They are Making a Nest Where?

I am convinced that wrens are part human, because they share some characteristics with us.  They would never, on the driest, warmest day, consider building a nest outside that would be unprotected from rain, hail, and a plethora of other meteorological discomforts when there is a perfectly good porch, eve, or garage for the taking.   Like us, I believe, they are doing it mostly for the comfort of their young when the blessed events occur.

I have found Carolina wrens, Thryothorus ludovicianus,  (such a big name for a little bird) making nests in the strangest places.  Once or twice they made nests in my fishing boots hanging in the garage.  They built in a cowboy boot I had there, and a number of niches, shelves, and pots they could commandeer.  But the most surprising of all was a cap, which I hadn't worn in a while, hanging by the door.  When I started to put it on, a wren flew almost in my face - that episode convinced me that I have a healthy heart.  


Not that they don't pay rent, of a sort; the two you see in the pictures, well, there are two, a male and a female, both doing the task of building, give me immeasurable entertainment as I watch them bring in pine needles, dried leaves, tinder, and all other kinds of building material.

When I pointed it out to my wife, she said, "They can't build there, I need to water my plant."

Not to be undone, I got an empty hanging basket and filled it with artificial vines and replaced the petunias with it.  I even took some of their nest material and placed it in the bottom.  I then anxiously waited to see what the wrens would do.


The basket is outside the living-room window.

"Hmm, looks pretty good"

This is the initial inspection.  To pass   inspection, the  site must be secure, dry, and roomy with just the right amount of privacy.

Less than an hour later one lit on the edge of the basket with a dried leaf in it beak and went down into the basket.  Haaa!  They had bought it. 


This is a couple of weeks later and the babies have hatched.  I carefully looked inside and they have three wide-mouthed, demanding, hungry chicks.



This is probably Dad taking out the trash.  Most birds remove feces daily keeping a clean nest to avoid infection of their young.





On the subject of photography, I recently bought a cheap Fujifilm s4200 camera which serves my purposes.  It cost $153 from Amazon.  I could have chosen a Nikon or Canon for $500+, but I don't need those.

Mine is a "bridge camera," which looks like the expensive ones but isn't.  It has 14 megapixel, 24 power zoom, macro and super macro, and it also has a viewfinder, as well as the LCD screen.  I must have a viewfinder because in some situations it is very much needed.  In the above pictures I was shooting through double-paned glass, which I think is pretty good, but I doubt that National Geographic will be calling me any time soon.

Turkey in the... Straw?

My wife called me from downstairs, "Bob, come see what is in the front yard!"  Images ran through my mind in that split second: Elvis? Aliens? Grizzly bears?  Honest politicians?

I ran to the living room and looked outside.  There was a turkey hen wallowing in the grass, probably to get rid of mites.  She put on quite a show for us, staying about 30 minutes.  I got some pretty decent pictures, even though it was through the window glass.

The American turkey, Meleagris gallopavo, is a uniquely American bird.  Wikipedia says that when the Europeans first saw them in the New world, they noticed that they resembled a kind of guinea fowl, also known as turkey fowl that they were familiar with.  They were known as "turkey fowl" because they were from Turkey.  Later the "fowl" was dropped and the American turkey became just "turkey."

We all know the story about  Ben Franklin wanting the American turkey to be our national bird, and I can understand why: they are native to America; they are a beautiful bird with the males having the colors, red, white, and blue on the head and neck. In addition, the males and young males, called "jakes" have a strand of feathers hanging down from their breasts called its "beard."  Finally, they are a very intelligent bird, not like the domestic ones which have been bred to be fat and stupid.

Anyone, including myself, who has ever turkey hunted knows how hard they are to kill.  Game laws require that only the toms can be hunted, by calling like a hen during mating season, convincing them that a hen is interested.  In nature it is the hen which goes to the gobbling tom.  Wild turkeys have excellent eyesight, are able to see colors, have great hearing, and are smart.  In addition, they are graceful, terrific flyers able to get off the ground without running, as many large birds must do. Like Ben, I believe the wild turkey should be our national bird.

