Category Archives: Birds

US Fish & Wildlife’s Woodcock Singing Ground Survey

It was a cool day and supposed to get cold overnight—below freezing. Would it be warm enough 15 or 22 minutes after sunrise to start counting woodcock? The air temperature has to be a minimum of 40 degrees. It was 50 degrees at 6:30 pm, looked like it wasn’t going to drop quickly, and so off we went to Amity to count woodcock.

Woodcock are a small migratory, wading, woods-living bird. They’re difficult to see, often not making themselves known until you almost literally step on them. They let you know of their presence by bursting up into flight a few feet in front of you, causing swear words and heart palpitations.

I don’t remember how many years I’ve been volunteering in the US Department of Inland Fisheries & Wildlife’s Woodcock Singing Ground Survey but it must be nine or ten by now. I run two routes, Amity and Danforth, both in Aroostook County, with help from Steve. He’s my chauffer and extra set of ears.

Woodcock start peenting, a gravely, nasally sound they make to attract females, around sunset during their breeding season. At the end of the peenting cycle they burst nearly horizontally into the evening sky. They fly as much as 250 feet off the ground during their dance. When they reach their desired height they fly in an erratic pattern (could be mistaken for a bat) for several seconds before returning to the ground to restart the sequence.

Counting begins 22 minutes after sunset if the sky is three-quarters or less overcast (sky condition). If the sky is more than three-quarters overcast, counting starts 15 minutes after sunset.

Counters record the time of sunset, the time counting starts, mileage, wind, sky condition and precipitation. Notes are made on anything that might interfere with our ability to hear. We don’t count in high winds or rain. If possible, we count in perfect weather conditions so that we can get an accurate count of how many males are in the breeding ground.

The route is predetermined. Each year you start in the same place and stop in the same ten spots. Each is four-tenths of a mile apart. You count for exactly two minutes.

We started counting at 8:09 pm because the sky was overcast. Stops one and two were quiet. I watched a snowshoe hare hoping around at the first stop. It’s unusual to not hear at least one woodcock at this stop.

Stop three started at 8:16 pm with three peenting males. This stop is on a long stretch that allows sound to carry. An oncoming car blocked out some of the time I counted but I’m confident there were three birds peenting. A barking dog in the distance didn’t block sound.

American woodcock, photo by Robin Follette

American Woodcock

The number of birds peenting are counted, not the number of peents. Let’s say I’ve done this for ten years, always running two routes each year, each route consisting of 10 stops. In 200 stops I’ve seen one woodcock. We’re counting by sound. It’s easy to count the number of birds because they’re far enough apart to distinguish between them.

Stops four, five and six each had one bird. I wished the dog would stop barking so I could hear well. I admit, barking dogs are a pet peeve of mine. Stop six had a lot of loud frogs which might have kept me from hearing peents in the distance. This doesn’t change from year to year. There’s always a boggy area with a lot of frogs.

Stop seven turned up one woodcock and something, probably a deer, walking away through the brush away from us. A barred owl hooted the entire time. “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you-all?”

Stop eight had two birds and was easy to count thanks to almost complete silence.

Stop nine had one, possibly two males peenting. I recorded one because I’m not sure of the second. Thank you, Mr. Barking Dog. I look at the ditch on the north side of the road for moose at this stop. We saw two young moose there several years ago, and I always hope there will be another. Highly unlikely that it will happen, but I hope anyway.

The last stop, at 8:41 pm, had one bird. That’s unusual.

There was less traffic than usual, and while loud, the frogs weren’t as loud this year as in years past. There was very little logging truck traffic. This was the best year for this route. It averages around 60% of the stops having birds to count, and this year it was 80%. I have no idea what this means for the woodcock population. Maybe the numbers are up, or maybe I happened to hit it on a good night. Or something else.

We usually see bear, moose or deer when counting. We heard what was probably a deer, and on the way home saw a yearling bear cub run from the side of the road into the woods. It’s the first bear sighting for me this year.

I’m counting in Danforth tonight. Of the two routes, this one is my favorite. I’ll be out toward the wind farm in an area with less traffic and more deer.

