Tag Archives: Birdwatching

Birds have developed ways of dealing with cold

David Ellis/USFWS • A common redpoll feasts on stiff goldenrod seed. These small finches can endure temperatures 100 degrees below freezing.

With the arrival of January, we can probably be assured of some cold weather. I’m not fond of the cold, but I can put on gloves and a thicker coat and I am good to go.

What about our feathered friends? How do birds cope when temperature plummet below freezing?

Birds actually employ a range of strategies and behaviors that keep them cozy even during the worst that winter can hurl at them.

Some birds avoid the necessity of coping with cold by migrating. All those tropical species that brighten the warmer seasons in the mountains of Southern Appalachia withdraw to warmer areas in Central and South America during the winter.

Those birds that elect not to put distance between themselves and cold temperatures must do something to stay warm. Feathers are one of a bird’s defining traits, and they can do a neat trick with their feathers to stay warm. You’ve probably seen them do this. They will fluff their feathers, trapping air between them to provide insulation. If you’ve ever noticed that some birds look “fatter” in extreme cold it’s likely because they have fluffed up to combat the cold.

Of course, feathers require good maintenance to help with the task of staying warm, and birds are diligent about such tasks. Preening feathers on a routine basis keeps them watertight and able to hold in heat. Some birds even grow extra feathers in autumn to prepare for cold temperatures. That’s similar to dogs or cats growing a denser coat of fur in anticipation of wintry temperatures.

Birds have different comfort levels when its comes to personal space, but many of the more sociable species will huddle together. You’ve probably seen nature documentaries of penguins in the Antarctic as they huddle together for weeks on end to endure the harsh conditions of the globe’s southernmost continent.

Larger species of birds, such as geese and grouse, eat more and gain weight, which is often achieved by the storage of body fat.

Other birds have also adopted the huddling strategy in a cozy cavity or nest box. My most vivid recollection of an observation of this strategy involved Eastern bluebirds. During a severe cold snap accompanied by snow and blustery winds, I watched multiple bluebirds enter one of my nesting boxes. I’m not sure how many entered the box, but it was likely about eight to 10 birds.

Necessity makes birds adaptable. The next day the aforementioned high winds took down the post that held the nest box. At dusk the bluebirds showed up again. They looked baffled to find the box had disappeared. Then I saw them fluttering into an old tire that I had used at the base of the pole to help anchor the box. Faced with oncoming darkness, they chose to huddle together inside the old tire.

Natural cavities in trees also provide cozy roosting spaces for birds. Chickadees and titmice, nuthatches and woodpeckers seek out such cavities ahead of time so they will always be ensured of a warm space during bouts of inclement weather.

The biological mechanism of torpor is one that’s probably familiar to fans of hummingbirds, but other small birds can also take steps to lower their body temperature. Chickadees and kinglets put this ability to good use. In these small birds, the adaptation being employed is known as controlled hypothermia. Chickadees can drop their body temperature by as much as 22 degrees below normal daytime body temperature.

Snakes and reptiles can enter a physical state called brumation, where they sleep more but still wake to eat, drink and enjoy the sun on warmer days, according to information on the Facebook page of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Since snakes are cold-blooded, they’re lethargic at these colder temperatures even when they’re on the move.

Hibernation, although a strategy widely used by mammals, is rare in birds. The common poorwill (a relative of whip-poor-will and chuck-will’s-widow – is the only bird known to go into torpor for extended periods that can range from weeks to months. On the southern edge of their range in the United States, poorwills spend much of the winter hibernating, usually concealed in rock piles.

There’s warmth in numbers. Crows, starlings, robins and other species will gather in communal roosts to use body warmth to stay warm overnight. Sometimes these roosts are quite large and can lead to conflict with nearby humans who may not want the noise and mess that comes with hosting a large flock of birds.

While warm socks and gloves protect human toes and fingers, birds don’t have to worry about frostbite. Quick circulation means that blood does not linger in their feet long enough to freeze. In addition, the legs and feet of birds are covered in scales. Like feathers, the scales provide excellent insulation.

Some birds will gather together in large stands of evergreens. I’ve observed house sparrows gathering in the holly trees outside the courthouse in downtown Erwin at dusk on cold evenings.

There are things we can do to help. Plant evergreen trees or construct a brush pile that will provide shelter from the elements, as well as a measure of safety from predators, for the birds that share our lawns and gardens.

Many people already feed birds. Try supplementing seeds with some food rich in fat. Birds, unlike us, will not be adversely affected by a high-fat diet. Their metabolism allows them to burn off the extra calories in an enviable amount of time. Some high-fat foods that birds will love include peanut butter and beef suet, as well as peanuts and other assorted nuts. While it’s relatively simple to render suet into a usable for for birds, most people cannot be blamed for turning to commercially made suet cakes. Many of these are also made even more appealing with a mix of peanuts or fruit into the suet cake. The extra calories derived from these foods will let birds better regulate their body temperature and tolerate the more frigid nights.

It’s also important to provide liquid water for birds. Outdoor heaters designed to fit into a birth bath can help prevent the water from freezing during cold snaps.

Birds will also appreciate a sunny spot. By basking in sunshine, they can also boost their internal temperature.

Some birds are just built for cold. For example, snowy owls have been observed in temperatures 80 degrees below zero. Species of redpolls, a type of finch, can endure temperatures 100 degrees below freezing.

Emperor penguins live and nest in some of the most inhospitable terrain on the planet. Those who have viewed the documentary film “March of the Penguins” will be familiar with the species. Their colonies on the ice in the Antarctic must endure temperatures than can plunge to -40 degrees Farenheit. They must also survive frigid winds that can reach 90 miles per hour.

Emperor penguins have several adaptation to help them survive such cold conditions, according to the World Wildlife Fund. These penguins have two layers of feathers, a reserve of fat and beaks and flippers that are proportionally smaller than those for other penguin species.

Lee Karney/USFWS • The common raven can live in a range of habitats, but these large and intelligent birds are especially adapted to cold.

The common raven is another bird that shrugs off cold and snow. They can survive and thrive in habitats as varied as Arctic tundra and scorching deserts. If temperatures drop below -4 degrees Farenheit, ravens can generate extra body heat.

All things considered, birds are simply better at coping with cold than we are.

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Bryan Stevens has written about birds since 1995. To ask a question, make a comment or share a bird sighting, email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Birds made headlines in 2024 for various reasons

Photo from Pixabay • The bald eagle became official with President Joe Biden’s signature on Dec. 24, 2024.

As we move into a new year, I thought it might be a good time to look back at some bird-related headlines from 2024.

Status delayed

Who knew? For nearly two and a half centuries, Americans have believed that the bald eagle was the official bird of the United States.

Such status, at least officially, was never actually bestowed on the bald eagle.

On Monday, Dec. 16, the U.S. House of Representatives passed a bill amending the U.S. Code to officially designate the bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) as the country’s national bird. It only took 242 years to get around to making the eagle’s status official. The bald eagle has been considered the national bird of the United States since 1782, when it was placed with outspread wings on the Great Seal of the nation. The bird had always seemed official, appearing in many government institutions and on official documents, making it the most pictured bird in all of America. But until the recent House vote, nothing had ever been done legislatively to sanction the eagle’s status.

President Joe Biden signed into law the legislation sent to him by Congress that amended the U.S. Code to correct what had long gone unnoticed. At the stroke of a pen, Biden’s signature now officially designates the bald eagle as the official national bird. He took the action on Christmas Eve, Dec. 24.

A man named Preston Cook discovered the oversight regarding the eagle’s lack of government sanction and spearheaded the push to belatedly provide the bald eagle with official status as the national bird. For the full story on how this came about, visit https://www.audubon.org/magazine/bald-eagle-about-officially-become-our-national-bird-thanks-man.

Common murres and The Blob

A seabird common in coastal Alaska suffered the biggest die-off in recorded history, according to a report issued late this year. An estimated 4 million common murres died in Alaska due to a climate phenomenon dubbed “The Blob.” The number represents about half the population of the species in Alaska. The Blob was a large mass of relatively warm water in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of North America that was first detected in late 2013 and continued to spread throughout 2014 and 2015. Now, ten years later, studies on the extent of the devastation to common murres and other marine life is becoming more apparent.

Bird Flu

Bird flu spreads. Some of its latest victims, other than domestic chickens and cattle, include wild cougars in Oregon. This could very well become a major bird-related story in 2025 as well.

Another curlew lost

North America’s Eskimo curlew has not been seen since 1987 when one was sighted in Nebraska. The species was declared endangered in 1966. Most expert believe the species is gone.

Now, a close relative in Europe has also joined the Eskimo curlew in that bleak oblivion. The slender-billed curlew was declared extinct in 2024, although the last confirmed sighting of the species probably took place as far back as 1995.

It’s the first mainland European species to go extinct in more than 500 years. Hunting and habitat loss were cited in some reports as the main cause for the decline of a species that was also apparently never abundant to begin with.

New species

While birds seem to be declining, it’s still possible to discover new species. Three new species of bird were recognized by science in 2024, These species are Timor nightjar, white-tailed tityra and Ascension night heron. The tityra was first discovered in Brazilian rainforest bordering Peru in 1829, and then promptly vanished. In 2006 and 2022, however, new sightings were documented of the species.

Wisdom and perseverance

Wisdom, a Laysan albatross documented as the oldest known banded bird in the wild, returned to familiar territory on March 18, 2024, being spotted on Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge. She had also returned without her longtime mate to the Refuge in November of 2021. Since that time, she appears to have been seeking a replacement mate.

She is at least 74 years old. She was first identified in 1956 by wildlife biologist Chandler Robbins, who banded her with the number Z333. In November 2024, Wisdom was spotted with a new mate and incubating another egg.

Biologists estimated that Wisdom has laid some 30 to 40 eggs in her lifetime. Most hatched successfully and and she has been a mother to at least 30 to 36 chicks.

Wisdom defied the odds when she and her chick survived the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami that killed an estimated 2,000 adult Laysan and black-footed albatrosses and an estimated 110,000 chicks at the Refuge. Here’s hoping that Wisdom continues to prevail despite what life has seen fit to throw her way.

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Best wishes in 2025. To ask me a question, share a sighting or make a comment, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Cardinal a natural symbol for Christmas

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A male Northern cardinal visits a feeder on a snowy afternoon.

Merry Christmas. This week’s newspaper is coming out on Christmas Day and, as is my usual custom on this holiday, I want to share my enthusiasm for the Northern cardinal, one of my favorite birds.

I’ve also come to believe that the cardinal is also an excellent feathered symbol for the Christmas holiday. Anyone who provides sunflower seeds at a bird feeder has most likely received visits from this bird.

Individual cardinals around my home have become very accustomed to my presence. Some of them have even learned my routine and know when to anticipate my daily stocking of the feeders with sunflower seeds.

I have always enjoyed watching cardinals. The beauty of both male and female cardinals is undeniable. They’re usually nervous, twitchy birds, so it has been fun watching some of the resident cardinals grow accepting of my presence.

The Northern cardinal, especially the brilliant red male, stands out against a winter backdrop of snow white, deep green or drab gray. Over the years, the cardinal has also become associated with the Christmas season.