Luna Moth

Earlier this evening I discovered a beautiful lime-green moth fluttering around the light in the garage.  It was obviously injured or just dying from having lived out its life span.

I caught it, placed it on a black pillow and took this picture.

"Luna" means "moon," and I think the name is perfect because I see them only at night.  The luna moth, Actias luna, of the order lepidoptera, as are all moths and butterflies. Lepidopthera is a Greek combining form that means scales and wings.

I think the luna is particularly stunning because of its size and color.  This one is close to four inches across its wings, and the lime-green color is most pleasing.

I have an outside light, not the ugly sulphur, orange that is seen on city streets, but a natural-looking light, near the garage, and each spring and summer I am rewarded with all kind of insects, and of course, bats catching them.  The light has created a microcosm of insects, little brown bats, toads, and who knows what else.  On warm spring and summer nights after dark I go outside to their little world and marvel at the abundance and variety of life.  There is always a surprise waiting for me.  I am never disappointed at what I find.

In some ways that little world is reminiscent of a battlefield.  After a night of activity with insects looking for mates and bats and toads looking for a meal, the next morning one can see the soldiers strewn over the ground - dead and dying moths and and a variety of other insects.  Such is nature's way.

Also under the light are three yucca plants, which bloom in the summer.  Their white blossoms grow on long shoots which grow up from the plant.  I understand the only pollinator is the yucca moth, which I have yet to see.  This summer I am going to find one on a blossom.  They may visit the plant at night. 

Can You See Me?

Io moth

It has always interested me in some animals' ability to blend in with their environment so that they can barely, or not at all, be seen.  This natural camouflage that many have is really remarkable.  Or another example is it's  disguise to look like something else, perhaps threatening to a predator.

The io moth, Automeris io, comes to mind as a good example.  Look at the picture here at what appears to be two large eyes on its wings.  And what is most astounding is that there are two large eyes complete with eyebrows and even the appearance of reflections of light on the "pupils" of the eyes.  This is truly amazing.  Look at the moth upside down and it looks like some weird animal's head.  The io moth is best example of animal mimicry that I know.   It's no wonder that a bird would think twice before attempting to eat such a scary-looking thing. To me it is a little owl-like in its appearance, which songbirds would certainly stay away from.

I found these wing under my outside security light.  At first I thought they were from the io moth, but on closer inspection, I see they aren't.  The closest one I could find in my insect field guide is the Polyphemus moth, Antheraea polyphemus.
named after Polyphemus, the one-eyed giant in Greek mythology.  I must do some more research.

There is a great little amphibian and every time I see it, I marvel at its ability to blend in with the green leaves.  It is the American green tree frog, Hyla cinerea, which is active just after a rain.  It is about 6 inches long and when it calls, it is a rather hoarse sound for such a little creature.  If you didn't know differently, you might think it is much larger.  It sounds a little like a bull frog, but not nearly as deep.  The males do the calling to announce to the females that they are ready to mate.

I took this picture the other morning when I heard it in a magnolia tree in my yard.  I went out to the tree and stood really still and waited for it to call again before I could located it.  I have noticed that animals which use camouflage will let you get a lot closer to them because, they believe they can't be seen. 

This frog is easier to see than the killdeer above because he didn't quite match himself to the correct shade of green of the leaves, but did a pretty good job. The frog in the first picture is easily seen, but not as much so in the second.  Can you see it?  It's in the middle of the picture.

Literature says that the American green tree from is found in South Carolina, Georgia, and Louisiana, but I have seen them here in NC many times.  I believe it is the state amphibian for both Georgia and Louisiana. 

A couple of days ago I rode my motorcycle over to the church I attend and saw one of the killdeer I wrote about before.  I was beside a pebble walkway and the killdeer ran to it and stopped.  It blended into the background so well I had to look carefully to see it.  In this picture you may not be able to see it, but it's there.  It is standing next to the cement border and slightly turned away from you, just a little below the concrete seam.  See if you can find it.

