buried him but he hasn't left my mind since.

Spring wildlife deaths bother me maybe the most. Whether it's roadkill or a bird in my own yard, spring deaths seem so unfair. Animals that survived a northeast winter's cold and ice and snow, lived to greet the spring only to meet their demise as breeding is just getting underway. It doesn't seem fair.

No bird loss is easy, but a cardinal loss is extra hard. We just don't have many cardinals in the yard. I knew we definitely had one pair, and the loss of one-half of that pair is devastating to me.

We didn't even have cardinals in our yard until 2005! Cardinals have been expanding their range northward and to higher elevations, and it wasn't until after 15 years of feeding birds in our yard that a male cardinal appeared on April 2, 2005. We've had them regularly since, though not in large numbers. They breed here now, but the death of even one cardinal is a terrible loss.

Then I worry about Mrs. Cardinal. Over the past couple weeks, I saw a cardinal pair staying quite close to each other, feeding together, and at least three instances of mate-feeding. Her on a perch or a feeder, he approaching with his sweet offer of food, she kindly accepting his gift. A cardinal pair engaged in mate-feeding is likely to nest nearby.

A cardinal pair had also been exchanging songs, another sign of pair formation. Morning and dusk, early to rise, late to sleep, I was assured a duet of "what cheer" from the two.

Was my dead male part of that pair? And if they were paired, just how far were they in the breeding process?  Was the nest built and eggs laid? Without a dad to keep mom fed during incubation, the brood would probably not survive. Were the eggs hatched? Again, broods with two parents feeding them fair better than one parent broods, if a one parent brood survive at all.

I see the female now and then. And I have seen a male in the yard. But I think that's what he was: "a" male, not "the" male. I see no mate-feeding. I hear no cross-singing early in the morning and as night falls. I fear the worst has happened and "the" male cardinal that ruled our yard and pronounced it theirs is gone.

It's getting dark out there, five days after our loss. It's just before 8pm, and I see the female cardinal alone at the bath, no male in sight. No cardinal duet, so for me, even though there's plenty of other bird songs and calls, the silence is deafening. I'll miss him and think of him all summer long, and the redbird family that might have been.

Related articles

Cardinal Dad Taking Care of the Kid

What to Watch for in Your Yard - Young Cardinals

What to Watch for in Your Yard - Young Birds in Trees

A Great Gray Owl in the Adirondacks

We're not really bird chasers, or twitchers - those who travel long distances to see a rare bird for their life list. Sure, a Great Gray Owl would be a life bird for both of us, but we both keep a life list so casually that neither of us know how many birds are on it. Guess that means it's not a real life list!

This IS the furthest we've ever traveled to see a single rare bird. 210 miles round-trip to Keene, New York. Before this trip, the furthest I've traveled to see a rare bird was in 2010 to see a Rufous Hummingbird that was visiting a feeder about 20 miles south of my house.

But we decided to chase this bird, a single Great Gray Owl that has been consistently found in a fairly small field in the Adirondacks for the last month or so. The Great Gray is a rare bird for sure, irrupting into the northern tier of states when rodent prey in the boreal is scarce.

Great Grays are known to hunt both day and night, but we heard that this guy had been most active in the evening and occasionally in the morning. But if the wind was up, it might just stay put all day long. We arrived at about 2:30pm and it was doing exactly that - staying put. An observer all the way up from Long Island who had been there since morning helped us spot the owl, just a speck in a tree 3-4 football fields away. So we just settled in and for the next 3 hours, we waited.

Great Gray Owl
Phonescoped from 3 football fields away

People came and went, some just checking to see what was going on while others had heard about this rare owl in their area. Some stepped out of their car entirely unprepared for the 15 degree temperatures and wind, and all of them appreciated a peek through our scope to give them at least a distant view of what was otherwise only a hard-to-find speck on a distant tree. I was impressed that every observer who showed up made no attempt to cross the privately-owned field to encroach upon the bird for a better view or camera shot.