How many Christmas cards have you received this holiday season with a cardinal featured in the artwork? I’d wager that at least a few cards in any assortment of holiday greetings will feature the likeness of a Northern cardinal.

There is a possible reason that male cardinals try to outshine each other when it comes to their bright red plumage. According to the website Tennessee Watchable Wildlife, brighter red male cardinals are able to hold territories that have denser vegetation, feed young at higher rates and have greater reproductive success than males with feathers of a duller hue.

The Northern cardinal belongs to a genus of birds known as Cardinalis in the family Cardinalidae. There are only two other species in this genus, and they range across North America and into northern South America. The two relatives are the pyrrhuloxia, or Cardinalis sinuatus, of the southwestern United States, and the Vermilion cardinal, or phoeniceus, a bird found in Colombia and Venezuela.

The Northern cardinal is a native and abundant bird. Cardinals are a widespread species, ranging westward to the Dakotas and south to the Gulf Coast and Texas. The southeastern United States was once the stronghold of the cardinal population. In the 20th century, however, cardinals have expanded their range into New England and Canada.

The cardinal accepts a wide variety of food at feeders. Sunflower seed is probably their favorite, but they will also sample safflower seed, cracked corn, peanuts, millet, bakery scraps and even suet. While we may get the idea that cardinals feed largely on seed, that is a misconception based on our observation of the birds at our feeders. Cardinals away from our feeders eat insects and fruit, including the berries of mulberry, holly, pokeberry, elderberry, Russian olive, dogwood and sumac.

The cardinal uses its large beak to efficiently hull sunflower seeds or deal with other foods foraged in field and forest away from our feeders. The large, heavy beak hints at the cardinal’s kinship with birds such as tanagers and grosbeaks.

In fact, some of America’s early naturalists referred to the bird as “cardinal grosbeak.” Other common names include the apt “redbird” moniker and “Virginia nightingale.”

Even once the holidays are past, there’s nothing like a glimpse of a Northern cardinal to add some cheer to a bleak winter day. It’s not surprising that such a popular bird has also become associated with many trappings of the Christmas season.

“You see cardinals on greeting cards, stationery, paper plates, paper napkins and tablecloths, doormats, light switch plates, candles, candle holders, coffee mugs, plates, glasses, Christmas tree ornaments and lights, bookmarks, mailboxes, Christmas jewelry,” writes June Osborne in “The Cardinal,” a book about this popular bird.

“And the list goes on,” Osborne writes. “Cardinals have become an integral part of the way that many people celebrate the holiday season.”

I can be included among such people. My Christmas decorations include an assortment of cardinal figurines and ornaments. There are other birds — doves and penguins for example — associated with the holiday season, but for me the holidays magnify the importance of one of my favorite birds. The cardinal, in its festive red plumage, appears made to order for a symbol of the holiday season.

I’m hoping you enjoy your Christmas and that at least a few cardinals and other birds fly your way.

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Bryan Stevens has written about birds and birding since 1995. Email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com to share a sighting, ask a question or make a comment.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A female Northern cardinal forages for seeds in the snow.

 

Winter season offers a chance to get to know special little wren

 

 

 

Willfried Wende/Pixabay • Outside of the Americas, there is only one species of wren. In the Americas, this wren is known as the winter wren.

Note: I’m on vacation. Please enjoy this column originally published in December of 2017.

Of late, every time I step outside my front door I’ve incurred the ire of a winter wren that’s taken up residency in my yard. This wren is a tiny bird among a family of birds known for small size, but it makes its presence known in unmistakable terms.

For starters, the winter wren is a noisy bird. The one living at my home arrived in late November and immediately claimed a niche to call its own. Any intrusion is met with a scolding chatter as the wren scurries low to the ground to drop out of view. In fact, the winter wren’s a very terrestrial bird. Observers are just as likely to see one of these wrens run across the ground as they are to see it take flight. I’m hopeful he will remain as winter’s grip tightens for the next couple of months.

The website All About Birds, managed by The Cornell Lab of Ornithology, offers advice on making a wren-friendly yard. “Landscaping with native plants is a good way to provide habitat for winter wrens,” according to the website. Other steps to take could extend to creating brush piles and ensuring some sections of the yard offers dense vegetation. The website also notes that this wren is often found making its home near streams.

In the summer, the winter wren often nests atop some of the high-elevation mountains in the region, especially ones with abundant fir and spruce trees. Otherwise, it’s mostly a winter visitor in the region. Other wrens common to the region include the Carolina wren and the house wren. In suitable habitats, especially during fall and spring migration, two other wrens — marsh wren and sedge wren — are observed occasionally in the region. Other wrens native to the United States include the rock wren, canyon wren, cactus wren, Pacific wren and Bewick’s wren.

The world’s 88 species of wrens are, for the most part, the quintessential “little brown birds,” but that hasn’t kept them from acquiring some interesting and descriptive common names. Some examples include the tooth-billed wren, flutist wren, riverside wren, whiskered wren, happy wren, musician wren, timberline wren, speckle-breasted wren, white-breasted wood wren and giant wren. The last species on the list resides in Mexico and is indeed a “giant” among a family of tiny birds, reaching a length of almost nine inches and weighing all of 1.8 ounces.

For the most part, wrens are birds of the New World. In fact, only the Eurasian wren represents the family in Europe, Asia and Africa. Experts recently split the winter wren into several different species, including the Pacific wren of the west coast of North America and the Eurasian wren of Europe, Asia and Africa.

