When we first moved into this house there was a mother squirrel with four babies living in the dead, hollow tree in the backyard. It was difficult to determine the mother from her four babies as she is very small, but sometimes a strong wind would come up and she would stretch her paw across the back of one of the baby squirrels to help keep them on the branch. This, I knew, must be the mother.
It is instinctive, like when a mother is driving alone in a car and is forced to stop fast, but finds herself flinging her arm across the passenger seat to keep a child from jerking forward, a child who is not in the car! I recognized this movement in the squirrel. Her child was firmly perched on that branch, but she braced the baby with her paw, just in case...
The contractor building the house next door explained that he used to own this house and the tree was dead then, but mother squirrels have used the tree for as long as anyone can remember to raise their young, so no one cuts the tree down.
Gradually, over the summer, the four baby squirrels disappeared. I assumed they moved on to find homes of their own. In fact, I'm fairly certain one has moved into the neighbor's backyard tree!
When I returned from Colorado, I noticed a small squirrel lying beneath a tree on its belly. It was a feisty little thing, chattering loudly at the dogs and I whenever we walked outside. Before I left, I noticed we were down to one again and assumed it was a rogue male. The squirrel would scamper into the tree when I came outside and sit level with my eyes where the branches divided, watching me calmly, waiting for me to take the dogs back inside.
I usually knock loudly on the window, then the door, then open the door a crack and shout "dog" to give the squirrel a chance to climb the tree, but one afternoon, as I walked in and out the back door, Chewy the Chihuahua (A.K.A. the Chewchewcabra) snuck out the door and chased the squirrel into the tree. The squirrel was so angry he did not stop chattering for a long time. I was convinced it was a male then because it was so feisty!
I was wrong. A few days ago, when I rapped on the window, the squirrel stood up on its hind legs and looked around for the dogs. As soon as the squirrel raised its body I realized it is not only a female, but it is pregnant. It is the mother squirrel, still so tiny it is difficult to tell that she is fully grown. I am amazed that she somehow managed to carry and raise four babies on her own!
Now, it is late summer and the temperatures in the Texas Hill Country often reach 110 degrees. Momma squirrel is hot and tired and often chatters loudly when Chewy runs outside (she doesn't seem to mind my husband and I, or our two chocolate labs). When we go back indoors, she scratches a curved space into the dirt and lies down beneath the tree with her belly in the cool space of the hole she just created.
We are on water restrictions because of the drought. There is no lawn on this rental property, so we use out water allotment to water the trees and leave water in small dishes for the birds who flock to our house in large numbers. I fill a clay plant pot tray with water and they use this to bathe and clean their feathers.
Momma squirrel now digs her belly hole in the space where we water as the dirt is damp and cool. I think of all the little creatures in our yard, she probably appreciates the water more than most. She still chatters loudly when Chewy comes outside. We have named her Lady Chatterley.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Back in Texas...
I am home from Colorado and already miss the Sparrow Hawks, Red Tail Hawks, and the little yellow American Goldfinches that would swoop low over the swimming pool as the children splashed and played.
It was a stormy three-day drive with thunderstorms in Colorado, New Mexico, and the Texas panhandle, but the hawks and crows were in their place, watching and guiding me. The crows that watch the highways in New Mexico are so big I sometimes mistake them for hawks as I drive past.
When I finally arrived home, the first thing I did was fill the water dishes for the wild birds in the back yard and fill the seed dishes and trays. When I came inside, I noticed the birds in the tray outside the window. The little Titmouses, the Northern Cardinals, and the Scrub Jays.
The Cardinal family is still here. The father and mother and their four babies. The babies are going through those awkward teenage changes, but instead of fighting acne, they're colorful feather are filling in. The male teenage cardinals look rather funny when they go through this stage. The three females look awkward, too, though the changes in thetir color is not quite as obvious as their brother.
And true to their nature, my two Colorado chocolate labs are now perched in front of the air conditioner, wiping their brows and complaining about the heat while my Texas chihuahua is lying in the heat from the sunlight piercing the bedroom window glass.
