Friday, September 17, 2004

Archilochus colubris

The ruby-throated hummingbird is the only hummer species found east of the Mississippi. Those folks in the southwest have sixteen (!) plus to enjoy, but I'm happy to get a glimpse of a ruby-throat once in a while. I attempted to maintain a hummingbird feeding station this year, but I admit I was too lackadaisical about it and I finally took the feeder down. When it comes to attracting hummers, often the surroundings are more important than the feeder. They love flowers and other enticements. Our yard can only be described as "mucky" and it is difficult to take much interest in improving it, as we are, after all, renting. I'll do better next year (hmm, did I say that last year?).

Hummingbirds in the hand are eerie--unlike many species, which squirm and bite, it seems like hummers look you right in the eye--and they often give a high-pitched sigh that just sends chills up my spine. I'm not advanced enough to handle hummers yet--I've only watched others--but they cast quite a spell.

Amazingly, ruby-throats fly over the Gulf of Mexico during their fall migration. The best explanation I've heard for how they do it equated migrating birds with "aerial plankton"; they ride the air currents, which helpfully are moving south in the fall and north in the spring (awesome).

Now, I know that a few posts ago I wrote, "come on Ivan," in a plea for some rain. Well, Ivan is almost here, and we do need the rain, but I am worried about my beloved migrants. I remember as a kid thinking that wild creatures were invincible to the elements--unfortunately that isn't true. Here's a sobering excerpt from "Migration of Birds" (see the link to the right):

"Storms
Of all the hazards confronting birds in migration, storms are one of the most dangerous. Birds that cross broad stretches of water can confront headwinds associated with a storm, become exhausted, and fall into the waves. Such a catastrophe was once seen from the deck of a vessel in the Gulf of Mexico, 30 miles off the mouth of the Mississippi River. Great numbers of migrating birds, chiefly warblers, were nearing land after having accomplished nearly 95 percent of their long flight when, caught by a "norther" against which they were unable to make headway, hundreds were forced into the waters of the Gulf and drowned. A sudden drop in temperature accompanied by a snowfall can cause a similar effect."

Folks have asked me before why migratory bird conservation is even an issue. "Aren't there enough to go around?" Well folks, those birds have already got their hands (or should I say bills?) plenty full without having to worry about habitat loss, pollution, and flying into buildings and towers.

Supposedly two tropical storms are closely following Ivan’s tail. Meanwhile the fall migration is in full swing. I’m afraid that the hurricane season is shaping up to be a tough one for our feathered friends. Wish them luck. They need it.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Falco peregrinus

Migratory restlessness, or zugenruhe, is a fun phenomenon. (Some say it is spelled zugunruhe, by the way). Lots of critters migrate. Desert ants, spiny lobsters, some bats, lots of birds, wildebeest, caribou, tuna, salmon, ahh the list goes on and on. There's even variation within some species--some individuals migrate, and others don't. One of my favorites is the peregrine falcon. "Peregrine" means wanderer (in some language that I don't know)--not only are they the fastest birds on the planet but some move as much as 25,000 miles a year. Pretty fancy.

Well, if you had to label me, I'd be classified as migratory. I've had a bit of guilt about this for years--why can't I stay put? Especially these days, when I have a nice nest with Mr. Nuthatch, and a nice kitty. Well, no one would ask a migratory spiny lobster to stay put. No one judges the spiny lobster as being any less lovable for having wanderlust. Luckily Mr. Nuthatch knew this about me before we built our little nest, so he doesn't mind and joins me when he can.

Right now I'm experiencing zugenruhe. If I was a warbler in a cage I'd be bouncing all over the place. So, in a few weeks I'm jumping ship. Just for a month or so. A chance to see the mountains and get some fresh air and play with my friend's dog and roll down hills and other crucial pre-winter activities. But then I'll come home and stay put until spring. Promise.

Another fun link for ya'll is over to the right, a USGS document about migratory birds. Woohoo!

Monday, September 13, 2004

Dryocopus pileatus

What a quiet day! I was out for a walk with Mr. Nuthatch and the highlight was being scolded by a pileated woodpecker. They really are fantastic--huge and loud. We're lucky to live in a neighborhood with lots of big trees so that we can spot these guys once in a while. Other than that we enjoyed setting off the touch-me-not (or jewel weed) seed pods, which enjoy a projectile seed dispersal mechanism.

As excited as I am about fall, it is a bit depressing to see things drying up. We need some rain! Come on Ivan. A few leaves are turning, and acorns started hitting our cars about two weeks ago. For the curious I've included a link to a fun page that describes the process by which deciduous leaves change color and eventually fall. Enjoy!

Saturday, September 11, 2004

Pyrrhactia isabella

Well, I've decided that it is fall. I've just run out of patience for summer. I'm not designed for hot weather. Everything in my body wants it to be cold, green, and foggy all the time. But, fall will do.

