Screech of Delight

Last week, I had the most amazing birding experience, completely by accident. As my husband and I were making popcorn in preparation for watching Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole, I turned toward our large kitchen window and saw what looked to be a large leaf flutter upwards and out of view. That might not be so unusual given the season, except it was not windy enough that night for any leaf of that size to be blown upwards. Curious (and more than a little hopeful), I stepped onto the deck and into our yard to take a peek at what I believed would be a neighborhood bat.

I never expected what I saw; perched above the kitchen window, neat as you please, was an owl. I do believe my heart actually stopped, and I watched him for a moment on the roof before he winged to a nearby tree, giving me another great view from less than 20 feet away. It was only a minute later, when he flew off to the north along the property line, that I realized I'd been too shocked to take the requisite mental notes for proper identification. But what an experience!

Two hours later, after the movie (not too bad as anthropomorphized bird movies go), I couldn't resist bundling up against the freezing temperatures, grabbing my field bag, and heading into the neighborhood for a bit of hopeful owling. Once I got outside, though, I really didn't know where to start, so I went back to the beginning, where I'd seen the owl earlier. Even before I lit my flashlight, I saw a suspicious lump above the kitchen window, and lo and behold, it was the same owl, in the same spot, with the same mildly disgruntled look to give me. Again he perched on the roof for a few moments before flying to another tree, but this time, I was able to observe him from only a dozen feet away for several minutes - enough time to note the brilliant yellow eyes, gray and black streaked plumage, rounded tail, and overall field markings that positively identified him as a western screech-owl.

Not only a remarkable new yard bird (well worth the cost of moving, in my opinion), but a tremendous new lifer I'd never have expected. And all because I saw a "leaf" outside and opted to investigate. Never miss an opportunity to look for birds, no matter how unlikely the situation might seem - you never know what might be flying by.

Do you know these 20 Fun Facts About Owls?

Return to the Field

What with home selling and buying, moving, work changes, health concerns, and more this year, I haven't been into the field to enjoy birds in months, but this past weekend I took two hours to reacquaint myself with the joys of binns hanging around my neck, my field bag and camera bag bumping on opposite hips, and the feel of cold fingers in the autumn breeze as I fiddled with a focus wheel. I'd forgotten how good it truly feels to be out birding.

I felt I was rewarded, though with only spotting six species on one of my favorite loops in Provo Canyon, other birders might not agree that it was a productive morning. Still, the birds I saw were most memorable...

• American Dipper: Dipping along in the river, and falling off a rock in its haste to secure what must have been a very tasty morsel.
• Black-Billed Magpie: Elegantly flying through the picnic area of the park where I began my walk, sunlight glinting off its regal plumage.
  
• Song Sparrow: Twittering back at me and eagerly responding to simple pishing as it hopped and skittered through thick brush.
  
• Belted Kingfisher: Irately buzzing along the river in a never-ending quest for food, strong wing beats giving it both power and speed.
  
• Black-Capped Chickadee: Frantically foraging for insects in the last remaining autumn leaves, never sitting still for an instant.
• Spotted Sandpiper: Walking and probing along an exposed sandbar from the drained reservoir, meticulously pacing the shore while foraging.

No matter what birds you may or may not see, it pays to get out into the field to enjoy them all. I won't be so long away from the trails, paths, forests, fields, and feathers again.

Flick and Flack

While I'm still adjusting to the new house and yard, it is always sheer joy to see a new bird species visit. Earlier this month I had a special visit from a pair of northern flickers (red-shafted as they are in the west), and these large woodpeckers spent quite some time foraging around a series of decaying stumps near the back fence. They would peck around the ground, cling to the sides of the stumps, and perch on top while looking for the next morsel.

At this point, I don't have many woodpecker-friendly features in the backyard, but soon enough the suet feeder will be out for them to enjoy. In the meantime, the flickers - now at least three - have visited several times and seem quite content to have a browse along and beneath our honey locust trees. Once or twice I've also spotted a downy woodpecker in the vicinity, and I hope he sticks around as well. I might only get a quick flick of a view, but the woodpeckers are always welcome.

Like woodpeckers? Learn these 15 Fun Facts About Woodpeckers!

Growing Up

Seeing as I haven't been in the new house for many months and the yard is not as bird-friendly as it could be as yet, I'm thoroughly enjoying the "easy" birds that visit. Some of the most treasured are the California quail; large coveys live in the neighborhood and may visit my platform feeding area several times a day.

In the past few weeks I've delighted in watching the chicks mature; from fluffy balls of down, now they're getting closer to their adult size and their markings are starting to be apparent. They know much better how to feed now and happily kick up seed and corn just like the adults, and they're quick to flee from any perceived danger. They still stick closely together as a brood, and it won't be until next spring that they'll seek out mates of their own. I'm taking great care to keep the feeders full so they will adopt my yard and deck as a reliable food source, and hopefully I'll have even more broods to enjoy next year. Of course, with as many as 15 or so quail crowding the feeders at once, I'd best stock up on cracked corn, black oil sunflower seed, and white proso millet to sate all their appetites!

The visits from the quail have made me rethink part of my landscaping plans, and I'm glad I haven't blundered too quickly into making changes. Many times, the brood has taken shelter under the deck itself - most notably one time when the neighborhood hawk was hunting in the yard. I had planned to block off the underside of the deck and make it inaccessible, but I've seen firsthand how even that type of artificial shelter can be beneficial for birds. I may still block it off to keep cats or other animals from taking up residence, but I'll be sure the birds always have that safe spot for a fast retreat. And when I need a retreat from the stresses of life, all I have to do is remember the joy my quail bring. May your birds bring you the same.

