The squirrel rang the doorbell, but the little people weren’t home.
A Brown-headed Cowbird without any cattle.
The early goldfinch gets the elderberry.
The squirrel rang the doorbell, but the little people weren’t home.
A Brown-headed Cowbird without any cattle.
The early goldfinch gets the elderberry.
I wonder if a singing bird ever pauses to think, “Wow! I am really good!”
This young Fox Squirrel got its first look at hailstones and a quarter.
Hailstones outnumbering a quarter.
A Rose-breasted Grosbeak looks for a napkin after eating suet.
Virginia Waterleaf hanging around with violets.
The nyjer seed was the day’s special at the Goldfinch Cafe.
Two fox squirrels just released at our place by the good folks at the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center of Minnesota. They do good work — both the squirrels and the WRC of Minnesota.
Two fox squirrels just released at our place by the good folks at the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center of Minnesota. They do good work — both the squirrels and the WRC of Minnesota.
Toad Hall is the fictional residence of Mr. Toad in “The Wind in the Willows” and is also my yard.
Toad Hall is the fictional residence of Mr. Toad in “The Wind in the Willows” and is also my yard.
A periwinkle smile.
A Red-bellied Woodpecker male doesn’t need a haircut.
Naturally
The grackles displayed little charm as the toads produced bird-like trills. They are the hop toads of my youth.
High trees filled with leaves and plastic bags. Bags stuck in trees fluttered in the wind. These witches' knickers don't ripen there. A robin ate suet that had fallen to the ground. A robin doesn't live by worms alone. I hollered, "Mortimer get out of there" at starlings devouring suet. In Shakespeare's "Henry IV," Hotspur planned to drive King Henry crazy by use of a starling endlessly repeating the name of Hotspur’s brother-in-law Mortimer. Hotspur mused, “Nay, I’ll have a starling shall be taught to speak nothing but ‘Mortimer,’ and give it him, to keep his anger still in motion.” I've watched a gray catbird, rose-breasted grosbeak, Baltimore oriole, brown thrasher, yellow-rumped warbler, orchard oriole, chickadee, nuthatch, and woodpeckers (downy, hairy, red-bellied and red-headed) feed on suet this spring. Crows might want to. They complain, but never without caws.
"My lilac trees are old and tall; I cannot reach their bloom at all. They send their perfume over trees And roofs and streets, to find the bees." — Louise Driscoll
White-throated sparrows come in two color forms: white-crowned and tan-crowned. Individuals nearly always mate with a bird of the other form.
I listened to a rose-breasted grosbeak, a brown thrasher and a Baltimore oriole sing. Their blissful voices blended pleasantly. The first thought finding my brain was "The Chad Mitchell Trio." I'm not sure why. I don't remember a year of so many indigo buntings and gray catbirds. A friend, excited with what she'd seen outside, phoned and exclaimed, "I saw an indigo catbird!" I liked the image that pushed aside The Chad Mitchell Trio in my mind.
My spirits were high, but birds managed to raise them.
Q&A
Ruth Searle of Woodbury asked if mallards will nest again if a nest was lost. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Many hens will renest, building another nest and laying another clutch of eggs after nest predation. The new nest might be near the previous nest or far away in different habitat. Ducks are indeterminate layers and lay eggs until their clutch is complete. If a nest is lost during the laying phase, the hen can quickly renest because she's capable of producing additional eggs. If a hen is in the incubation stage when her nest is lost, she'll need more time to restart egg production. Nesting hens incubate 20 to 22 hours each day. Experienced hens begin nesting sooner than younger birds and are more familiar with food sources critical to providing nutrients necessary for egg production.
"How often do skunks have babies?" Striped skunks have one litter per year. Breeding takes place in late February or March. Gestation takes 59 to 77 days. Four to seven kits are born in mid-May to early June.
"Where do I find garter snakes?" They tend to prefer moist, grassy environments and are often found near water. They typically eat earthworms, amphibians, leeches, slugs, snails, insects, crayfish, small fish, rodents, toads and other snakes.
"Why are so many opossums run over on the road?" A Virginia opossum has a small brain for its body size and it doesn't have the best eyesight, so it might be slow to process information like a speeding Kia approaching. Research found opossums are better at remembering where food is hidden than are dogs, cats or rats. The highly-resistant-to-rabies opossum will eat almost anything — insects, worms, rodents, snails, slugs, frogs, snakes (including venomous ones), eggs, young birds, grain, fruit, nuts, grass, pet food, garbage, carrion and any ticks on its body. I wonder if opossums are bothered by pouch lint?