It was a stormy three-day drive with thunderstorms in Colorado, New Mexico, and the Texas panhandle, but the hawks and crows were in their place, watching and guiding me. The crows that watch the highways in New Mexico are so big I sometimes mistake them for hawks as I drive past.
When I finally arrived home, the first thing I did was fill the water dishes for the wild birds in the back yard and fill the seed dishes and trays. When I came inside, I noticed the birds in the tray outside the window. The little Titmouses, the Northern Cardinals, and the Scrub Jays.
The Cardinal family is still here. The father and mother and their four babies. The babies are going through those awkward teenage changes, but instead of fighting acne, they're colorful feather are filling in. The male teenage cardinals look rather funny when they go through this stage. The three females look awkward, too, though the changes in thetir color is not quite as obvious as their brother.
And true to their nature, my two Colorado chocolate labs are now perched in front of the air conditioner, wiping their brows and complaining about the heat while my Texas chihuahua is lying in the heat from the sunlight piercing the bedroom window glass.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Bug Life at the Park
I was at the park with my grandchildren when we suddenly noticed an abundance of flying bugs, possibly a type of wasp. After closely examining the photos, I believe they may have been Ichneumon Wasps, though I cannot see any white on their antennae.
The wasps were not bothering us at all. They hovered over the sand, digging holes, crawling inside, crawling back out, then covering the holes. After we watched them for a bit, we decided they were either looking for food in the sand, or laying eggs. We could actually see them moving tiny pebbles, pebbles that looked like boulders compared to the size of the wasp!
I suspect this is a type of Digger Wasp, or Miner Wasp. The reason for the digging is rather unpleasant, in a way. They paralyze their prey, stuff the prey inside the holes, then lay their eggs in the holes and their larvae eats the paralyzed prey.
I have read a few interesting stories regarding the behavior of these wasps. Apparently, they are capable of memorizing every last detail surrounding their nest. They fly off, then quickly return to check on the nest. The book Wasps and Their Ways by Margaret Morley explains how one can place a leaf across the entrance to the nest, and the wasp will frantically fly about, confused by the altered appearance, though certain she is in the right place. When the leaf is removed, she will calmly check on the nest, then search for prey.
Another article describing Digger Wasps explains the theories of philosopher Daniel Dennett who compares the behavior of Digger Wasps to the concept of Free Will. According to this article, the digger wasp brings its prey to the nest, leaves the prey outside while it inspects the nest, then comes back out to retrieve the prey and stuff it inside the nest. If the prey is moved, the wasp will locate the prey and move it back in the nest, but repeat its behavior of inspecting the nest first before depositing the prey inside, even though it has already inspected the nest.
We did not observe the wasps depositing prey in the nests. We observed the wasps digging holes in the sand, climbing into the sand, returning head first and flying out of the holes, and sometimes covering the holes back up. They could be a different type of wasp altogether who is simply depositing eggs in the sandbox. There were many of them, though. So many that we stopped playing and returned home.
A week later, we returned to the park. There was a few wasps, but not nearly as many as the first trip, so we decided to play. Suddenly, we noticed a type of creature that appeared to be a type of centipede crawling through the sand, many of them, very small, and dark brownish-red. We could not identify these bugs, either, so we decided to leave in case they were biters.
As we left, we noticed that a pair of swallows has a nest in the bar that holds up the swing set. The birds were flying in and out with...bugs. Apparently, nature has taken over the playground.
The wasps were not bothering us at all. They hovered over the sand, digging holes, crawling inside, crawling back out, then covering the holes. After we watched them for a bit, we decided they were either looking for food in the sand, or laying eggs. We could actually see them moving tiny pebbles, pebbles that looked like boulders compared to the size of the wasp!
I suspect this is a type of Digger Wasp, or Miner Wasp. The reason for the digging is rather unpleasant, in a way. They paralyze their prey, stuff the prey inside the holes, then lay their eggs in the holes and their larvae eats the paralyzed prey.
I have read a few interesting stories regarding the behavior of these wasps. Apparently, they are capable of memorizing every last detail surrounding their nest. They fly off, then quickly return to check on the nest. The book Wasps and Their Ways by Margaret Morley explains how one can place a leaf across the entrance to the nest, and the wasp will frantically fly about, confused by the altered appearance, though certain she is in the right place. When the leaf is removed, she will calmly check on the nest, then search for prey.
