Our Disappearing Songbirds

Please consider attending the screening of The Messenger on Monday, April 25 at the Hyland Cinema in London, Ontario. A portion of the proceeds from the evening's event will support The Thames Talbot Trust and its efforts to preserve local natural heritage and habitat. 

The film was shot in part at Western University (UWO). 

If you love birds, a must-see.

Details Here: http://www.thamestalbotlandtrust.ca/messenger

Welcome, Wood Ducks!

So thrilled to welcome Wood Ducks to White’s Wetland! Now as strange as that may sound, because Wood Ducks are native to North America and we are definitely in their breeding range, the fact is that we have never been honoured with their presence before. So to have three Wood Duck pairs as “regulars” on the White’s Wetland pond is indeed a privilege. I tend to agree with many North American naturalists who say that the Wood Duck has to be North America’s most beautiful waterfowl species. The male Wood Duck is so ornately and highly coloured that it is hard to lower the binoculars and look elsewhere.

Our ducks, like so many others, arrived here in April from their wintering grounds in the southern United States. But their presence here, on our pond, tells us something very important about the health of the White’s Wetland ecosystem. Their choice of this wetland tells us that they are finding the habitat they need to live, nest and survive. That means a freshwater wetland, a riparian habitat and plenty of the vegetative material they love. Aquatic plants such as algae, duckweeds, sedges, grasses and pondweeds make up the adult diet along with aquatic insects, while ducklings (come June!) will require a high protein diet; they’ll eat dragonflies, bugs, beetles, and spiders during the first few weeks of life. According to the Hinterland Who’s Who site, “High populations of these small creatures are essential in habitats where the young will hatch and develop.”

Wood ducks feed primarily in shallow water areas, but they’ll also forage on the forest floor for seeds, acorns and nuts. Some ducks, it has been noted, will field forage for corn. Like their name suggests, Wood Ducks are just as much at home in the woods as they are on the water. Wood Ducks are perching ducks; they nest in trees. Left to their own devices, they’ll choose holes in hollow trunks or similar cavities. However, nesting boxes can be created for them, and they have proven to be beneficial for duckling survival rates, if constructed properly and placed in well-chosen locations.

Wood Ducks were hunted to the brink. (What else is new?) But Wood Duck populations have recovered and continue to recover. Thank goodness, because to lose this beautiful, colourful, peaceable bird would be tragic.

However, the largest threat to their future continues to be…yes, you guessed it, the continued loss of habitat. Landowners everywhere, both sides of the border, can encourage Wood Duck populations by protecting and restoring floodplains, wetlands, rivers, streams and woods on their property.

Acorns and other forest mast are important fall and winter foods. So plant oaks if you are reforesting, or choose hickory and black gum.

Native wild grass mixes are available at seed stores (check out the Ontario Seed Catalogue – they have the best seeds!).

Other plant species suggestions can be found in this leaflet:
ftp://ftp-fc.sc.egov.usda.gov/WHMI/WEB/pdf/woodduck(1).pdf

And if you want to learn how to build nesting boxes for them, visit The Wood Duck Society.

Those Birds in Black

How fitting that just as I finished the final paragraph of Crows by Candace Savage, a pair of these raucous rabble-rousers flew in for a morning visit, joyously announcing themselves from the tall pines. I have lovingly dubbed them Heckle and Jeckle (I know, I know, they were magpies). They first arrived a few weeks ago and became frequent visitors at the feeders, heavy snow and the scarcity of food probably driving them in. I don’t see them as often now that the snow is finally, albeit slowly, receding.

I have always felt honoured to be visited by crows. When a crow flies in, there is a moment of magic. The atmosphere suddenly changes, and all things seem possible. It’s as if they come from another world, another kingdom, where animals talk amongst themselves and share a knowing chuckle about our so-called human superiority. Crows can be disconcerting. Humbling.

Yet they are definitely part of our world, if we would only take the time to pay attention to them and to realistically acknowledge the extraordinary evolutionary journey the Corvidae family has taken.

