Thursday, August 30, 2012

Rock River Revival Parade

No birds (or butterflies) in this post, but I need an outlet for family, friends, and neighbors to view images from the Rock River Revival Parade. Even so, this 6 minute video gives a good glimpse of small town (very small town) America.

On Sunday, August 26, the villages of South Newfane & Williamsville marked the anniversary of Tropical Storm Irene (8/28/11) with a community parade. The video below is a compilation of the photographs I took of the parade - an outpouring of community spirit.

Since I was a participant in the parade (look for an orange hard-hat on a lawn mower), the pictures are simply combined in roughly chronological order, beginning with the gathering and staging, photos from the perspective of a participant, the parade after I parked and could spectate the end, and here and there photos.


South Newfane resident Susan Keese reported on the parade for Vermont Public Radio. Listen to her report "Vermonters Take to the Streets to Remember Irene"

Visit the South Newfane/Williamsville VT Bulletin Board on Facebook for more photos from the parade, including Luke Stafford's soon to be posted video.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

The Challenges Faced by Breeding Birds

The breeding season for the birds is just about over. In my yard it has been a successful and entertaining season, with a succession of young birds being fed in the trees and bushes, and around the feeders. But what I see in my yard is just a fraction of the activity, challenges, and drama of the breeding birds.

American Robin with two fledglings
As an example, let’s begin with a few dry facts about the American Robin.  The male and female build a cup nest from scratch. Typically four eggs are laid and are incubated by the female for two weeks. The young are fed in the nest for two weeks and are then fed by both parents as fledglings. A pair of robins will raise two or three broods each year.

Now consider: if every egg hatches and every hatchling fledges and every fledgling survives, this would mean that a single pair of robins would add eight to twelve new robins to the robin population in a single year. If all robins were similarly successful, the robin population would increase on average five times in one breeding season. Clearly, we would soon be overrun with robins.

Rose-breasted Grosbeak fledgling flutters and calls for food
But that degree of nesting success rarely occurs. The eggs and the nestlings of birds are threatened by many predators: weasels, raccoons, red squirrels, snakes, jays, crows, hawks, and owls (to name just a few). And don’t forget your house cat among the predators. Birds are hosts to many parasites; bird-lice, fleas, louse flies, ticks, and mites all dine on the birds and their young. Storms can damage nests. If the nest has been built anywhere near humans, deliberate or inadvertent disturbance may occur. Once the young are out of the nest, the dangers increase. Young birds are squawking and fluttering to attract the attention of their parents so that they can be fed, but this may also attract the attention of all of those nest predators and more.

Food supplies effect the ability of birds to successfully raise young. A few years ago, cuckoos were common in our area, in conjunction with a variety of caterpillars chewing up the leaves of the trees. Several years ago, our yards were overrun with chipmunks. That same summer, Barred Owls had remarkable success in raising their young. But then came the winter when the food disappeared beneath the snow pack and the young owls were unable to feed themselves. A few were found and taken to wildlife rehabilitation centers; the others perished. This summer has been another banner year for chipmunks, and probably for owls and hawks as well. What will happen to those young if the coming winter is typically harsh?

The likelihood that a nesting pair of birds will successfully hatch and raise a full clutch is quite low: an egg may not hatch, a nestling may be out-competed for food by its nest mates, a fledgling may be too quiet or too weak to attract a parent with food or simply get too far away from its parents. Cornell Lab or Ornithology has citizen scientists doing nest box studies. For the Eastern Bluebird, for example, nesting success is about 72%; this is the percentage of nests that produce at least one fledgling.

Tufted Titmouse juvenile
When I see young birds being fed around my feeders or in the trees around my home, I am seeing young that have already beaten many odds, but who still have many long odds still to overcome. In mid-July, I was entertained by a pair Evening Grosbeaks. One was the mother; the other  a youngster. He was constantly calling for her. When she fed him and flew off, he followed her noisily. Eventually, he followed her to the bird feeder, where she ate and occasionally fed him. Bit by bit, he got the idea that he could get food on his own, although he gave up mom’s service only reluctantly.

