Tufted Titmouse Sings in January

Songs so cheerily sung by songbirds during breeding season are typically suspended during the long, cold winter. That's when our year-round residents, like the Tufted Titmouse, become somewhat stingy with their vocalizations, offering our hungry ears only scratchy or nasal chatter. (Photo courtesy of Ken Thomas.)

Months have passed since last I heard the rapidly whistled peter-peter-peter of the titmouse, though many individuals daily perch in the naked limbs of my birch trees, waiting a turn at the black-oil sunflower seeds. So a week ago, I was not at all prepared to hear a lovely, yet less insistent, rendition of this bird's whistling song.

It was last Saturday, while hiking with others at Canoe Creek State Park. On that relatively warm day (temperatures in the high 30's), we stood in the parking lot of the education center before departing, and I heard the sweet clarity of a springtime song.

"What bird is singing?" I said to my neighbor, who responded politely, "Well, I guess a titmouse."

Of course it was--but why hadn't I "heard" it as such?

I think expectation can explain part of it. For instance, sometimes you hear only what you expect to hear. Something out of place, then, simply doesn't "register." At least this has been my experience. But there was something more this time.

When I came home I listened to audio tapes of the Tufted Titmouse's song (on the web site All About Birds) and discovered two distinctly separate tempos taken from two different birds. One was much slower than the other and much like the song I had heard but not recognized. A note associated with the audio states "Females occasionally sing a quieter version of the song."

I wonder. Was ours a songstress impatient for the spring?

Till next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne

Northern Harrier: Third time's a charm

If you've been following my posts of late, you know that twice recently (1/8 and 1/15) I've seen what I thought was a Northern Harrier but failing to observe the necessary field marks, I couldn't "claim" either sighting.

Well yesterday that all changed when en route to Canoe Creek to join others on a short hiking expedition organized by the Juniata Valley Audubon. I was no more than two miles from home when I saw a large bird in the sky above a large pasture. At an altitude of a country silo, this bird was flapping long wings, seeming to "hang" in the air. The flapping looked tedious, almost like the bird was in some kind of trouble. I stared and stared driving down the road, closer and closer to the spectacle off to my right. What is wrong with that bird, I thought.

I slowed my car and took a good long look at this bird--a female Northern Harrier. As if posing just for me, she hung there in the air for a couple more seconds then commenced a forward flight--one that amply displayed her white rump and black tipped wings!

Bingo!

My last two possible sightings were of male harriers because they were pale all over, making the white rump less noticeable. But here was a dark female, her white rump contrasting nicely with her dark brown plumage. The photograph above (copyrighted by Walter Siegmund (C) 2006 and used with permission*) beautifully captures this graceful raptor, who has a facial disk, much like that of an owl.

Seeing this raptor's odd "in air" behavior, I recalled reading that harriers will sometimes "hover" over a field when spying their prey, mostly small rodents. So this lucky day, not only did I see one of my local, elusive harriers but she performed for me as well! You can't beat that!

So till next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne

*Permission is granted to copy, distribute and/or modify this document under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License . . .

A Red-belly Bullies Blue Jays

Can't seem to get away from writing about the Red-bellied Woodpecker that daily visits the white birch tree in my side yard. There, with dozens of Blue Jays, it vies for the black-oil sunflower seeds that I daily distribute at base of said tree and half a dozen or more other locations throughout the yard, including the feeders. (Image courtesy of Charles H. Warren.)

As you might recall from an earlier post (12/27), this season several dozen Blue Jays have designated my yard "Chow-down City" and each morning fly in groups from surrounding territories to spend the day gobbling up the seeds and bullying any bird in their way--except for one:

The Red-bellied Woodpecker

This lone male, with flaming red cap and nape and bold black striping on his back, is gorgeous to watch among the crowding jays. But more intriguing ... though somewhat smaller than the jay, this spunky fellow takes no nonsense from these aggressive, noisy birds. If anything, he intimidates them!

While other smaller and more timid birds scatter like leaves on the approach of even one jay, this woodpecker remains rooted while even a squadron lands about him. And beware the foolish jay who thinks to push aside his smaller neighbor. This flame-headed woodpecker pounces and the surprised "bully" jumps backward in surprise.

But I'm being too tough on my friends, the Blue Jays. After all I like them exactly as they are--showy, noisy, even bossy. And they, too, have their own troubles. On Christmas day, a birder and member/officer of the Juniata Valley Audubon, Stan Kotala, reported on the fate of one unfortunate jay. Seems a Cooper's Hawk swooped down through the branches of a massive red oak toward birds at a feeder and, as he posted it, "quickly sank its talons into the back of a blue jay that was frantically trying to escape."

