Fall's feathered friends

As summer flowers fade away, nature compensates. The garden, along with trees and feeders, is atwitter with more birds than we've seen in months. Some had traveled north for the summer (a  tradition shared by many Minnesota humans). Many who stay find their own food sources in summer. And for a time an aggressive house sparrow was patrolling "his" territory, chasing away any bird that ventured in. More about him later.

Anyway, we looked out one September day and began to notice feathered friends we hadn't seen for a while, and we were happy to welcome them back.

Mourning dove in hiding

* Mourning doves--five or six of them--gather here every day. They roost in the big horse chestnut tree, scavenge under the main feeder, and occasionally perch--one or two at a time--on the feeder itself. They seem too large to fit comfortably, yet there they sit.

* Goldfinches are back in large number, mostly showing their winter olive drab. On sunny afternoons a few bustle among the seedheads of the coneflowers outside my office window, and each day our finch feeder is busy.

* Woodpeckers, both downy and hairy, have returned to the feeders and at least one is busy tapping on metal drainpipes. I wonder whether they ever shake loose a tasty insect.

Nuthatch being gymnastic

* Nuthatches have reappeared; when they're gone we miss the graceful arc of their heads as they peer from their upside-down perch.

* Black-capped chickadees are announcing their return, though they should never have left. Our nesting box was intended for them, and last spring a pair seemed about to move in. That's when a house sparrow, as they are wont to do, chased them off and began nest-building with his female partner. We watched for days as they brought grass, string, and bits of paper (he repeatedly brought one too-large piece and she repeatedly tossed it out). Our attention to this soap opera (The Young and the Nestless, of course) was interrupted by a weekend away, and when we returned, things were quiet. Too quiet. Then at mid-day a handful of crows visited, nosing around the nesting box and being loudly reprimanded by one mad sparrow. We think they had come before and had gotten the female sparrow just before she laid her eggs. When we opened the box later to check, there was a clean, empty nest. That's why during much of the summer we had one male sparrow and virtually no chickadees.   

Cardinal pair last winter

* Cardinals, in the neighborhood all summer, brought wonderful surprises. We have seen several sets of fledglings in our yard, sometimes accompanied by an adult who seemed to be teaching them to find food. One day we watched as an adult and fledgling came together for a moment, beak to beak. "Awww," I said, touched by this moment of seeming tenderness. I immediately told myself not to anthropomorphize them, but when I saw it happen weeks later, with a different parent and fledgling, I said "Awww" again. 

Last week I heard the characteristic "tsk" that tells me an adult cardinal is nearby with its young. When I looked up from my desk, a bright red male was on the fence looking directly toward me, repeating its "tsk" as if to warn me away--or invite me to watch? Moments later 10 or 12 small brownish birds were sitting all along the fence. I wondered whether they were some kind of sparrow.

Young house sparrows

I grabbed the nearest camera and shot--through the screen, into harsh light and shadow, the camera refusing to auto-focus on the tiny figures and the good camera out of reach. More than a good photo, I needed an image I could enlarge in order to identify these birds. Twice they returned in smaller numbers, and I got this better photo. When I published this two days ago, I was looking at their beaks and thinking they were baby cardinals.

Then I realized there is no trace of a crest, so I edited the post to say they were probably finches. But the observant Willow has pointed out in a comment that they are, in fact, house sparrows. Which is ironic, because it was a house sparrow--maybe their dad?--that chased away other birds this summer. We know they are typically aggressive, and they aren't the neighbors we hope for. But they were here at least twice in the presence of adult cardinals, so maybe we really did have multiple families on hand.

In any event, I hope nature is bringing you a few pleasant surprises.

P.S. The day I saw these guys drinking water that had cycled through the planter I drained it and put out a separate pan of fresh water.

The Young and the Nestless

The drama at our backyard bird feeders lately is worthy of a soap opera.

A couple of months ago Peter, ViMae, and I spotted two hairy woodpeckers flitting flirtatiously in the tree just outside the kitchen window. Their dance concluded, the female flew down and perched in the snow. Peter says she was gazing up at the male "with stars in her eyes." Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a hawk swooped down, snatched her up in its talons, and glided to the top of the fence. Our jaws dropped as the female struggled, then shuddered, then was still. It all happened in less than two minutes. The hawk carried his prey to a high tree in a neighbor's yard, and for another few moments, small feathers drifted down on the breeze.