The next day, the young grosbeak was at the feeder by himself and feeding himself, endlessly scarfing down seed and even chasing off other, sometimes larger, birds. But he had no sense of fear. I approached to within three feet and felt as though I could have picked him up, he was so tame - or perhaps, clueless. Instead, I clapped my hands and shouted. This finally induced him to fly off. Young Downy Woodpeckers on the suet feeder also show a cluelessness to danger, so I’ve taken to chasing them off as well in an attempt to teach a bit of wariness.

They need wariness, as the pile of dove feathers on the back lawn one morning testified. Probably a young Mourning Dove roosted on the tree branch too long, and became a meal for a hawk or owl. But in doing so, that dove fulfilled its life purpose; it became a part of the food chain.

Therein is a truth that is an unpleasant one for many people. We look on the birds at our feeders as entertainment, cute bundles of energy and activity. We give them human attributes. The titmice are sweet, the chickadees acrobatic, and the nuthatches comic. The crows are noisy and the jays are greedy bullies. But they are all “our” birds.

Blue Jay juvenile
Watch all of them more closely. Once the young are cut free from parental dependence, the birds may occasionally cooperate in alerting others to danger, as when a hawk is perched in a nearby tree. They may travel in flocks, communicating with one another about  food sources, and benefitting from safety in numbers. But they are also competing with one another for food, regardless of how full the feeders may be or how laden with fruit the bushes are. One bird chases off another bird - its own kind and other kinds - as though the food supply might suddenly run out.

The life expectancy of small birds is not long. Occasionally a song bird may live 5 to 10 years. The host of dangers and challenges facing small birds probably means that few ever “die of old age,” though old age may eventually weaken them or slow them so that they succumb to one of the dangers or challenges. Some studies suggest that only 20% of the birds which are successfully raised during a breeding season survive to the second year, while 80% of the adults survive to the following year. Clearly, mortality among small birds is very high.

Early this month, I was entertained by a young Chipping Sparrow which begged from a Song Sparrow, then begged from another young Chipping Sparrow, and eventually was fed by a parent. I am amused by the demanding calls of the young Blue Jays; they seem like the noisiest, most obnoxious juveniles imaginable. I am taken by the simple naivete of the young birds and wish them well even as I try to teach them a few lessons about getting on in the world.

Male Downy Woodpecker feeds his fledgling son
But then I consider the realities behind my entertainment. The cycles of nature are not there for my amusement. They are serious business for the life involved. I may occasionally cite dry facts about common breeding birds, but those dry facts point to the larger challenge which each species and its individuals face in the cycle of life.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Butterfly Garden - 3

A few more August visitors to the butterfly garden in our backyard ...
Painted Lady
Painted Lady
Wild Indigo Duskywing
Wild Indigo Duskywing
Atlantis Fritillary
Monarch

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Summer Sun - Birds and Bees ...

... words seem superfluous ...

Ruby-throated Hummingbird
Ruby-throated Hummingbird
Bumblebee on Sunflower
Honeybee on Sunflower

Sunday, August 19, 2012

More Butterfly Garden

From the Kaufman Guide on Butterflies" "the first sighting of [a Giant Swallowtail] never fails to dazzle the observer."

That was certainly the case when this Giant Swallowtail (uncommon in southern Vermont) appeared in the garden ...

Giant Swallowtail
Giant Swallowtail
Near the other end of the size scale, the garden has attracted Clouded Sulphur, Pearl Crescent, Common Wood-Nymph, and Common Ringlet. 

(Parenthetically, butterflies are still quite new to me, so some IDs are tentative. Please help out with misidentifications or tentative IDs.)

Clouded Sulphur
Clouded Sulphur
Pearl Crescent
Common Wood-Nymph - (?)
Common Ringlet

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Butterfly Garden

Kudos to my spouse! - the chaos of our yard after last year's storm has been transformed into a marvelous butterfly garden. Here's a sampling ...

Monarch
Black Swallowtail

Eastern Tailed-Blue
Tiger Swallowtail

White Admiral
American Lady
Silver-spotted Skipper


Sunday, August 12, 2012

Spotty

The river behind my home was scoured by last year's storm Irene, but the recovery of life continues apace. Two Spotted Sandpipers (young birds I think) foraged in the fast moving water, providing yet more evidence of how quickly life can reclaim its place.


 
Good Birding!!

Wednesday, August 08, 2012

Evening Grosbeak - 2nd brood ?

The literature on the Evening Grosbeak is of mixed or uncertain opinion as to whether they raise more than one brood during a breeding season.

I had my first fledgling being fed on June 9. The peak of the fledglings was late June to mid-July. The young were still apparent after mid-July, but feeding on their own.

Then on August 6, this youngster appeared in the yard, with a clearly perplexed attitude. It pecked around on the platform feeder, then with a slight wing flutter, was fed by its mother ...

Evening Grosbeak - fledgling

Fledgling in foreground - "Is there something here that mom is eating?"

"Yea, mom! Thanks!"
It is strictly circumstantial, but the late timing of this fledgling suggests that it is from a second brood.

... And ... the sunflower feeders continue to enjoy the real thing. Juvenile American Goldfinches are hard to ID, but it looked like an adult male was "keeping watch" or "standing guard" while a juvenile fed ...

American Goldfinch on sunflower


Good Birding!!

Friday, August 03, 2012

Sunflower Feeder

Sunflower seeds are scattered from the bird feeders. Some manage to germinate. This summer a few of these freelancers have prospered adding sunny color to the garden and a new source of food for birds.

When I first saw the American Goldfinch feeding on the sunflower, this sunflower still had most of its petals. The yellow goldfinch was almost "invisible" on the yellow sunflower. Even now, nearby blossoms provide a camouflage background.




Good birding!!

Saturday, July 28, 2012

The Welcome Presence of the Evening Grosbeak

When we lived in Pennsylvania, some winters our yard was visited by thieves who descended upon the bird feeders in a flock of ten to twenty birds, cleaned the seed from the feeders, then flew on. The attack was repeated every two or three weeks, until Spring finally returned. Then they would be gone, not to be seen again for another two or three years.

Evening Grosbeaks were irruptive winter birds in my previous home. In spite of the spike they created in the bird seed bill, they were welcome visitors. The male’s gaudy plumage, dominated by bright yellow, was a spark of color against the gray-brown winter landscape.  The sudden appearance and equally sudden disappearance of the nomadic flock - the enthusiasm of their voracious appetites - the energy with which the flock seemed to do everything - all helped to chase the winter doldrums.


Evening Grosbeaks also empty the feeders in my Vermont yard, but they do not disappear. They stay in the neighborhood, and as soon as I refill the feeders, they are back, cracking one sunflower seed after another with their massive bills and sending my seed bill soaring.

Evening Grosbeaks in January
As common as the Evening Grosbeak is in my yard, for many birdwatchers it is a rare, sought after species. Last year a young birder who reads my blog emailed me; he was going to be in southern Vermont for a weekend. Could he come by to see the grosbeaks? Unfortunately, that Spring weekend was the one weekend when the grosbeaks decided to go elsewhere. As soon as he was safely back in New Jersey, the grosbeaks were back in my trees.

When the European colonists were settling the Atlantic coast, the Evening Grosbeak was not present. It was primarily a bird of the western mountains, Northwest, although one of the earliest specimens was collected at Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan.

When first discovered, the Evening Grosbeak was observed to sing in the evening - hence its name. This observation was incorporated in both its common name and its scientific name.

Scientifically, the Evening Grosbeak has been named (until recently) Hesperiphona  vesperina. Hesperiphona refers to the Hesperides, the “Daughters of the Night,” who dwell on the western edge of the world where the sun sets. The Evening Grosbeak was first observed in the far west where the sun sets. Or perhaps more precisely, as one source suggests, the name comes from the Greek hesperios, “at evening,” and phona,”voice” - hence “evening voice.”

