Just Another Goose Post

I’m a bit of a schizophrenic birder when it comes to policing my patch on the Chesapeake Bay. In the front yard my feeders attract birds, (and squirrels) and supply nonstop entertainment through the window as I sit at the desk and write this. These are the typical passerines you all see, cardinals, jays, finches, chickadees, and titmice, with an occasional woodpecker or nuthatch thrown in to make it more interesting. On the waterside of the house however, it is very different. I’ve declared war on the dock, boat, and swimming pool desecrators, and those large birds that feed off my grass. We’re talking gulls, terns, and osprey, on the dock and those pesky Canada Geese fouling the pool and denuding the lawn.

Tufted Titmouse, Baeolophus atricristatus

A real birder and naturalist would welcome them all and put up with the guano and a mudflat for a lawn, as he or she observed our avian friends. They would tell me that I have invaded the their space and that I should be thankful that the birds even allow me a home on the bay. Not me. Recently my warfare has escalated and I believe that I have won, at least the latest battle.

Laughing Gull, Larus atricilla

It’s election season and time to exercise our democratic right to vote. It’s a time for patriotism and flag waving, or in my case, banner waving. For less than $20 you can purchase red, white, and blue, star-spangled windsocks. With perhaps a 10% split for patriotic fervor, and 90% for bird deterrence, I’ve hung them on poles up and down the dock and on the sailboat stays. It has helped somewhat, at least when the wind’s blowing. I still haven’t solved the flyover bombardment, though.

Carolina Chickadee, Poecile carolinensis

My greater victory has been against those nasty Canada Geese. James Michener in his classic novel “Chesapeake”, waxed poetic about these birds, mating for life, and traveling great distances from the arctic tundra to grace us with their temporary presence every fall and winter. That was before the geese learned that migration was not everything it was cracked up to be; why not just stay put on Steve’s lawn all year, get fat and happy, and raise a big family of sedentary resident goslings. The number of these non-migrators has skyrocketed and I hear grumbling even from my nature loving neighbors. After spending big bucks to reseed the lawn this fall I decided to try a new approach.

Canada Goose, Branta canadensis

On the way home from Blackwater Refuge in Dorchester County, a flat, rural land of large farms and fields, I noticed huge, perhaps 6 feet tall, Bald Eagles scattered throughout a field. From a distance they looked real, but obviously were not, at least to this discerning human. They were tall plywood birds, presumably erected to keep out the geese and save the crops. Why not give this a try at home?

A trip to Loew’s for 3 sheets of 2×4 foot plywood, a few cans of paint, and after the resurrection of some latent artistic skills (with a big assist from the spouse), I had three Bald Eagle decoys ready to go. My only blunder was the way too small feet and talons that can be corrected on later editions. These likenesses will not upstage Audubon, but everyone has to start somewhere.

Previously my typical day involved 3 or more mad dashes out the door, waving my arms to shoo away the 50-75 feeding geese, and even a few that were bold enough to lounge around the pool closer to the house. They would just honk a little, briefly fly away by making a wide circle, and return as soon as I went indoors. The recent addition of the migrating crowd to the resident geese made things even worse. But now, 3 weeks after the erection of the Bald Eagles I have not had a single Canada Goose land! They fly over, look, and keep going. Now the question is how long can I keep this deception going.

Bald Eagle, Haliaeetus leucocephalus

My first step has been to occasionally move the eagles to keep the geese off balance. Unfortunately my bluebirds are threatening to blow my cover. This week these beautiful passerines have been perching on the eagles’ heads and soiling my paint job. Zippity-doo-dah. I’m afraid the geese will notice the boldness of these little birds and finally realize that they’ve been duped. How is it that a little bluebird brain has figured this all out but the much larger goose brain has not. Size is not everything when it comes to birdbrains. I’m considering marketing these effective decoys, so don’t tell anyone about my invention. Maybe it will finance my retirement. If you check on-line you’ll see that people spend big bucks on devices to scare off geese.

