Back on the water

The Heron, our beloved canoe, is back on the water. It was sunny and 75 degrees in Bloomington today, and in spite of the gusty wind it seemed the perfect day to return to the lake after the long winter. It was a little difficult to get the canoe in the water because the sandy shore was so soft and wet, but soon we were out paddling, sticking close to shore because of the wind.

The trees are still bare, and the woods looks brown and bleak. Up close, you can see buds on the trees and the promise of grass on the ground. We didn't see many birds, although we could hear a few singing back in the woods. The only birds we could watch were the turkey vultures circling over the water. A lot of people dislike turkey vultures. They're not really beautiful by our standards, and they have a job to do that we'd rather not think too much about.

In spite of all that, I really like to watch them. They soar on the wind, gaining lift from the warm updrafts, and rarely flap their wings. They also fly low to the ground because they locate carrion by smell. They weigh about 4 lbs., (about half what an eagle weighs), and have a wingspan of 67-70 inches. They hold their wings in a distinctive V-shape, or dihedral, and you can see the white flight feathers underneath as they soar overhead. We watched about 20 of them circle overhead, and perch in the trees. We guessed that, as the sun went down, they might be gathering at a roosting site.



We canoed along the edge of the lake for awhile, sometimes fighting with the wind and sometimes suddenly blown sideways. Quite a bit of water splashed into the canoe, but the camera stayed dry in the dry bag my mom made for me out of a piece of oilcloth. It felt so good to be back on the water, to be out exploring together. Work is necessary and satisfying, and fulfilling on many levels. But for that lift of the heart, that urge to laugh as the wind musses your hair -- there's nothing like a lake, a canoe, and your own true love.

Counting the signs of spring

It's cold. It's surprising how cold it is, actually. After a recent warm-up, I assumed we were done with all that shivering and piling on the thick coats and hats. I stacked the new seed catalogs on the table and placed an order for heirloom calendula and zinnias. But the cold returned, and it's been about 20 degrees in Bloomington and in the teens in Chicago.

Nevertheless, I think I see some signs of spring in southern Indiana. Here is a quick list:

1. TULIPS! coming up in the front flower bed. They're about 2 inches high.
2. Great blue heron hanging around the creek near our house. This is very unusual. I wonder if he got lost on the way to Lake Monroe?
3. Robins have been seen for the past couple of weeks in Bloomington, and they finally showed up in our yard.
4. Red-winged blackbirds are back.
5. Birdsong in the morning. Lots of it. Carolina wrens will sing all winter, but they've been joined by cardinals, titmice, and others.
6. The cardinals (I counted 7 pairs on Sunday) are chasing each other all over the yard. The males are getting pretty fiesty.
7. Twice I've seen birds checking out the nearest birdhouse in our yard. I'm not sure what the first bird was, but the 2nd was definitely a chickadee.

Note that this list does not include warmer weather. And I forgot to check for buds on the trees. I hope to update this list soon!

A Rare Visitor

Look who dropped by the other day!

This Northern Flicker shows the distinctive black spots on the white breast. The black "moustaches" on the side of the face indicate a male.

The Northern Flicker is one of 7 woodpecker species found in Indiana, and a rare visitor to the back yard. In our area, flickers are yellow-shafted, which means that underwings and tail feathers are yellow, visible from below. This one stayed only a few minutes and was primarily interested in the hanging suet feeders in the walnut tree. This tree is our "woodpecker tree," a favorite of downy, hairy, red-headed, red-bellied, and pileated woodpeckers all winter. The one Indiana species of woodpecker we've never seen is the yellow-bellied sapsucker, a small woodpecker that really does eat sap.

Flickers, like all woodpeckers, eat insects when they're available, and their favorite food is ants. They will forage on the ground or in trees, and will take berries or seeds when they can't get ants. They are monogamous, nest in cavities, and won't be persuaded to use nest boxes. They often migrate a bit south in the winter, but in Indiana they're present all year round.

When I spotted the flicker in our yard, I made a grab for the camera and hung out the window to catch a shot. My photos aren't really very good and don't do justice to this beautiful bird. I hope he'll come back soon so I can try again.

Yard Alarm

A lot of people don't like blue jays. They can be aggressive toward smaller birds, and are known to eat the eggs of other birds. They're loud, raucous, in-your-face birds.