The killdeer is there but hard to find

A couple of summers ago I was picking blackberries near my house in a very dense thicket of briars and weeds when I heard something move near me.  I knew it was a snake of some sort, but we have copperheads around here, and although I had boots on, I didn't want to stand near  it.  So I stood really still and looked for it but couldn't make out a thing.  The ground had dead leaves on it,  and a snake's color and patterns can look like those.  I knew it wasn't a black snake because they really stand out.

It then made a slight movement and I saw its shape emerge from the brown-mottled field of leaves.  It was a rather large copperhead, A. contortrix, - a pit viper, and there is no mistaking them.  During most of the year, their heads are of a copper color and are triangular shaped, which indicate that they are venomous.  They are a beautiful light and darker brown browns.  It quickly moved away from me and I was a bit nervous, even though copperheads are not that dangerous and are not really quick to bite, unless you step on one.  It seems they had rather avoid a confrontation, for which I am very glad.

I wouldn't kill a copperhead or even a rattlesnake out in the woods or fields away from my house.  They are more beneficial to us than they are harmful.  North Carolina has the dubious distinction of having the most venomous snake bites annually.  The reasons for most snake bites are carelessness and handling.

When I am out and about  in thick areas like I mentioned, I will make a lot of noise and stamp the ground with my foot occasionally and any snake around will usually leave.  They have no sense of hearing, but they can feel vibration on the ground.  I think they can judge the size of something by the vibration it makes when it walks and they wouldn't want to get trampled by a cow or horse. 

Frustrated Bumblebee

This large beautiful insect has been at my window feeder all morning.  I don't usually color my nectar, but I thought I'd try it to see if any strangers showed up, maybe attracted by the color. This very large bumble bee, bombus,  seems so frustrated.  She  keeps flying around the delicious red nectar trying to find a way in.

It is kind of sad, being so close to something so wonderful and it's being only a fraction of an inch away and can't get to it. She is a bit like Tantalus, a Greek mythological figure who killed his children and fed them to the gods, and Zeus, for eternal punishment, made Tantalus stand in water under a fruit tree with wonderful fruit and when he tried to get it, it would move a little out of his grasp.  If he bent down to take a drink, the water would recede.  So we have tantalize, meaning to keep someone from getting something that is close, but never being able to get it, among some other meanings.

I have read that bumble bees are rather aggressive, but I have never found that to be true, but I have never dug out one of their nests, which are made underground.  I don't believe that would be wise.  You can't blame them; they are protecting what is theirs.  I have only seen them busily collecting pollen and unknowingly fertilizing many, many plants.  You can gently touch one and never get stung.  That has been my experience, but I am not recommending it.  What a wonderful insect, along with honey bees.  The world would be a vastly different place without them. 

Universal Communication

I was at my computer, which is at a window in my upstairs bedroom, when a female ruby-throated hummingbid began flying back and forth outside, looking in at me.  It was clear to me that she was trying to communicate with me to put a feeder there.  So I got out a feeder and filled it and hung it from the eve.  Not much longer than an hour later, she reappeared and began feeding, as you see in the picture.

The age-old question is "do animals communicate with us?"  We know that they communicate with each other - bird songs, and by animals too numerous to mention, calls, growls, hisses, etc.

But more amazing, in Austria, Karl von Frisch observed European honey bees doing a "waggle dance" to tell the other worker where it had found a food source, not only where, but how distant the source was.  This, to me, is astounding that a lowly insect could communicate information such as that to each other.  That being true, think of how the higher animals' level of communication, both verbal and non verbal, must be. 

We once had a cocker spaniel who learned that the word, "trash," meant that I was going to the landfill and she began jumping around eager to go with me .  So when I didn't want her to go, to fool her, I began spelling t-r-a-s-h to tell my wife where I was going.  Guess what?  She learned to spell!  Any dog owner will substantiate this.  I have noticed that people who don't spend a lot of time in nature observing animals, assign them pretty low status when it comes to intelligence.  But we who do, know differently.