Just as the winter wren thinks nothing of acting like a mouse when scurrying through leaf litter and over fallen logs in search of insect prey, this bird doesn’t hesitate to imitate mice by poking into shadowy holes in the ground or exploring the dark crevices of fallen logs. When winter temperatures drop sharply, many of these birds may cram themselves into a roosting hole to benefit from the communal heat from so many tiny feathered bodies in such close proximity. Winter wrens eat mostly insects and spiders, but in winter these birds will also eat some seeds and berries. Winter wrens rarely visit feeders, but a suet cake often attracts birds with similar dietary preferences, including kinglets and chickadees. A larger relative, the Carolina wren, is a common visitor to feeders.

In English and German lore, the winter wren was known as the “king of the birds.” Different tales provide varying explanations for how such a small bird earned such an inflated title. Ritual hunts were enacted in some European locations. These hunts, known as “wren hunts,” were conducted by “wren boys” who would parade through town on their quests. Wren Day fell on Dec. 26, which coincided with the holiday St. Stephen’s Day. Some myths blame the noisy bird for betraying the hiding place of Stephen, who was delivered up as a Christian martyr to his enemies due to the bird’s treachery. In some European cultures, various superstitions sprang up about wrens. For instance, in Scotland it is considered extremely unlucky to kill a wren.

Personally, I feel lucky to have the tiny winter wren spending time around my home and can guarantee no “wren hunts” will be staged here. At a time of year when feathered friends can be scarce, a winter wren is a welcome visitor.

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Bryan Stevens has written about birds and birding since 1995. Email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com to ask a question, share a bird sighting or make a comment.

Kinglets are tiny birds with huge appeal

Photo by Beth McPherson • A golden-crowned kinglet recovers in the photographer’s hand after striking a window.

With the recent cold weather, I’ve been seeing a few golden-crowned kinglets, as well as the closely related ruby-crowned kinglet, at my home.

Golden-crowned kinglets are fairly common winter birds. Ruby-crowned kinglets, although not always as common as their relative, also are found in the region during the winter season.

Both the golden-crowned and ruby-crowned kinglets are members of a family of tiny birds known collectively as kinglets and firecrests. They’re such tiny, energetic birds that they absolutely excel with the “cuteness” factor.

All kinglets are very tiny birds, as well as extremely active ones. They are also the only members of this family of birds found in North America. Four other species, however, are native to Europe, Asia and North Africa. The remaining species include goldcrest, common firecrest, Madeira firecrest and flamecrest, which is also known as the Taiwan firecrest.

Kinglets, as their name suggests, are tiny birds. In fact, about the only North American birds smaller than kinglets are some of the hummingbirds. The kinglets belong to the family, Regulidae, and the genus, Regulus. The family and genus names are derived from a Latin word, regulus, which means “rex,” or “king.” The name was apparently inspired by the colorful crown patches, often red, orange or gold, that resemble the royal “crowns” of kings.

Although similar in size and overall coloration, the ruby-crowned and golden-crowned kinglets are easily distinguished from each other. Side by side, the two species of North American kinglets are easy to identify. The golden-crowned kinglet has a striped facial pattern formed by bold black and white stripes. The ruby-crowned kinglet, on the other hand, has a bold white eye ring but no striping.

The golden-crowned kinglet has an orange crown patch, while the ruby-crowned kinglet has a red crown patch that is, more often than not, kept concealed. Both sexes of the golden-crowned kinglet possess an orange crown patch, but only the male ruby-crowned kinglet boasts a scarlet patch of feather atop the head.

Kinglets are active birds, foraging vigorously for small insects and spiders. When foraging, both kinglet species have a habit of flicking their wings over the backs. Even if you can’t get a good look at the birds, this behavior alone helps contrast them from other small birds, including some warblers and wrens.

Golden-crowned kinglets are widespread in the region during the winter. During the summer months, head to the slopes of some of the region’s higher mountains to look for these tiny birds that nest at the higher elevations of the Southern Appalachians.

Ruby-crowned kinglets can also be found in the region during the winter, but extreme cold weather will often force these less cold-hardy birds to eke out the winter months farther south.

Kinglets don’t typically visit feeders, but they do tend to join mixed flocks with membership consisting of such species as tufted titmouse, Carolina chickadee and white-breasted nuthatch. When traveling with such flocks, kinglets may visit the space around feeders but rarely take seeds or other fare offered at feeders.

In recent decades, perhaps assisted by the surge in the popularity of feeding birds, kinglets have been observed sampling such fare as suet cakes, peanut chips and scraps of sunflower seeds that have been shelled and dropped by other birds.

Normally, kinglets have a rather fleeting lifespan. These tiny birds can be considered old if they live three or four years. There are always exceptions. The oldest golden-crowned kinglet on record was six years and four months old. That individual, a male, was documented by a bird bander in 1976, according to the website All About Birds.

Kinglets are surprisingly tame at time and often exhibit as much curiosity about us as we display toward them. They’re very active birds, however, constantly moving from perch to perch. These bursts of hyperactivity can make them difficult to observe with any satisfaction since they so rarely remain still for long.

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To learn more about birds and other topics from the natural world, friend me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler. I like to post about local birds, wildlife, flowers, insects and other aspects of the natural world.

Carolina chickadees are cheerful backyard birds

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A Carolina chickadee visits a feeder for sunflower seeds.

I’ve learned not to leave my house without an offering for the local birds. Should I neglect to bring sunflower seed to fill the feeders in the yard as I leave for work in the morning, I must face a scolding from the resident Carolina chickadees.

I think I’ve become familiar enough with these tiny black, white and gray birds that I can tell the difference between a disappointed scolding, the result of leaving the house empty handed, and their jubilant and excited chattering as they invite other birds near and far to come and partake of the bounty when I remember to fill the feeders.

Chickadees have a namesake scolding vocalization — a strident chick-a-dee-dee-dee — that they use to communicate with each other as the move through dreary winter woodlands.