"Why am I seeing so many birds this year?" It might be because you're taking the time to look for them. Perhaps you're doing a better job of keeping bird feeders fed and bird baths watered. I walked in a light rain. The lack of insects drove birds to suet. I listened to the sounds. The corvids (crows and jays) of COVID-19 cawed and jeered. I enjoyed the remarkable mimicry found in the songs of the brown thrasher and gray catbird. In the new normal, the stunning quietude gives birds bigger voices. When tethered to home, we need the company and the miracle of birds.
"Would a turkey vulture eat plant matter if it were hit by a car?" If it were a pumpkin. I've watched them eat those. They do eat grapes, juniper berries and other vegetation.
"Why don't more songbirds reuse their old nests. It's because good used cars are much easier to find than good used nests.
Thanks for stopping by
"The art of life is to know how to enjoy a little and to endure much." — William Hazlitt
"Life is too short to take a highway." — Myrna Pearman
Do good.
(C) Al Batt 2020
Either my stupid smellcheck stopped working or it's time for our annual smelling bee.
Photo by Al Batt
Orange birds love oranges.
A well-red poppy.
Not many peaches do well in Minnesota. Even those that do usually don’t. This is the Contender variety.
A fiddlehead looks for a four-leaf clover.
Someone’s cat is stalking our yard’s skunk. This cannot end well.
It seems as if the lilacs leave the minute they arrive.
Flying dandelions.
A White-throated Sparrow could whistle in “The Andy Griffith Show.”
A Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher. The “little mockingbird.”
Gnats aren’t a significant part of a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher's diet.
The Blue-gray Gnatcatcher produces high, buzzy, mewing notes.
Napping with eyes wide open.
A nesting Mallard outside a bookstore.
A lovely female Indigo Bunting.
A Chipping Sparrow looks natty.
An elegant American Redstart.
by Al Batt, austindailyherald.com
May 13, 2020 12:01 PM
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Teleconference Meeting
Remember when we went trick-or-treating when we were pups?
Vaguely.
Your head was so lopsided, the holes in the mask you wore didn’t line up with your eyes. You walked into trees, cars and a large Holstein. Now you’re wearing a mask again. Cows need to be warned.
Driving by Bruce’s drive
I have a wonderful neighbor, named Bruce. Whenever I pass his drive, thoughts occur to me, such as: Not long ago, I’d received a vaccination against yellow fever in preparation for a work trip to Kenya that ended up being canceled. I thought of the yellow fever epidemic that hit Philadelphia in 1793 when George Washington (he had no wooden teeth) was president. Medical professionals had little concept of viruses and no vaccines in those days. Surgeons didn’t regularly wash their hands or instruments between surgeries. Francis Bacon said that knowledge is power and it was lacking. There was no Dr. Fauci. Much of the medical treatments consisted of mercury compounds, bloodletting and purging. People were deploringly unclean. Baths were a rarity for most and brushing teeth was unknown to many. In Philadelphia, one in 10 of its 50,000 population died of this disease. They practiced social distancing and there was a cessation of handshakes. Certain liberties were put in abeyance. Doors of residences with infected people were marked. Some cities had quarantines against refugees or goods from Philly. Toilet paper wasn’t hoarded during this plague because there wasn’t any, but perhaps corncobs were stashed. Despite the lack of social media, people recommended harebrained cures: Smoking, drinking copious amounts of wine, cleaning a house or body with vinegar, covering floors with a two-inch-deep layer of dirt replaced daily, chewing garlic, hanging a bag of camphor around the neck, or firing guns in the streets. Some hoped a hurricane would blow the fever away. The vector wasn’t identified as a mosquito until the late 19th century. I bow to science today and am glad that the physician of my youthful days, Dr. Olds, wasn’t much for bloodletting. I’ve read about dogs being trained to detect disease. Compared to us, dogs can smell in color. One day, physical exams may include being sniffed by a beagle.
Life has always been complicated, but the world has become one big, yellow light. We proceed with caution. One day chicken, the next day feathers. If we were a cartoon, discarded banana peels would cover the ground. We want explanations and villains where there might not be any.
We need Mighty Mouse. I remember his song, “Mr. Trouble never hangs around, when he hears this mighty sound, ‘Here I come to save the day!’ That means that Mighty Mouse is on the way!”
Nature notes
I watched a red-tailed hawk kiting into the wind. It was no check-kiting scheme. The wind allowed the raptor to hover while hunting. This hawk preys primarily on mammals.