Wordless Wednesday – Singing from the tree top

American robin

The setting sun made the robin look more red than usual. He was so high up in the tree I couldn’t see him well, and so red that if he hadn’t been singing, I wouldn’t have been able to easily identify him.

Red-winged Black Bird

red-winged black bird

Blowing in the wind

Red-winged blackbird

The spring-arriving birds didn’t bring spring with them. You can see the snowflakes against his black feathers.

Red-winged blackbird

Gusty winds and snow. Where’s spring?

 

 

Robin’s Nest

This robin’s nest, made last year, is in good shape. If I get back to it later this spring I’ll look to see if another bird calls it home.

Robin's nest

Waiting for new occupants?

Canon PowerShot SX50 HS

Robin on Birch – Wordless Wednesday

American robin in a birch tree

He’s puffed up against the cold but shivering. 18* and snowing this morning. 

Canon PowerShot SX50 HS

Nesting Bald Eagle

Remember the bald eagle taking a bath at Magurrewock Marsh earlier this month? I’m not sure if it’s the same eagle; if it’s not, it’s that eagle’s mate. The male is considerably older than the female. This is the third nesting season with him after his previous mate didn’t return. They haven’t yet hatched and raised an eaglet. Perhaps this will be their first year.

bald eagle nesting 2

I see you seeing me.

American bald eagle on nest, Magurrewock Marsh, Moosehorn National Wildlife Refuge, Baring Maine

This is the third year together for this pair of American bald eagles. They haven’t yet raised an eaglet together. She is younger than the male.

 

Eastern wild tom turkeys in Maine

Eastern Wild Toms Mingling on the Homestead

The boys are back. I’m not sure they left, they might have been here and I didn’t see them. I’ve been on the road quite a bit this week, and have conjunctivitis in both eyes (They’re trying to out gross each other.), leaving me not very aware of what’s going on here on the homestead.

I let my chickens, ducks and turkeys out this morning to get some exercise. Jake, my five or six year old Bourbon Red tom, spent a couple of hours fanned out and strutting, but he’s courting the chickens rather than turkeys. Poor boy. It’s his first spring as the only tom in the rafter and he seems a bit confused.

I glanced out the window while doing dishes and said out loud, “Oh.” <pause>  “Ohhhh….”  The resident Eastern (backspace, add n, they are not Easter turkeys no matter how many times I type Easter instead of Eastern) wild toms were here, courting my three of my Bourbon Red hens. The BR’s couldn’t have cared less. The ducks continued to look for something to eat just a few feet from the wild toms. The chickens scratched in the dead grass on the still-frozen ground. They’re all used to having the wild toms around. Well, all but Jake. Jake was not in sight. Scooter, one of the dogs that’s supposed to keep the wild birds away, sat in the backyard scanning the sky and tree line, keeping all of the birds safe, including the wild turkeys.

Bourbon Red hen and Eastern wild toms, and Indian runner ducks

What’s in that building?

I found Jake in the hen house, avoiding having his tail feathers kicked. We’ll see how that goes when mating season begins and he wants his hens all to himself.

Eastern wild tom turkeys in Maine

We stroll through like we own the place.

A rafter of 15-18 turkeys has been hanging around about three-quarters of a mile down the road. I keep hoping these two will find the rafter and join them. The chances of that happening might improve when mating season starts and the birds are vocal, but those toms might not allow these to join the rafter. Watch and learn!

Beautiful Snowy Morning

I did a one-armed furniture move this morning and moved my desk to the bay window. There isn’t going to be much sun shining in to blind me this week so I’ll enjoy a new view while I write. I hung an energy bar outside the window, which is opened enough to let some fresh air and the birds’ songs in. “Pee wee. Pee wee. Pee wee.” Not an early phoebe, that’s one of the many calls of a black capped chickadee. Crows are cawing, flying and diving at each other. A red squirrel is throwing spruce cones to the ground across the road. The turkeys visited early this morning, much to Steve’s delight. He’s enjoying the “flying crap machines” now that there are only two.

Eastern wild tom turkeys

They’ve discovered the bird seed I put down for the ground feeders.They weren’t included on the list of birds I want to feed.