Sigh.

So let's all live it up while we can! And till next time . . . keep birds in your heart.

Georgia Anne

Teased again . . .

Last week I wrote of a brief encounter with what most probably was a Northern Harrier. I couldn’t state so definitively, having failed to identify that bird’s distinctive characteristics. Thus, I was left with a hunch.

One of the characteristics that evaded my scrutiny last time was the harrier’s black-tipped wings. In fact, I closed last week’s post with a vow:


“If given another opportunity to see this bird, I’ll be sure to look for the white rump and black wingtips. A lesson I’ve learned from this failed effort!”

Can you guess where this is all leading? If you think to another possible harrier sighting, then you’re right! On Tuesday, driving along 53 North outside of Philipsburg, I was treated to two raptor sightings. The first, high in the blue sky, was a large, pale raptor with long white wings—heavily tipped in black. Not only that but this raptor was being escorted by three overly eager and noisy crows.

Then only moments later, still wearing a smile, I see yet another bird of prey sailing high across the afternoon sky—a Cooper’s Hawk, I suspect. I intended to post on the Cooper’s Hawk this evening but couldn’t access a Public Domain photo (my favorite site for these photos was “down). Well there’s always next week.

So until then, enjoy another photo of a male Northern Harrier. And remember to keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne

A Northern Harrier . . . Maybe?

The thing about birding is that often you must guess at what you’re seeing or hearing. Hopefully, it’s an educated guess, but even if something less, “guessing” is a venerable part of bird identification. (Public Domain image of a male Northern Harrier.)

Take this example: on Sunday afternoon while driving home, I spotted in the distance a large, hawk-sized bird. My perspective allowed only a brief view of a creamy expanse of underwing and a russet “glow.” These wings were long and elegant. My immediate thought was Northern Harrier because of the wingspan and light plumage. Males have white underwings and bellies with gray backs. Females have dark brown backs and dark barred underwings. I thought male harrier because, though I didn’t see his back, my sense of the bird’s coloring overall was light.

The typical markings birders look for when identifying a harrier is a white rump (very pronounced against a female’s dark plumage, much less noticeable with a male) or the bird’s black wingtips. These are often described as “dipped in ink.” While my vantage didn’t allow me a view of the bird’s rump, neither did I make a mental image of black-tipped wings—but that doesn’t mean they weren’t there. My focus could have been elsewhere.

So where does all this speculation leave me? To be quite honest—nowhere.

I simply didn’t get a good enough look. However, attempting to identify this bird did give me reason to dive into my Peterson and Sibley guides, where I scanned images of many different raptors, including owls, looking for other possible candidates. Likewise I investigated images online and even posed a question to my local birding listserv.

All this investigation brought the juvenile harrier to the foreground, described by the Cornell Lab as “similar to adult female, but with rusty wash across mostly unstreaked underparts.” And yet my bird’s stomach appeared white to me with a gentle russet “glow.” That’s the best I can explain it.

If given another opportunity to see this bird, I’ll be sure to look for the white rump and black wingtips. A lesson I’ve learned from this failed effort!

Till next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

A New Year and Old Friends

Happy New Year 2010!



To begin this first day of 2010, I briefly considered revisiting one of my favorite posts (bird encounters) from last year. But of course I quickly realized there's no possible way to pick my favorite bird or encounter. Each bird is different and therefore special. Then I considered writing on a bird (or birds) I encountered this year but never posted on. Immediate candidates jumped to mind from my April trip to Arkansas--Great and Snowy Egrets. But that idea didn't set right with me either. This blog is meant to reflect my current encounters so that others (in my region of the country) can look for the same birds outside their windows or in their yards.

No. Rather than look behind, I decided to look at the present. And this day, like many before it, at my bird feeders, I've been watching juncos, blue jays, cardinals, titmice, black-capped chickadees, starlings, nuthatches, a few stray wintering goldfinch, house finches, downy and red-bellied woodpeckers, mourning doves, and crows (in the early morning). Some others as well but not with the daily attendance of those listed.

I did notice that my post for New Year's Day 2009 was of the Dark-eyed Junco. And that's only appropriate as the junco is a "snow bird." So, how much more appropriate this year to treat you to a short video of several juncos, being very vocal, during a brief snow shower this afternoon. You'll also see a few of my other friends, including a goldfinch, chickadee, and a blue jay.

Here's wishing your new year is filled with birds and birdsong!

Till next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne