Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday Season to all!
May these days fill your hearts with joy and may your birdfeeder always be busy!
Friday, December 26, 2008
A Holiday Wish...
Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday Season to all!
May these days fill your hearts with joy and may your birdfeeder always be busy!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Summer Colours--08/29/08
The backyard is abuzz with a steady hum of activity: Ruby-throated hummingbirds feast on the blossoms of bee-balm and hostas as they come to the end of their season, rose-breasted grosbeaks and sunshine yellow goldfinches bob around the tube feeders and noisy swallows swoop through the sky. This is without a doubt one of my favourite times of the year in Vermont. No matter where you look, you can always be sure that a surprise will await you!
The flock of cedar waxwings was back again, gorging on the plentiful berries in the bushes, the air buzzing with their customary high-pitched zee. On a walk, I also saw a great many of the birds around the Dorset pond, skimming the water between meals. Later that same day, I was also pleased to see two proud eastern phoebe parents anxiously guarding their nest and taking turns on investigating the garden, tails bobbing all the way.
For several days in a row, now, I have had the pleasure of seeing my elusive Baltimore oriole friends darting through the garden. The birds, which have always seemed to purposely avoid me, now appear erratically but often near the giant weeping willows in the field behind my house, where they seem to have taken up residency. Sometimes I glimpse them as they hop around my tomato plants, one of their favourite spots in the garden. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll see a family of the orange beauties before the summer is through!
On another note, on the request of many of my readers, I am pleased to announce that I now have a new and functional website for this column. In addition to my articles here in The Manchester Journal, I will be posting birding tips and tricks, special sightings, general musings, and photographs of birds and flowers from my garden. You are also encouraged to leave comments, questions, and birding tips of your own. Please help me get this off of the ground and make sure to check out my site at www.watchthebirdsvermont.blogspot.com!
Of course, you are still welcome to send me questions and comments regarding this column of any sightings you have seen at chickadee@att.net. Happy birding and enjoy the fine summer weather!
The flock of cedar waxwings was back again, gorging on the plentiful berries in the bushes, the air buzzing with their customary high-pitched zee. On a walk, I also saw a great many of the birds around the Dorset pond, skimming the water between meals. Later that same day, I was also pleased to see two proud eastern phoebe parents anxiously guarding their nest and taking turns on investigating the garden, tails bobbing all the way.
For several days in a row, now, I have had the pleasure of seeing my elusive Baltimore oriole friends darting through the garden. The birds, which have always seemed to purposely avoid me, now appear erratically but often near the giant weeping willows in the field behind my house, where they seem to have taken up residency. Sometimes I glimpse them as they hop around my tomato plants, one of their favourite spots in the garden. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll see a family of the orange beauties before the summer is through!
On another note, on the request of many of my readers, I am pleased to announce that I now have a new and functional website for this column. In addition to my articles here in The Manchester Journal, I will be posting birding tips and tricks, special sightings, general musings, and photographs of birds and flowers from my garden. You are also encouraged to leave comments, questions, and birding tips of your own. Please help me get this off of the ground and make sure to check out my site at www.watchthebirdsvermont.blogspot.com!
Of course, you are still welcome to send me questions and comments regarding this column of any sightings you have seen at chickadee@att.net. Happy birding and enjoy the fine summer weather!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
There's the tiniest smell of autumn in the air...
In the weeks before I head back to school, I find myself searching for signs that it's still summer time. My results? Well, yes, it is still summer in Vermont, but autumn seems to be creeping us on us earlier than usual with the cooler temperatures, smell of smoke from bonfires, and the withering of favourite summer blossoms.
One of the biggest hints that autumn is just around the corner is the sudden and drastic increase in hummingbird activity. I usually only see one or two hummers a few time a day. In the past few days, however, I've seen eight or nine of the flying jewels at once, all anxiously vying for the same spot at the hummingbird feeders. Yesterday evening, I was caught right in the middle of a 21-gun salute flyover--buzzed by two hummers on each side of my head for a split second. Hit the Deck!
To help your hummer friends, make sure to keep your feeders full and clean. It's also a good idea to slightly increase the amount of sugar in the solution with which you fill your feeders. That way, the hummers, in need of fat and energy for their long journey to Mexico, can get the calories they need.
One of the biggest hints that autumn is just around the corner is the sudden and drastic increase in hummingbird activity. I usually only see one or two hummers a few time a day. In the past few days, however, I've seen eight or nine of the flying jewels at once, all anxiously vying for the same spot at the hummingbird feeders. Yesterday evening, I was caught right in the middle of a 21-gun salute flyover--buzzed by two hummers on each side of my head for a split second. Hit the Deck!
To help your hummer friends, make sure to keep your feeders full and clean. It's also a good idea to slightly increase the amount of sugar in the solution with which you fill your feeders. That way, the hummers, in need of fat and energy for their long journey to Mexico, can get the calories they need.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Holland Bound--07/25/08
THE HAGUE—The capital city of the Netherlands (a.k.a. Holland) just off the coast of the North Sea has long been known as a centre of world justice. The small city in one of the smallest but proudest European countries boasts the third largest headquarters of the United Nations behind New York and Geneva. The Peace Palace hosts the World Court, while the International Tribunal on Yugoslavia has brought justice to war criminals including the infamous Slobodan Milosevic. Certainly The Hague is internationally important. But little did I know that the tiny city on the sea is also home for many interesting species of birds.
In addition to the numerous green expanses and overgrown parks for birds to call home, birdwatchers have the extra bonus of the proximity of the North Sea and the many canals that criss-cross the city, attracting sea- and fresh-water birds alike. The tram is not only one of the best ways to navigate the city, but is also a great way to see the dozens of Gray Herons which wade through and fish in the canals. These herons, used to the clatter of the trams and the passage of bicycles, barely bat an eye if you approach and watch them, unlike their Vermont cousins. Storks and herons are especially beloved to the people of the Hague, considering that it is not only the symbol of the city, but a bearer of good luck and glad tidings.
Walking along the dyke that abuts the Dutch parliament and the Mauritshuis Museum, where one can see Johannes Vermeer’s best known masterpieces, The View of Delft and Girl with a Pearl Earring, I saw a variety of water birds taking advantage of the summer sun. There were majestic Mute Swans swimming alongside Mallard Ducks as some Common Coots showed their little ones how to dive for food. All over the city, as you walk under the tree-covered passages, you can see Magpies (remember, “One sorrow, two mirth,” etc.) and tons of raucous European mini-crows, more professionally called Eurasian Jackdaws.
Walking along the dyke that abuts the Dutch parliament and the Mauritshuis Museum, where one can see Johannes Vermeer’s best known masterpieces, The View of Delft and Girl with a Pearl Earring, I saw a variety of water birds taking advantage of the summer sun. There were majestic Mute Swans swimming alongside Mallard Ducks as some Common Coots showed their little ones how to dive for food. All over the city, as you walk under the tree-covered passages, you can see Magpies (remember, “One sorrow, two mirth,” etc.) and tons of raucous European mini-crows, more professionally called Eurasian Jackdaws.
Because of the city’s nearness to the sea and the perennially-popular beach district of Scheveningen, there are also many gulls all over The Hague. The most common is the large and boisterous Herring Gull, which takes advantage of the excellent fish and, specifically, herring supply in the Netherlands.
If you venture further afield into the charming Dutch countryside, composed mainly of farms and sweeping fields of flowers and bulbs you can also expect to see a variety of birds. Little clusters of Canada Geese minding their babies mix with small flocks of white geese and Common Shelducks. Look closely and you might even see a lone Eurasian Spoonbill fishing in the canals, or at least a couple of windmills!
All in all, I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of birdlife I saw whilst touring The Hague and her surrounding cities. So the next time you happen to be swinging up by the Netherlands, admittedly world-renowned for less-wholesome hobbies than bird-watching, remember to bring your binoculars and a European field guide. You never know what you might see along the canals of Holland!
Have any birding questions or queries? If so send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net!
Sunday, July 20, 2008
A Break from Birdwatching...
"To sit in the shade on a fine day, and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment." --Jane Austen, Mansfield Park
Even when the long, lazy days of Vermont summer seem to drag and when birds are more scarce than I can hope, I can always find repose and a paint-box of colours in my flower garden.
* * *
Even when the long, lazy days of Vermont summer seem to drag and when birds are more scarce than I can hope, I can always find repose and a paint-box of colours in my flower garden.
After years of careful planning, ripping out, and redoing, the garden is finally starting to take shape. These photos are from my newest flower bed, which has also given me the most trouble. When I thought I had gotten it right, I relalised that my work had in fact just begun. Now, however, I am happy to say that I am pleased with the course this patch is taking.
One of the new varieties in my garden: the Himalayan Cinquefoil.
A sprig of coral bells after an afternoon shower.
* * *
Saturday, June 21, 2008
The Birds and the Bears--06/27/08
Within the last week, there has been a surge of bird activity here in my back yard. The regulars are here in full force, as well as a few special visitors who call Vermont home during the summer months. In addition to the flocks of goldfinches, raucous red-winged blackbirds, and cardinals, I have also seen an increase in the number of white-breasted nuthatches, house wrens, and feisty hummingbirds.
To my surprise and delight, I have also seen the elusive Baltimore Orioles darting between the willows in the field. Regular readers of this column will remember my somewhat irrational obsession with orioles, who always make a few select appearances throughout the summer for about a nanosecond and then disappear until the time when I least expect it. I guess I’ll have to keep my eyes and ears open. Hopefully, with a little bit of luck, the orioles might finally decide to investigate my oriole feeders.
Also, for a truly special sighting, make sure to bring your binoculars and take a closer look at the marshes along the road about two miles from the Arlington exit, the next time you drive down to Bennington. Precariously perched atop the spindly branches of the skeletons of trees, you can see the nests of Great Blue Herons. Now, if you look closely, you can even see the herons and their newly-hatched babies in the nests. If you have time, pull over to the side of the road, from where you can hear the caterwauling of the hungry babies.
The birds are not the only ones who have been busy over the past few weeks, however. After my last column, I received a few more reports regarding bears in the area. For example, Kevin of Dorset informed me that many birdfeeders in his area, including his own, had been attacked by hungry bears. Many people told me that they will probably not be hanging their feeders out for the rest of the summer. In my opinion, however, it is probably safe to leave your feeders out without fear of them being whacked. With the start of summer, the bears have a steady food source, which means that they will not have to resort to munching on your birdfeeders. Birders in the valley should be bear free by now. Readers on the mountain might still exercise caution by taking feeders in at night.
Seen any interesting birds lately? Do you have any questions or comments? If so, feel free to send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net and share your sightings with other birders!
Stop, Look, and Listen!--06/11/08
I think that it is finally safe to say that summer has come to Vermont; and with rising temperatures comes a rise in bird activity, as well. The sudden and drastic rise in temperature, however, seems to have put the birds in hiding. Indeed, when the sun is at its peak, I hardly see any of my feathered friends outside. Here’s the catch: I may not see any birds for most of the day, but I can hear them. That factor made me think about the importance of the recognition of bird calls for any avian enthusiast.
As a budding bird-watcher of eight or nine, I specifically remember asking myself how I was ever to recognize any bird calls at all, let alone a multitude of them. Now, I can probably identify about fifty or sixty (after nine years’ work). A big boost for my birding ear came along with the handy and extremely useful Birdsong Identiflyer, a mini-computer with insert-able themed cards, each with sound bites of various bird songs. This clever device was very useful when it came to learning and recognizing odd bird calls. Of course, now the ubiquitous iPod has a downloadable program which makes thousands of bird calls available at your fingertips—an astonishing wealth of information!
Naturally, the best way to learn bird calls, though, is by stopping, looking, and listening. Though I fear sounding reminiscent of some kind of hackneyed street-crossing caveat, it’s true. The best way to associate birds with their various sounds is by keen sensory perception of the birds around you.
Today, at the peak of the afternoon heat, I was sitting on the porch when I heard an incessant zeeeee coming from the pine trees in the backyard. I didn’t see anything, but the sound rang a bell. Soon after, I realized that there was a flock of beautiful Cedar Waxwings flitting through the branches of the tree, nibbling on the fresh pine buds.
Later, I was doing some gardening when I heard a faint buzzing from over my shoulder. Sure enough, the feisty little hummingbird that frequents the bleeding hearts around the porch was there for a bite. He stayed for a few minutes before investigating the nectar possibilities of a rather startled cardinal on the bird feeder and then, making a speedy getaway.
Then, I heard a strange and vaguely familiar call from the bushes. Sure enough, I spotted the distinctive brilliant blue on one of my favourite summer visitors: the Indigo Bunting. The indigo buntings never stay for very long, and I usually only see them a few times each summer, so I was, needless to say, very pleased.
As I have learned, the ability to recognize bird-calls is a very central part of the birding experience. I must admit, I had never really thought about it before today’s hot and sticky weather made me pay a little closer attention to the sights and sounds around me. I stopped, I looked, I listened, and I had some great and unexpected sightings.
Have you noticed anything interesting in your backyard as of late? Do you have any comments or critiques on this column? If so, feel free to send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net and I will be more than happy to respond.
As a budding bird-watcher of eight or nine, I specifically remember asking myself how I was ever to recognize any bird calls at all, let alone a multitude of them. Now, I can probably identify about fifty or sixty (after nine years’ work). A big boost for my birding ear came along with the handy and extremely useful Birdsong Identiflyer, a mini-computer with insert-able themed cards, each with sound bites of various bird songs. This clever device was very useful when it came to learning and recognizing odd bird calls. Of course, now the ubiquitous iPod has a downloadable program which makes thousands of bird calls available at your fingertips—an astonishing wealth of information!
Naturally, the best way to learn bird calls, though, is by stopping, looking, and listening. Though I fear sounding reminiscent of some kind of hackneyed street-crossing caveat, it’s true. The best way to associate birds with their various sounds is by keen sensory perception of the birds around you.
Today, at the peak of the afternoon heat, I was sitting on the porch when I heard an incessant zeeeee coming from the pine trees in the backyard. I didn’t see anything, but the sound rang a bell. Soon after, I realized that there was a flock of beautiful Cedar Waxwings flitting through the branches of the tree, nibbling on the fresh pine buds.
Later, I was doing some gardening when I heard a faint buzzing from over my shoulder. Sure enough, the feisty little hummingbird that frequents the bleeding hearts around the porch was there for a bite. He stayed for a few minutes before investigating the nectar possibilities of a rather startled cardinal on the bird feeder and then, making a speedy getaway.
Then, I heard a strange and vaguely familiar call from the bushes. Sure enough, I spotted the distinctive brilliant blue on one of my favourite summer visitors: the Indigo Bunting. The indigo buntings never stay for very long, and I usually only see them a few times each summer, so I was, needless to say, very pleased.
As I have learned, the ability to recognize bird-calls is a very central part of the birding experience. I must admit, I had never really thought about it before today’s hot and sticky weather made me pay a little closer attention to the sights and sounds around me. I stopped, I looked, I listened, and I had some great and unexpected sightings.
Have you noticed anything interesting in your backyard as of late? Do you have any comments or critiques on this column? If so, feel free to send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net and I will be more than happy to respond.
Awake and Sing!--05/22/08
After a chilly and somewhat uneventful spring, the birds have returned in full force for the start of the birding season. Not to mention, the lush and sudden profusion of greenery makes me feel almost as if I’ve entered some kind of mini-tropical climate. Vermont is alive with the sounds and smells of late Spring.
Birds and plants aren’t the only things that are awakening, however. Indeed, I had a surprise one morning when I looked out the window to find my tube feeders ravaged by a hungry bear. While our friends in the mountains are always in close proximity to the wilder side of Vermont, we in the valley, though we certainly have our fair share of wild woodland visitors, still get frazzled by such a sight. Of course, with the advent of spring, hibernating critters, from round-cheeked chipmunks to the proverbial hungry bear, are out looking for a meal. I got another report of a similar nature from John in Dorset. The fate of my feeders? One feeder was relatively unharmed, while the other was beyond repair. The mounting pole for the feeders was bent like a paper clip. (So much for the squirrel baffle...) Anyway, after some bending and hammering and the purchase of a new feeder, the backyard hotspot is back open for business—and just in time!
Recently I’ve seen a paint-palate of colours at the feeder, from the butter yellow of the goldfinches and the indigo of the blue jays to the scarlet of the cardinals and heather grey of the chickadees. The yard is awhirl with activity and many of my favourite summer guests have made an appearance. While I was doing some garden work, I was pleased to hear a reproachful “meow” from a Grey Catbird, who eventually came to check up on my progress before fluttering off. The Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks have also returned, as well as the Tree Swallows.
And guess what? The bear returned, and whacked my feeders yet again. I have temporarily brought them inside the garage.
I am also pleased to report that I had my first hummingbird sighting a few days ago. A little male, clad in iridescent green and red, spent about ten minutes visiting each flower on my newly-blooming bleeding hearts. The little fellow, after emitting a few squeaks, darted back to the thicket the hummers call home every summer after taking his fill and even sitting upon a few of the delicate stalks to take a break between sips.
I just hope that the weather continues to improve. Indeed, after that awful rainy spell last week, that turned into a surprise snow dusting on Mother Myrick mountain (in May? Remember, kids, this is Vermont!). I even had reports of some slate-coloured juncos—more commonly known as “Snow Birds”—in the area. Let’s just hope that they don’t live up to their name or reputation of signalling a snowfall.
Have you seen anything interesting in your backyard lately? Did you see something that surprised you on a walk? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net and share your sighting. Happy Birding!
Birds and plants aren’t the only things that are awakening, however. Indeed, I had a surprise one morning when I looked out the window to find my tube feeders ravaged by a hungry bear. While our friends in the mountains are always in close proximity to the wilder side of Vermont, we in the valley, though we certainly have our fair share of wild woodland visitors, still get frazzled by such a sight. Of course, with the advent of spring, hibernating critters, from round-cheeked chipmunks to the proverbial hungry bear, are out looking for a meal. I got another report of a similar nature from John in Dorset. The fate of my feeders? One feeder was relatively unharmed, while the other was beyond repair. The mounting pole for the feeders was bent like a paper clip. (So much for the squirrel baffle...) Anyway, after some bending and hammering and the purchase of a new feeder, the backyard hotspot is back open for business—and just in time!
Recently I’ve seen a paint-palate of colours at the feeder, from the butter yellow of the goldfinches and the indigo of the blue jays to the scarlet of the cardinals and heather grey of the chickadees. The yard is awhirl with activity and many of my favourite summer guests have made an appearance. While I was doing some garden work, I was pleased to hear a reproachful “meow” from a Grey Catbird, who eventually came to check up on my progress before fluttering off. The Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks have also returned, as well as the Tree Swallows.
And guess what? The bear returned, and whacked my feeders yet again. I have temporarily brought them inside the garage.
I am also pleased to report that I had my first hummingbird sighting a few days ago. A little male, clad in iridescent green and red, spent about ten minutes visiting each flower on my newly-blooming bleeding hearts. The little fellow, after emitting a few squeaks, darted back to the thicket the hummers call home every summer after taking his fill and even sitting upon a few of the delicate stalks to take a break between sips.
I just hope that the weather continues to improve. Indeed, after that awful rainy spell last week, that turned into a surprise snow dusting on Mother Myrick mountain (in May? Remember, kids, this is Vermont!). I even had reports of some slate-coloured juncos—more commonly known as “Snow Birds”—in the area. Let’s just hope that they don’t live up to their name or reputation of signalling a snowfall.
Have you seen anything interesting in your backyard lately? Did you see something that surprised you on a walk? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net and share your sighting. Happy Birding!
Our Canadian Cousins--01/11/08
This being the end of the holiday season, many of us have probably already said our goodbyes to relatives whom we welcomed into our homes over the holidays. Aunt Fanny has gone back to Florida, Uncle Jim is off on another business trip, and the in-laws are far away. However, just when we last expected it, we have to prepare to welcome our Canadian cousins. Well, not our cousins—the birds’ cousins, down from the North.
Over the past few weeks, and in recent days here in the Northshire area, there has been an increasing and unusual surge in birds coming down from Canada. Case in point: I saw a small flock of Hoary and Common Redpolls, both uncommon south of the Canadian border just yesterday feasting on some newly-scattered sunflower seeds. These fluffy little birds closely resemble sparrows, except they sport deep red patches on their foreheads. So, the next time you think you see a bunch of sparrows, take a closer look; it might be a group of redpolls.
Redpolls are not the only ones coming down to Southern Vermont. According to an article in The Keene Sentinel from Western New Hampshire, record numbers of pine grosbeaks, snow buntings, and redpolls were counted in the annual Christmas bird count. This phenomenon, commonly called irruption, results from an increasing number of birds fly south to find reliable food sources. With the bitterly cold temperatures and abnormally high amounts of snowfall in Canada this year, many of our Canadian cousins have clearly decided to spend their winter vacation in more temperate climates.
In addition, during our brief thaw last week, I was pleasantly surprised to spot a Great Blue Heron wading through the rather chilly waters of the Dorset Pond. I had certainly never seen a blue heron after autumn here in Vermont, and sure enough, upon checking my field guide, I affirmed that herons do indeed migrate. While I have no explanation for this sighting, I suppose the heron was a straggler who decided to do a little ice fishing instead of traveling to warmer regions.
Have you had any interesting sightings to start the New Year right? If so, I’d love to hear all about them, as well as any comments or questions you might have. Make sure to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net Happy birding!
Over the past few weeks, and in recent days here in the Northshire area, there has been an increasing and unusual surge in birds coming down from Canada. Case in point: I saw a small flock of Hoary and Common Redpolls, both uncommon south of the Canadian border just yesterday feasting on some newly-scattered sunflower seeds. These fluffy little birds closely resemble sparrows, except they sport deep red patches on their foreheads. So, the next time you think you see a bunch of sparrows, take a closer look; it might be a group of redpolls.
Redpolls are not the only ones coming down to Southern Vermont. According to an article in The Keene Sentinel from Western New Hampshire, record numbers of pine grosbeaks, snow buntings, and redpolls were counted in the annual Christmas bird count. This phenomenon, commonly called irruption, results from an increasing number of birds fly south to find reliable food sources. With the bitterly cold temperatures and abnormally high amounts of snowfall in Canada this year, many of our Canadian cousins have clearly decided to spend their winter vacation in more temperate climates.
In addition, during our brief thaw last week, I was pleasantly surprised to spot a Great Blue Heron wading through the rather chilly waters of the Dorset Pond. I had certainly never seen a blue heron after autumn here in Vermont, and sure enough, upon checking my field guide, I affirmed that herons do indeed migrate. While I have no explanation for this sighting, I suppose the heron was a straggler who decided to do a little ice fishing instead of traveling to warmer regions.
Have you had any interesting sightings to start the New Year right? If so, I’d love to hear all about them, as well as any comments or questions you might have. Make sure to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net Happy birding!
Wishing You a Hooty New Year!--01/02/08
Happy New Year to all! Along with the arrival of the New Year came a bundle of fun surprises: skiers and resort owners clapped their hands in glee with the advent of nearly a foot of beautiful powder, thousands of international visitors stood it out in Times Square to watch the 100th crystal ball drop and signal midnight, and I was pleased to have a few very special bird sightings.
Naturally with all the beautiful snow we have had, there has been a spike in bird activity as our feathered friends search for food. Watching the snow fall from the warmth of the living room, I was pleased to see a smattering of slate-colored juncos, hopping through the newly-fallen powder and trying to avoid sinking into the fluff. The regulars have been making their rounds as well; the cardinal family usually stops by at least once a day, as well as the chickadees, titmice, and nuthatches. The backyard is just like a picture-postcard, with birds darting between the snow-covered fir trees and hopping through the powder.
In addition to the regulars, however, on Christmas Eve my family and I were overjoyed to see a less common winter visitor—a fluffy Barred Owl perched in one of the willow trees in the backyard. Just as twilight began to creep over the mountain, I glimpsed the beautiful bird landing for a rest before it flew off into the woods a few minutes later. What luck to have been looking out the window just in time to see such a magnificent creature! This of course, is the beginning of mating season for most of our Vermont species of owls. Therefore, they will be more vocal and more visible for the next few weeks, which is great for birdwatchers who are willing to withstand the cold and seek them out.
For some post-eggnog fun, bundle up and walk near the woods at night and try your hand at some owl calls. The best time to do this is when the weather is clear and the temperature is in the thirties. Making owl calls at this time of year is a great way to attract and see various owls, who will investigate the call. Who knows, you might get lucky and see a few nocturnal beauties or at least get a hooty reply!
Lastly, on the way back from my cousin’s wedding in New Brunswick, Canada, we were making our way through Maine when I spotted an impressive wingspan in the sky ahead of the car. Operating on a hunch, I looked carefully at the bird and was delighted to see the telltale white head of none other than a majestic Bald Eagle, soaring over the frozen landscape! Later on, we spotted another perched in a tall pine at the side of the road. While I have heard of people spotting Bald Eagles in the Dorset-Manchester area, I, myself, have never been fortunate enough to see one in the wild. What a great way to end the 2007 birding year.
What was your most special sighting of 2007? Have you had any interesting sightings to start the New Year right? If so, I’d love to hear all about them, as well as any comments or questions you might have. Make sure to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net. Happy (and warm) birding!
A Backyard Surprise--10/08/07
A few days ago, Anne-Marie from Dorset sent me an e-mail regarding a mystery bird she had seen in her backyard. While sitting on the back porch, Anne-Marie saw a peculiar bird hopping across the lawn. At first glance, she thought it was one of the flickers that sometimes look for ants on the lawn. But, upon closer inspection, she realized that it was not a bird she recognized.
“It was about the size of a small flicker, and had a brownish body with a few red patches and a crown. The beak looked entirely orange. In fact, as my husband Jim accurately put it, it looked like it was wearing too much lipstick.” The bird stayed in her yard for a few more days until it vanished. Anne-Marie and her husband said that the closest match they could find in their field guide was a Pyrrhuloxia. The Pyrrhuloxia is a fairly common relative of the Cardinal that resides in the Southwestern United Sates. It has a grey-brown body, with patches of red along the wings and on the crown. The face of the Pyrrhuloxia is almost entirely scarlet.
My guess, however, is that the bird they saw in their backyard was almost certainly not a Pyrrhuloxia. Instead, the mystery bird sounds like it could have been a juvenile cardinal. Often times a juvenile of any species will look so different from its adult counterparts that it appears to be a different species altogether. Though the behavior of hopping on the lawn as in search for ants or worms is unusual for a cardinal, the bird might have been driven to act that way due to a food shortage. If the mystery bird was not a cardinal, there is a small chance that it could have been an escaped parrot. I know I have definitely been confused by the calls of escaped parakeets flitting through the backyard. The verdict? The bird you saw is almost certainly a juvenile cardinal, still shedding its baby feathers for a more mature scarlet.
Have you seen a mystery bird in your backyard lately? Are there any birding or column related questions that you’d like to ask? Please be sure to send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net with all of your birding queries.
“It was about the size of a small flicker, and had a brownish body with a few red patches and a crown. The beak looked entirely orange. In fact, as my husband Jim accurately put it, it looked like it was wearing too much lipstick.” The bird stayed in her yard for a few more days until it vanished. Anne-Marie and her husband said that the closest match they could find in their field guide was a Pyrrhuloxia. The Pyrrhuloxia is a fairly common relative of the Cardinal that resides in the Southwestern United Sates. It has a grey-brown body, with patches of red along the wings and on the crown. The face of the Pyrrhuloxia is almost entirely scarlet.
My guess, however, is that the bird they saw in their backyard was almost certainly not a Pyrrhuloxia. Instead, the mystery bird sounds like it could have been a juvenile cardinal. Often times a juvenile of any species will look so different from its adult counterparts that it appears to be a different species altogether. Though the behavior of hopping on the lawn as in search for ants or worms is unusual for a cardinal, the bird might have been driven to act that way due to a food shortage. If the mystery bird was not a cardinal, there is a small chance that it could have been an escaped parrot. I know I have definitely been confused by the calls of escaped parakeets flitting through the backyard. The verdict? The bird you saw is almost certainly a juvenile cardinal, still shedding its baby feathers for a more mature scarlet.
Have you seen a mystery bird in your backyard lately? Are there any birding or column related questions that you’d like to ask? Please be sure to send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net with all of your birding queries.
The Call of Autumn--10/07/07
I think it is now safe to say that Fall has come to Vermont. To the delight of anxious leaf-peepers and residents alike, the hills are now a patchwork quilt of luscious orange, reds, and yellows and there is an autumnal chill in the air, just perfect for taking a walk outside. Fall is always a wonderful season for bird-watching, not only because of the variety of migrating species that pass through the region, but because you always have an excuse to venture into the great outdoors to witness nature for yourself.
Having decided to seize the opportunity to take a walk down the road, I was most definitely rewarded for my efforts. First of all, I was pleased to see a small flock of White-Crowned Sparrows making their way down from Northern Canada to the Southern US. Every year in early fall these pretty little birds always make their annual pit-stop in Dorset over the span of about a week. With their white crowns and distinctive black bands on their heads, they are always a welcome sight in the garden. Later in the day I saw two giant flocks of Canada Geese, in the tradition V-formation, noisily making their way across the sky. After all, can one truly say it is autumn until the change in season has been heralded by the honks of hundreds of migrating geese? Yes, it seems that all of our feathered friends are in pre-winter mode. Even the hundreds of goldfinches have shed their buttery yellow feathers for a duller grey counterpart.
On another note, I was pleased to receive an e-mail from Rick, an avid nature and bird photographer, regarding my most recent two-part column, “The Birding Revolution.” If it is at all possible, make sure to check out Rick’s website and nature blog at www.bugdreams.com and click on the link for birds. You won’t be disappointed! His photos of birds in flight, performing dazzling aerial maneuvers are simply stunning. Rick’s work is a prime example of how the Internet has changed the way we bird. “I think the Internet has helped me reach more people with my bird images,” Rick wrote, “but I still spend hundreds of hours just watching them in my backyard.”
Do you have any questions regarding any of my columns or any birds you have seen in your backyard? Please feel free to contact me via e-mail at chickadee@att.net. Until next time, Happy Birding!
Having decided to seize the opportunity to take a walk down the road, I was most definitely rewarded for my efforts. First of all, I was pleased to see a small flock of White-Crowned Sparrows making their way down from Northern Canada to the Southern US. Every year in early fall these pretty little birds always make their annual pit-stop in Dorset over the span of about a week. With their white crowns and distinctive black bands on their heads, they are always a welcome sight in the garden. Later in the day I saw two giant flocks of Canada Geese, in the tradition V-formation, noisily making their way across the sky. After all, can one truly say it is autumn until the change in season has been heralded by the honks of hundreds of migrating geese? Yes, it seems that all of our feathered friends are in pre-winter mode. Even the hundreds of goldfinches have shed their buttery yellow feathers for a duller grey counterpart.
On another note, I was pleased to receive an e-mail from Rick, an avid nature and bird photographer, regarding my most recent two-part column, “The Birding Revolution.” If it is at all possible, make sure to check out Rick’s website and nature blog at www.bugdreams.com and click on the link for birds. You won’t be disappointed! His photos of birds in flight, performing dazzling aerial maneuvers are simply stunning. Rick’s work is a prime example of how the Internet has changed the way we bird. “I think the Internet has helped me reach more people with my bird images,” Rick wrote, “but I still spend hundreds of hours just watching them in my backyard.”
Do you have any questions regarding any of my columns or any birds you have seen in your backyard? Please feel free to contact me via e-mail at chickadee@att.net. Until next time, Happy Birding!
Friday, June 20, 2008
The Birding Revolution, Part 2--08/27/07
Welcome back to the debate at hand! Last time, I put forth an interesting query: Is the age old favorite hobby of bird-watching receiving a major face lift in our high-demand and highly-charged age? Will traditional backyard birding become a thing of the past in the dot-com decade? Let us continue with the digitalization of the hobby of over 60 million North Americans.
As if our society wasn’t computerized enough, the art of bird-watching has also undergone a digital revolution. The internet is now a popular venue for birders to post and swap information, sightings, and questions with other birders. A popular birding website, eBird, allows members to enter sightings for their state, look at charts displaying the prevalence of species in their area, and to compare the stats with historical data. The eBird website claims that its “goal is to maximize the utility and accessibility of the vast numbers of bird observations made each year by recreational and professional bird watchers.” It’s a wealth of information at your fingertips. Want to know whether there are any Bald Eagles in your area? eBird can help you find the answer.
Next, if you want a shock, look at the amount of money spent per year on wildlife watching. According to a survey conducted by the Scottish Natural Heritage society, Americans spent over $24 million on equipment—including blinds, cameras, tents, camouflage, etc.—and food for wildlife watching in 2001—a far cry from a pair of well-worn binoculars and hand-me-down galoshes.
But is this change really for the better? Are we commercializing bird-watching too much? Well, the answer is yes and no. Yes, it is a wonderful thing that increasing amounts of people are deciding to travel to far-away places to see the stunning and unusual birds that call the jungles home. Yes, it is fantastic that birders can correspond via the Internet and have access to years’ worth of birding statistics at the click of a button. But what are we sacrificing? Perhaps we lose the simplicity and joy of discovery that attracted us to the sport in the first place. After all, bird-watching is not about the number of species you can spot in twenty minutes, high-tech equipment, and being able to identify 627 birdcalls with the help of your iPod. It is a hobby of quiet discovery and awe of the avian world. What’s my opinion? I think I’ll stay on the back porch with my iced tea and pair of well-worn binoculars waiting for something interesting to cross my path. After all, isn’t that what birding is all about?
If you have any questions, comments, or sightings about this column or any happenings in your backyard, make sure to e-mail me (highly inappropriate at this time, I know) at chickadee@att.net. Happy Birding!
As if our society wasn’t computerized enough, the art of bird-watching has also undergone a digital revolution. The internet is now a popular venue for birders to post and swap information, sightings, and questions with other birders. A popular birding website, eBird, allows members to enter sightings for their state, look at charts displaying the prevalence of species in their area, and to compare the stats with historical data. The eBird website claims that its “goal is to maximize the utility and accessibility of the vast numbers of bird observations made each year by recreational and professional bird watchers.” It’s a wealth of information at your fingertips. Want to know whether there are any Bald Eagles in your area? eBird can help you find the answer.
Next, if you want a shock, look at the amount of money spent per year on wildlife watching. According to a survey conducted by the Scottish Natural Heritage society, Americans spent over $24 million on equipment—including blinds, cameras, tents, camouflage, etc.—and food for wildlife watching in 2001—a far cry from a pair of well-worn binoculars and hand-me-down galoshes.
But is this change really for the better? Are we commercializing bird-watching too much? Well, the answer is yes and no. Yes, it is a wonderful thing that increasing amounts of people are deciding to travel to far-away places to see the stunning and unusual birds that call the jungles home. Yes, it is fantastic that birders can correspond via the Internet and have access to years’ worth of birding statistics at the click of a button. But what are we sacrificing? Perhaps we lose the simplicity and joy of discovery that attracted us to the sport in the first place. After all, bird-watching is not about the number of species you can spot in twenty minutes, high-tech equipment, and being able to identify 627 birdcalls with the help of your iPod. It is a hobby of quiet discovery and awe of the avian world. What’s my opinion? I think I’ll stay on the back porch with my iced tea and pair of well-worn binoculars waiting for something interesting to cross my path. After all, isn’t that what birding is all about?
If you have any questions, comments, or sightings about this column or any happenings in your backyard, make sure to e-mail me (highly inappropriate at this time, I know) at chickadee@att.net. Happy Birding!
The Birding Revolution, Part 1--08/27/07
Bird-watching has been one of the world’s most popular hobbies for hundreds of years—the joy of seeing birds in flight overhead, the heartwarming sensation when a pair of birds raises a family of fledglings, and the satisfaction of spotting a new species for the first time. Birding is popular and its popularity is increasing, especially in North America which houses over 60 million birdwatchers. Interestingly, Vermont has the second highest percentage of birdwatchers (43% of state residents) in the country, second only to Montana. The question is: Is the age old favorite hobby of bird-watching undergoing a major face lift in our high-demand and highly-charged age?
Today, birding no longer means sitting on the back porch, sipping an iced tea and watching what comes to the feeder. Nor does it necessarily mean walking in the back yard with binoculars at hand and eyes wide open in case anything unusual should cross one’s path. In recent years, and especially now, bird-watching has evolved more and more from a rewarding hobby to a cutthroat sport. Many people are no longer content to sit at home and wait for something interesting to pop up.
Bird-watching expeditions to far-off places are no longer a thing just for Darwin and Audubon. More birders are choosing to participate in costly, far-away birding trips. Just type “bird-watching trips” into the online search engine Google and you get over 2 million results, from advertisements for birding expeditions to South America to journals written by traveling birdwatchers. Bus loads of birdwatchers ship off to the jungles of Ecuador, Panama, Brazil, and Africa and go on “supervised” birding walks. Travelers used to make up about 20% of all birdwatchers; now, they reach 40%.
I was shocked to find out that the seemingly-omnipresent iPod has also influenced the birding revolution. The popular music player now sports a program where you can download thousands of bird calls onto the device in the palm of your hand. If you think about it, it’s so high tech that your iPod will drown out the calls of the birds you are trying to identify. Not my cup of tea.
Make sure to look for part two of this column next time to further explore the “birding revolution”—from how bird-watching has become increasingly digitalized to how the amount of money spent on the sport is skyrocketing.
Have any birding questions or queries? Seen anything outstanding lately? Be sure to let me know all about, by sending me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net.
Today, birding no longer means sitting on the back porch, sipping an iced tea and watching what comes to the feeder. Nor does it necessarily mean walking in the back yard with binoculars at hand and eyes wide open in case anything unusual should cross one’s path. In recent years, and especially now, bird-watching has evolved more and more from a rewarding hobby to a cutthroat sport. Many people are no longer content to sit at home and wait for something interesting to pop up.
Bird-watching expeditions to far-off places are no longer a thing just for Darwin and Audubon. More birders are choosing to participate in costly, far-away birding trips. Just type “bird-watching trips” into the online search engine Google and you get over 2 million results, from advertisements for birding expeditions to South America to journals written by traveling birdwatchers. Bus loads of birdwatchers ship off to the jungles of Ecuador, Panama, Brazil, and Africa and go on “supervised” birding walks. Travelers used to make up about 20% of all birdwatchers; now, they reach 40%.
I was shocked to find out that the seemingly-omnipresent iPod has also influenced the birding revolution. The popular music player now sports a program where you can download thousands of bird calls onto the device in the palm of your hand. If you think about it, it’s so high tech that your iPod will drown out the calls of the birds you are trying to identify. Not my cup of tea.
Make sure to look for part two of this column next time to further explore the “birding revolution”—from how bird-watching has become increasingly digitalized to how the amount of money spent on the sport is skyrocketing.
Have any birding questions or queries? Seen anything outstanding lately? Be sure to let me know all about, by sending me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net.
The Last Glints of Summer--08/25/07
There is a certain restlessness in the air. As if alerted by an invisible force, many of our favorite summer birds are already preparing to take their long journey down south in search of more temperate climates. In the past two weeks, there has been an upsurge of hummingbird activity that can only mean one thing: it’s time to pack the proverbial bags and move on.
To my disappointment, this summer as a whole has been surprisingly lacking in hummingbirds. As usual at the beginning of “hummer season,” I waited with bated breath for the first flicker of green and red and immediately whipped out the hummingbird feeders. It was almost as if the hummers were trying to avoid me; I hardly ever saw them at the freshly-stocked feeders and rarely glimpsed any feasting in the gardens planned for their pleasure. I still can’t guess why they have been so elusive for the past two months.
Thankfully, the need to fatten up for their long migration to Mexico lured many of the flying flowers out of hiding. Now, I see several every time I go outside. The hummingbird feeders have also been transformed into the usual battleground, with tiny iridescent darts dueling for the next sip of sugar-water.
This is the most important time of the summer to make sure that your hummingbird feeders are ready for action. With the fading of nectar-rich flowers, the hummers rely on feeders to pack on the pounds—ahem, fractions of ounces, rather—that will enable them to survive their voyage. Therefore, it is imperative that you keep your feeders clean and free of scum (especially in the drinking portals!) and check to see that the sugar in your feeders is fresh. It is all right to slightly increase the amount of sugar you put in your feeders at this time of year. However it is wise not to exceed the ratio of two tablespoons of sugar per four ounces of water, for fear of bands of inebriated hummingbirds flying down the Atlantic coast. Continue putting out feeders until mid-September. You could help a late straggler survive the trip!
Don’t forget to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net with all of your questions and late-summer sightings! Happy Birding!
To my disappointment, this summer as a whole has been surprisingly lacking in hummingbirds. As usual at the beginning of “hummer season,” I waited with bated breath for the first flicker of green and red and immediately whipped out the hummingbird feeders. It was almost as if the hummers were trying to avoid me; I hardly ever saw them at the freshly-stocked feeders and rarely glimpsed any feasting in the gardens planned for their pleasure. I still can’t guess why they have been so elusive for the past two months.
Thankfully, the need to fatten up for their long migration to Mexico lured many of the flying flowers out of hiding. Now, I see several every time I go outside. The hummingbird feeders have also been transformed into the usual battleground, with tiny iridescent darts dueling for the next sip of sugar-water.
This is the most important time of the summer to make sure that your hummingbird feeders are ready for action. With the fading of nectar-rich flowers, the hummers rely on feeders to pack on the pounds—ahem, fractions of ounces, rather—that will enable them to survive their voyage. Therefore, it is imperative that you keep your feeders clean and free of scum (especially in the drinking portals!) and check to see that the sugar in your feeders is fresh. It is all right to slightly increase the amount of sugar you put in your feeders at this time of year. However it is wise not to exceed the ratio of two tablespoons of sugar per four ounces of water, for fear of bands of inebriated hummingbirds flying down the Atlantic coast. Continue putting out feeders until mid-September. You could help a late straggler survive the trip!
Don’t forget to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net with all of your questions and late-summer sightings! Happy Birding!
Backyard Banquet--08/24/07
It is hard to believe that summer is still upon us when I walk outside in the chilly air reminiscent of an autumn day. Frighteningly enough, there are already some leaves that have started to change color. Indeed, there is that air of late summer finality leaving its mark on the entire backyard. Vegetables have been harvested, flowers are no longer blooming, the grass is growing at a snail’s pace, and, of course, our feathered friends are switching into second gear in preparation for the cooler days ahead.
The yard has been abuzz with the whirl of constant bird activity: flocks of goldfinches, clusters of chickadees, and bands of blue jays all feverishly vying for the same spot at the feeder. Not to mention, there are also quite a few more unusual birds that have flitted through the yard in the past few days. My elusive Baltimore Oriole friends were back, taunting some orange tomatoes in the garden; I heard the familiar call of the Cedar Waxwings; and I saw a pair of majestic Evening Grosbeaks, who stayed in the yard for two days. The feast has begun! Not only is a banquet set out for the birds, but a banquet of color and activity for the birdwatcher. (That is, of course, if you take the time to fill the feeders four times a day. It is becoming a full time job!)
I received a very interesting article via e-mail from Clarke of Comollo Antiques. Correspondent Steve Faccio, in his article which appeared recently in the Rutland Herald, explored the habits of the somewhat elusive Cedar Waxwing. Aside from the usual information about this nomadic bird, known for its striking appearance and insatiable appetite for fruit, I did learn some pretty neat things. For example, if a waxwing eats a great deal of berries while it is growing a new tail feather, the feather will be orange instead of the usual yellow. Another rather intriguing, but certainly logical, fact: because of their mainly-fruit diet, waxwings are prone to intoxication and death from eating too much fermented fruit. “Two cases from California implicate fermented palm fruits in mass mortality of cedar waxwings. Forty-two birds from a flock of about 200 died in late winter after eating fermented palm fruits. Similarly, 31 birds that were eating palm fruits died over a 2-week period in early spring. Also, two cedar waxwings died from falling to the ground after apparently becoming intoxicated from eating fermented hawthorn fruits; their crop contents and livers showed elevated concentrations of ethanol.” You learn something new every day.
Don’t forget to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net with your questions, comments, and sightings! Happy Birding!
The yard has been abuzz with the whirl of constant bird activity: flocks of goldfinches, clusters of chickadees, and bands of blue jays all feverishly vying for the same spot at the feeder. Not to mention, there are also quite a few more unusual birds that have flitted through the yard in the past few days. My elusive Baltimore Oriole friends were back, taunting some orange tomatoes in the garden; I heard the familiar call of the Cedar Waxwings; and I saw a pair of majestic Evening Grosbeaks, who stayed in the yard for two days. The feast has begun! Not only is a banquet set out for the birds, but a banquet of color and activity for the birdwatcher. (That is, of course, if you take the time to fill the feeders four times a day. It is becoming a full time job!)
I received a very interesting article via e-mail from Clarke of Comollo Antiques. Correspondent Steve Faccio, in his article which appeared recently in the Rutland Herald, explored the habits of the somewhat elusive Cedar Waxwing. Aside from the usual information about this nomadic bird, known for its striking appearance and insatiable appetite for fruit, I did learn some pretty neat things. For example, if a waxwing eats a great deal of berries while it is growing a new tail feather, the feather will be orange instead of the usual yellow. Another rather intriguing, but certainly logical, fact: because of their mainly-fruit diet, waxwings are prone to intoxication and death from eating too much fermented fruit. “Two cases from California implicate fermented palm fruits in mass mortality of cedar waxwings. Forty-two birds from a flock of about 200 died in late winter after eating fermented palm fruits. Similarly, 31 birds that were eating palm fruits died over a 2-week period in early spring. Also, two cedar waxwings died from falling to the ground after apparently becoming intoxicated from eating fermented hawthorn fruits; their crop contents and livers showed elevated concentrations of ethanol.” You learn something new every day.
Don’t forget to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net with your questions, comments, and sightings! Happy Birding!
The Swing of Summer--07/12/07
Summer is in full swing! Not only are gardens and flowers bursting with life and breathtaking color, but my backyard is alive with the flutter of wings and the music of every bird call imaginable.
Engrossed in a piece of historical fiction on the back porch, I was interrupted by a chorus of persistent and high-pitched whistles from the far side of the yard. The call was vaguely familiar, but it took a while of searching with my binoculars until I spotted the source of all the noise. To my delight, I saw a flock of Cedar Waxwings flitting between the trees! This is the first time I have spotted any waxwings in the yard during the summertime. Their last visit was about three years ago in the chill of winter, when I witnessed them feasting on berries from an ornamental shrub. Imagine my surprise and delight!
The cedar waxwing is without a doubt one of my favorite birds. As a young girl, the cedar waxwing was probably my first “interesting” sighting. Not to mention, they are beautiful creatures—with buff-brown bodies, jet black masks, and specks of brilliant red and yellow on the wings and tail. The same flock has appeared every evening at twilight for the past few days. Whenever I hear the distinctive, high-pitched zeeee, I know that my little friends are back again.
On a visit to the Calvin Coolidge Homestead in Plymouth Notch near Killington, I was treated to a fun sighting. Walking along the side of the road was a mother Turkey and her clutch of chicks. The mother turkey ran into the middle of the road and held out her wings in front of the car as if directing traffic. Naturally, we stopped and waiting as the mother crossed to the other side and waiting for her many babies to nervously bolt across the road in pursuit. What a great surprise to finish off the week!
Have you had any delightful surprises lately? Is there a question you’ve been dying to ask? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net. Happy Birding!
Engrossed in a piece of historical fiction on the back porch, I was interrupted by a chorus of persistent and high-pitched whistles from the far side of the yard. The call was vaguely familiar, but it took a while of searching with my binoculars until I spotted the source of all the noise. To my delight, I saw a flock of Cedar Waxwings flitting between the trees! This is the first time I have spotted any waxwings in the yard during the summertime. Their last visit was about three years ago in the chill of winter, when I witnessed them feasting on berries from an ornamental shrub. Imagine my surprise and delight!
The cedar waxwing is without a doubt one of my favorite birds. As a young girl, the cedar waxwing was probably my first “interesting” sighting. Not to mention, they are beautiful creatures—with buff-brown bodies, jet black masks, and specks of brilliant red and yellow on the wings and tail. The same flock has appeared every evening at twilight for the past few days. Whenever I hear the distinctive, high-pitched zeeee, I know that my little friends are back again.
On a visit to the Calvin Coolidge Homestead in Plymouth Notch near Killington, I was treated to a fun sighting. Walking along the side of the road was a mother Turkey and her clutch of chicks. The mother turkey ran into the middle of the road and held out her wings in front of the car as if directing traffic. Naturally, we stopped and waiting as the mother crossed to the other side and waiting for her many babies to nervously bolt across the road in pursuit. What a great surprise to finish off the week!
Have you had any delightful surprises lately? Is there a question you’ve been dying to ask? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net. Happy Birding!
High Season--06/29/07
I can now say with a great deal of confidence that summer is in full swing. Not only are gardens and flowers bursting with life and breathtaking color, but my backyard is alive with the flutter of wings and the music of every bird call imaginable. Following the excitement of all my sightings last week, I was on the lookout. Fortunately, my hopes were not unanswered; there has indeed been a spike in interesting activity.
Engrossed in a piece of historical fiction on the back porch, I was interrupted by a chorus of persistent and high-pitched whistles from the far side of the yard. The call was vaguely familiar, but it took a while of searching with my binoculars until I spotted the source of all the noise. To my delight, I saw a flock of Cedar Waxwings flitting between the trees! This is the first time I have spotted any waxwings in the yard during the summertime. Their last visit was about three years ago in the chill of winter, when I witnessed them feasting on berries from an ornamental shrub. Imagine my surprise and delight! The cedar waxwing is without a doubt one of my favorite birds. As a young girl, the cedar waxwing was probably my first “interesting” sighting. Not to mention, they are beautiful creatures—with buff-brown bodies, jet black masks, and specks of brilliant red and yellow on the wings and tail. The same flock has appeared every evening at twilight for the past few days. Whenever I hear the distinctive, high-pitched zeeee, I know that my little friends are back again. Perhaps I will be able to lure them closer by offering some raisins.
On a visit to the Calvin Coolidge Homestead in Plymouth Notch near Killington, I was treated to a fun sighting. Walking along the side of the road was a mother Turkey and her clutch of chicks. The mother turkey ran into the middle of the road and held out her wings in front of the car as if directing traffic. Naturally, we stopped and waiting as the mother crossed to the other side and waiting for her many babies to nervously bolt across the road in pursuit. What a great surprise to finish off the week!
Have you had any delightful surprises lately? Is there a question you’ve been dying to ask? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net. Happy Birding!
Engrossed in a piece of historical fiction on the back porch, I was interrupted by a chorus of persistent and high-pitched whistles from the far side of the yard. The call was vaguely familiar, but it took a while of searching with my binoculars until I spotted the source of all the noise. To my delight, I saw a flock of Cedar Waxwings flitting between the trees! This is the first time I have spotted any waxwings in the yard during the summertime. Their last visit was about three years ago in the chill of winter, when I witnessed them feasting on berries from an ornamental shrub. Imagine my surprise and delight! The cedar waxwing is without a doubt one of my favorite birds. As a young girl, the cedar waxwing was probably my first “interesting” sighting. Not to mention, they are beautiful creatures—with buff-brown bodies, jet black masks, and specks of brilliant red and yellow on the wings and tail. The same flock has appeared every evening at twilight for the past few days. Whenever I hear the distinctive, high-pitched zeeee, I know that my little friends are back again. Perhaps I will be able to lure them closer by offering some raisins.
On a visit to the Calvin Coolidge Homestead in Plymouth Notch near Killington, I was treated to a fun sighting. Walking along the side of the road was a mother Turkey and her clutch of chicks. The mother turkey ran into the middle of the road and held out her wings in front of the car as if directing traffic. Naturally, we stopped and waiting as the mother crossed to the other side and waiting for her many babies to nervously bolt across the road in pursuit. What a great surprise to finish off the week!
Have you had any delightful surprises lately? Is there a question you’ve been dying to ask? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net. Happy Birding!
Take a Closer Look--06//22/07
Just when you feel as if there is nothing new to see in your backyard, Mother Nature throws you a curveball.
Sitting on my porch watching the roaming bands of goldfinches, starlings, cardinals, and rose-breasted grosbeaks, I was starting to fall into a semi-comatose state. Nothing interesting or vaguely different had appeared in about a fortnight and my early-summer birder’s block had officially begun. Between the monotony of filling the feeders every morning at nine o’clock sharp to the nightly appearance of the little red squirrel at about 6:15, I was getting slightly irritated. But, as I said in my opening line, Nature always has a surprise planned for these moments.
It all happened hard and fast. In the morning, as I sat on the patio reading a book, I heard an interesting call. Quickly glancing up from the text, I spotted the striking orange and black plumage of a—gasp—Baltimore Oriole. Not to sound overly dramatic, but I almost dropped my book. Frequent readers of this column know of my irrational obsession with orioles. For years I have tried in vain to attract them to my backyard. I purchased an oriole feeder, put out orange halves, watched, and waited. Every year, one appears for about a nanosecond and then darts away as if to mock my efforts. This particular oriole, however, sat on the clothesline for a good minute before flying away to the woods. The same bird came to the yard for two consecutive days. Though it hasn’t dared to try the feeder yet, I am keeping my fingers crossed.
Later on that same day, I was repairing woodchuck damage on the garden fence when I saw a flicker of black and white and heard the tell-tale scurrying in a nearby pine. Lurking to the base of the tree, I spotted a woodpecker with a bright red head and throat and a dusky yellow breast. I waited until it vanished before rushing into the house and whipping out my field guide. The bird I saw was a Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker. Fairly common in Vermont in the summer, the sapsucker gets its name from its feeding habits. Sapsuckers drill rows of deep, parallel holes in the trunks of trees and proceed to drink the sap. They are usually quiet except during the mating season, when both sexes will emit a low mewing sound. I haven’t seen my sap-sucking friend since last week, but I have heard the familiar tapping in the pine.
Last, but certainly not least, that same evening, I was watering some perennials when I just happened to glance in the direction of the tube feeders. To my delight and shock, I saw a brilliant male Indigo Bunting perched atop the feeder pole. The Bunting is another bird that always seems to slip through my fingers. I had not seen one in the yard for a good three years, so naturally, this sighting thrilled me. The beautiful little bird soon flitted away, but I hope to see him again soon.
Well, Mother Nature, you certainly taught me a lesson: always take a closer look. You never know what you may see next!
Did Mother Nature throw you a curveball? Is there a question you’ve been dying to ask? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net Happy Birding!
Sitting on my porch watching the roaming bands of goldfinches, starlings, cardinals, and rose-breasted grosbeaks, I was starting to fall into a semi-comatose state. Nothing interesting or vaguely different had appeared in about a fortnight and my early-summer birder’s block had officially begun. Between the monotony of filling the feeders every morning at nine o’clock sharp to the nightly appearance of the little red squirrel at about 6:15, I was getting slightly irritated. But, as I said in my opening line, Nature always has a surprise planned for these moments.
It all happened hard and fast. In the morning, as I sat on the patio reading a book, I heard an interesting call. Quickly glancing up from the text, I spotted the striking orange and black plumage of a—gasp—Baltimore Oriole. Not to sound overly dramatic, but I almost dropped my book. Frequent readers of this column know of my irrational obsession with orioles. For years I have tried in vain to attract them to my backyard. I purchased an oriole feeder, put out orange halves, watched, and waited. Every year, one appears for about a nanosecond and then darts away as if to mock my efforts. This particular oriole, however, sat on the clothesline for a good minute before flying away to the woods. The same bird came to the yard for two consecutive days. Though it hasn’t dared to try the feeder yet, I am keeping my fingers crossed.
Later on that same day, I was repairing woodchuck damage on the garden fence when I saw a flicker of black and white and heard the tell-tale scurrying in a nearby pine. Lurking to the base of the tree, I spotted a woodpecker with a bright red head and throat and a dusky yellow breast. I waited until it vanished before rushing into the house and whipping out my field guide. The bird I saw was a Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker. Fairly common in Vermont in the summer, the sapsucker gets its name from its feeding habits. Sapsuckers drill rows of deep, parallel holes in the trunks of trees and proceed to drink the sap. They are usually quiet except during the mating season, when both sexes will emit a low mewing sound. I haven’t seen my sap-sucking friend since last week, but I have heard the familiar tapping in the pine.
Last, but certainly not least, that same evening, I was watering some perennials when I just happened to glance in the direction of the tube feeders. To my delight and shock, I saw a brilliant male Indigo Bunting perched atop the feeder pole. The Bunting is another bird that always seems to slip through my fingers. I had not seen one in the yard for a good three years, so naturally, this sighting thrilled me. The beautiful little bird soon flitted away, but I hope to see him again soon.
Well, Mother Nature, you certainly taught me a lesson: always take a closer look. You never know what you may see next!
Did Mother Nature throw you a curveball? Is there a question you’ve been dying to ask? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net Happy Birding!
To Let--06/05/07
To Let: Charming country cottage situated on three acres on West Road in Dorset. One room, sparsely furnished, is perfect for raising a small family. Pleasant views of perennial beds and sloping lawn front entrance. First come, first served. Warning—you may have to fight for it…
As any of our many real estate agents in the Northshire area will tell you, summer is always the main season for turning over properties. Here in my backyard the situation is no different; except without the aid of a realtor to keep competition under control. Thus bidding for my most popular birdhouse can quickly become vicious. First, it was a lone chickadee that stopped by for a peek at the house. Soon after, a pair of determined tree swallows competed against him. As of yesterday morning, a second tree swallow couple fixed its gaze on the one-room dwelling. The result? An all-out housing war in which only the fittest survive.
The West corner of the yard now hums with a constant flicker of feathers and chorus of angry warbles. I have witnessed many an aerial strike between the chickadees, tree swallows, and any interloper who dares to get in their way. I guess that I’ll have to watch and wait to see what happens next!
Another prime piece of real estate on the new Route 7 ensures more bird-watching fun: the Great Blue Herons are back in their nesting spots along the road to Bennington. If you have a little extra time, pull your car over by the vast marshland two miles north of Arlington. At a closer glance, you can see several—about five—heron nests perched precariously on the spindly skeletons of dead trees. Just a few days ago, I saw that the heron brood had hatched and that each of the giant nests, guarded by the stately birds, contained about two or three brown babies. To my amusement, you could also clearly hear the babies’ caterwauling from the side of the road, a distance of about 500 feet. Make sure that you stop by before the chicks abandon the nests, and remember to bring your binoculars!
On another note, the Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds have been back for a few weeks. As usual, the males came up first to stake out their territory in mid-May. The females are now arriving slowly just in time for the mating season. Make sure that, with all of the hot weather we have been having, you remember to change the sugar water in your hummingbird feeders frequently for the hot temperatures turn the mixture rancid quickly. A solution of one part sugar to four parts water is the safest and most advisable for your feathered friends.
Seen anything interesting in your backyard lately? Is there a question you’ve been dying to ask? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net. Happy Birding!
As any of our many real estate agents in the Northshire area will tell you, summer is always the main season for turning over properties. Here in my backyard the situation is no different; except without the aid of a realtor to keep competition under control. Thus bidding for my most popular birdhouse can quickly become vicious. First, it was a lone chickadee that stopped by for a peek at the house. Soon after, a pair of determined tree swallows competed against him. As of yesterday morning, a second tree swallow couple fixed its gaze on the one-room dwelling. The result? An all-out housing war in which only the fittest survive.
The West corner of the yard now hums with a constant flicker of feathers and chorus of angry warbles. I have witnessed many an aerial strike between the chickadees, tree swallows, and any interloper who dares to get in their way. I guess that I’ll have to watch and wait to see what happens next!
Another prime piece of real estate on the new Route 7 ensures more bird-watching fun: the Great Blue Herons are back in their nesting spots along the road to Bennington. If you have a little extra time, pull your car over by the vast marshland two miles north of Arlington. At a closer glance, you can see several—about five—heron nests perched precariously on the spindly skeletons of dead trees. Just a few days ago, I saw that the heron brood had hatched and that each of the giant nests, guarded by the stately birds, contained about two or three brown babies. To my amusement, you could also clearly hear the babies’ caterwauling from the side of the road, a distance of about 500 feet. Make sure that you stop by before the chicks abandon the nests, and remember to bring your binoculars!
On another note, the Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds have been back for a few weeks. As usual, the males came up first to stake out their territory in mid-May. The females are now arriving slowly just in time for the mating season. Make sure that, with all of the hot weather we have been having, you remember to change the sugar water in your hummingbird feeders frequently for the hot temperatures turn the mixture rancid quickly. A solution of one part sugar to four parts water is the safest and most advisable for your feathered friends.
Seen anything interesting in your backyard lately? Is there a question you’ve been dying to ask? If so, send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net. Happy Birding!
Spring Awakening--04/12/07
Everyone knows that “April showers bring May flowers.” I do sincerely wonder, however, if the person who coined that phrase would have included snow showers. Spring officially arrived several weeks ago, we have celebrated Easter, and the bulbs are daring to poke their heads through the frozen ground—and the snow is still falling after a winter where most people were praying for just a sprinkling of the ‘white stuff.’
In spite of the rather peculiar weather conditions, however, the birds are fighting back. During the past few days, the birds have finally started to reappear in big numbers. I have spotted huge flocks of goldfinches, still shedding their dull winter feathers for a more desirable buttery counterpart, juncos, blue jays, and hoards of migrating sparrows.
Indeed, the birds are carrying on their usual routine without the slightest consideration of the weather. One particular bird seems to me to be going a little bit far. A pair of house sparrows has decided to nest on the wreath inside the alcove next to my front door. Boy, did I get a surprise when I opened the door to go out and shovel some snow. The furious sparrow gave me a dirty, defiant look and proceeded to stand guard in the bush by the front door in case I should do anything reckless. The next morning, in the midst of another flurry, I noticed three bluish green eggs in the lovely nest.
Now, I fully appreciate the sparrows’ desire to build a nest in the spring, especially on such a prime piece of real estate, but the weather does not seem to be conducive to raising a new generation. The nights are still quite cold and the snow is still falling. I wish them luck. Until then, I will make sure to be very careful as I leave the house.
As always, if you happen to have any questions about the column, any sightings you have had, or anything in general, please feel free to contact me via e-mail at chickadee@att.net I am always happy to answer your questions if at all possible. Until next time, Happy Birding! Stay warm.
In spite of the rather peculiar weather conditions, however, the birds are fighting back. During the past few days, the birds have finally started to reappear in big numbers. I have spotted huge flocks of goldfinches, still shedding their dull winter feathers for a more desirable buttery counterpart, juncos, blue jays, and hoards of migrating sparrows.
Indeed, the birds are carrying on their usual routine without the slightest consideration of the weather. One particular bird seems to me to be going a little bit far. A pair of house sparrows has decided to nest on the wreath inside the alcove next to my front door. Boy, did I get a surprise when I opened the door to go out and shovel some snow. The furious sparrow gave me a dirty, defiant look and proceeded to stand guard in the bush by the front door in case I should do anything reckless. The next morning, in the midst of another flurry, I noticed three bluish green eggs in the lovely nest.
Now, I fully appreciate the sparrows’ desire to build a nest in the spring, especially on such a prime piece of real estate, but the weather does not seem to be conducive to raising a new generation. The nights are still quite cold and the snow is still falling. I wish them luck. Until then, I will make sure to be very careful as I leave the house.
As always, if you happen to have any questions about the column, any sightings you have had, or anything in general, please feel free to contact me via e-mail at chickadee@att.net I am always happy to answer your questions if at all possible. Until next time, Happy Birding! Stay warm.
Snowbound--02/23/07
Winter has finally arrived after a long and snow-less season. When I looked out of my window last week and saw the millions of fluffy white clusters falling from the steel gray sky, I was ecstatic. Some people dislike the cold weather and dread snowfall. However, I find nothing more relaxing than taking a walk outside during a heavy snowfall. I suppose being born in the chill of December does make me predisposed to liking winter.
Well, in spite of my liking of the winter weather, I must admit that on a frigid Sunday morning, I was not in the mood to go outside and fill the empty birdfeeders. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but the three-foot snow drifts in the backyard were not as inviting as my warm bed. The juncos and chickadees were watching me from their favorite bush in the corner of the yard, with hungry eyes, just waiting for me to emerge with my bucket of goodies. After a while, their looks got to me and I prepared to venture out into the snowy abyss.
Dressed in my ski jacket and pants, with my boots tied securely over a thick pair of socks, I opened the back door of the garage, prepared for the worst. The snow was higher than I thought and it was perfect powder. (Rejoice, skiers! Rejoice!) Unfortunately, it was almost impossible to walk through, especially with a giant bucket of sunflower seeds. Perhaps if I walked on my knees, it would be better? Wrong. Instead, I sunk in up to my chest. Lovely. I tried walking again, to no avail. The chickadees were getting exciting now. I could hear their raucous calls from the bush. “Okay, guys. I’m coming…eventually.”
What if I ran? It didn’t sound so bad. I smiled to myself. At break-neck speed, I began to run with giant leaps through the snow, bucket flailing. Surprisingly, it worked. I got to the feeders—in record time, I must add. The chickadees were practically hopping up and down by this point. I finished my task and bounded back through the snow. What fun! I came back inside and removed all my snowy clothing. By now, my mother was in the kitchen. When I entered all rosy-cheeked, laughing with joy, she seemed a tad bit perplexed. “What were you doing out there?” I laughed again. “Just filling the birdfeeders.” That really stumped her. “Okay…”
I went to the window and looked out to the feeders. They were swarming with chickadees, juncos, cardinals, and jays. Later on, the Three Stooges (three crows that frequent my yard) even stopped by. To my surprise, a giant flock of wild turkeys walked through the field behind my house later in the afternoon. What a day!
Sure, I didn’t see anything really out of the ordinary. But, I am truly glad that I decided to fill the feeders that morning. I still smile when I think about my exhilarating snow bounding with my giant bucket of sunflower seeds flailing behind me.
Do you have any interesting stories about winter birding? Have there been any strange sightings in your backyard? If so, please feel free to e-mail me at chickaee@att.net.
Well, in spite of my liking of the winter weather, I must admit that on a frigid Sunday morning, I was not in the mood to go outside and fill the empty birdfeeders. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but the three-foot snow drifts in the backyard were not as inviting as my warm bed. The juncos and chickadees were watching me from their favorite bush in the corner of the yard, with hungry eyes, just waiting for me to emerge with my bucket of goodies. After a while, their looks got to me and I prepared to venture out into the snowy abyss.
Dressed in my ski jacket and pants, with my boots tied securely over a thick pair of socks, I opened the back door of the garage, prepared for the worst. The snow was higher than I thought and it was perfect powder. (Rejoice, skiers! Rejoice!) Unfortunately, it was almost impossible to walk through, especially with a giant bucket of sunflower seeds. Perhaps if I walked on my knees, it would be better? Wrong. Instead, I sunk in up to my chest. Lovely. I tried walking again, to no avail. The chickadees were getting exciting now. I could hear their raucous calls from the bush. “Okay, guys. I’m coming…eventually.”
What if I ran? It didn’t sound so bad. I smiled to myself. At break-neck speed, I began to run with giant leaps through the snow, bucket flailing. Surprisingly, it worked. I got to the feeders—in record time, I must add. The chickadees were practically hopping up and down by this point. I finished my task and bounded back through the snow. What fun! I came back inside and removed all my snowy clothing. By now, my mother was in the kitchen. When I entered all rosy-cheeked, laughing with joy, she seemed a tad bit perplexed. “What were you doing out there?” I laughed again. “Just filling the birdfeeders.” That really stumped her. “Okay…”
I went to the window and looked out to the feeders. They were swarming with chickadees, juncos, cardinals, and jays. Later on, the Three Stooges (three crows that frequent my yard) even stopped by. To my surprise, a giant flock of wild turkeys walked through the field behind my house later in the afternoon. What a day!
Sure, I didn’t see anything really out of the ordinary. But, I am truly glad that I decided to fill the feeders that morning. I still smile when I think about my exhilarating snow bounding with my giant bucket of sunflower seeds flailing behind me.
Do you have any interesting stories about winter birding? Have there been any strange sightings in your backyard? If so, please feel free to e-mail me at chickaee@att.net.
Snow Birds--01/01/07
Happy New Year 2007! With this initially slow start to the winter season, many business owners and visitors, alike, are disappointed over the lack of snow. For the first time in many years, we had a completely “Green Christmas—much to Bing Crosby’s chagrin—free from any sign of snow. Luckily, the dusting has provided some solace for us winter lovers but then the mid-January sleet, rain, ice, snow and whatever storm!
Along with the lack of snow and frigid temperatures, the activity at my feeders has been rather slim, to my dismay. However, I have been blessed with the appearances of the Vermont “snow birds.” Chickadees boisterously frolic about the yard in search of free handouts, cardinals take a rest in the fir trees as if posing for a Christmas card, and the blue jays try in vain to raid the songbird feeders. I am also pleased to report the presence of two of my favorite and less common visitors: slate-colored juncos and tufted titmice.
Slate-colored juncos, common in this area during the winter months, are known to possess a special ability. If one sees a junco, it is supposed to presage a snowfall. Though the beginning of this week left me slightly in disbelief as regards this popular saying, the juncos did indeed predict the snowfall we had just before New Years. Perhaps I should give more credit to these clever little birds after all! As a said above, the titmice have also been sporadically flitting about the yard, going from feeder to feeder. Though many a birder will assure you of their overall abundance, I have yet to see them in groups of more than two more than two or three times a year. When they do appear, however, it is always a pleasure to witness their antics.
As always, if you happen to have any questions about the column, any sightings you have had, or anything in general, please feel free to contact me via e-mail at chickadee@att.net. I am always happy to answer your questions if at all possible. Until next time, Happy Birding!
Along with the lack of snow and frigid temperatures, the activity at my feeders has been rather slim, to my dismay. However, I have been blessed with the appearances of the Vermont “snow birds.” Chickadees boisterously frolic about the yard in search of free handouts, cardinals take a rest in the fir trees as if posing for a Christmas card, and the blue jays try in vain to raid the songbird feeders. I am also pleased to report the presence of two of my favorite and less common visitors: slate-colored juncos and tufted titmice.
Slate-colored juncos, common in this area during the winter months, are known to possess a special ability. If one sees a junco, it is supposed to presage a snowfall. Though the beginning of this week left me slightly in disbelief as regards this popular saying, the juncos did indeed predict the snowfall we had just before New Years. Perhaps I should give more credit to these clever little birds after all! As a said above, the titmice have also been sporadically flitting about the yard, going from feeder to feeder. Though many a birder will assure you of their overall abundance, I have yet to see them in groups of more than two more than two or three times a year. When they do appear, however, it is always a pleasure to witness their antics.
As always, if you happen to have any questions about the column, any sightings you have had, or anything in general, please feel free to contact me via e-mail at chickadee@att.net. I am always happy to answer your questions if at all possible. Until next time, Happy Birding!