I am glad for their presence in my life. I realize, however, that many people do not share this view of the crow. More’s the pity. They would do well to read this informative book, which deftly shifts between science and lore, thus giving us a 360° perspective on this highly intelligent creature with whom we share the planet.

Noisy? Well, so are we humans. And I would much prefer to listen to crows gabbing overhead than hear car horns, drills, heavy machinery, bulldozers or football fans any day.

Savage’s book has been on the shelves since 2005, so I regretfully confess that I just got around to reading it this month. And while I eagerly recommend this book to fellow Corvidae enthusiasts everywhere, critics and curmudgeons who regard crows only as pests and nuisances ought to read this too.

Here is a tantalizing excerpt to tease your curiosity, or unsettle your disdain if you are not yet a fan of “the bird in black”:

It is disconcerting to find so much of ourselves reflected in a feathered reptile: a bird. Disconcerting, but also revelatory. Our kinship with crows reminds us of the irrepressible creativity of evolution, that endless free-form expression of the miraculous that has shaped all of Earth’s beings, including us. In the vernacular of creation, crows and humans are a kind of living pun, two species with different meanings but the same vibration. It’s the kind of double entendre that the mythic Raven would have loved, a cosmic witticism that both puts us in our place and raises our spirits. When a crow leaps into the air, our hearts take wing with it and we join in the rowdy revel of existence.

Crows, Encounters with the Wise Guys of the Avian World
Candace Savage
Douglas & McIntyre Ltd., 2005
www.greystonebooks.com

And thanks to Wikimedia Commons for the photo.

A dash of cocoa and a sprinkle of cinnamon, please!

I’m not talking about having a creamy cappuccino on a winter afternoon. I’m talking about the feathers of the most beautiful bird at my feeder this winter—an Eastern Towhee. Well, I think she’s the most beautiful. And she’s certainly the most singular. I've not seen any others.

I first noticed her early in December, shortly after that first major snowfall of the season. I couldn’t quite believe my eyes. For the longest time, she seemed content to fly cautiously between the blue spruce and a feeder a few feet away to pick up the fallen seeds scattered on the ground. But she soon discovered the other feeder, the one for the finches and other small birds. This one hangs in the Burning Bush in the front garden and is filled with tiny Nyjer seeds. Smart and adaptable, the towhee now cleans up what the finches leave behind, the seeds that have dropped in the tray. So I rarely see her on the ground these days. I’ve also seen her up in the branches of the bush, leaning out to snatch the odd remaining berry and hanging out with the female cardinals, the juncos and the American tree sparrows.

She’s a joy to watch. To learn about the Eastern Towhee, check out the Cornell Ornithology Lab website.

Of Birds and Bugs and Butterflies: A Year in Review, Part I

What will I remember about 2010? One of the most delightful sights of my year was the daily stroll of the turkey mums with their young. Slowly and with great patience, these ungainly birds would take the kids out for an afternoon “constitutional” along the creek bed under the willows, all in single file. The little ones would straggle a bit from time to time, curious about their surroundings, but then they would hurry to catch up as best they could. But no youngster was ever left behind too long, as the attentive adults would occasionally stop and wait. Then the silent, methodical procession would resume. I counted twenty-six birds winding their way along the creek one day. By autumn, the young birds had grown so much it was hard to distinguish adult from offspring.

By the way, anyone interested in learning about wild turkeys can attend Nature London’s Talking Turkey on Tuesday, January 18, part of the Nature in the City series.

Looking back over 2010, I think I can safely say that, overall, the wild things that call this tract of land home seem to be doing reasonably well and holding their own. Sadly, the number of frogs and turtles was down this summer, yet the number (and variety) of birds observed was up. Birds not observed here in a very, very long time were turning up again, like the Bobolink. And there were birds we had never seen here before, like the Northern Mockingbird. Even now, with winter firmly entrenched and the snowdrifts deep, an Eastern Towhee has opted to stay around and seems to have taken up residence in a spruce tree. This is first time a Towhee has been officially spotted at the wetland and the fact that she is still here in December makes it doubly surprising.