There’s a tiny bit of blue sky peaking through the clouds as it snows. This is the fifth or sixth day in a row it has snowed at least lightly. It has snowed during the past four weekends and random days during the week since the beginning of February; fourth snowiest February on record.

On a good note, Boss has started to lay again. We’ve been buying local eggs but I don’t think they’re very fresh. The whites don’t stand up well. At $3.50 a dozen, it gets expensive to buy them but eating factory farmed eggs is never an option. My new flock of mini, foraging egg-laying machines arrives the first full week of April. I’m not usually excited about chicks coming but these tiny fluff balls already make me smile and they aren’t even incubating yet!

The chickens, ducks and turkeys are loose outdoors today. The snow is sliding off the roof and will crush the ducks as they enjoy the puddles below, so everyone is out. I love looking out the window to see the birds. I filled a large pan with water for the ducks to bathe in and tossed down some cracked corn for them to peck at during the day. All is well in their world.

What’s good and wonderful in your world today?

American bald eagle, Magurrewock Marsh, Moosehorn National Wildife Refuge

American Bald Eagle in Magurrewock Marsh

I drove through Magurrewock Marsh in Moosehorn National Wildlife Refuge on my way home from archery practice this week, hoping to see the bald eagles. The eagles (two) were there and one of them was bathing in a break in the ice in the marsh. It was too far away for my 300 mm lens but I tried a few pictures anyway. They aren’t good quality but I’m sharing them anyway. I’ve watched robins, starlings, grackles and other small birds take baths in puddles but never a bald eagle in a break in the ice in a marsh.

eagle bath

eagle bath 2

American bald eagle, Magurrewock Marsh, Moosehorn National Wildife Refuge

American bald eagle, Magurrewock Marsh, Moosehorn National Wildife Refuge

Wild bird energy bar

Energy Bars for the Wild Birds

Weather Forecast

Today’s high is -2*F.  It’s currently -6*, windchill of -26*. Brutal. Frost bite can happen in as little as 10 minutes on days like today. The birds, both wild and domestic, are fluffed up against the cold. I keep suet and energy bars out for the birds most of the time, and when it’s this cold, I give them extras.

Energy bars for wild birds

Mix well. All seeds, nuts, etc. should be coated so they’ll stick together.

I made a batch of high fat, high protein seed cakes. Some measurements are approximate.

2 cups peanut butter, no sugar added
1/2 cup butter (not margarine)
Enough peanuts (shelled), dried fruit and bird seed to make a sticky ball

Melt the butter and peanut butter together. Turn heat off.
Add nuts, seeds and fruit and stir well. Continue to add bird seed until a solid, sticky ball forms in the pan.

Fill molds or containers and place in the freezer or fridge until cold enough to handle without being a mess. Place in mesh bag or holder and hang for the birds.

Red-Breasted Nuthatch

The red-breasted nuthatches (Sitta canadensis) are among the busiest birds coming to my feeders, matched only by the black-capped chickadees. They’re 4.5″ of non-stop energy. They have a short neck and round head. Their wings and back are blue-gray; females are lighter gray. They sport a black cap on the heads and black mask-like stripe along their eyes, and have a white face. A long, pointed beak helps them hide and find food they’ve stashed. If they look at you face-to-face their mask makes them look like miniature villains. Their name, red-breasted, comes from their rusty-colored underparts.

For size comparison, a black-capped chickadee and a red-breasted nuthatch.

For size comparison, a black-capped chickadee and a red-breasted nuthatch.

Nuthatches move sideways, up and down on tree trunks and branches, the feeders and suet ball.

Female red-breasted nuthatch hangs upside down while waiting her turn at the suet ball.

Female red-breasted nuthatch hangs upside down while waiting her turn at the suet ball.

Red-breasted nuthatches like the same mix of hardwood and softwood forests. You’ll find them in the same areas as chickadees and woodpeckers. They’re cavity nesters that do their own excavation, creating a nest that’s 2.5″ to 8″ deep. I didn’t know anything about their nesting habits so I did a little research. They gather resin from conifer trees, sometimes in their beaks and other times on pieces of wood, and apply it to the opening of the nest cavity. When gathered on wood, the wood is used as an application. It’s thought that the stickiness of the resin deters predators. The nuthatches avoid the resin by flying directly into the cavity rather than landing near or in the hole first. Males coat the outside and females take care of the inside. Shredded bark, grass, fur and feathers are used to line the nest. One brood of young is raised a year. Two to eight light-colored speckled eggs are laid and incubated for 12 to 13 days. In 18 to 21 days the young leave the nest.

red-breasted nuthatch suet

red breasted nuthatch 3 red breasted nuthatch

red breasted nuthatch 2

Red-breasted nuthatches eat cone seeds, insects and caterpillars. At the feeder they prefer black oil sunflower seeds, suet and shelled peanuts. If you’re patient you might convince one to land on your hand to get food. I start in the morning when the feeder is empty. I hold out a handful of sunflower seeds and stay as still as possible. They don’t usually come to me easily. It could take a few days, maybe a week, until they’re comfortable enough to land on you. One of the males will land on the feeder while I’m filling it and will sometimes land on my hand. He’s still getting used to me. Be patient. Being able to observe these little dynamos at arm’s length is worth the effort.

red-breasted nuthatch suet 2

They spend as much time, or maybe more, upside down on the suet ball than right side up.

Black-capped chickadee

Mobbed by Black-Capped Chickadees

The black-capped chickadee (Poecile atricapillus) is our state bird.

Have you ever noticed how big the chickadee’s head is in comparison to its body? It’s the Charlie Brown of song birds. At 4.5″ to 6″ and only up to one-half ounce, chickadees are small birds. The widening white streak between their black cap and bib make them easy to distinguish from Carolina chickadees. They have gray and black wings, tail and back with a tan and white underside, and a short, thick beak. By written description, they sound like a small version of the a Canada jay.

black-capped chickadee

The black-capped chickadee is the state bird of Maine.

You’ll find chickadees living most every where. They nest in cavities they make in hardwood trees usually alders and birch according to All About Birds, or in abandoned Downy woodpecker nests. They’ll sometimes choose a nest box rather than a tree, especially if you put wood shavings they can excavate. They have one clutch of up to 13 eggs and nest only once a year. Incubation takes 12-13 days, and fledglings leave the nest within 16 days. Sixteen days isn’t very long to grow your feathers, strengthen your wings and leave the nest.

Black-capped chickadee

Did you get fries with that?

Erin Merrill and I were talking about the things you notice when you’re sitting still in the tree stand for hours. Being mobbed by chickadees is one of my favorite things. You can hear them coming. There are extra “dees” on their call, a sign of alarm. Chickadees travel in flocks so you’ll hear one alarm, then another, and another as they move in, getting closer, calling their concern out to not only other chickadees but to other species that share the same space. They land up close and personal (another similarity to Canada jays) and stay until they satisfy their curiosity. And then, just like that, they’re gone.

A chickadee feather stuck on a birch whip.

A chickadee feather stuck on a birch whip.

Black-capped chickadee

Waiting for its turn at the feeder.

In addition to the “chick-a-dee-dee-dee” we all know, chickadee calls are “fee-bee,” one that used to make me think the phoebes were back unusually early in the spring. I heard a singing male this afternoon, about two weeks earlier than usual. I’ve never heard their high pitched, immediate danger call.

The black-capped chickadee’s diet consists of a 50/50 mix of plants and meat. Their meat is spiders (explains their fluttering against windows), insects and fat and meat from frozen animal carcasses. At my feeding station they prefer black oil sunflower seeds and suet. Most of the time they choose a seed and leave to eat it elsewhere. They arrive at the feeding station in flocks with one or two coming to the feeders while the rest land in the dormant hydrangea bushes. They take turns flying back and forth. Although traveling in flocks, they’re a bit territorial. Chickadees can remember thousands of places they’ve hidden food.