Today while rambling in the woods with Mr. Nuthatch we spied a woolly worm, a sure sign that summer is OVER. Now, some say that woolly worms foretell the future; to be specific the pattern on their fuzzy form indicates the severity of the upcoming winter. According to the University of Illinois extension service this is not true. But they're not having much fun, are they? Well, I am.

According to the woolly worm we saw today, the winter will be mild. The band of reddish-brown across its back was wide (the wider the band, the milder the winter). I can't say I'm excited about this because I tend to be pitiful in the wintertime--snow is the only good thing about it and we just don't get much to speak of here in D.C. But, I'll enjoy the fall and will keep looking for woolly worms nonetheless. By the way, the woolly worm is the caterpillar form of the Isabella tiger moth. And also, I hate to misinform--the "approved" common name for the woolly worm is the banded woolly bear. Could anything be finer?

Phalaropus tricolor

I should say a bit about the Wilson's phalarope we spotted yesterday. It was my first--quite elegant as it picked among the hydrilla. When speaking of this species most folks like to highlight "sexual role reversal"; females often have more than one mate, and the males tend to rear offspring. This particular bird was the only one of its kind in sight--keeping company and stalking the bay with a few lesser yellow-legs.

Today is a quiet Saturday. Mr. Nuthatch went on a long walk this morning (7 miles) down to the Krispy Kreme in Dupont Circle. If you're gonna walk a long way you might as well have an interesting destination. Me, I slept in late and took a bath. Now Mr. Nuthatch is asleep, and so is the cat. Quiet indeed.

The local crows seem to have discovered a raptor to harass--they are notorious for "mobbing" hawks and based on the racket they are making I think its safe to say that they've found one to keep them busy for a while. Good luck to the hawk.

Friday, September 10, 2004

Strix varia

I spent a fine morning at the banding station. It’s interesting how highlights often having nothing to do with the birds we're targeting. Today for example, we were walking the nets lanes and had a spectacular look at a barred owl. What was it doing out so late in the morning? Hopefully not going to investigate the birds in the net--in search of a tasty breakfast perhaps? Anyhow, it sure was fun to see. Other fun sightings included: butterflies: many species of skipper butterflies, some monarch caterpillars, a few eastern tiger swallowtails, a viceroy, an azure, etc. (I don't really know butterflies but if I hang out there enough I'll soon learn); birds: a bunch of indigo buntings, some blue grosbeaks, a northern parula, a hooded warbler (lovely in the hand), some northern shovelers, and a Wilson's phalarope (!). I admit that my favorite things to see out there are green tree frogs--from a distance they're like green gumdrops scattered through the leaves.

Other than that it’s been a quiet day. Went out to dinner with JB, and am looking forward to a quiet night at home with Mr. Nuthatch.


Thursday, September 09, 2004

Dumetella carolinensis

Perhaps you didn't know that gray catbirds kick ass. Well, they do. First of all, if you're lucky enough to have one in your yard, you will hear it calling "MYAA!" quite frequently. It rocks. Now, reputable bird guides claim the catbird says "Mew". Well, in my experience "MYAA!" is closer to the mark. They may be gray, but they have a bright red butt. In the bird world this is carefully referred to as the "vent". Ahem. They are close cousins to mockingbirds. While a singing mockingbird will mimic a sound one or more times, a catbird will only mimic a sound once, and then it moves to another. Lovely.

My adventures today included a visit to the chiropractor, a visit to see KM, and a trip to pottery class. Pottery is fun. You get to spend a lot of time beating clay. While I enjoy it immensely I have had a crick in my neck (similar to a piece of re-bar running into my shoulder) that even my chiropractor can't budge since beginning pottery. Thus I've had a headache for two weeks. This can only be described as super lame. Gotta work on that tension thing. I'll have to develop my own style of yoga pottery.

I'm off to wash the clay off, and prep for a pre-sunrise trip to my favorite banding station. Fun fun.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Sitta carolinensis

I should clarify. Troglodytes aedon is the latin name for the house wren, a pesky bird commonly found near human habitation due to its fondness for placing nests in dry and cozy corners and crevices. I tend to relate more strongly to the white-breasted nuthatch, Sitta carolinensis. Someone already named their blog The Nuthatch. But you'll hear from me as the nuthatch. That's me (no offense, person that I don't know who runs The Nuthatch).

Troglodytes adedon

Sure I could pick a more dramatic bird to host this blog, but truly this is the species I've paid the most attention to this year. A pair raised a clutch in my backyard in a nest box. Three chicks, one dead egg. The nest is pretty cool--mostly twigs pressed to create a semi-circle against the walls of the box... And so, this site will be in honor of the local house wrens, thanks to them for keeping me company this spring.