And the butterflies! Giant yellow swallowtails were regular visitors, not to mention the many Red Admirals and more Monarchs than we have seen in years. These are all good signs. But I am still trying to identify one particular butterfly, an almost-black beauty that I caught only a fleeting glimpse of once I’m sorry to say. Hurry, summer!

I'll talk about "my bugs”in the next blog post…

As for the photo of the turkey hens above, I must thank D. Gordon E. Robertson and Wikimedia because I never seem to have the camera handy when I see my turkeys.

The Birds Are Back

At White's Wetland, we have been welcoming returning bird species all week, a sure sign of spring. Taking up residence this weekend: a pair of mallard ducks, a blue heron, a screech owl, two pairs of Canada Geese and more robins, sparrows, crows and mourning doves than you can count. With warmer days coming by the end of this week, we hope to see many more birds and many more signs of life.

The Birds and the Bees

Well, mostly the birds this time.

Spotted on Tuesday: two downy woodpeckers. They flew in, and a few moments later flew out. Obviously just passing through! They were not seen again. All winter long we have been visited by several pairs of red-bellied woodpeckers, but never any downy woodpeckers. Until today. So this was a rare and special treat.

Now, the story of "our" Canada Geese. Every March for the past several years a pair of Canada Geese have claimed our pond for themselves, shooing other pairs away bold enough to intrude on the idyll. Monday morning, right on cue, two Canada Geese flew in. They took turns in the water; while one stood guard on the bank, the other glided around the pond. They lingered for hours, dividing their time between the bank and the water, dabbling at the water's edge or grazing on grass. Watchful yet oddly relaxed. They might not be the same geese every year, but observing this pair, one gets the definite impression that they know this spot well. You know, like those tourists who return to the same resort year after year.

Then suddenly both took to the water together. As if connected by an unseen thread, they were never more than a few inches from one another. Gracefully, elegantly, they swam in unison, making wide, leisurely circles on the glass-green water. Canada Geese, generally speaking, mate for life, and these two soul mates were a beautiful sign of spring.

Spotted today: two pairs of Canada Geese! "Our" geese (assuming, that is, that they are the annual regulars) have finally decided to share the pond with another couple. A truly lovely sight – four Canada Geese gliding gracefully on a morning-still pond drenched in sunlight, undisturbed, unhurried.

Unfortunately, yours truly left her camera and camcorder in Toronto. So no pretty pics for the blog this time.

Protection for the Wild Turkey

North America's wild turkey was hunted almost to extinction. Both Canada and the United States experienced severe declines in their numbers. My father long lamented the fact that he had not seen a wild turkey in our woods in many, many years.

Then, just a few years ago … there they were! We were all thrilled to see these birds take up residence in our woods. When species return to an area after long absences, it is encouraging. You really do begin to feel optimistic about the state of the natural world. Maybe there is hope! Our environmental programs might just be working after all.

So it is especially disheartening when the hunters turn up at the first whiff of a "wild turkey" dinner. This happened on Thanksgiving Sunday. Unfortunately, we cannot do too much about what neighbouring landowners allow on their properties, but when the damage affects what we are trying to achieve at White's Wetlands, it is particularly disheartening.

That Sunday I witnessed a flock of wild turkeys flushed out into our open fields as shots rang out from the woods. The birds were clearly distressed and confused. I felt so helpless. There was no action I could take at the moment because I would have caused them to fly back into the line of fire. Fortunately, they flew into our south woodlot, nearest me.

I never did see the hunters, although I heard their guns as I stood at the end of the lane. I am not sure if these big "weekend" game hunters bagged any members of the flock for their Thanksgiving meal, but I am hoping not. Not when domestic turkeys are in abundance in the supermarkets.