They and the tufted titmice, a closely related species, are among the birds most easily acclimated to human presence and activity.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A Carolina chickadee endures a cold winter’s day.

On the mornings when I remember their sunflower seeds, the waiting chickadees are doing tiny hoppity dances in the branches of nearby trees and shrubs, barely able to contain their excitement. They barely give me time to move away from the feeders before they dart in, grab a seed and carry it off to quickly shell on a safe perch.

In the spring, the Carolina chickadee has a familiar “fee-bee-fee-bo” song that rings out in the woodlands around my home. Cavity-nesters, chickadees readily take to nest boxes provided by human landlords. We are about five months away from spring of 2025, but that’s all right. Early winter is a great time to make the acquaintance of the Carolina chickadee.

This diminutive songbird is at home in mixed or deciduous woods in the United States from New Jersey west to southern Kansas and south to Florida and Texas. The Carolina chickadee also ranges along the Appalachian Mountains, but on some of the higher peaks they are replaced by their cousin, the black-capped chickadee. In Tennessee, birders need to visit some of the higher peaks in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in order to find black-capped chickadees.

Sunflower seeds are a favorite offering. They are also attracted by peanuts, suet and other varieties of bird seed. They comprise the nucleus of mixed flocks of various species, so they will also bring other birds into your yard and within easy viewing range. Some other members of the flock might include wrens, nuthatches, titmice and perhaps a couple of kinglets or a downy woodpecker.

It’s easy to attract chickadees to your yard. Shrubs and small trees, feeders stocked with sunflower seeds and perhaps a mesh cage offering a suet cake are sure to make these small birds feel welcome. If you want to witness the family life of chickadees, build or buy a box suitable for wrens and other smaller birds. That task can wait until February of March of next year. Chickadees will happily take up residence in the offered nesting boxes.

Once a pair of chickadees settles down into domestic bliss in the spring, they almost at once start work on the construction of a nest. These little songbirds, looking quite smart in their handsome black, white and gray feathers, build an exquisite nest. The primary nesting material is green moss, which they stuff into a natural cavity or bird box in great quantities. The female chickadee fashions a depression in the collection of moss. She lines this shallow basin with plant fibers as well as strands of fur or hair to provide soft cushioning for her eggs.

A female chickadee can lay a large number of eggs, with the clutch size ranging between three and ten eggs. Once the young hatch, both parents are kept busy delivering food to a large brood of hungry, noisy chicks. The young grow quickly, but they take advantage of the safety of their cavity nest and don’t depart for the wider world until 20 days after their hatching.

North America’s other chickadees include the aforementioned black-capped chickadee, as well as boreal chickadee, chestnut-backed chickadee, grey-headed chickadee, Mexican chickadee, and mountain chickadee. On a trip to Utah in 2003 and 2006, I saw both black-capped chickadees and mountain chickadees.

In other parts of the world, chickadees are known as “tits,” which is from an Old English word denoting small size. Worldwide, there are about 60 species of chickadees and tits, which are classified collectively under the scientific family name, Paridae. Other members of this family range into Europe, Asia and Africa, including species with colorful names like fire-capped tit, yellow-bellied tit, azure tit, green-backed tit and cinnamon-breasted tit.

Alas, in Northeast Tennessee, western North Carolina and southwest Virginia, we have only the Carolina chickadee, but these entertaining birds are sure to become the star attractions in yard and garden once they discover your feeders and begin providing their cheerful antics.

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If you have a question, wish to make a comment or share a sighting, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A young Carolina chickadee, not long out of the nest, explores the world.

Seasonal transitions raise profiles of flickers, other birds

NatureLady/Pixabay • Northern flickers belong to the woodpecker family. Relatives living in the region include the pileated woodpecker, yellow-bellied sapsucker and downy woodpecker. Unlike most woodpeckers, flickers spend an extensive amount of time foraging on the ground for various insects.

Robin Free, a resident of Scott County, Virginia, emailed me after reading a recent column about owls. She told me she was interested in attracting more owls to her property, which she noted boasts an abundance of ground squirrels and mice.

I congratulated her on the fact that with all those ground squirrels and mice her home should make for happy hunting grounds for any owls in the vicinity.

I suggested she could play a recording of a screech-owl call at dusk to see if she can get a real owl to respond. These small owls are very curious and will readily respond.

Photo by Bryan Stevens
An Eastern Screech-Owl at rest in a roosting hole in a large sycamore tree.

The owl that Robin and most os us are likely to attract is the Eastern screech-owls. Since screech-owls are cavity-nesters, people can offer a roosting/nesting box. Obviously, these boxes have to be a little larger than for songbirds. Simply do a Google search to find screech-owl boxes for purchase.

Here’s some info I found online about screech-owl boxes. Placement is crucial. Mount the box at least 10 feet high in a tree, on a pole or on the edge of woods, fields or wetlands. Keep it away from trees where squirrels can jump to it. Add a couple of inches of wood chips or saw dust for nesting material.

 

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In this transition from fall to winter, some birds have adopted higher profiles around my home. I hear and see ruby-crowned kinglets and white-throated sparrows almost every morning as I leave for work. I am also seeing and hearing Northern flickers.

Flickers are woodpeckers, but there are some differences between them and other members of this clan. While flickers can be found during all seasons in the region, this woodpecker is one of the migratory ones. I see the most Northern flickers during fall migration. This woodpecker is one of the few of its kind that usually migrates to warmer climates during the colder months, although the species is not completely absent from the region in the winter season.

