Northern Cardinal Baby

They say all babies are beautiful, but there has to be some exceptions.  

Nestled in a redbud tree, ten feet off the ground, exposed to the worldly perils of flightessness and helplessness, this baby Northern Cardinal waits to be fed.  Instinctively motionless when surprised, he froze in place. 

I found him by accident while pursuing a different bird through the

trees...House Finch…baby...got away.

  

But this younger baby Northern Cardinal didn’t have the ability to flee.  He was too young to fly…a captive subject.

He could just barely escape sidestepping along a branch.  Predation is a constant threat for young birds.  Some birds eat other birds…it’s just that way.  Raising a brood to adulthood takes good luck and experience in the bird world. 

Remaining unnoticed is a key survival tactic.

Nearby, a 1^st year Eastern Bluebird was foraging on the ground. He looked far more self-reliant than the young cardinal as he hunted alone.  But, there was danger for him, too…cats. Feral cats are a major predator on birds of all ages.  He was finding his own food while keeping an eye on his surroundings.  He found an earwig in the leaf litter and was about to enjoy it.

In the tree above him sat a somewhat older Eastern Bluebird.  He’s just now losing his spotted baby breast feathers and beginning to look more like an adult.

Meanwhile, the baby Northern Cardinal balanced midway between hunger and sleep, possibly dreaming of his next meal.  Composed while still exposed, he waited for a berry delivery from Dad.

I know I was holding up the food service as Dad landed in a nearby tree…beak stuffed with berries…eager for me to go away. 

I, too, remained still, hopefully hiding in plain sight.  I suspect he noticed something was amiss with me however…standing on a two-foot stepstool in a straw hat and flip-flops; I may not have been completely invisible to him.

It made me wonder, though, do Northern Cardinals know they are red and that a red bird in a green tree is not all that difficult to see either?

It didn’t bother me that I was delaying dinner, as berries are easy to find in August in Wisconsin and there would be a rapid recovery of the food service as soon as I left.  It’s not often I find a bird that can’t fly away and I was waiting for the money shot…feeding time.

Then baby cardinal spotted Dad and suddenly all of Dad’s deceptive dodging and stealthy tactics became pointless.  The rapid-fire, high-pitched chirps coming from this little cardinal’s beak notified everyone in earshot of his whereabouts and that he was hungry.

Adding to the danger of being tiny, vulnerable and alone, a Bald-faced Hornets nest was nearby. Bald-faced Hornets are easily excited, bad-tempered and tenacious in their attacks when someone disturbs the nest. Birds and hornets are not natural enemies, but my activity between these two could have tipped the balance…luckily it didn’t.  

Click to enlarge

The hornets came and went about their business without concern for either of us. 

When Dad arrived with a mouthful of fresh berries the young cardinal couldn’t contain his excitement.  Whatever he was chirping, Dad understood.  Dad was being cautious at first, and then darted in to deliver the goods to his impatient little offspring who had endured hunger long enough.

It’s magical how a mouthful of regurgitated black berries can immediately excite and brighten the day of a baby Northern Cardinal.

Allan

Killdeer on Tracks

Killdeer are practiced performers.   They put on an enjoyable show.  Their shows are playing over all of North America now, except Alaska.  It is a combination of air shows and stage performances. Killdeer are the main attractions.

Claiming the Killdeer name comes from its call takes a bit of imagination.  If true, my ear is not tuned well enough to hear ‘killdeer’ in it, so I'm not joining that discussion.  What I do appreciate is the Killdeer’s ability to convince a predator she is injured…stop hunting for my chicks…come and eat me instead.  It’s acting…that’s cunning!

Rising into the air, two of the six Killdeer complained loudly as they circled me. I was in this pair’s territory. They were insistent I leave. 

Killdeer lay their eggs on the ground in a scrape barely resembling a nest.  The vegetation along the railroad tracks was low...prime Killdeer habitat.  I searched for their eggs within the acres of short seedlings, but it was like finding a speckled brown marble in a hayfield. The pair hid their eggs well.   They were careful to keep it a secret, too.  Their whole purpose in circling and calling was to get my attention and draw me away.   

Twisting and contorting herself, she put on a convincing performance of an injured bird in trouble. 

The other Killdeer pairs watched this drama from a hundred feet away, but didn’t have a part.  

She played her part convincingly and acted out her dying scene on several stages. 

I watched from my seat sixty feet away…sort of the 30^th row.    

This act worked for her three time.  Each performance took me further and further down the tracks.  She was drawing me away, but I was getting the show for free.

At the end of each performance she would miraculously recover and trot away.  She even took bows…many, actually.  It is in the Killdeer’s nature to comically bob up and down when disturbed. I could interpret this bobbing as laughing at me, but I’d rather think not.  I left satisfied.

I recommend this show…two thumbs up.

Allan

House Wren Babies

Even with two parents working non-stop during summer's long daylight hours, it still isn’t enough to satisfy these two baby House Wren.  The doorway begging is continuous.

A plump spider momentarily quiets one baby, but another mouth is waiting.  The insect gathering continues with cafeteria line efficiency. Although as the babies grow, their food demand increases accordingly, so the cafeteria service speeds up, too. One parent or another delivers food every few minutes.

Sometimes the babies are quiet.  I suspect they might feel insecure then and don't want to give away their location. They will soon outgrow this small house and have to venture outside. That won’t stop them from begging for food though.  The babies have a lot to learn about how and where to gather their own food. The begging will continue in the trees.

For now, a single chek note, repeated continuously, keeps a parent House Wren hopping.

A large bright yellow-orange beak keep the parents motivated.

A bee and a bug...down-the-hatch.

The natural instinct to beg keeps this one from swallowing what’s already in his mouth.

With one parent departing and the other arriving the chow line keeps moving.

This meal requires an open-wide approach…it all fits.

The day ends late…the morning will arrive early...the cafeteria line needs to start up again. 

It's an all-to-brief rest for this parent of growing baby House Wrens.

Allan

Gray Catbird

She was quiet…just listening.

She hid in the thicket…a place Grey Catbirds prefer.

She liked his song and was interested in the singer.

The male Gray Catbird was fifty feet away and much higher in a tree.  He would have been interested in her, too, had he known she was there.

She returned his call.

She flew out of the thicket onto a low branch.  Now he saw her.  He flew down to meet her.

He wasn’t a bit shy.

He tried to get to know her, but he may have been too impatient.

He startled her.  

Whoa...not today.

Honestly, I have no idea what was going through their Gray Catbird brains.  The pictures tell a story…the interpretation is up to you.

Allan

House Wren

You’re likely to be scolded if you get too close to a House Wren’s nest.  They don’t put up with much, even if they are grossly out-matched.

The House Wren is a tiny bird with an 

out-sized attitude.  Willing to take on much larger birds, if it desires their nest sites or feels its own territory has been violated, the House Wren is a warrior.  Common throughout most of North and South America, the House Wren is a survivor, too. 

Cross a House Wren and you are likely to lose your nest site, your eggs and possibly your life, if you’re a bird.  They have been recorded evicting bluebirds, chickadees, swallows, and warblers…birds two to three times larger.

For all this aggressive behavior towards their neighbors, they sing a fairly sweet song...when not upset. That may be the key to getting on their good side…stay out of their face.  Watching from a distance could work, but it’s no guarantee. 

A well-placed wren house in an area of thicket and cover could attract one for close observation.  House Wrens don’t require anything special when it comes to a cavity either.  You could nail an old boot or soup can to a post and they will inspect it as a possible home.

Then listen for what we call a song, but is probably meant as a death threat to other birds.

Allan

Solitary Sandpiper

Solitary Sandpipers enjoy their own company.

It’s how they got their name.  Rarely seen in the company of other shorebirds, they prefer to be alone.  They are not known to migrate together nor form substantial flocks.  They’re just loners.

                                                                                                                  

                                                                                           I found this one, alone, probing a puddle for invertebrates in Mequon, Wisconsin. He was having good luck finding delicacies in the ankle deep water.

Patient and plodding, he was in no hurry to go anyplace else.  Walking slowly and stopping often to probe for food, he wasn't concerned with me only fifty-feet away either. He kept right on searching.

Relatively little is written about the Solitary Sandpiper because they’re solitary.  It’s difficult to find and study one solitary bird, compared to an entire flock of a species.  One interesting discovery relates to their peculiar nesting habit.  Instead of building a nest every year, they use an old abandoned nest…likely a blackbird, jay or robin nest from the prior year.   The female doesn’t add any new material and the male doesn’t bring any either.  She rearranges the existing material to her liking and lays her eggs wherever the nest is found.  They don’t feed their young either.  The young jump from the treetop nest to feed themselves soon after hatching.

Camouflaged from above by a spotted back, if threatened, he'd escape by flying straight up.  He didn't do that today…no need...he wasn't frightened by me.  When I left him, he just continued foraging...alone.

Allan