Examining Birds

I'm happy to announce that earlier this month I took on a new role in the online birding world - I'm now the official National Examiner for Bird Watching and the local Utah County Bird Watching Examiner on Examiner.com. This gives me the opportunity to explore even more local birding as well as share my experiences with a wider national audience, in addition to my work as the About.com Guide to Birding / Wild Birds. It may seem repetitive or redundant, but there is always more to learn about birds, and the more ways we have to share what we learn, the more we can share our love of birding with others. Furthermore, the two sites are quite different - my work on About.com is much more robust, while the Examiner.com pieces are a faster read. Please be sure to tune in to whichever interests you most! Of course, I hope to continue with this blog as well - my backyard birds will always have a special place here, as will all my birding adventures - locally, nationally, and worldwide. Always more to learn about birds, always more birds to see, always more birding to be done - I wish you as much success with your birding endeavors as I have been experiencing!

Cuteness Overload

I've been besieged with backyard cuteness recently; several coveys of California quail have discovered my extensive platform feeding station on the corner and stairs of my deck, complete with white proso millet and cracked corn, two of their favorite foods. The excitement starts with a flurry of chipping from the parents as they lead their brood into the yard - I can hear their calls from almost anywhere in the house, particularly with the windows open on these fine late summer days.

When they reach the feeders, the frantic feeding begins. At first the youngsters were just idly pecking about, but they've quickly learned from their parents where the food is best (on the big tray feeder) and how to get it most efficiently (quick scratches and pecks). Now, during any visit, I may have a dozen or more young quail and three or four adult birds enjoying the feast, jostling for the best positions, and taking advantage of what seed may fall through the deck into the safe sheltered space below. Given the relative sizes of the young birds, and the fact that some of the adults are snippier with some chicks more than others, it's clear that more than one covey is joining in.

I can't get enough of enjoying them, really. Quail are some of my favorite birds, with their round physiques, jaunty crests, and straight-line, fast running. How can you not be enchanted when birds such as this come high-stepping across your grass?

Negotiating With Neighbors

It was over a week ago that I had to be the hand of mercy at the end of a black-capped chickadee's life after it suffered at the paws of a neighborhood cat. I spoke with the neighbor who owns the animal, expressing my concerns and my wish that the cat was to be kept strictly indoors. While I disagree with their assertion that "no one can keep a cat indoors 100 percent of the time" (I know a fair few responsible, compassionate cat owners who do just that), I appreciate their willingness to do their best to keep the cat secure.

That said, in the past week I've twice seen the cat back in our yard. She may be learning her lesson, however, as she is not lingering and tends to skedaddle quickly as soon as she is spotted. I've seen no further evidence of her predatory instincts, and whenever I do see her I make loud, mean shouts and chase her off right away. She may, perhaps, be learning her lesson about not being welcome in my yard.

I'm going to give it a bit more time, and will likely be speaking to the neighbors again - gently, but with compassion I hope they will share. I will certainly speak with them should I find another dead bird that defies other causes (window strikes, disease, etc.). It is hard, negotiating in this way, for on one hand I want to protect my birds and it is their cat doing the trespassing - against both city and neighborhood laws - yet neighborly is another matter. I'm looking into other deterrent methods, but the mixed reviews motion-detector sprinklers and other devices have aren't promising. Perhaps my scare tactics on the cat will help her learn permanently that she needs to keep away, and I can keep away from less than neighborly conflicts.

The Chickadee I Wish I Never Had

Just a day or two after we moved to this house, I was thrilled to find black-capped chickadees a plenty. They've staked out several of my trees as their own, given my husband a thorough bawling out for daring to come near them when mowing the lawn, and nicked countless seeds from my feeders. Today, however, I wished we'd never had a single one in the yard.

We also happen to have a Siamese cat that roams the neighborhood, based from our neighbors two doors down. The cat is well groomed and sweet-tempered, but I've been anxious about its presence outdoors without any collar or control. My suspicions began when I found a dead bird or two nearby, but no obvious markings that would denote them as cat prey. Today, however, I saw the cat lounging in my backyard, toying with one paw. There was no fluttering beneath that paw and no sign of feathers, so I went out to see what it might have - a mouse, perhaps, or nothing at all, given the predilection of some cats toward dramatic play.

It had a chickadee. My worst suspicions were confirmed; I chased the cat out of the yard with a none-too-gentle swat - to keep it frightened from returning, not to harm it - and gathered a bag and small hand rake to take care of the bird. When I returned, however, I was aghast to see it still breathing rapidly, trembling with fear and pain. I've never been so horrified and distraught in my life.

I feed the birds only the best seed, keep their feeders clean, disinfect their bird baths, and have a career where I teach others how to care for and appreciation our wild feathered friends. All of these things could be considered good, and in that, I'm the good guy. Today I had to be the bad guy when, with tears running down my cheeks and a sob in my throat, I had to get my husband's shovel to bludgeon the chickadee and end its suffering. I would have used the tip of the shovel's blade for a faster end, but the shovel is broken and I had to be more blunt to accomplish the task. As I raised the shovel above the bird to bring it down abruptly, the chickadee opened its eyes and looked into my tears. I can only hope it understood what it may have seen there - compassion, heartbreak, agony, and sorrow.

I plan to speak to the neighbors - their home is currently getting an addition, and it may be that the cat is only outdoors temporarily. Nevertheless, allowing a pet free roam is a violation of both our city's laws and the neighborhood homeowners' association. While there are things I can do to protect my birds from cats, it is this type of instance that makes me wish - for a moment - that I never had birds at all.