I’m not a great birder. I observe often. My desk sits in front of a window and the feeding station is only five feet away. Information I haven’t gathered myself is taken from All About Birds.

gorby, whiskey jack, camp robber, canada jay,

Canada Jay, Whiskey Jack and Camp Robber

The Canada jay (Perisoreus canadensis) is one of my favorite birds. They’re entertaining when I’m sitting in a tree stand while hunting or when walking through the woods. They’ll fly up from behind, land ten feet ahead of me, wait until I pass, chatter at me, and fly up from behind again. I get so distracted with these funny birds I’d probably not see a buck if it crossed the path in front of me. They amuse themselves with me as much as they amuse me. They don’t stay long when I’m in a tree stand. Once they’ve looked me over for a minute they go about their business.

canada jay, gray jay, camp robber, gorby, whiskey jack

The white underside of a Canada jay.

According to Cornell University’s website, All About Birds, “Gray Jays sing a “whisper song,” a series of soft melodious notes interspersed with quiet clicks, lasting up to a minute.” I haven’t heard their song. I have heard their whistles and chatters, and more than once I’ve fallen for their imitations of blue jays, pine grosbeaks and American crows. They mimic other birds as well. When they’re going to mob me to find out what I am, they’re noisy in the distance and continue to chatter while they land, look and move again around me.

Canada jay, gray jay, gorby, camp robber, lumberjack

Back on the tree again.

They’re a pretty bird with a white head that sports a black cap. Canada jays have varying degrees of dark to light gray wings, back and tail with a white/light gray body. They have a stocky body and short beak. When gliding, their wings are often lower than horizontal making them easy to identify in the air.

gorby,  whiskey jack, camp robber, canada jay,

He landed for just a few seconds.

Canada jays range from northern and eastern US into Canada. They’re found in mixed evergreen and deciduous forests. Members of the crow family, they aren’t picky eaters. They’ll eat berries, seeds, small animals such as mice and have carrion for dessert. They store food in trees for winter meals. They visit my yard, usually staying at the edge of the woods near the maple and ash trees, but never visit my feeders. I’m told they eat suet and seeds, raisins and food scraps left out for them.

canada jay, gray jay, whiskey jack

He flew from the field to this spot on the tree several times. I don’t know why.

Not everyone is as amused as I when it comes to Canada jays. For some folks, these busy birds are pests. They’ve earned nicknames such as meat bird, camp robber and bait thief. They’re also known as lumberjack because of their habit of visiting lumberjacks throughout the day, gorby and whiskey jack. I’ve heard stories of them stealing lumberjacks’ lunches when given the opportunity. I can picture this easily. They’re not shy, just the opposite. They’ll land on your head or shoulder, pull your hair and sit on your hand to eat if you’ll feed them.

Bald eagle ice fishing pickerel

Looking Forward to 2013

2013 will bring as much fun, excitement and new experiences as 2012 has provided me. I’ve chosen my Word of the Year and will tell you what I have in store for it in a post on January 1. I’m excited about the word. It involves the garden and outdoors.

Bald eagle ice fishing pickerel

This bald eagle is one of four we see often when ice fishing near our home.

Steve gave me a compound bow for Christmas. Other than to pick his up and try to draw back on it (I can’t.), I’ve never used a compound bow. Lots to learn! My bow is at Old Town Archery, waiting to be set up for me. I’m going to call ahead to make an appointment for a lesson. I know that I need to go in to have it set up, leave while they do their thing, and return to get it. I’m hoping to change that up a bit by staying to see what they do, and having a lesson when they’re done. I’m going to ask with the assurance that there’s no pressure to say yes to my request. Not everyone wants the pressure of a writer hanging over them while they work.

I’m going to try hare hunting on my new snowshoes for the first time, but first I have to get comfortable on the new snowshoes. Steve also gave me (and Taylor) a pair of Green Mountain snowshoes made by Upcountry Snowshoes for Christmas. They’re much bigger and heavier than my aluminum-framed pair. We have 7-14″ of heavy snow coming tomorrow. I’ll give it a day or two to settle then I’ll strap them on and see how badly I can embarrass myself.

2013 is not the year to launch into the book I mentioned earlier. It will require a lot of traveling, and this is not the time for me to travel. I have another idea though, and I’ll start working on it this afternoon to see if it will work.