We had heard that you didn't necessarily need to approach the owl - the owl might approach you. We heard a story from a guy who was back after having a close encounter earlier in the week. He had been observing from the warmth of his truck, only to be completely surprised and utterly delighted when the owl, obviously without fear of humans and unfazed by vehicles, tripods, and massive cannon-length lenses, alighted on a fence post less than 10 feet from him and a half dozen humans and all their artifacts. 

This was our hope - that as dusk approached, the owl would become active and perch on one of the many fence posts lining the narrow dirt road. 

As late afternoon came, his activity started to increase incrementally. First, from one perch on a tree to another branch on the same tree. Then to a branch in a nearby tree. Then to the ground for a bit and back up to another branch. Then a longer flight left across the field and to the ground. Each time, he was getting just a little closer. As he perched on the top of a short evergreen tree, he had cut the distance to less than one football field.

Great Gray Owl
Phonescoped

The short flights continued, from perch to ground to perch, getting closer each time. And with each flight, our looks got better. His size and facial features become even more impressive. The Great Gray is the tallest owl in North America, reaching up to 33" tall and his wingspan can approach 5 feet. As his name implies, he looks huge. But that bulky look is a bit misleading: his thick, fluffed up plumage makes him look heavier than he really is; in actuality, he weighs in at less than the smaller Great Horned Owl.

And that face! His yellow eyes lure you in to a spectacular gray face circularly framed in black. His black and white "bow tie", which was visible through the scope even at 300 yards, became even more striking at close range. He was regal and aloof, oblivious to his fawning fans.

He perched on a number of fence posts not far off the road, good hunting perches for him, great viewing and photographing perches for us. He pounced a few times, though we didn't see that he came up with anything. But daylight was disappearing quickly, bringing our "hunt" to an end. But his continued, allowing "The Ghost of the North" to hunt as he likely does in his boreal home - in solitude.

Turn to the Birds

If you are finding things a bit unsettling and stressful lately, just turn to the birds.

Watching and enjoying the birds at your birdfeeders in your own yard can take your mind off all the craziness in our world. Birds can transport us to a calm and peaceful place. They have the power to settle our minds and soothe our souls.

They reduce stress and calm our bodies and minds. They make us happy.

They don't ask for much in return. Just a birdfeeder or two, a source of water, and a little place to hide (in case stress comes into their lives!)

There has perhaps never been a time when the beauty and joy of birds in our yards can mean and do so much for our minds and our bodies.

Refresh your birdfeeders and take the time to relax and turn to the birds right outside your windows.

Ice Storm

We're slowly coming out of another debilitating ice storm. Even from inside, we've heard the sharp cracks and messy tumbles of nearby trees or large limbs. Our beloved plum tree has for the second time in just weeks been brought to its knees.

Ice storms may be "nature's pruners" but Mother Nature, in all her wisdom and glory, has no artistic eye as she works. Vulnerable branches may all fall from the same side of the tree, leaving us with half a tree when the ice retreats. Depending on how long the ice remains, some of the birches never raise their branches fully again, spending the rest of their lives as if in arboreal mourning.

Temperature alone won't clear the ice; even slightly above freezing, the ice holds on, even gains some weight. The best we can hope for is for the clouds to clear, the sun to shine, and no wind, allowing the ice to surrender peacefully, giving the trees and shrubs a chance to slowly stretch their limbs and regain their shape. Wind just adds insult to injury, snapping and tearing at ice-laden branches.

The birds don't recognize their favorite perches anymore but adjust quickly to find the feeder drooping near the ground. At other feeders, they come in from below or squeeze through the gaps in the ice cage surrounding their birdfood. It's not easy on them so I clear the icicles and spread seed out on the deck. They smartly avoid the side of the house where ice chunks are breaking loose and pelting the ground like a hailstorm.

If you look closely, you can see the tail of the chickadee getting peanuts on the back side of this feeder!

Yet through it all, I hear the chickadees singing. The male's two-note "fee-bee" song makes it clear that they are not going to let a little ice slow the inevitable progression toward spring.