With scientific redundancy, the species name is vesperina, from the Latin meaning “belonging to the evening.”

Male cracks seeds and feeds a fledgling.
Scientists have recently reclassified the Evening Grosbeak. It is now Coccothrautus  vesperina. It shares its Genus with the Hawfinch of Europe and the Hooded Grosbeak of South America. Coccothraustes is from the Greek to “shatter,” a reference to crushing fruit pits. But it is still “vesperina” - the bird that sings in the evening.

The name is poetic, but untrue. The Evening Grosbeak sings any time of the morning, afternoon, or evening. The song is sometimes described as a loud “peeyr” with a ringing quality, but that is a generous description. The Evening Grosbeak is not much of a songster.

Historically, the Evening Grosbeak was a western species. Until the late 1800s, the bird was rarely seen east of the Mississippi.  Eastern expansion is commonly attributed to the  widespread planting of box elder trees in prairie windbreaks and as an ornamental tree in northeastern cities.  Seeds of the box elder persist on the tree through winter, which allowed erratic winter flocks from the west to overwinter (Forbush 1929). Some overwintering birds remained to nest, leading to the expansion of its breeding range. The first recorded nesting in Vermont was in 1926.

The large, powerful beak accounts for the folk name, "English Parrot."

The Evening Grosbeak is a bright and conspicuous bird. Such bright colors are usually associated with tropical birds such as the Baltimore Oriole, Scarlet Tanager, or Rose-breasted Grosbeak. Parrots are almost entirely tropical or sub-tropical birds; the Evening Grosbeak has sometimes been called the English Parrot, on account of its plumage, big beak, and occasional feeding habits. However, the Evening Grosbeak is anything but a tropical bird. It is a bird of northern and western forests. Its range straddles the U.S.-Canadian border. How then does it come to be so colorful?

The answer is found in the Evening Grosbeak’s original homeland in the Northwest. Arthur Bent in his 1968 life history of the western Evening Grosbeak writes that it  “is largely a bird of the higher altitudes whose plumage is a blending, a chiaroscuro, of the high-lights and shadows of the great hills.” He cites Enid Michael who wrote from Yosemite in 1926: “The Evening Grosbeak ... furnishes a splendid example of protective coloring in birds. It is brilliantly colored white, yellow, black and olive. It would seem to be one of the most conspicuous of high Sierran birds. Yet its brightest color is almost identical with the lemon color of the lichens found throughout our high Sierra.”

Evening Grosbeak, female
Another writer in 1902 wrote: “While watching the birds on Mt. Shasta one day, I was struck by the conspicuousness of one that flew across an open space. As it lit on a dead stub whose silvery branches were touched with yellow lichen, to my amazement it simply vanished. Its peculiar greenish yellow toned in perfectly with the greenish yellow of the lichen.”

These accounts remind me that when driving our dirt roads in the summer time, I have seen the gravely road in front of me suddenly burst into flight. Evening Grosbeaks, picking up grit and salt, blended into the roadway until my vehicle came to close. Then at the last moment, they flew.

The Evening Grosbeak is a big, stocky finch with a bearing that makes me think of a pugnacious street fighter. But appearances are deceiving. When food is plentiful, most observers use adjectives like quiet, sedentary, gentle, and unafraid. When unmolested, they can become almost tame. They approach backyard feeders from a high perch, where they check things out before coming in to share freely with others birds.

Courtship display by male Evening Grosbeak
As conspicuous as the Evening Grosbeak is when present, comparatively little is known about its life history. During the breeding season, it is secretive. It prefers mature, open-canopy mixed forests. It builds a flimsy nest high in a tree, a practice which makes it very difficult to study.    So ... when I spend a sultry summer day sitting on my back porch, I am not just idling away my time when its too hot to do anything else. I am doing research. I am observing the Evening Grosbeaks.

Good birding!

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