Steve has wanted to go camping for years. I’m not a fan of sleeping in tents. By not a fan I mean, I’m a chicken. I don’t want to deal with a skunk trying to get in or even worse, a bear. I’m going to suck it up and do it. He does a lot for me. One of my Christmas gifts to him is a tent. We’re going camping.

I’m waiting impatiently for the ice to get thick enough for ice fishing. The snow that’s coming will slow the process but it won’t be long until there’s enough. Winter came early here this year. I’m reading to make the most of the season!

Thankfulness and Gratitude

At the end of the Thanksgiving weekend and beginning of the Christmas season, I have much to be thankful for.

It started with the makings of a Christmas wreath. It was 45* last Sunday afternoon. The air was still and the sky clear. I found a clean, empty grain bag in the shed and called to Ava, our English shepherd. “Let’s go tipping.” She, of course, knows nothing of tipping. She’s a dog. Ava is energetic and enthusiastic and will follow me anywhere. She’s a good companion in the woods. We walked to the back left corner of our open three acres of land, followed the grassy trail Steve keeps bush hogged, and onto another cleared trail. The second trail trail was made by a skidder in the winter of 1996/97 when our land, not ours at the time, was last logged. The ruts are deep and collect water, making small pools where wood frogs lay their eggs in the spring.

Ava explored while I walked from tree to tree, down the old rock wall that fell over long before we bought the land, snapping off the tips of balsam trees. I’m thankful for My Creative Diva’s interest in a how-to article on Christmas wreaths. This led me to thinking about the choice I made to give up market farming to pursue writing full time. It could have gone both ways, and thankfully it has gone well. I love what I do and I’ve had a good year. “Paying my dues,” is a phrase I’ve repeated many times in the past year. Without a college degree to prove my worth, I have to pay my dues. Mind you, I know a few college educated people holding writing degrees who can’t write a grocery list, but they’re worthy because they are educated. I’ve been paying my dues and I’m not for one second complaining. I’ve enjoyed the hard work.

Tipping is mindless work; snap the branch off in the right place with my right hand, pile tips on my left arm until I can’t balance them, place the pile on the ground. I go back to get them when I think I have enough to fill the grain bag. There’s a lot of peaceful time to think when I’m tipping.

I’m a little thankful that I miss being a market farmer. It means I enjoyed my work. I’m thankful that I still have two of the three high tunnels that I’ll continue to use to feed my family.

My land is nothing special, but at the same time, it is. I’m thankful that I can feed my family from my 45 acres. We have wild blackberries, raspberries and strawberries growing on our land. There aren’t a lot of any of them but I can make a batch of jam or jelly and eat the fruit fresh. The land supports cherry and apple trees that provide us with fruit, and apricot, peach and plum trees that will produce in a few years. I enjoy the wild mushrooms I pick each summer and fall. Snowshoe hare, partridge and bear give me opportunities to hunt on my own land. I can hunt for deer here but there are very few.

Even in dry years, my piece of land provides water. Natural springs dot a large portion of land close to the house. We can snowshoe to one particularly productive spring, lower a bucket through an opening in the four foot deep snow and pull up fresh, clean water.  We’d melt snow first, but I’m thankful for the option.

A large medical bill nagged at us soon after we bought the land. Steve borrowed a skidder. Talk about something to be thankful for—friends who have skidders and generously let us use one when needed. I learned to drive a skidder during the cedar cut. I’m thankful I didn’t hurt myself or break anything. I did turn the skidder into a unicorn when I drove over a 10′ log that somehow, through a series of magical moves as far as I can tell, speared itself to the front of the skidder and stuck up at an angle. Steve thought I’d probably driven the skidder enough and took over. I agreed. He cut cedar trees, sold them to a local sawmill and paid the bill in full.  Forty-two of our 45 acres are wooded. We can heat our home with wood from our woodlot if necessary.

Christmas wreath

This Christmas wreath has sprigs of cedar and pine wrapped in. It smells beautiful and will last well past Christmas day.