Tap Your Toes and Put on a Smile!--11/25/06
As is common during the colder months, the bird activity in my yard has plummeted. Even the old faithfuls, the chickadees, the jays, and the cardinals, seem to have disappeared. Over the past week, the only bird activity I have seen has been at the Village Picture Show in Manchester. That’s right. I’m talking about the bird sighting that has been sweeping the nation—Happy Feet, the major motion picture which documents the adventures of a tap-dancing penguin named Mumble as he struggles to prove himself.
I have been waiting for the release of Happy Feet for over a year and I must say, after my long wait I was not disappointed. Surely, many of you might cringe at the thought of ballad-singing, tap-dancing penguins. But, Happy Feet, aside from being a cute musical journey is surprisingly accurate. The film documents the mating, incubation, and maturing of the Emperor penguins who call the Antarctic home. Each year, after the mating season, the female Emperor journeys to the coastal waters to feed. Before departure, she entrusts her egg to her mate who will guard it for over two months, as he balances it on his feet, fasts, and fights against the frigid temperatures. The females then return just in time for the eggs’ hatching. If you have seen March of the Penguins, another truly fascinating film, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
In Happy Feet, we are first introduced to two Emperor penguin parents, Memphis and Norma-Jean (Hugh Jackman and Nicole Kidman), who have just welcomed baby Mumble (Elijah Wood) into the family. Mumble, however, is different from his penguin counterparts—he does not have a heart song. Rather, Mumble was born with happy, tap-dancing feet. He immediately becomes an outcast, even to his father who says that tap-dancing, “Just ain’t penguin.” Mumble, however, meets a quintet of Adelie penguins, led by the loco-Latin, Ramon (Robin Williams), which embrace his unusual talent and teach him that he is special. A series of adventures ensue, as Mumble and his eccentric friends search for the cause of the decline in the fish population.
Overall, Happy Feet is a charming and amusing film for children of all ages and I highly recommend it. The digital animation of the Antarctic and of the penguins (especially the babies, who are too cute for words) is breathtaking and the ingenuous scenes of thousands of dancing penguins are not to be missed! Most importantly, Happy Feet reminds us humans that we have been entrusted with a priceless gift and that we must work to protect its inhabitants who cannot speak for themselves.
Do you have any comments about Happy Feet, this column, or a bird-sighting? If so, don’t hesitate to send a question to chickadee@att.net.
I have been waiting for the release of Happy Feet for over a year and I must say, after my long wait I was not disappointed. Surely, many of you might cringe at the thought of ballad-singing, tap-dancing penguins. But, Happy Feet, aside from being a cute musical journey is surprisingly accurate. The film documents the mating, incubation, and maturing of the Emperor penguins who call the Antarctic home. Each year, after the mating season, the female Emperor journeys to the coastal waters to feed. Before departure, she entrusts her egg to her mate who will guard it for over two months, as he balances it on his feet, fasts, and fights against the frigid temperatures. The females then return just in time for the eggs’ hatching. If you have seen March of the Penguins, another truly fascinating film, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
In Happy Feet, we are first introduced to two Emperor penguin parents, Memphis and Norma-Jean (Hugh Jackman and Nicole Kidman), who have just welcomed baby Mumble (Elijah Wood) into the family. Mumble, however, is different from his penguin counterparts—he does not have a heart song. Rather, Mumble was born with happy, tap-dancing feet. He immediately becomes an outcast, even to his father who says that tap-dancing, “Just ain’t penguin.” Mumble, however, meets a quintet of Adelie penguins, led by the loco-Latin, Ramon (Robin Williams), which embrace his unusual talent and teach him that he is special. A series of adventures ensue, as Mumble and his eccentric friends search for the cause of the decline in the fish population.
Overall, Happy Feet is a charming and amusing film for children of all ages and I highly recommend it. The digital animation of the Antarctic and of the penguins (especially the babies, who are too cute for words) is breathtaking and the ingenuous scenes of thousands of dancing penguins are not to be missed! Most importantly, Happy Feet reminds us humans that we have been entrusted with a priceless gift and that we must work to protect its inhabitants who cannot speak for themselves.
Do you have any comments about Happy Feet, this column, or a bird-sighting? If so, don’t hesitate to send a question to chickadee@att.net.
The First Weekend of Fall--09/24/06
It’s hard to imagine that the summer is already over, but fall has finally arrived. The leaves are beginning to change, many birds have migrated to warmer and more temperate climates, and the weather has been decidedly chilly. Soon enough, corn and pumpkins will be on display and leaf-peepers will be arriving in droves to look at the patchwork quilt of beautiful leaves. Fall came in with a bang this year; the torrential rains we had this weekend certainly made an impression!
I was surprised to see a lot of bird activity between the rain storms. Right after the rain stopped on Sunday, I spotted a huge flock of Canada Geese in a nearby corn field. Later that same day, I saw more of these popular birds in their famous V-formation, flying over the house.
I was also extremely pleased to see one of my less-frequent visitors in the yard. Every year, at about this time of year, I see a small group of Northern Flickers around the yard. They take pleasure in hopping around on the lawn like robins, in search of worms. Especially after the rains, these comical birds were scurrying about on the lawn, taking advantage of the plentiful worm supply. As always, by the end of the day, they disappeared—well, at least until next year.
Other than that, there has been little activity aside from the jovial chickadees an
Do you have anything you’d like to report or ask about? Do you have any comments or questions about the column? If so, be sure to send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net.
I was surprised to see a lot of bird activity between the rain storms. Right after the rain stopped on Sunday, I spotted a huge flock of Canada Geese in a nearby corn field. Later that same day, I saw more of these popular birds in their famous V-formation, flying over the house.
I was also extremely pleased to see one of my less-frequent visitors in the yard. Every year, at about this time of year, I see a small group of Northern Flickers around the yard. They take pleasure in hopping around on the lawn like robins, in search of worms. Especially after the rains, these comical birds were scurrying about on the lawn, taking advantage of the plentiful worm supply. As always, by the end of the day, they disappeared—well, at least until next year.
Other than that, there has been little activity aside from the jovial chickadees an
Do you have anything you’d like to report or ask about? Do you have any comments or questions about the column? If so, be sure to send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net.
All Quiet on the Western Front--09/04/06
As always, the end of summer and the very beginning of fall is a very uneventful time for bird-watching: many of our summer visitors have abandoned the Green Mountains for warmer climates and even the old faithfuls seem to be scarce. The blue jays and cardinals are losing their bright plumage, which they will soon trade in for their fall feathers and the hummingbirds are still scrambling to get on that sugar high in a desperate last hurrah. In many ways, this lack of activity is probably good now that school has resumed; but, I must say that I miss my no-longer-omnipresent feathered friends.
In spite of the rather dull circumstances, I did have a few slightly interesting sightings this week. The first was that of a small flock of mourning doves. This may not seem particularly exciting, but they almost never come to my yard in numbers greater than two. What was also funny was that these habitually skittish birds mustered up their courage and actually endeavored perching on the tube feeder—a truly humorous attempt, I might add. In addition to my inundation of mourning doves, there was also a spike in activity for the eastern phoebes. I had never seen them in my yard before this year, and they seem to be rapidly increasing in number. Later on that day, a female wild turkey was meandering around on a lawn near the Dorset Quarry, pecking lazily.
Lastly, to my surprise and delight, a female hummingbird was hovering just inches from my face and neck when I went outside. Luckily, I had randomly chosen to put on a red shirt that morning. The flying jewel lunched at the bee-balm patch for a few minutes before continuing on its path. Little did it know, but when it flew away it had a bright red bee-balm petal stuck to the top of its head!
Though this time of year can certainly be disappointing for a birder, keep your binoculars in hand and keep your eyes wide open—you never know what may fly into your yard unexpectedly. And, if you do see anything unusual, make sure to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net.
In spite of the rather dull circumstances, I did have a few slightly interesting sightings this week. The first was that of a small flock of mourning doves. This may not seem particularly exciting, but they almost never come to my yard in numbers greater than two. What was also funny was that these habitually skittish birds mustered up their courage and actually endeavored perching on the tube feeder—a truly humorous attempt, I might add. In addition to my inundation of mourning doves, there was also a spike in activity for the eastern phoebes. I had never seen them in my yard before this year, and they seem to be rapidly increasing in number. Later on that day, a female wild turkey was meandering around on a lawn near the Dorset Quarry, pecking lazily.
Lastly, to my surprise and delight, a female hummingbird was hovering just inches from my face and neck when I went outside. Luckily, I had randomly chosen to put on a red shirt that morning. The flying jewel lunched at the bee-balm patch for a few minutes before continuing on its path. Little did it know, but when it flew away it had a bright red bee-balm petal stuck to the top of its head!
Though this time of year can certainly be disappointing for a birder, keep your binoculars in hand and keep your eyes wide open—you never know what may fly into your yard unexpectedly. And, if you do see anything unusual, make sure to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net.
After the Rains--08/27/06
After the torrential downpour we had last weekend, I surely did not expect that I would have a busy birding day ahead of me. I was proved wrong…
First of all, I was privileged to see a majestic Great Blue Heron flying through the fog when we were driving back from church in the morning. They do look their best when seen in a mist or dark sky, I must say.
A few hours later we were back at home, waiting for the weather to clear. As soon as the rain stopped, there was a swarm of birds that came to the backyard. I counted twenty one robins on the lawn, as well as a gaggle of chickadees, a few blue jays, and two very wet chipmunks. After my initial surprise about the number of robins, I immediately realized why they had come in droves: a meal opportunity. Obviously, the drumming sound of the rain had caused many worms to surface, thus providing an excellent midday snack. Talk about a spectacle!
On the other hand, there has also been an unusual amount of activity with our hummingbirds during the past week. Soon enough, they will be making their long journey to Mexico for the winter. For us humans, this means that it may prove life-threatening to venture out of doors—after all, you may be struck down by a swarm of violent hummingbirds. During their frequent and vicious fights amongst themselves, they are not deterred by bouncing off the porch screen in a desperate attempt to get to the exotic flowering plants inside. My fuchsias are no longer safe. To please the cute little devils remember to keep them on that sugar high by changing the nectar in your feeders frequently. Oh, and in spite of the old myth, you may keep your feeders out past Labor Day. It will not prevent the hummingbirds from migrating, but might actually save the lives of a few stragglers.
So remember: when going outside always be equipped with a rain-proof coat and be ready to hit the deck in case of a hummingbird emergency. Happy birding!
Do you have anything you’d like to report or ask about? If so, be sure to shoot an e-mail to chickadee@att.net.
First of all, I was privileged to see a majestic Great Blue Heron flying through the fog when we were driving back from church in the morning. They do look their best when seen in a mist or dark sky, I must say.
A few hours later we were back at home, waiting for the weather to clear. As soon as the rain stopped, there was a swarm of birds that came to the backyard. I counted twenty one robins on the lawn, as well as a gaggle of chickadees, a few blue jays, and two very wet chipmunks. After my initial surprise about the number of robins, I immediately realized why they had come in droves: a meal opportunity. Obviously, the drumming sound of the rain had caused many worms to surface, thus providing an excellent midday snack. Talk about a spectacle!
On the other hand, there has also been an unusual amount of activity with our hummingbirds during the past week. Soon enough, they will be making their long journey to Mexico for the winter. For us humans, this means that it may prove life-threatening to venture out of doors—after all, you may be struck down by a swarm of violent hummingbirds. During their frequent and vicious fights amongst themselves, they are not deterred by bouncing off the porch screen in a desperate attempt to get to the exotic flowering plants inside. My fuchsias are no longer safe. To please the cute little devils remember to keep them on that sugar high by changing the nectar in your feeders frequently. Oh, and in spite of the old myth, you may keep your feeders out past Labor Day. It will not prevent the hummingbirds from migrating, but might actually save the lives of a few stragglers.
So remember: when going outside always be equipped with a rain-proof coat and be ready to hit the deck in case of a hummingbird emergency. Happy birding!
Do you have anything you’d like to report or ask about? If so, be sure to shoot an e-mail to chickadee@att.net.
Birding on my Mind--08/21/06
Here’s a question for all you birders out there: why do we watch the birds? What is it about the avian world that captivates us so? There must be a reason beyond the fact that they are “cute and fluffy” and make nice noises.
In North America alone, there are over 60 million birdwatchers—which means that bird-watching is the continent’s most popular hobby. To a non-birder, this hobby night be confused with an affliction or disease: birdwatchers are always ready at moments notice to run after a rare or exotic species of bird; they spend hundreds or maybe thousands of dollars per year on bird food, bird-watching equipment and books, and sometimes, birding expeditions to far-away places; they speak feverishly amongst themselves about their sightings. But the truth is, more and more people are discovering the joys of watching and caring for birds.
For thousands of years, birds have been held in high-esteem by humans all over the world. In the earliest forms of literature and music, birds are depicted as symbols of wisdom, truth, strength, power, birth, death, and hope (think “Hope is the Thing with Feathers”). Countless poems have been inspired by the avian world, such as those by Thoreau, Emerson, and Dickinson, to name a few. In ancient lore, the Phoenix was a symbol of power and rebirth. The Greek Halcyon is still used in our vocabulary as a word associated with peace and prosperity. And, here at home, the Thunderbird of Native American legend can make the Earth tremble with the blink of an eye.
Also, just think of how many sayings in the English language have avian connections: someone who eats little “eats like a bird,” we tell people “not to count their eggs before they’re hatched,” or people who are “as graceful as a swan.”
Perhaps one of the main reasons why birds continue to fascinate us is because they possess the power of flight—a feat we can never master. Daedalus and Icarus made wings for themselves with feathers and wax (and look what happened to them…eek) and Renaissance genius Leonardo daVinci dreamed of creating a flying machine. Sure we have planes, but is it really the same thing? Birds still possess the freedom of flight in a form we cannot master.
Well perhaps we can’t really find a concrete reason why we like birds, these creatures of the skies, the heavens and our innermost souls. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, “The Birds of Killingworth,” sums this up marvelously: “Do you ne’er think what wondrous beings these? Do you ne’er think who made them, and who taught the dialect they speak, where melodies alone are the interpreters of though? Whose household words are songs in many keys, sweeter than instrument of man e’er caught?”
Don’t forget to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net with your questions, comments, and sightings! Happy Birding!
In North America alone, there are over 60 million birdwatchers—which means that bird-watching is the continent’s most popular hobby. To a non-birder, this hobby night be confused with an affliction or disease: birdwatchers are always ready at moments notice to run after a rare or exotic species of bird; they spend hundreds or maybe thousands of dollars per year on bird food, bird-watching equipment and books, and sometimes, birding expeditions to far-away places; they speak feverishly amongst themselves about their sightings. But the truth is, more and more people are discovering the joys of watching and caring for birds.
For thousands of years, birds have been held in high-esteem by humans all over the world. In the earliest forms of literature and music, birds are depicted as symbols of wisdom, truth, strength, power, birth, death, and hope (think “Hope is the Thing with Feathers”). Countless poems have been inspired by the avian world, such as those by Thoreau, Emerson, and Dickinson, to name a few. In ancient lore, the Phoenix was a symbol of power and rebirth. The Greek Halcyon is still used in our vocabulary as a word associated with peace and prosperity. And, here at home, the Thunderbird of Native American legend can make the Earth tremble with the blink of an eye.
Also, just think of how many sayings in the English language have avian connections: someone who eats little “eats like a bird,” we tell people “not to count their eggs before they’re hatched,” or people who are “as graceful as a swan.”
Perhaps one of the main reasons why birds continue to fascinate us is because they possess the power of flight—a feat we can never master. Daedalus and Icarus made wings for themselves with feathers and wax (and look what happened to them…eek) and Renaissance genius Leonardo daVinci dreamed of creating a flying machine. Sure we have planes, but is it really the same thing? Birds still possess the freedom of flight in a form we cannot master.
Well perhaps we can’t really find a concrete reason why we like birds, these creatures of the skies, the heavens and our innermost souls. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, “The Birds of Killingworth,” sums this up marvelously: “Do you ne’er think what wondrous beings these? Do you ne’er think who made them, and who taught the dialect they speak, where melodies alone are the interpreters of though? Whose household words are songs in many keys, sweeter than instrument of man e’er caught?”
Don’t forget to e-mail me at chickadee@att.net with your questions, comments, and sightings! Happy Birding!
A Mystery Visitor--07/30/06
With all of the beautiful weather we have been having lately, who can resist sitting outside on the porch or in a garden chair taking in the beauty of Nature? I know that I personally cannot resist; so, when summer reading comes a calling, outdoors is where you will find me.
Last week, on a particularly nice day, whist I was engrossed in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, I heard a sudden and piercing scream (of a bird that is…phew!). Throwing Anna aside and whipping out my binoculars, I saw a terrified Starling being F-16ed after by a speedy hawk, ready for the kill (watch out, little chipmunks!). The Starling tried its hardest but, we are now one Starling short. The hawk swooped in a dramatic whipping and flashing of wings and pinned its unfortunate prey to the ground. Luckily for me—and rather unluckily for the Starling—the hawk briefly stayed on the ground as the bird died, which gave me a chance to see what species of hawk it was.
It was a species I had never encountered previously: with a cream-colored stomach, light brown feathers in the back, little prominent spotting on the breast, and bare yellow legs. Before I could see any more, the mysterious predator had disappeared with its prize. With Tolstoy abandoned for Stokes, I got to work on identifying this magnificent raptor. The result I came up with was the female Northern Harrier. It was the closest match in appearance and size, as well as the description of the hunting flight. They do live in this area during the summer, and are seen by grasslands and marsh/pond areas. These beautiful birds are distinguished by their long tail, black tipped wings, white rump, and low, fast flight during hunting.
You would think that after reading dozens of Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple books, I would be a better detective. However, I am sorry to say that with only my quick glimpse, the identity of the mystery hunter just might remain anonymous.
If you have an idea of what this mystery bird may be, or if you have questions, comments, and observations in general, you can always contact me at chickadee@att.net
Last week, on a particularly nice day, whist I was engrossed in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, I heard a sudden and piercing scream (of a bird that is…phew!). Throwing Anna aside and whipping out my binoculars, I saw a terrified Starling being F-16ed after by a speedy hawk, ready for the kill (watch out, little chipmunks!). The Starling tried its hardest but, we are now one Starling short. The hawk swooped in a dramatic whipping and flashing of wings and pinned its unfortunate prey to the ground. Luckily for me—and rather unluckily for the Starling—the hawk briefly stayed on the ground as the bird died, which gave me a chance to see what species of hawk it was.
It was a species I had never encountered previously: with a cream-colored stomach, light brown feathers in the back, little prominent spotting on the breast, and bare yellow legs. Before I could see any more, the mysterious predator had disappeared with its prize. With Tolstoy abandoned for Stokes, I got to work on identifying this magnificent raptor. The result I came up with was the female Northern Harrier. It was the closest match in appearance and size, as well as the description of the hunting flight. They do live in this area during the summer, and are seen by grasslands and marsh/pond areas. These beautiful birds are distinguished by their long tail, black tipped wings, white rump, and low, fast flight during hunting.
You would think that after reading dozens of Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple books, I would be a better detective. However, I am sorry to say that with only my quick glimpse, the identity of the mystery hunter just might remain anonymous.
If you have an idea of what this mystery bird may be, or if you have questions, comments, and observations in general, you can always contact me at chickadee@att.net
Stop, Look, and Listen!
I think that it is finally safe to say that summer has come to Vermont; and with rising temperatures comes a rise in bird activity, as well. The sudden and drastic rise in temperature, however, seems to have put the birds in hiding. Indeed, when the sun is at its peak, I hardly see any of my feathered friends outside. Here’s the catch: I may not see any birds for most of the day, but I can hear them. That factor made me think about the importance of the recognition of bird calls for any avian enthusiast.
As a budding bird-watcher of eight or nine, I specifically remember asking myself how I was ever to recognize any bird calls at all, let alone a multitude of them. Now, I can probably identify about fifty or sixty (after nine years’ work). A big boost for my birding ear came along with the handy and extremely useful Birdsong Identiflyer, a mini-computer with insert-able themed cards, each with sound bites of various bird songs. This clever device was very useful when it came to learning and recognizing odd bird calls. Of course, now the ubiquitous iPod has a downloadable program which makes thousands of bird calls available at your fingertips—an astonishing wealth of information!
Naturally, the best way to learn bird calls, though, is by stopping, looking, and listening. Though I fear sounding reminiscent of some kind of hackneyed street-crossing caveat, it’s true. The best way to associate birds with their various sounds is by keen sensory perception of the birds around you.
Today, at the peak of the afternoon heat, I was sitting on the porch when I heard an incessant zeeeee coming from the pine trees in the backyard. I didn’t see anything, but the sound rang a bell. Soon after, I realized that there was a flock of beautiful Cedar Waxwings flitting through the branches of the tree, nibbling on the fresh pine buds.
Later, I was doing some gardening when I heard a faint buzzing from over my shoulder. Sure enough, the feisty little hummingbird that frequents the bleeding hearts around the porch was there for a bite. He stayed for a few minutes before investigating the nectar possibilities of a rather startled cardinal on the bird feeder and then, making a speedy getaway.
Then, I heard a strange and vaguely familiar call from the bushes. Sure enough, I spotted the distinctive brilliant blue on one of my favourite summer visitors: the Indigo Bunting. The indigo buntings never stay for very long, and I usually only see them a few times each summer, so I was, needless to say, very pleased.
As I have learned, the ability to recognize bird-calls is a very central part of the birding experience. I must admit, I had never really thought about it before today’s hot and sticky weather made me pay a little closer attention to the sights and sounds around me. I stopped, I looked, I listened, and I had some great and unexpected sightings.
Have you noticed anything interesting in your backyard as of late? Do you have any comments or critiques on this column? If so, feel free to send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net and I will be more than happy to respond.
As a budding bird-watcher of eight or nine, I specifically remember asking myself how I was ever to recognize any bird calls at all, let alone a multitude of them. Now, I can probably identify about fifty or sixty (after nine years’ work). A big boost for my birding ear came along with the handy and extremely useful Birdsong Identiflyer, a mini-computer with insert-able themed cards, each with sound bites of various bird songs. This clever device was very useful when it came to learning and recognizing odd bird calls. Of course, now the ubiquitous iPod has a downloadable program which makes thousands of bird calls available at your fingertips—an astonishing wealth of information!
Naturally, the best way to learn bird calls, though, is by stopping, looking, and listening. Though I fear sounding reminiscent of some kind of hackneyed street-crossing caveat, it’s true. The best way to associate birds with their various sounds is by keen sensory perception of the birds around you.
Today, at the peak of the afternoon heat, I was sitting on the porch when I heard an incessant zeeeee coming from the pine trees in the backyard. I didn’t see anything, but the sound rang a bell. Soon after, I realized that there was a flock of beautiful Cedar Waxwings flitting through the branches of the tree, nibbling on the fresh pine buds.
Later, I was doing some gardening when I heard a faint buzzing from over my shoulder. Sure enough, the feisty little hummingbird that frequents the bleeding hearts around the porch was there for a bite. He stayed for a few minutes before investigating the nectar possibilities of a rather startled cardinal on the bird feeder and then, making a speedy getaway.
Then, I heard a strange and vaguely familiar call from the bushes. Sure enough, I spotted the distinctive brilliant blue on one of my favourite summer visitors: the Indigo Bunting. The indigo buntings never stay for very long, and I usually only see them a few times each summer, so I was, needless to say, very pleased.
As I have learned, the ability to recognize bird-calls is a very central part of the birding experience. I must admit, I had never really thought about it before today’s hot and sticky weather made me pay a little closer attention to the sights and sounds around me. I stopped, I looked, I listened, and I had some great and unexpected sightings.
Have you noticed anything interesting in your backyard as of late? Do you have any comments or critiques on this column? If so, feel free to send me an e-mail at chickadee@att.net and I will be more than happy to respond.
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