Now we have a pairing that we hope will have a happy ending, but even their story has some drama.

Female house sparrow atop the nesting box.

In February a pair of house sparrows began to show interest in a nesting box that has been "for rent" since grandson Augie built it last year. With our nasty March and April weather we saw no more activity until last week.

On Monday a pair of black-capped chickadees checked out the place and fended off other birds that happened by. We were thrilled; chickadees are the neighbors we hope to attract. On Wednesday, though, the chickadees were chased off by sparrows that were just a little more fierce. I can't tell whether this is the same pair of sparrows we saw in February, but they soon began showing up with small twigs, and as one worked the other stood guard.

Male house sparrow patrolling his territory.

We were watching them during breakfast Thursday morning, agreeing that the smaller and more colorful of the two was the male. Hunkered down on the fence and fluffed up to ward off the cold, the female looked like she might be "with child."

Perhaps not. Suddenly the male flew over and mounted the female. "Look," Peter said, trying to be delicate, "He's helping her make eggs." Momentarily, I pictured a couple in a kitchen, taking turns scrambling eggs and cheese. The children, who know about birds and bees, craned for a better view. Peter hurriedly jockeyed the kids toward the window, and the sparrows mated two or three more times. As the show ended, we wished the sparrows a  happy parenthood and a safe future in our backyard, though we are mindful of the risks.

The birds have had to suffer through another five days of nasty cold weather including rain and snow. The happy couple made no appearances during that time, but they seem to be back today, and spring is supposed to return tomorrow. Will they succeed in building a nest? Will they lay eggs? Will they survive against their natural enemies? Tune in again for another episode of The Young and the Nestless.

I am watching you.

It was still early in the snowstorm when two cardinals and a handful of white-throated sparrows took up roosting in the forsythia just outside our kitchen window. Usually they position themselves so I cannot get a decent shot of any of them, but on this gray day the male cardinal puffed himself up and said, "I dare you." Thanks to the flu, I couldn't get outside, but I happily settled for a through-the-window shot of the brightest thing in the landscape.

October adventures

A stretch of Mississippi River that divides Minneapolis and St. Paul residential areas is breath-taking in its autumn colors this year. With Vi and Augie, we drove along St. Paul's East River Road and stopped at this overlook.

The kids enjoyed the color, but they were disappointed that we couldn't climb down the bluffs to the water.

But...we visited another part of the river, where it curves around downtown St. Paul (or vice versa). We took a picnic lunch to Harriet Island, played at the playground, and walked along the river to look at buildings, boats, ducks, and minnows.

The playground includes this impressionistic sternwheeler meant for kids to climb.   

Under the plastic slides and bridges of today's playground equipment are cozy spaces where Augie "opens a restaurant" and serves me lunch. Today's pretend menu was potstickers and lo mein.

A highlight of the day came during our picnic, when Augie pointed to the sky and shouted, "Look! An eagle!" Sure enough, he'd spotted a bald eagle soaring above the Mississippi. It circled slowly above us, and in the noonday sun its white head gleamed against the deep blue sky. Alas, it returned downstream before I managed to get my camera out.

Peter and I have scouted a few Twin Cities bird-watching spots, hoping to find a place that the kids can enjoy. At Harriet Island yesterday, we learned that it only takes one really good bird to make an outing a success. Extra points for playgrounds and colored leaves.

Catching up with the birds

The birds outside our kitchen window have been keeping us entertained. Here are a few more photos from recent weeks.

On a windy, sunless day in late April, just before it snowed again, I spotted the neighborhood mourning doves in our buckeye tree. It was unusual to see them up there and to see their feathers so wind-blown.

It was calm and sunny when they returned a day or two later, foraging under the bird feeders. (This week we spotted them perched on the big feeder, something we also had not seen before.)

A migrating group of 15 or 20 white-throated sparrows spent several days scavenging for seed on the ground. They come in two varieties, white-striped and tan-striped, and they breed with their opposites. It rained much of the time they were here, but I managed to grab a shot of this white-striped one. (Later, a similar one flew against the window and fell dead; we and the children put plastic bags on our hands and had an impromptu closeup look which I did not photograph.)

On his way to Canada or Alaska is this American tree sparrow. I am so pleased that he and his friends stopped in for a day or two.

The male goldfinches have rather suddenly emerged in full summer finery...but they flee every time I get out my camera. Still, I love this shot of a tiny finch seemingly taking on a brown-headed cowbird.

How could I forget...robins have been back for a while. This makes it official: spring is here.

As if the real-life birds weren't enough, I keep watching eagle and loon cameras. Here's an update on the Hornby Island family: Alexandra and David, named for two British Columbia environmentalists, are 10 and 7 days old today. They have huge appetites and a bit of sibling rivalry, and their parents are already teaching them to get along.

King(let) of the forest

Conversation a few days ago between hubby and our four-year-old grandson, Augie:

Click photo to read about this bird on BirdForum

Peter: Come look at the tiny bird on the suet feeder. It's a little like a finch, but it has a red streak on its head.

Augie: It's a ruby-crowned kinglet.

Peter: No, I think a kinglet is some kind of water bird.

Augie (emphatically): No, a ruby-crowned kinglet is a coniferous forest bird.

Peter (skeptically): Get your bird book; let's see what it says.

Augie: See, right here, it's a ruby-crowned kinglet.

And that's exactly what it was.

So now we've met a whole new variety of bird, a tad bigger than a hummingbird and less efficient at hovering. It is passing through on its migration northward. Males do have a reddish patch, but much of the time it is flat to their heads and cannot be seen.

I've been trying to get a shot of this active little guy, but so far he hasn't stayed around long enough. Photographing a ruby-crowned kinglet is now on my bucket list (I have simple wants). Meanwhile, I borrowed a photo from BirdForum.

New visitors to the bird feeders

Hooray, the birds are ignoring Minnesota's ridiculously late snowfalls and beginning to migrate to and through our neighborhood. Just moments ago, I saw my first-ever yellow-rumped warbler, who paused for one photo only. Hope he and some friends stop back here before moving on northward.

Meanwhile, we had a small group of black birds with almost no distinguishing features, and after studying them and the bird books (and the internet) we've concluded they must be brown-headed cowbirds. The cowbird is not an honorable creature--they lay eggs in the nests of other birds, who feed the babies. The sad part is that those babies soon are larger than the bird's own babies and eat way more than their share. Thus cowbirds diminish the population of the birds whose hospitality they abuse. I hope they move on quickly.

Meanwhile, many of our winter friends are dropping by in pairs. This includes cardinals, chickadees, mourning doves, finches, nuthatches, and woodpeckers. We hope there is lots of nest-building going on.

Guests for lunch

Yesterday I hung a nyjer seed sock just outside the kitchen window, hoping to attract goldfinches. Within an hour, I spotted one on the sock. It flew off to a neighbor's yard, and five minutes later, a half-dozen winter-hued goldfinches showed up. This morning they were back in force, and they timed their visits so we could watch them during breakfast and lunch.

While I was hanging the sock, I heard what seemed to be some calls of alarm from birds around the neighborhood. I looked up and saw a red-tailed hawk flying very high, directly above our house. It was a dramatic reminder of the wide variety of birds in our urban forest.

Meanwhile, Peter and I are wowed by the fact that these tiny birds found this little sock feeder so quickly. The kids are delighted to watch them, and we all look forward to seeing their summer colors... many months from now.

Happy 2011

BLissed-Out Grandma and her birdy friends wish you a happy new year filled with discovery, plenty, and happiness.

I have a little new-year surprise for you, which I'll post soon, so I hope you'll come back.

Sparrows and finches and woodpeckers, oh my!

We woke up to a heavy, wet snowfall and a symphony of chirping in the back yard. Apparently our bird feeders are on the map. As we watched, dozens of birds were gathering in nearby trees and swooping in for a snack. They swarmed around all day, now and then scattering because of a passing vehicle or a sudden plop of show from the upper branches.

We had lots of finches and sparrows all day. The juncos put in an appearance for an hour or two. A couple of chickadees stopped by.

A downy woodpecker and a nuthatch took turns at the suet feeder.

A female cardinal graced us with her presence.

And our first-ever red-bellied woodpecker visited twice!

We introduced our feeders sometime last winter, and it takes a while for birds to find them, so today was an all-time high in popularity. Our feathered friends are definitely brightening up an otherwise blustery winter day!

And P.S., I want to thank Abe Lincoln for his advice about feeders and about creating a welcoming spot for birds. His photos take your breath away. I'm just taking snapshots through a snow-streaked window, but it's fun anyway.