The balsam I harvest comes from wild trees I managed to supply the tons of tips I used to make thousands of Christmas wreaths. It’s been a good source of income at the end of the growing season, and one I can fall back on at any time. The cedar and pine I tuck into wreaths and the cones from the white pine trees I decorate with also grow here.

I’m thankful for all I’ve learned about nature here. I’ve learned wildlife tracks, habitat and habits. Dead trees provide homes for three kinds of woodpeckers that I can watch when they start peeking out of the tree in preparation for leaving the nest.

For our family and friends, our careers, the food on our table, warmth in our home, clothes on our backs, my 10 year old reliable vehicle, and the freedoms we’ve chosen, I am thankful.

Common Yellowthroat

I made a terrible mistake last week. Tammy and I were cutting garlic scapes when I found what I thought was a mouse nest. Before taking a second to think about it, I reached through the scapes and grabbed it. “It” was a nest with two almost ready to fledge common yellow throats. I felt terrible. I moved it six or eight inches before I realized what I’d done. The small birds tumbled to the ground and ran in different directions. The nest was just a few inches from the ground and the garlic is very thick after not being harvested last year. I wasn’t thinking.

A common yellowthroat with a meal in its beak.

I scrambled to put the nest back where it belonged, scooped a baby and placed it in the nest. It promptly hopped out and ran off again. I moved the nest to the ground, checked the carefully for the bird and backed away. They weren’t going to stay in the nest so I hoped for second best, that they’d return to the nest if I left them alone.

Both parents have been feeding the babies on the ground. They didn’t return to the nest. I hear them and see the parents disappear into the same place in the next row often. I’ll wait to cut the the scapes near their hiding spot until after the leave the…hiding place.

This common yellowthroat spends several hours in the early evening signing from a branch in our bonfire pile. We won’t be having a fire until I’m sure there isn’t a nest hiding away.

Ruby Throated Hummingbird

Donna, my step-mom, keeps a hummingbird feeder on the deck at camp. Hummingbirds are beautiful, tiny, sometimes vicious birds. Donna found one wedged between the base of the feeder and the perch after a particularly violent fight. It was in shock but after a little TLC, got its bearings and flew away.

A ruby throated hummingbird.

The original Angry Bird. He looks annoyed.

A ruby throated hummingbird in flight.

Yellow-Rumped Warbler

I’m still learning about birds. Thanks to Kirk for confirming my ID as a yellow-rumped warbler.

Yellow-Rumped Warbler

That Angry Partridge

In color, he has evil eyes.

The love lorn, angry-looking partridge was wooing a hen.

 

Wood Duck Nesting Boxes – by Steve Vose

Some of you might know Steve Vose as the Maine Outdoorsman. I met Steve when he applied to become a member of the board of directors of Friends of BOW. BOW is short for Becoming an Outdoors-Woman. Steve was voted onto the board. I think his story about taking his four year old niece fishing with his three and five year old sons impressed everyone at the meeting. Three kids ages five and under with sharp hooks make him both a super hero (his super power must be patience) and a brave man in my book.Steve recently blogged about putting up a wood duck nest box with his sons. I asked to share a link (I always do if photos of kids are involved) and he gave me permission to reblog his story.

Wood Duck Nest Boxes

by Steve Vose

Now that we finally have ice covering the lakes and ponds that can be “somewhat” trusted. The boys and I thought it would be fun to go out and put up this Wood Duck Nesting Box, provided by a friend. Unlike the common wooden nesting boxes, this one is made out of plastic. Though a different design than I am used to, I have no doubt that come Spring it will end up becoming home to a pair of woodies! The boys and I will enjoy going down to the flowage in the evenings and quietly watching the comings and goings of these colorful ducks!

When taking kids out to put up bird houses, bird feeders or nesting boxes, it is always a good opportunity to talk to them about wildlife conservation and how we all need to care for and nurture animals to make sure populations remain sustainable to all future generations. Though they might be small of stature, even the youngest minds are big on understanding and it is never too early to begin teaching these important ideals to the next generation of sportsmen.

The Wildman and The Savage with a wood duck box

The Wildman and The Savage with a wood duck box

The Wildman and The Savage with a wood duck box

Future Heroes of Conservation? The wood duck box on its post.

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