Another article describing Digger Wasps explains the theories of philosopher Daniel Dennett who compares the behavior of Digger Wasps to the concept of Free Will. According to this article, the digger wasp brings its prey to the nest, leaves the prey outside while it inspects the nest, then comes back out to retrieve the prey and stuff it inside the nest. If the prey is moved, the wasp will locate the prey and move it back in the nest, but repeat its behavior of inspecting the nest first before depositing the prey inside, even though it has already inspected the nest.
We did not observe the wasps depositing prey in the nests. We observed the wasps digging holes in the sand, climbing into the sand, returning head first and flying out of the holes, and sometimes covering the holes back up. They could be a different type of wasp altogether who is simply depositing eggs in the sandbox. There were many of them, though. So many that we stopped playing and returned home.
A week later, we returned to the park. There was a few wasps, but not nearly as many as the first trip, so we decided to play. Suddenly, we noticed a type of creature that appeared to be a type of centipede crawling through the sand, many of them, very small, and dark brownish-red. We could not identify these bugs, either, so we decided to leave in case they were biters.
As we left, we noticed that a pair of swallows has a nest in the bar that holds up the swing set. The birds were flying in and out with...bugs. Apparently, nature has taken over the playground.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
A lizard in suburban Colorado?
The last thing I expected to see crossing the sidewalk as we walked to the park was a lizard.
They are quite common in Texas. In fact, I see three or four a day. And I'm sure they are also common in Colorado, but to be honest, the only place I've ever seen them in Colorado is down south, near Mesa Verde.
At first, my grandchildren and I stood and stared. None of us expected to see a lizard this far north where the snow is sometimes six feet deep in winter, and in fact, winter dragged on this year until May! But there it was, a tiny lizard, sunbathing on the sidewalk. We crept slowly forward, and when I realized it was, indeed, a little lizard, I slowly moved to its side, talking to it, photographing its lovely head and tail. The grandchildren followed my example, creeping closer and closer, using soft, soothing voices.
Lizards enjoy this type of conversation with soft voices and baby talk. They often turn their heads and look at you sideways--as this one died--as if they are trying to understand the conversation. After awhile, though, he seemed to get a bit nervous, realizing he was surrounded by giants, and scampered beneath a nearby fence.
After downloading the pictures and searching diligently on the Colorado State University website, I have determined it was a female Prairie Lizard. They prefer sunny, rocky habitats and cliffs, downed logs, and forested areas, though they prefer ground areas. The females lay their eggs in June, July and August, so it's possible it had eggs nearby.
My daughter's house is in the foothills, so close that we can walk into the lower hills at the base of the mountains. I suppose it isn't that rare to find this type of lizard in this area, I was just surprised to see it!
They are quite common in Texas. In fact, I see three or four a day. And I'm sure they are also common in Colorado, but to be honest, the only place I've ever seen them in Colorado is down south, near Mesa Verde.
At first, my grandchildren and I stood and stared. None of us expected to see a lizard this far north where the snow is sometimes six feet deep in winter, and in fact, winter dragged on this year until May! But there it was, a tiny lizard, sunbathing on the sidewalk. We crept slowly forward, and when I realized it was, indeed, a little lizard, I slowly moved to its side, talking to it, photographing its lovely head and tail. The grandchildren followed my example, creeping closer and closer, using soft, soothing voices.
Lizards enjoy this type of conversation with soft voices and baby talk. They often turn their heads and look at you sideways--as this one died--as if they are trying to understand the conversation. After awhile, though, he seemed to get a bit nervous, realizing he was surrounded by giants, and scampered beneath a nearby fence.
After downloading the pictures and searching diligently on the Colorado State University website, I have determined it was a female Prairie Lizard. They prefer sunny, rocky habitats and cliffs, downed logs, and forested areas, though they prefer ground areas. The females lay their eggs in June, July and August, so it's possible it had eggs nearby.
My daughter's house is in the foothills, so close that we can walk into the lower hills at the base of the mountains. I suppose it isn't that rare to find this type of lizard in this area, I was just surprised to see it!