But sometimes that's a good thing. Yesterday, we suddenly heard a blue-jay commotion out in the back yard. It sounded like every jay in the neighborhood was right outside our door. Cat? I wondered, as I peered out the kitchen window. No, not a cat -- a HAWK! Sitting in our woodpeckers' favorite tree, big and supremely confident, he surveyed our yard, looking for an easy meal.

All the birds had long since scattered. Not a bird to be seen anywhere, and none to be heard, except for those blue jays. They kept up the alarm until after the hawk had flown off, still hungry (thank goodness).

As for me, since the birds were safe, I made a grab for the camera, but missed him. He came back later in the day, and once again, the yard alarm went off, but I missed him again. It was probably a Cooper's Hawk, as far as I could tell, although there are a few hawks that are similar. Here is one I photographed last year in Illinois.

I would feel terrible if our bird feeders turned into hawk feeders. As far as I'm concerned, the blue jays are very welcome at our place!

Sleepy Finch

Birds sleep in the oddest places. Spurning our attempts to provide a warm place to sleep, they prefer an open branch out in the cold.

Several months ago, my mate-4-life designed and built a roosting box for the little birds in our back yard. It's a beautifully constructed box complete with heating coil embedded in the floor, and it keeps the box about 30 degrees warmer than the coldest nights, with an upper limit of 50 degrees (we wouldn't want to toast the little guys, after all). It is an engineering marvel. But the "Birdie Hotel," as we call it, seems to remain unused.

I hung a little plant saucer from the hotel and filled it with sunflower seeds, thinking that the free food might draw attention to the comfortable roost just above. So what do we find? The hanging saucer itself has become a favorite roosting spot for this little house finch. He sleeps, fluffed up against the cold with his beak tucked in, on the edge of the dish, or sometimes inside it. Go figure.

Just passing through

Birding is a constant reminder of the shifting seasons. In September, we started to see more of the "winter birds" that frequent our backyard -- cardinals, finches, chickadees, and woodpeckers, most of all. We had already said goodbye to the beautiful Indigo Buntings, with regret. Now the hummingbirds seem to have left as well.

But the past few weeks have been the height of warbler season. Like smart tourists, warblers pass through Indiana on their way somewhere else. They eat insects, not seeds, so I'm not expecting them at my feeders, but in the spring and fall there are brief periods in which the woods are full of them. Some stay high in the treetops and are difficult to see without a birding scope, but others will come down to forage in the shrubs.

Saturday and Sunday, we floated quietly along the shore of Lake Monroe, tracking a little group of warblers as they hunted for bugs in the exposed tree roots. The pictures aren't perfect -- just try steadying a telephoto lens in a rocking canoe sometime!--but good enough for the moment. The picture at the top of this entry is a female Blackburnian Warbler. The male, when he's in breeding plumage in the spring, is even more striking, with a bright orange throat -- but I'll have to wait until spring to look for that.

This one is a Bay-Breasted Warbler. Note the pale pinkish-red along the sides. We saw several of these, all travelling together along the shore. There was also a Carolina Wren with the group for awhile. None of these birds seemed to mind us being so near, as long as we stayed in the canoe just off shore.

A couple of weekends ago we saw a Northern Parula, another warbler, at Lake Greenwood. We had been looking for a green heron, but hey! this was a great find. Part of the excitement of birding is that we never know what we'll see. I can't wait for next time!

Hummingbird season

It's time for hummingbirds! This is the height of fall hummingbird activity in our area. They're stopping by our back yards and gardens to fuel up before making the long journey to Mexico and other southern areas, where they winter.

The photo above was taken in my butterfly bed, and shows a hummingbird on a Tithonia flower. (The bird is either a female or a first-year male; the ruby throat appears after a male's first winter.) They're also visited cardinal climber flowers, zinnias, and our snowball bush. All the books advise planting red petunias and other trumpet-shaped flowers, but I've seen them visit a wide variety of flowers. This is the first year I've planted Tithonia, and I had intended it to draw butterflies, but the hummers were an unexpected bonus.

We have 3 feeders, spread out so that one very territorial male can't monopolize them all. We occasionally see a mid-air encounter near one of the feeders, involving spread tail feathers and lots of chattering. We keep the feeders up through the end of October. Although most hummers will have migrated south by then, there could be a few stragglers who will need the extra fuel. There is a common myth that keeping feeders up too long will discourage hummingbirds from migrating -- this is not true! They hang around just as long as they need to, and will migrate when they're ready.

I stopped writing this blog when we went on vacation, and it's been hard to get back in the groove. Over the next few posts, I hope to write about some of the birds we went looking for last month.