Today we had another unexpected benefit from the decoys. A beautiful adult Bald Eagle landed near one of his plywood brothers to have a closer look. What was he thinking? Was he amazed at this amazon-sized relative, intimidated, or perhaps just being a critic of my paint job? I don’t think I’ve ever been closer to one of our national birds and grabbed this shot through the window.

Bald Eagle

It was all so patriotic with waving red, white, and blue banners, real and fake eagles on the lawn, election day fast approaching, and finally, beautiful green grass. I’ll permit the geese to also admire it all, but only from the neighbor’s yard.

Trash Birds

Herring Gull, Larus argentatus

 

These are the birds no one loves.  They’re numerous, obnoxious, and ubiquitous.  We often do not even tick them off on our eBird lists; why bother?  Most do not migrate; we’re stuck with them all year long.  Monthly the National Audubon Society scares us with a growing list of near-extinctions, but these birds never make the list.  Despite our efforts to pollute and destroy habitats, these birds thrive.

House Sparrow, Passer domesticus

But, “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure”.  If you don’t believe this just watch a couple episodes of the Antique Roadshow on PBS.  A little research can reveal beauty, wonder, and maybe even some monetary reward in even the most unlikely of candidates.  With this in mind this post tries to uncover a few redeeming qualities in my list of trash birds, at least in the beauty and wonder departments.

Eurasian Tree Sparrow, Passer montanus

Take the House Sparrow, please.  Previously known as the English Sparrow, it was introduced to New York in 1851, and we are still wondering why.  This aggressive Old World sparrow is a native of Eurasia and northern Africa and has enjoyed phenomenal success in North America.  The lookalike cousin across the pond is the Eurasian Tree Sparrow.  Its strategy has been to seek out urban centers, crowded sidewalk cafes, and virtually any man-made structure.  You can’t say the male is ugly with its gray head, black beard, and brown and white highlights.  The female is just another difficult to identify LBJ, (little brown job).

Rock Dove, Columba livia

Speaking of urban-loving birds transplanted to us from Europe, Africa, and India, you can count the feral Pigeon.  In more polite circles they are known as Rock Doves.  We are partly to blame for their success, domesticating them for their homing tendencies.  As we all know they have taken over our park benches, school yards, and sky scraper ledges.  A few have attempted to return to their rural roots, nesting on coastal cliffs and mountainsides, but the vast majority still cling to us humans and our cities.  Their redeeming feature is the great variety of iridescent feathers and that striking red eye.

Boat-tailed Grackle, Quiscalus major

Next there are the Grackles.  Just the name reminds one of their irritating call that mimics a rusty gate desperately in need of oil.  They often travel in wolf-like packs, swarming the feeder and driving off the shier passerines.  They have single handedly caused me to shut down the feeders in the warm weather.  One can only afford so many bags of sunflower seeds on a fixed retirement income.  You have to look closely to reveal their beauty, also found in the iridescent plumage and piercing golden eye of the male Common Grackle.  The less common cousins, the Boat-tailed and Great-tailed, share similar assets and  liabilities.

Ring-billed Gulls, Larus delawarensis

Sea Gulls have lost the “sea” in their name and have moved inland following our human trash, dumps, waste water treatment plants, and McDonalds parking lots.  For a birder to become an expert observer of this confusing family of lookalikes, he or she must become gullible.  They’ll take you to some of the most acrid and non-picturesque places on the planet and your reward will be a squabbling colony of black, white, and shades of gray.  You’ll have to hope for the chills and thrills of finding a rarity amidst that flock of a thousand scavengers.