The yard birds come and go. They aren’t to be confused with the Yardbirds, a rock band, whose hits included “For Your Love” and “Heart Full of Soul.” Bird migrations carry magic and wonder in their feathers. Spring migrations are more colorful as birds wear breeding plumages. Fall migration has more birds because the young birds are included.
The world is in technicolor and most birds are breath-stopping beauties, but the loveliness of some of the warblers makes for feathered jewels. I recall being a boy toiling the farm fields on a tractor without a cab one spring day. The weather had been good and bad. A little rain, some wind and then sun. I brought the tractor to a stop at the edge of a woods. I grabbed my poor man’s lunch pail (a bread wrapper) and climbed onto a low hanging branch of a lofty tree to enjoy a couple of bologna and Velveeta cheese sandwiches and a like number of sugar cookies. As I munched away, the world chirped. I looked up to see branches covered in American redstarts drooping wings and fanning tails to flush insect prey from vegetation. The males flashed orange and black, while the females, nicknamed yellowstarts, showed yellow and gray. The large number of dancing warblers made me say “Wow” more than once. Their presence made for wonderful dinner entertainment. I watched the warblers for exactly too long when I should have been working. When I resumed my labors, I wished the tractor had offered musical theater starring warblers.
Time is fleeting. It seems as if the juncos had just arrived and now, they’ve left. I’ll miss the lovely, little birds. Dark-eyed juncos nest in northeastern and north central Minnesota.
Meeting adjourned
“Kindness is always fashionable.” — Amelia Barr
© Al Batt 2020
The smiling Mallard — a Northern Shoveler.
A gull is happy when it’s down in the dumps.
I was snubbed by two jack-in-the pulpits or two jacks-in-the-pulpit.
Wild ginger.
It was thrilling to see and hear the toad trilling.
Birds rock. Let the Indigo Buntings roll.
All this beauty for a bit of grape jelly. Baltimore Oriole
As you can see from this recent selfie, I’m still struggling with being on a short leash. I hope you are doing much better. Photo by Al Batt
The Gray Catbird has cinnamon undertail coverts, but who hasn’t at one time or another?
A Gray Catbird sings its rendition of “Chain of Fools.”
A Brown Thrasher stops by for the suet special.
The perfect feeder for the Baltimore Oriole that needs to check the ingredients.
My stupid smellcheck stopped working.
The winner of the coveted corncob signifying a championship at the Batt Cave’s Annual Smelling Bee.
Some improvised jazz singing was performed by a Gray Catbird.
Some improvised jazz singing was performed by a Gray Catbird.
The male Brown-headed Cowbird does a little song and dance.
The Lincoln’s Sparrow is named after Thomas Lincoln, who shot one for John James Audubon to paint.
The handsome Rose-breasted Grosbeak was known by the rather unattractive moniker “cutthroat” when I was a lad.
The Indigo Bunting is a bird that is well worth staying home to see.
Mr. & Mrs. Brown Thrasher are trying to remember where they put whatever it was they were looking for.
I wish I could do the call of the Sandhill Crane. If and when I ever stand in a line again, it might help me jump to the head of the line.
A dandelion clock. The number of puffs needed to blow all the seeds away is supposed to indicate the time.
Orange you pretty, Scarlet Tanager.
Smooching cardinals.
Backlit but still beautiful Red-headed Woodpeckers.
The Orchard Oriole is smaller than a Baltimore Oriole just as an orchard is smaller than Baltimore.
Naturally
My walking took me to clouds and birdsongs. Birds were living out loud. I greeted birds as if they were old friends. An eastern towhee delighted me with its presence. I'm sorry
its name was changed from rufous-sided towhee. I named a faithful canine companion after this handsome bird. The dog didn't come when I called "Eastern," so I had to shift her name to Towhee.
A brown thrasher repeated itself just as mature men tend to do. I listened to its greatest hits. The plaintive whistling of white-throated sparrows was alluring.
I heard a loud, ringing "Pete, Pete, Pete, Pete, lend me your shoe" from the water's edge. The song of the northern waterthrush reminded me of the title of an Emily Dickinson poem, "A Little Madness in the Spring."
My attention was drawn to the Nashville warblers by their yellow undersides, but they foraged so low their rufous crown patches were often evident. A black-and-white warbler creeped along a tree trunk as deftly as a nuthatch. The first Harris's sparrow and rose-breasted grosbeak in the yard looked massive while maintaining social distancing from a chipping sparrow. I watched an industrious chickadee peel dead bark from a sapling for use in a nest. Elderberry leafed out. I saw squirrel nests high in oak trees. The squirrels are living in a grocery store.