The other aspect to this whole sickening affair was the fact that the gate to our Wetlands was ajar, evidence of trespassing. Not only is trespassing on private property illegal, firing a weapon within city limits is as well. White's Wetlands is within city limits.

For the record here, hunting is not allowed on White's Wetlands. We are trying to protect existing species as well as their habitat.

So a word of warning: hunters beware! You are spotted on our property, the police will be called. You are breaking the law.

In the meantime, check out how wild turkeys are being protected in the United States on the Care 2 site:

http://www.care2.com/causes/environment/blog/major-us-utility-company/

Nature London

The McIlwraith Field Naturalists have been a part of the London Ontario community since 1864. The name of the organization honours Canadian pioneer and ornithologist Thomas McIlwraith. The group undertakes a variety of projects to promote environmental awareness, enhance habitat and protect natural areas. The club owns an 11-hectare nature reserve near Delaware. MFN members participate in the Christmas Bird Count, the annual Butterfly Count and other initiatives that encourage the study of local natural history and promote birding.

Check out their website and the Nature in the City flyer, which details the 2010 schedule of co-sponsored nature talks with the London Public Library. Of special note to wetland enthusiasts is the February 9, 2010 talk on the tenacity of wetland wildflowers: WETLAND WILDFLOWERS: Ingeniously Adapted to Life with Wet Feet.

Migration Time in Southwestern Ontario

Our autumn skies are filling with birds on their way south for the winter. These tiny creatures are undertaking long and difficult journeys. Is there any way we humans can help? Nature Canada offers some precautionary tips.

The Departure of the Barn Swallows

The soundtrack of summer has changed: the barn swallows are gone. And so begin the migrations. September! Such a bittersweet month. Sun and warmth, but all is changing…

For more about barn swallows and their migratory patterns visit The National Wildlife Federation site.

You can learn how global warming is affecting migratory patterns.

"Birds that depend on wetlands are suddenly without habitat as
global warming dries up their homes."

This morning's "cast of characters"

That “perfect string of summer days” has come to an end. It is cool, overcast to the point of being downright gloomy … and rain is on the way.

We woke to an unusual sight for early August—hundreds upon hundreds of birds were flying in, seemingly from the southwest field, landing on every available perch and gathering on the lawn. Their en masse arrival and general rowdiness had the mourning doves cowering at one corner of the roof, visibly unnerved by it all. Even the barn swallows and the sparrows were staying well out of the way. The interlopers were noisy and voraciously hungry, pecking in the grass and poking around the flowerbeds. There were birds on the antenna. On the satellite dish. On the tree stumps. In the bushes. On the eaves.

Casting call for a remake of The Birds perchance???

Their behaviour, however, seems to have had all the indications of a migratory event. So soon? This early? This is something we generally start to see late in September or early October. I spoke to a neighbour about it and she, too, had been visited by several hundred birds last night before dusk. Given what we saw, we believe we witnessed not a flock of starlings but possibly a flock of Rusty Blackbirds migrating from their summer breeding area to their winter home south of the border. Jury is out on this one. But we are pretty sure what they are not. Starlings have yellow beaks; these "black birds" did not.

And the blue jays are back. No, not the baseball team. They’re happily being trounced in some stadium somewhere. I’m talking abouth those colourful, crested songbirds who usually winter with us. Today I spotted six of them, as a matter of fact, flitting back and forth between the spruce and the pines. Unusual to see jays here in the summer. Although, according to their range and migration patterns, jays are supposedly here with us all year round, we tend to see them throughout the winter, spring and fall, less so during the peak summer months. Do they prefer cooler climes to the hot, humid days of a typical southwestern Ontario summer?

But this has not been a typical southwestern Ontario summer.

So a morning of rather unusual bird observations, given the time of year and the area. With these sightings, autumn could be “in the air” so to speak. This is a bit of a twist to Shelley’s oft-quoted line from his “Ode to the West Wind” — if summer comes, can fall be far behind?

Indeed, this year, we are to some extent, still waiting for summer to come. She’s been an elusive tease.