European Starling, Sturnus vulgaris

We could drop the “European” from the name of our only Starling in North America, but keep it as a reminder of where this “gift” came from in 1890.  It has taken over the continent with vast flocks forming in the fall and winter.  It crowds out other birds in both the urban centers and rural farmlands, competing with other more welcome cavity nesters.  They are persistent.  I’ve now removed their nest from my boat-lift motor six times this spring, the last time despite a new protective screen.  They pecked right through it.  On a sunny day, when I’m feeling upbeat, I can appreciate the metallic hues given off by their feathers, decorated with a sprinkle of dots.  The yellow bill of the summertime male adds a nice contrast.  I’m trying to be kind.

Brown-headed Cowbird, Molothrus ater

Remember the phrase, “a face only a mother could love”?  The maternal Brown-headed Cowbird must have forgotten it.  She just clandestinely deposits her eggs in another innocent passerine’s nest and moves on, without even gazing upon the face of her offspring.  These brood parasites have developed a successful policy of avoiding the hard work of parenthood.  You have to admire their audacity or perhaps find some pleasure in their contrasting brown and black coloration, but its hard to find anything good to say about them.

American Crow, Corvus brachyrhynchos

We’re frequently told that Crows are among the smartest of all birds, but intelligence is no excuse and protector from being on my trash list.  There is a reason that a flock of these birds is called a “murder” of crows.  When’s the last time you saw a crow sitting innocently on a wire, just enjoying life.  They’re always chasing or being chased, raising a raucous, or attacking a poor songbird.  Perhaps you can admire their energy, but they are a constant reminder that intelligence does not always breed contentment.

Herring Gull, Larus argentatus

So there you have it, my list of trash birds.  I suspect this post will find disfavor among my birding friends who find beauty in all the creation.  On a good day I am among their ranks, but lately my tolerance level has been tested.  Here’s to better days ahead.

Bird Humor

 

In times like these we need a little humor in our lives.  There are escalating terror attacks worldwide, the threat of nuclear weapons in hostile hands, and coarsened political discourse and strife.  We used to avoid discussions of just politics and religion at cocktail parties, but now add entertainment venues such as late-night comedy, movies, concerts, and news broadcasts to that list.  You could always start a conversation with, “Nice warm day we’re having”.  Not any more.  Feelings are running high, too high.

Brown Thrasher, Toxostoma rufum           (Click on photos to enlarge)

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m not dismissing the seriousness of these issues that face our country and the world, but the hyperbole and hysteria have become tiresome.  It’s time to dial it back.  Although I have my own political leanings, I’ll not use this birding and photography blog to express them.  Rather, this space is an escape from all that.

Black Skimmer, Rynchops niger

So let’s step back and hear some benign bird jokes.  I’ve screened them for hidden meanings and believe they are all politically correct.  I’ve been accused of having the sense of humor arrested at the 8 year-old level, so I hope my grandson and his crowd can also enjoy this post.  The pictures were chosen from the recent archives.

Wild Turkeys, Meleagris gallopavo

How do you keep a turkey in suspense?  I’ll tell you later.

Laughing Gull, Larus atricilla

I understand a crow has one less pinion feather than a raven.  Then, how do you tell a crow from a raven?  It’s a matter of opinion.

American Crow, Corvus brachyrhynchos

How many birds does it take to change a light bulb?  Toucan do it.

Baltimore Oriole, Icterus galbula

What do you get when you cross a chicken with a duck?  A bird that lays down.

Northern Pintail, Anas acuta

A Frenchman with a parrot on his shoulder walks into a bar.  The bartender asks, “where did you get that thing”?  The parrot replies,  “In France, there are millions of them there”.

Rose-ringed Parakeet, Psittacula krameri

How did the gum cross the road?  It was stuck to the chicken’s foot.

Chestnut-sided Warbler, Dendroica pensylvanica

That is a new bird for me; what does an Eastern Gulp look like?  Like a swallow, only noisier.

Barn Swallow, Hirundo rustica

And lastly, my favorite, repeated far too often to my groaning family and friends:  Why do hummingbirds hum?  Because they forgot the words.

Anna’s Hummingbird, Calypte anna

So there; a little respite from our troubled world.  But I’m still an optimist, better times are ahead.