Parenting in the Bird World
The grandchildren and I went for a walk a few days ago and noticed a few baby sparrows perched on a neighbor's house. One of their parents flew up with some food, so of course, we rushed back to the house to get my camera. When we returned, they were gone.
While we were at the park, we noticed a house sparrow flying in and out of the thick metal tube that the swings connect to, and this truly surprised me. I imagine it is rather hot inside the tube right now!
Disappointed, we went back to the house, fetched the wagon, and went to the park. On the way back, we once again saw the baby sparrows. This time, they were perched on the street sign in front of my daughter's house. Four little babies chattering madly as their parents flew back and forth with bugs to soothe their insatiable appetites--baby birds eat about every twenty minutes.
And I thought it was challenging feeding my babies! My goodness, by the time those poor birds choose the juiciest bug, wash off the dirt (or boil it if its the first child and the parents are still in that over-protective mode), fly back to the babies, choose the child that will eat this round, stuff the bug in the beak of the baby who, by this time, is chattering loudly and flapping all over the nest, pick up the toys they've scattered around the nest, toss a load of dirty feathers into the washing machine..no wonder it takes both parents to shop for the family groceries! Seriously, though, it must be exhausting to be a bird parent!
I am also surprised by the large number of birds in Colorado right now. They seem to be everywhere! Colorado, however, is generally a very dry state, and while Texas is plagued with drought at the moment, Colorado has so much rain that mountain towns, such as Estes Park, have daily flooding in the parking lots and public parks, and the park down the street from my daughter's home has sand bags piled up in various places around the park to prevent the water from overflowing onto the park's access roads. Water brings plants, which bring bugs, which bring...birds!
I suspect we are seeing the baby birds in Colorado right now because they also had a very long, cold winter. When I left Texas the first week in June, we had skipped right past spring and were already experiencing 105 degree summer days.
Before I left Texas, I took many pictures of a mated pair of cardinals that stopped by our bedroom window tray of seeds every morning. For a short time, the father appeared alone and we assumed the mother was at the nest with the babies. Then one day, we noticed juvenile cardinals sitting in the tray--three females and a male. It is easy to spot a juvenile cardinal--they look awkward, are missing feathers, and almost appear as if they've been in a fight! At first, we could not tell their sex, but it gradually became more obvious as their feathers filled in.
And these were the magic moments. Every morning. we watched in awe as the mother and father cardinal took turns feeding the babies. After awhile, it became obvious that the parents were trying to teach the babies how to crack open seeds. The father actually appeared to be demonstrating this act. Then we realized the baby birds had learned the technique, though they continued to flap and chatter noisily, begging for food when their parents appeared.
What amazed me the most, though, was the undeniable fact that the parent birds were showing emotions. We could actually see this through the window--the love, tenderness, and compassion they felt for their children. It was a family truly blessed by God.
While we were at the park, we noticed a house sparrow flying in and out of the thick metal tube that the swings connect to, and this truly surprised me. I imagine it is rather hot inside the tube right now!
Disappointed, we went back to the house, fetched the wagon, and went to the park. On the way back, we once again saw the baby sparrows. This time, they were perched on the street sign in front of my daughter's house. Four little babies chattering madly as their parents flew back and forth with bugs to soothe their insatiable appetites--baby birds eat about every twenty minutes.
And I thought it was challenging feeding my babies! My goodness, by the time those poor birds choose the juiciest bug, wash off the dirt (or boil it if its the first child and the parents are still in that over-protective mode), fly back to the babies, choose the child that will eat this round, stuff the bug in the beak of the baby who, by this time, is chattering loudly and flapping all over the nest, pick up the toys they've scattered around the nest, toss a load of dirty feathers into the washing machine..no wonder it takes both parents to shop for the family groceries! Seriously, though, it must be exhausting to be a bird parent!
I am also surprised by the large number of birds in Colorado right now. They seem to be everywhere! Colorado, however, is generally a very dry state, and while Texas is plagued with drought at the moment, Colorado has so much rain that mountain towns, such as Estes Park, have daily flooding in the parking lots and public parks, and the park down the street from my daughter's home has sand bags piled up in various places around the park to prevent the water from overflowing onto the park's access roads. Water brings plants, which bring bugs, which bring...birds!