This species also has many other common names, including yellow-hammer — a popular name in the Deep South — and harry-wicket, heigh-ho and gawker bird. The Northern flicker is also the only woodpecker to serve a state — Alabama — as an official bird. The flicker earned this distinction back in 1927. Alabama soldiers who fought for the Confederacy were nicknamed “yellowhammers” because of their grey-and-yellow uniforms, which matched the colors of the bird. Incidentally, Alabama was one of the first states to ever name an official state bird.

There are two races of Northern flicker — yellow-shafted and red-shafted — found in the United States. Eastern flickers show yellow feather shafts beneath the wings while western counterparts show red beneath the wings. A trip to Utah several years ago gave me a chance to also see the red-shafted race of this bird.

The Northern flicker is also not the only flicker in the United States. The gilded flicker inhabits many of the deserts — Sonoran, Yuma and Colorado — in the United States. Of course, trees are scarce in deserts, but that hasn’t proven an obstacle for this woodpecker. The bird is closely associated with saguaro cactus. Other desert dwellers depend on this woodpecker. Once the flickers are no longer making use of their nest and roost holes in the multi-armed cacti, other wildlife moved into the chambers.

The Northern flicker is an enthusiastic drummer, pounding loudly on the sides of trees with its stout bill. The purpose of the drumming is to communicate with mates and signal potential rivals that they’re intruding. Toward that objective, flickers sometimes substitute metal utility poles or the sides of buildings for the trunks of trees. In addition to drumming, the flicker also employs a variety of loud vocalizations that are fairly distinctive. A loud, repeated vocalization, often translated as “wicka-wicka-wicka,” is similar to the cluck-like call of the larger pileated woodpecker. The flicker is also known for emitting a sharp, loud “kleeer” call that can be heard from a considerable distance. It’s that call that I’ve been hearing most mornings in the woodlands around my home.

The adult flicker is a brown bird with black bars on the back and wings. A distinctive black patch occupies the upper breast, while the lower breast and belly are beige with black spots. Males can be identified by a black or red mustache stripe at the base of the beak. They also have a red stripe on the back of their gray heads. The flicker’s dark tail is set apart by a white rump patch that is conspicuous when the bird takes flight..

Look for Northern flickers in fields, orchards, city parks and well-planted suburban yards. These woodpeckers are usually not too shy around human observers and will sometimes allow for extended observation. If you’re even more fortunate, you could find one visiting your yard or garden. Just remember to scan the ground. This is one woodpecker that’s not a consistent tree-hugger like many of its kin.

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Bryan Stevens has written weekly about birds and birding since 1995. Email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com to share sightings, ask questions or make comments.

 

 

Spotlight on dark-eyed junco launched weekly column 29 years ago

Pixabay • A dark-eyed junco visits a deck for birdseed.

I wrote my first bird column on Sunday, Nov. 5, 1995, which means this weekly column is marking its 29th anniversary this week.

Looking back, it seems almost unbelievable that I’ve written anything on a regular weekly basis for almost 30 years. This column has appeared in a total of six different newspapers, which I regard as a personal achievement, as well as an accomplishment for our feathered friends. It’s on their behalf that I pen these weekly efforts to promote conservation and good will toward all birds. I have also posted the column as a weekly blog posting since February 2014 at http://www.ourfinefeatheredfriends.com.

I’ve played detective, helping people identify everything from “rain crows,” or cuckoos, to Muscovy ducks, rose-breasted grosbeaks and house finches. I’ve observed unusual birds, including white pelicans, brants and roseate spoonbills, in Northeast Tennessee, Southwest Virginia and Western North Carolina and spotlighted them in these columns.

Photo by Ken Thomas • A dark-eyed junco perches on some bare branches on a winter’s day.

While my vision challenges remain, I find that looking through binoculars works just fine, allowing me to spin the focus wheel and still take delight in the kaleidoscopic parade of colorful warblers that pass through the region each spring and fall as well as the fast-paced duels of ruby-throated hummingbirds. My main problem these days is the inability to spot movement, especially in treetops where many birds like to hang out.

At my home, I continue to provide sunflower seed and other supplemental food for the resident birds like Carolina chickadees, white-breasted nuthatches, song sparrows and downy woodpeckers.

Even as I tweak my anniversary column for “Feathered Friends,” I’m looking forward to the winter bird feeding season. The prognostication of approaching winter weather is a perfect time to dust off this week’s column, which is a revision of the first bird column I ever wrote. This column focused on a common visitor to yards and feeders during the winter months. In fact, dark-eyed juncos should be returning to the region any day. Here, with some revisions I have made through the years, is that first column.

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Of all the birds associated with winter weather, few are as symbolic as the dark-eyed junco, or “snow bird.” The junco occurs in several geographic variations.

John V. Dennis, author of “A Complete Guide to Bird Feeding,” captures the essence of the junco in the following description: “Driving winds and swirling snow do not daunt this plucky bird. The coldest winter days see the junco as lively as ever and with a joie de vivre that bolsters our sagging spirits.” The dark-eyed junco’s scientific name, hyemalis, is New Latin for “wintry,” an apt description of this bird.

Most people look forward to the spring return of some of our brilliant birds — warblers, tanagers and orioles — and I must admit that I also enjoy the arrival of these birds. The junco, in comparison to some of these species, is not in the same league. Nevertheless, the junco is handsome in its slate gray and white plumage, giving rise to the old saying “dark skies above, snow below.”

Just as neotropical migrants make long distance journeys twice a year, the junco is also a migrating species. But in Appalachia, the junco is a special type of migrant. Most people think of birds as “going south for the winter.” In a basic sense this is true. But some juncos do not undertake a long horizontal (the scientific term) migration from north to south. Instead, these birds merely move from high elevations, such as the spruce fir peaks, to the lower elevations. This type of migration is known as vertical migration. Other juncos, such as those that spend their breeding season in northern locales, do make a southern migration and, at times, even mix with the vertical migrants.