Several summers ago paper wasps, Polistes carolina, had built a large nest in a low window off from my deck.  I decided to conduct an experiment.  Each day I would get a little closer to the nest and they would give me the warning sign consisting of quick movements but not flying off their nest.  I would then back off, trying to let them know that I wasn't a threat.  Each day I got a little closer and eventually I could hold my finger just next to them.  They would still do the jerky movements, at which time I would retract my finger a little.

This is the astounding part and something many people to whom I have told it looked at me as though I was a bit "teched" in the head.  I actually got so close with my finger I could very lightly touch them.  At first they would give me a tiny sting, not the kind that, when one is chasing you and lights on your neck, it feels like all hell is loosed, but just a little sting that is hardly felt - a message to say, "I don't really fear you, but you are too close."  This to me proves that it can regulate the amount of venom it releases.  (Biologists know that venomous snakes, like rattle snakes and copperheads do this also). It is a method of conserving the venom when the threat is not great.  Again I would move my finger back and repeat it a bit later.  I actually, after a while, could lightly stroke the back of a wasp and it didn't sting me.

Just as with people, animals read non-verbal signals, and they are very good at it.  Just yesterday out in my yard was an eastern cottontail rabbit that has been hanging around and eating the clover in my yard.  A lot of animals are much "tamer" in summer as they are in winter.  If I walk perpendicular to and very close to the rabbit and not look at it, it will continue eating, but if I stop and look at it, it is off like a shot.  Wolves use this technique.  Before forming for an attack on large prey, bison and such, they will amble along looking uninterested and the prey will sense no danger, then slowly they will form into a unit, ready for their attack.  This ploy works and the wolves know it.

To me this is not surprising because any animal, to survive, must know and be able to manipulate aspects of its environment, just as we do.  Very few of us are so stupid as to jam our hands into a hornet's nest or walk between a mother bear, or for that matter, almost any mother animal, and its young.  Do that, and you will need to have your burial insurance paid up.

No Luck Today

I got up early and went turkey hunting again this morning, but no luck, for me, that is, but luck for that big tom or jake.   If this keeps going like it is, I'm going to have to go to the local Food Lion and buy one.

But it was by no means a waste of time.  The sun was filtering through the light-green of the budding maples, poplars, and other hardwoods.  As an extra bonus wild dogwoods are in full bloom with their whites gleaming through the green like an errant snowfall.  All kinds of "critters" were out and about this morning.  The spring warblers (of which I can identify none) were singing their hearts out.  Cardinals and noisy bluejays were resounding their individual notes through the woods.  Sometimes I imagine my being an Indian and waiting for that buck or turkey.  I was in perfect harmony with nature - I killed what I ate or I didn't eat - meaning  if I were unlucky, just branch lettuce, arrow root, and what we had put away from last year's harvest: pumpkins, beans, corn (maize).  There would be some dried fish, but I would have preferred the native trout in streams rife with them.

Several years ago I was traveling from Maryland and driving through Virgina going south I saw a river far below me.  It had an old rock weir.  It stretched across the river, most of it intact, with the center a funnel-shape for herding the fish into it. It was exciting to see something like that that Indians had made and it had survived all those years.

Standoff

I have a cheap trail camera like hunters use to locate animals.  I use mine to photograph nocturnal animals that I might not see during the daytime or rarely.  Instead of the fancy infrared, mine takes only flash pictures.  I left corn out, along with a salt block to see what I could photograph. I got this picture in the winter of 2010.  This buck, as well as several raccoons had been coming on a regular basis.

I like this picture because it seems as though the buck is challenging the raccoon.  A picture is just a moment in time and usually out of context, but the result is sometimes interesting. Although raccoons are feisty little animals, and I understand their nearest relatives are bears, this one wouldn't stand a chance against that "rack."

