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| Fledgling Blue Jay begs for food |
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| Evening Grosbeak - juvenile |
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| "Hey Dad, is this where I get the food?" |
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| Mrs. Downy (the frazzled one in the back) feeds her daughter |
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| Mr. Downy feeds his son |
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| Hairy Woodpecker - juvenile male |
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| A "shy" Red-bellied Woodpecker - he/she would not look at the camera |
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| Fledgling Common Grackle - one of many! |
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| Cedar Waxwings |
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| Downy Woodpecker |
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| Song Sparrow |
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| Mourning Dove |
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| Hairy Woodpecker |
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| Installing the leach field for the septic system |
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| Completed leach field is seeded and finish work is being done |
Earlier at Herrick's Cove, my first Vermont Prairie Warbler made an appearance, but headed out before I got my camera up.
I've been enjoying getting to know my new camera. First pic is out the back door, no zoom. Note the two hanging feeders (above bear reach). Second is from the same spot, 20x zoom.
Crown imperial in the garden ...
Hairy Woodpecker - two of ten taken with a 2 frames/second burst. First picture is uncropped.
I feel that I shouldn't neglect the regulars, such as this dapper looking Hairy - after all, he stayed the winter while the others wimped out and spent the snowy months in the tropics.
Six woodpeckers breed in southeastern Vermont. All six have been in my backyard. The Pileated Woodpecker, a species of mature forests, has made a couple of brief stops. The Northern Flicker occasionally forages in robin like fashion on the grass. The Red-bellied Woodpecker, a relatively new breeding species in Vermont, has made a few Spring visits, perhaps in search of a potential breeding territory.
The remaining three breeding woodpeckers are regulars in my backyard. Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers are present throughout the year; the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker forages throughout the summer in our willow tree.
Nearly all woodpeckers are sexually dimorphic. This means, simply, that males and females have two different forms. This difference is most observable when the dimorphism is dichromatic; that is, when there are color differences in the plumage for males and females. For many species of birds, distinguishing between the sexes is almost impossible. The plumage of Blue Jays and chickadees is the same for both sexes; during the breeding season an experienced bird bander may be able to see physiological evidence which will identify the sex of a bird in the hand. Outside of the breeding season, dissection may be only the sure way of distinguishing the sexes, but this technique is a bit difficult on the bird.
Females usually incubate the eggs; if we observe a Blue Jay sitting in the nest, we may be able to conclude that we are seeing the female, and we may be right most of the time. Such a conclusion, however, is based on probability, not on verifiable evidence, unless we are somehow able to examine the bird in hand. Most of the time, we must simply be content with knowing that the birds know who is what. In general, birds which are not sexually dimorphic are two parent families, with both parents taking an active part in raising their young.
By contrast, many of our favorite summer songbirds are markedly dimorphic. Think of the stunningly beautiful male Indigo Bunting and the plain jane female - likewise with the Purple Finch, and the Rose-breasted Grosbeak. The plumage differences are less dramatic but very evident with birds such as the Northern Cardinal, American Goldfinch, Baltimore Oriole, and nearly all of the warblers. In general (but with lots of exceptions) the handsome male keeps singing, protecting his territory, and mating as often as possible, while the female does the parenting duties without much help.
Our six resident woodpeckers are all sexually dimorphic, and distinguishable by plumage differences between the male and the female. These differences in plumage are slight, but clearly observable. For example, the male Yellow-bellied Sapsucker has a bright red cap and a bright red throat. The female’s throat is white. The male Northern Flicker has a black mustache; the female does not have the mustache. The male Red-bellied Woodpecker has a bright red stripe over the top and back of his head; the female has less red, usually only on the back of the head. Both the Downy and Hairy males have a bright red spot on the back of their heads; the females do not have the red spot.