During the summer months, a visit to higher elevations mountaintops is almost guaranteed to produce sightings of dark-eyed juncos. Juncos may nest as many as three times in a season. A female junco usually lays three to six eggs for each nest, which she constructs without any assistance from her mate.

Juncos are usually in residence around my home by early November. Once they make themselves at home I can expect to play host to them until at least late April or early May of the following year. So, for at least six months, the snow bird is one of the most common and delightful feeder visitors a bird enthusiast could want.

Juncos flock to feeders where they are rather mild-mannered — except among themselves. There are definite pecking orders in a junco flock, and females are usually on the lower tiers of the hierarchy. Females can sometimes be distinguished from males because of their paler gray or even brown upper plumage.

Since juncos are primarily ground feeders they tend to shun hanging feeders. But one winter I observed a junco that had mastered perching on a hanging “pine cone” feeder to enjoy a suet and peanut butter mixture.

Dark-eyed juncos often are content to glean the scraps other birds knock to the ground. Juncos are widespread. They visit feeders across North America. The junco is the most common species of bird to visit feeding stations. They will sample a variety of fare, but prefer such seeds as millet, cracked corn or black oil sunflower.

The juncos are a small branch of the sparrow clan. Some of the other juncos include the endangered Guadalupe junco, yellow-eyed junco, Baird’s junco and volcano junco. The last one on the list is endemic to the Talamancan montane forests of Costa Rica and western Panama. Baird’s junco is named for Spencer Fullerton Baird, an American ornithologist and naturalist.

Baird served as secretary for the Smithsonian Institution from 1878 until his death in 1887. He greatly expanded the natural history collections of the Smithsonian from 6,000 specimens in 1850 to over two million by the time of his death.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this introduction to juncos. There’s something about winter that makes a junco’s dark and light garb an appropriate and even striking choice, particularly against a backdrop of newly fallen snow.

Of course, the real entertainment from juncos comes from their frequent visits to our backyard feeders. When these birds flock to a feeder and began a furious period of eating, I don’t even have to glance skyward or tune in the television weather forecast. I know what they know. Bad weather is on the way!

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I’ve already seen the first of the season’s white-throated sparrows, a reliable precursor to juncos. If you’d like to share your first sighting this season of dark-eyed juncos, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com. As always, the column is open as a line of communication with fellow bird enthusiasts. I’ve enjoyed sharing stories about birds with countless readers over the past 29 years. I can also be reached on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler.

 

Vocal screech owls are pint-sized predators

Photo by Bryan Stevens • An Eastern screech owl perches on a hemlock branch. These owls are much smaller than such relatives as great horned owl and barred owl.

It’s been my pleasure to enjoy almost daily serenades by an Eastern screech owl residing in the woods around my home. The small owl’s shivery wailing calls usually start around dusk and can continue at intervals throughout the night.

Back in September while I watched almost daily for migrants from a lawn chair, I heard on a couple of occasions the “early bird” owls calling occasionally from shady wooded areas. The owls tended to call more often during the daytime when conditions were overcast.

I always pause and listen when I hear the wailing and haunting vocalizations of the screech-owls that make their home in the woodlands that surround my home. I’m glad to have this small owl as a neighbor, but I fully realize that owls have suffered from a dark reputation in certain corners. The fact is, unless you are a small rodent or some sort of insect-sized prey, the Eastern screech-owl makes an excellent addition to the neighborhood.

On the verge of Halloween, a closer look at this small owl is warranted. An adult Eastern screech owl is usually only between six and nine inches in length. Many people upon first seeing a screech-owl assume it’s a baby owl. During past trips to Brookgreen Gardens in South Carolina, I have enjoyed attending the daily educational programs conducted by the zoo staff at Brookgreen. These programs are designed to introduce visitors to various examples of native wildlife. The presenter usually introduced a couple of animals to the audience. On several occasions, the show featured birds of prey, including hawks and owls.

Photo by Irene K-s/Pixabay.com • An Eastern screech owl keeps an eye on its surroundings.

Two of the shows during my visit to Brookgreen back in 2019 featured Lucy, an Eastern screech-owl, and people in the audience invariably asked if she was a baby owl. To their astonishment, they learned that Lucy was an adult screech-owl and unlikely to grow any bigger.

There are larger owls in our region, including the great horned owl and barred owl. Lucy and her kin must avoid these much larger owls, which would not scruple at making a meal of the much smaller owl.

Because of their small size, screech-owls prey on some comparatively small creatures, including insects, small rodents, amphibians, songbirds and reptiles. The Eastern screech-owl is also a cavity-nesting bird and will accept bird boxes provided by humans so long as the box’s entrance hole is customized to their size.

The screech owl is the owl most likely to encounter human beings. It’s an adaptable little feathered predator, just as much at home in the backyard and garden as it is in parks and woodlands. In addition to nesting in cavities, this owl roosts in them during the daytime hours. Look for roosting screech-owls in knotholes of trees or in unoccupied wood duck boxes. Although they come in two color phases — red and gray — both variations are quite capable of camouflage. When perched or roosting, these small owls blend remarkably with their surroundings.

The Eastern screech owl also produces a variety of odd wails and other vocalizations including a distinctive, trembling “whinny” call that is often made when the owl feels curious or alarmed. It’s a wavering, haunting call that is made after dark, most often at the hours closer to dawn and dusk. Imitating the call of a screech-owl or playing a recording is also a trick for getting some shy songbirds to show themselves. Screech owls are not-so-welcome co-habitants among my yard’s songbirds, which will flock to this owl’s call and band together to “mob” the predator and try to convince it to depart the immediate area.

As small as the Eastern screech-owl is, the United States is home to several other pint-sized owls, including Western screech-owl, Northern pygmy-owl, Northern saw-whet owl, flammulated owl and elf owl, which at six inches tall and a weight of less than an ounce qualifies as the world’s smallest owl.

Photo by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service • The tiny Northern Saw-whet Owl nests on several of the region’s higher mountains.

Any time I finish listening to a calling owl and go back indoors for the evening, I reflect on the fact that screech-owls make good neighbors. Their prey preferences remove many nuisance insects and rodents from the habitat they share with humans as well as other wildlife. If you’re hearing an odd, winnowing call from the edge of the woods at your own home, there’s a good chance that you have one of these small owls as a neighbor.

Keep alert for these small owls and their larger kin as we observe this year’s Halloween holiday, as well as other days and nights throughout the year.

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To learn more about birds and other topics from the natural world, friend Bryan Stevens on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler. He enjoys posting about local birds, wildlife, flowers, insects and much more. If you have a question, wish to make a comment or share a sighting, email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Holly Keepers/USFWS • A red Eastern screech owl peeks from a perch among some evergreen branches.

Grosbeaks are migrating back south

Photo by Bryan Stevens
A young male Rose-breasted Grosbeak visits a feeder in September of 2013. Young males resemble females but show a splash of orange on the breast that will be replaced the following spring by the familiar rosy-red patch.

Kaylynn Sanford Wilster hosted some refugees from Hurricane Helene at her feeders on Sept. 27. She notified me of their arrival with a post to my Facebook page.

Kaylynn lives in Piney Flats near Boone Lake and sees plenty of birds and other wildlife at her home. She shared photos on my Facebook page of Northern cardinals sharing a feeder with rose-breasted grosbeaks. While the cardinals are found here throughout the year, rose-breasted grosbeaks are mostly spring and fall migrants in the region.

The photos captured the dark and rain of the early part of the day on Sept. 27 as remnants of Hurricane Helene barreled through the region. I suspect that the rose-breasted grosbeaks that landed on her feeders were hoping to ride out the storm with easy access to food.

Photo Courtesy of Kaylynn Sanford Wilster • A young male rose-breasted grosbeak, right, shares space on a feeder with an adult male Northern cardinal.

Plenty of rose-breasted grosbeaks pass through northeast Tennessee, southwest Virginia and western North Carolina every spring and fall. These songbirds also make their summer home on local mountains. Rose-breasted grosbeaks birds spread out widely across the eastern half of the North American continent, ranging from northeastern British Columbia to Quebec and Nova Scotia in Canada. They also range south from New Jersey to Georgia. The rose-breasted grosbeak also reaches Colorado, Oklahoma and Kansas.

For the most part, however, the rose-breasted grosbeak is replaced in the western United States by the closely related black-headed grosbeak.

As fall approaches, the rose-breasted grosbeak migrates south to a winter range that spans central Mexico, Central America and northern South America. As they depart, many of these migrating birds will make autumn visits to again partake of offerings of sunflower seeds at backyard feeders. So, if you didn’t get to see these showy birds in the spring, local bird enthusiasts get another chance to see them in September and October.

The male rose-breasted grosbeak gives this species it name. Males are the epitome of the birds that make their home for part of the year in the American tropics. The contrasting black and white plumage is emphasized by a triangular slash of rosy-red color on the breast. Put all those elements together and the male rose-breasted grosbeak is not a bird that would be mistaken for any other.

The female grosbeak, however, doesn’t stand out in the same way. She is much less colorful than the male. With her brown and white plumage, she is often mistaken for a large sparrow or finch.

Both sexes have a massive bill, which they use to hull sunflower seeds at feeders or glean insects from leaves and branches. It’s the heavy, blunt bill for which the term “grosbeak” is derived. “Gros” is a German term for large or big, so grosbeak simply means a large-beaked bird. People who band birds to further the study of them will tell you that rose-breasted grosbeaks can inflict a wicked nip. In Northeast Tennessee, bird banders frequently encounter rose-breasted grosbeaks in their mist nets — and bear the scars to prove it.

With some birds, males play only a minor role in the nesting process. That’s not the case with the rose-breasted grosbeak male. The males help with nest-building chores and share responsibility with the female for incubating the eggs.

The female lays three to five eggs in a cup-shaped nest. It’s not easy to locate the nests since the birds usually place them in trees at least 20 feet above the ground. Within two weeks, the eggs have hatched and the parents are kept extremely busy finding enough food to satisfy the voracious nestlings. Well fed by both parents, the young grow quickly and usually are ready to leave the nest within 12 days.

Often, when a first brood of young departs the nest, the male will care for the rowdy group of fledglings as the female starts a second nest to capitalize on the long days of summer.

Away from our feeders, rose-breasted grosbeaks feed on insects, seeds, fruit and even some leaf buds and flowers. I’ve seen these birds satisfying a sweet tooth — or should that be sweet beak? — by feeding on jewelweed flowers and apple blossoms. If sugar’s good for hummingbirds, I am sure it is a valuable energy source for rose-breasted grosbeaks, too.

Some of the grosbeaks in Kaylynn’s photos were young male grosbeaks that didn’t yet have the stunning plumage of an adult male. They were making their first migration, heading south to spend the winter on the same wintering grounds as their parents. An interruption of that migration by a hurricane must have been an unwelcome one, but the birds at her feathers didn’t appear to have even a feather out of place.

Like people, birds can be extremely resilient, even in the face of something like a hurricane. Whether you see rose-breasted grosbeaks in the spring or the fall, these songbirds are cherished visitors that can add some excitement to a gloomy day.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A migrating rose-breasted grosbeak rests and recuperates after a collision with a. window.