A Terrible Thing I Had to Do

About two years ago I was burning some trash in a barrel - paper, mostly, when I noticed an old wooden birdhouse in a notch of a tree.  It hadn't been used in a long time and I decided to burn it.  I threw it into the roaring fire and a flying squirrel came out and I could see little ones inside it.  I grabbed the house and threw it out and in so ding I lightly burned my arm, but I couldn't get the adult.  I couldn't stand the horror of her burning and I grabbed a metal rod that I used to stir the burning trash and killed her with it.  The little ones were about grown and were unharmed by the fire.  I put the house back in the notch of the tree with them in it.  I hope they were big enough to fend for themselves.

I still feel very bad about it, but I had no way of knowing there were flying squirrels there.  One should always check things before doing what I did.

A few months later I was walking down my driveway to the mailbox and as I walked beside a bradford pear tree where I had a birdhouse I saw something inside.  It was a furry little head with two great big eyes.  At that moment I was hoping that it was one of the little ones that almost died in the fire.

The eastern flying squirrel, Glaucomys volans, of the order, rodenta, is a beautiful little animals.  Their fur is as soft as a vicuna's, of South America.  Thank God, they are so small that it wouldn't be cost effective to raise them for the fur trade.

I have seen many close-up in the woods.  They are primarily nocturnal, as is evidenced by their very large eyes. But sometimes they venture out of their homes in the day, which is usually a hole in a tree.  With all the timber cutting, they are losing their homes, unfortunately.  I don't believe they build nests of leaves and twigs like gray squirrels, so they are in danger of extinction.

Once when I was deer hunting in a swampy place just after daylight, I saw a gray streak of something gliding toward me from up in a tree.  I was standing by an oak and it landed on the opposite side, not knowing I was there.  As quietly and as slowly as I could, I peered around the tree and I was at eye-level with it.  It was an amazing experience, one that I will never forget.

A Beautiful Visitor

I came back from town this morning and saw a beautiful bird at my feeder.  This male indigo bunting, Passerina cyanea, was eating the "woodpecker recipe" suet, which is available at Walmart.  It never ate any of the sunflower seeds I have above the suet feeder.  He didn't seem at all scared while I got many pictures of him.  The only indigos I've seen in all my birding were near dirt roads - never at a feeder or even in my yard. 


The female is a dull brown, like so many females are:  cardinals, house finches, purple finches, etc. compared to the males.  But they are less likely to be seen when nesting.

When driving along country roads in spring and summer, if you suddenly see a bright blue flash, don't worry, you are not having a stroke, it surely will be this beautiful bird.

Butterflies

This morning I went out to check my azaleas, which are loaded with blooms this spring, to see if there were any interesting things feeding on the blooms.  There were the usual bumblebees, honeybees, and several Papilio glaucus, Eastern tiger swallowtail butterflies, flitting about on the blossoms.  They are quite hard to photograph because they spend so little time on each blossom.

In this picture, the swallow tail can easily be seen.

Butterflies, papillion, in French and mariposas in Spanish are beautiful creatures with beautiful names. They remind me of colorful fall leaves which have acquired the ability to fly about from flower to flower.  But they are as fragile as they are lovely.  One can't be touched without its losing some of the "powder" which coats its wings.

The wonderful migrating monarch resembles the swallowtail, but there are differences.  Like the humming birds, the monarch flies hundreds of miles south to a certain place in Mexico to winter.  How they do it, their being seemingly so fragile is difficult to understand.  The differences between the two are that the monarch lacks the swallowtail and the patterns are different, but the colors are similar and hard to discern unless they are close to you.

I have always planned to become more familiar with the different ones - I even bought a great field guide, but use it for identification rather than to study and learn the wide variety of these beautiful insects.

To me, butterflies, more than any other living things, herald the beginning of spring. I remember when I was a child growing up in the country, the rule of thumb to determine when it was warm enough to go barefoot, was when we could count three different butterflies in a day.  Then it was, "shoes off!" "Freedom!"... but stone bruises and briar scratches - but who cared, we were young and would easily mend.

Besides, in a few weeks, our soles would be as tough as leather.