In my backyard there is lots of opportunity to watch woodpeckers, and much opportunity to observe the differences. The Downy and Hairy are the two most common. Their plumage pattern is almost identical. The Hairy is larger (9 inches verses 6.5 inches); the Hairy’s bill is much longer and larger. The Downy’s bill is short, almost petite. The juveniles of both species appear to be smaller than their parents when they have first fledged, with the result that the sizes between the two species almost overlap. Juvenile Downy and Hairy males have a rusty red crown rather than the red spot on the back of the head of the adult males; juvenile females do not have any distinctive plumage differences but can usually be identified, as so many young, by their cluelessness.
The Downy and Hairy both have a large white patch on their backs. The similarly sized Yellow-bellied Sapsucker has a long white stripe on its folded wing. This white side stripe makes it possible to identify the sapsucker as it works its way along a tree trunk, even when no other field marks can be seen. The juvenile sapsucker also has this white wing strip, but its head is mostly brown.
Year round, all woodpeckers forage for insects hidden in bark, but they also eat fruit, berries, and seeds. The Downy and Hairy are especially fond of suet, but will also take seeds from a feeder. As with most species, woodpeckers may have a preferred diet, but when times are lean, they will include in their diet whatever food is available.
Insects are the principle component in the diet of all of our woodpeckers, including the sapsucker. The sapsucker does drink tree sap (the little round holes on a tree trunk are evidence of its activity), but like all animals, it needs protein. On several occasions, I have seen a sapsucker carrying a beak full of insects back to its nest hole. On the other hand, the Downy Woodpecker will also drink tree sap on occasion, especially maple sap in the early spring; this led to its folk name, Little Sapsucker. The Hairy Woodpecker was similarly named, Big Sapsucker.
The common names of our most common woodpeckers make little sense. The Downy and Hairy were named by naturalists with the bird in hand. They apparently felt that the feathers of the Downy were soft and downy, and that the feathers of the Hairy were shaggy, rough, and hairy. But in the field, the Downy does not look downy and the Hairy does not look hairy. Likewise, the less common Red-bellied Woodpecker seldom shows its red belly except in the hand.
On the other hand, the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker does have a yellowish belly, and the eastern “yellow-shafted” race of the Northern Flicker clearly shows yellow feather shafts under its wings when it flies. At least the Pileated Woodpecker, with its prominent red crest, is named for a field mark which we can all see. “Pileated” derives from the Latin for “crest,” although with few us having studied Latin, we would only know this if our curiosity sends us to a dictionary. Curiosity sent me to the dictionary, and a bunch of other resources. And I’m glad to share with you.
In the heat of the summer, I don’t do a lot of birding. But I do a lot of sitting still and bird watching. And the bird watching has been good!
During the last week, I have found it impossible to sit on my back porch and read. Oh, I try. But there is such a riot of activity that I can’t even open the book.
Many neighborhood birds are bringing their nesting season to a conclusion, (though some may nest for a second or third time). The young are gathering at my feeders, sometimes following a parent. Or when the parents have gotten tired of feeding them, the young return to my feeders on their own. It seems that every bird amenable to bird feeders has brought their young around to enjoy my largess. The results are wild and raucous.
I’ve never had so many grackles. They’ve been breeding with such proficiency that the plain brown-black young form flocks, following iridescent adults here and there, their route of passage crossing and crisscrossing my yard with pauses in the apple tree, quick forays for ground seed, then off to the pines across the river.
The grackles are noisy, but they are nothing compared to the Blue Jays. The Blue Jays go nowhere without screaming about it. The young have been fluttering their wings in the apple tree, demanding to be fed, and their parents are accommodating ... up to a point. Once the point has been reached, the begging youngsters are disciplined and chased, and gradually get the idea that the free meals have ended. It is time to do for themselves.
Many young birds look almost identical to their parents when they leave the nest and begin traveling on their own. A clue to their young age is their cluelessness. I watched a young Blue Jay picking seeds on the ground. It was getting plenty to eat. The older jays shovel copious amounts of seed from the feeder as they seek the one seed suitable to their palate. The shoveled seeds supply the many ground feeders, including the chipmunks and squirrels. (My feelings about chipmunks whose cheek pouches bulge with my seed are ambiguous at best.)
The young jay was getting plenty to eat. But it clearly had little clue about any dangers or risks. It was still dealing with the unwelcome reality that mom and dad were no longer going to feed him and he had to feed himself.
On the cluelessness scale, the young Mourning Doves rank the highest. Sometimes the young doves have a scaliness to their plumage lacking in the adults, but that disappears after a short time. It is cluelessness that gives away their young age. Mourning Doves begin nesting very early in the Spring; they lay two eggs, and once that small brood has been raised, they do it again ... and again ... three or four broods a year. This means that there can be many naive youngsters hanging around. Doves are generally quiet and gentle birds, but the young exhibit these traits to an extreme. I can easily approach the feeder where they like to rest - sometimes as close as three or four feet before the youngsters finally, and reluctantly, take flight. They have no idea that two legged creatures are the most dangerous creatures in the world. For that matter, they have no idea that their gentle passivity makes them favorite prey for a Sharp-shinned or Cooper’s Hawk, also birds which are attracted to the convenience of backyard feeders.
Smaller birds are often more difficult to age. Young chickadees, titmice, nuthatches, finches, and many sparrows quickly lose their downiness and look like their parents within a few days of leaving the nest. But the chickadee on the branch over my head that impatiently flutters its wings, or the finch in the dogwood crouched and chittering with open beak is a young bird wanting to be fed, and in moments a harried parent will accommodate its demand ... for the moment.
Five Evening Grosbeaks on the platform feeder one morning included three juveniles. They weren’t begging, and their plumage was very similar to the adult females, but there was a hesitancy about their feeding which gave away their youthfulness.
An aside about bird feeders. My feeders were trashed in early June by a young bear. He came back a day later, nosing around the composter. My spouse, using her authoritative, disciplinary tone honed by many years in the classroom, admonished his misbehavior, clapped her hands and chased him off. He has not returned, and we have replaced our feeders. But to remove temptation, we bring them at night. The birds have readily adjusted, although it sometimes seems that the jays are especially noisy on those rare mornings when we sleep past 6:30.
For sheer entertainment, the woodpeckers have led the way this year. It’s been a banner year. I usually have two pair of Downy Woodpeckers and a pair of Hairy Woodpeckers which visit my suet feeder throughout the year. This summer (I am guessing) that number has doubled. It is hard to know for sure, but there have been so many young woodpeckers being fed by adults for so long (at least two weeks now, maybe three) that there must be a succession of families.
I become mesmerized watching a parent clamber over the suet cage, sometimes clinging upside down to the side or the bottom. The youngster also watches intently, creeping after the parent, squawking when it seems to be taking too long. Both are so intent on their tasks - feeding and being fed - that I can slowly approach, almost within touching distance, before they fly.
Then there is the adult picking out suet pieces who is approached by a young bird. Impatiently he chases off the youngster. Was the youngster someone else’s, hoping for a handout from any adult? Or was it still begging from a parent who had done enough and knew it was time for its offspring to fend for itself?
Young male Hairy and Downy Woodpeckers have a red cap (sometimes yellow on the Hairy) instead of red on the back of the head. So, it is possible to identify the juveniles after they have been weaned from their parents. I had a juvenile Hairy and a juvenile Downy hanging on opposite sides of the suet feeder, busily pecking away, while three more juveniles waited on the post and hanging basket for their turn. All flew off when Dad Downy flew in, followed by a juvenile female making her “ki, ki, ki, ki” begging calls. Then came mother Hairy with a fledgling in tow. She flew and he followed, and Dad Downy returned.
And so it continues through late afternoon and evening. There’s hardly any time to make dinner - just grab a quick leftover - because a young jay just made a last hopeful wing flutter before picking up seeds. Now the grackles are back. There’s a young catbird at the suet. Here comes the Hairy. There must be four Downies moving through the branches. Is it any wonder that I can’t read on the back porch with all this going on?