A touch of nature is outside every window. I never get tired of the scenery found there. It's a snapshot in time. Just look around. It's show-and-tell for the sequestered.
I've been reading
I revisited "The Red Pony" by John Steinbeck where I found this passage, “On the fences the shiny blackbirds with red epaulets clicked their dry call. The meadowlarks sang like water, and the wild doves, concealed among the bursting leaves of the oaks, made a sound of restrained grieving.”
Q&A
Leann Juveland of Albert Lea asked if great horned owls have mate for life and how many eggs they have. Great horned owls are monogamous and a pair often remains on the same territory all year. Pairs may stay together for life. If something happens to one, the survivor usually finds another mate. In the fall, the pair begins a courtship display, loudly calling to each other. They have one to four eggs with a 30-37 day incubation period.
"Why should I feed birds in the summer if they have insects to eat?" The feeders bring birds where we can see them better. It's our own private Discovery Channel or National Geographic Channel that allows us to see hummingbirds and orioles at nectar feeders. Jelly feeders bring in gorgeous orioles, tanagers and catbirds. Sunflower seeds attract handsome rose-breasted grosbeaks. American goldfinches eat seeds almost exclusively. House finches eat almost solely plant materials, including seeds, buds and fruits. I love seeing a father cardinal introduce his offspring to a feeder. I keep our restaurant open year-round.
"What has webbed feet other than ducks and geese?" Other animals include: Swan, gull, loon, alcid (birds like puffins), albatross, tern, flamingo, some penguin species, beaver, muskrat, and some kinds of frogs, salamanders and turtles.
"Are juvenile bald eagles larger than their parents?" Not, really, but they might look larger their first year because of longer flight feathers that aid fledglings learning to fly.
"Where do white-throated sparrows nest in Minnesota?" In north central and northeastern Minnesota, with the highest nesting densities in the northeastern parts.
"Where do golden eagles build their nests?" Golden eagles usually nest on cliffs or in trees in open habitat. They avoid heavily forested and developed areas but have been observed nesting on manmade structures like windmills. Bald eagles typically nest high in the tallest living tree. Golden eagles don't nest in Minnesota.
"My grandfather told me that robins sing before a rain. Is that true?" When robins are intent on singing, they begin early in the morning and sing before almost everything. I believe robins often sing before a rain, a rain song of sorts filled with liquid phrases, perhaps responding to changes in barometric pressure or for some other reason.
Thanks for stopping by
"Some things in life are bad. They can really make you mad. Other things just make you swear and curse. When you're chewing on life's gristle. Don't grumble, give a whistle. And this'll help things turn out for the best. And always look on the bright side of life. Always look on the light side of life. If life seems jolly rotten. There's something you've forgotten. And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing. When you're feeling in the dumps. Don't be silly chumps. Just purse your lips and whistle, that's the thing. And always look on the bright side of life. Come on! Always look on the right side of life." —Eric Idle/Monty Python
Do good.
© Al Batt 2020
A Red-bellied Woodpecker showing some red. Photo by Al Batt
W.C. Fields would have said, “My little chickadee.”
My father called Indigo Buntings blue canaries.
The Brown Thrasher repeats itself like a good radish.
A black-and-white bird with a red bandana equals a Rose-breasted Grosbeak.
The Ruby-crowned Kinglet is a little bird with a giant voice.
A Nashville Warbler, like most Nashville Warblers, is not in Nashville.
Last year’s Baltimore Oriole nest.
A gray squirrel works hard to pluck the sunflower seeds from the red milo.
The Great Blue Heron is incapable of biting off more than it could chew, but it does try to eat more than it can swallow.
The season has been canceled due to COVID-19. I’ll miss being aboard.
Duct tape saved this feeder so a Red-headed Woodpecker could use it.
A black-winged redbird — the Scarlet Tanager.
A disabled lawn mower led to a lawn blooming in violets and Common Yellowthroats. A great improvement over the grass.
A Common Yellowthroat is uncommonly handsome. And it’s wearing a mask!
It was my honor and great pleasure to be a speaker, tour guide, workshop instructor and auctioneer at Bluebirds Across Nebraska’s wonderful whoop-dee-do before the virus really hit the fan.
A pair of Brown Thrashers after failing to get under the limbo stick.
I hung out with some other drips this morning.
A Pileated Woodpecker has been as busy as a tall beaver.