I suspect we are seeing the baby birds in Colorado right now because they also had a very long, cold winter. When I left Texas the first week in June, we had skipped right past spring and were already experiencing 105 degree summer days.
Before I left Texas, I took many pictures of a mated pair of cardinals that stopped by our bedroom window tray of seeds every morning. For a short time, the father appeared alone and we assumed the mother was at the nest with the babies. Then one day, we noticed juvenile cardinals sitting in the tray--three females and a male. It is easy to spot a juvenile cardinal--they look awkward, are missing feathers, and almost appear as if they've been in a fight! At first, we could not tell their sex, but it gradually became more obvious as their feathers filled in.
And these were the magic moments. Every morning. we watched in awe as the mother and father cardinal took turns feeding the babies. After awhile, it became obvious that the parents were trying to teach the babies how to crack open seeds. The father actually appeared to be demonstrating this act. Then we realized the baby birds had learned the technique, though they continued to flap and chatter noisily, begging for food when their parents appeared.
What amazed me the most, though, was the undeniable fact that the parent birds were showing emotions. We could actually see this through the window--the love, tenderness, and compassion they felt for their children. It was a family truly blessed by God.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Where do the birds go in a hailstorm?
Late in the evening of July 13, 2011, I was helping my grandchildren get ready for bed when I heard thunder in the distance. I tucked them beneath the covers, then jumped into the shower to prepare for bed myself before the storm hit. Just as I turned off the water, I heard thunder so loud it made the walls tremble. I quickly slipped into my pajamas and ran into the hallway to meet both of my grandchildren.
Suddenly, it sounded as if hundreds of guns were firing at the house. My son-in-law shouted at us to get into the tornado closet, which was behind us, just beneath the stairs in the basement. I could hear him calling my daughter on the phone, knowing she was on her way home from work and trapped in the storm. I peeked out the door of the closet and watched in awe as golf ball-sized hail averaging 1 3/4 inches, smacked into the window, porch and yard, some flying back up off the ground.
As the storm started to ease, my daughter pulled up in front of the house--she had stopped beneath a tree, hoping to protect her windshield. Another friend was caught in the storm with her children. She stopped the car, climbed into the backseat and covered her children with her arms to protect them in case the windshield broke.
The family cat, who darted outside through an open door earlier in the evening suddenly appeared, shivering with fear. We checked him over for injuries, but he apparently found shelter because he is fine.
I then walked out onto the lawn, staring up and down the street, looking for injured animals. Thankfully, there were none that I could see.
There was hail of all sizes on lawns, in door jambs, driveways, and on cars and trucks. All four vehicles at this house received hail damage. The hail was in all sizes, too, from tiny, dime-sized pieces to golf ball sized chunks. Some were smooth, round, perfect balls. Others appeared to be clumps of tinier balls joined together.
I am still in Colorado. Although only a small portion of the state is considered part of "Tornado Alley," Colorado also has frequent tornadoes, particularly in the foothills. In 2008, I spent three hours in the basement closet with my granddaughter as the television repeatedly warned of possible tornadoes in our area and a mile-wide tornado plowed across the fields and the Town of Windsor on the other side of the highway from where my daughter lives.
Colorado is also known for fierce hail storms and tremendous hail damage. According to the NOAA's National Severe Storms Laboratory, Colorado, Nebraska and Wyoming generally have more hail storms than anywhere else in the United States.
As an avid bird watcher who keeps God's little creatures close to her heart, I am always concerned about the small animals caught in these storms. In May of 2010, residents of Norman, Oklahoma experienced a severe hail storm and in its aftermath discovered a large flock of birds was injured. Many of the birds died, but sixteen were rescued by local residents.
Hail can be extremely dangerous, particularly for small creatures, like birds, who cannot take shelter. I believe it is important to check outside, in the yard, perhaps even in the neighborhood, after storms like this to see if there are birds or other creatures injured by hail. God's little creatures need all the help they can get.
Suddenly, it sounded as if hundreds of guns were firing at the house. My son-in-law shouted at us to get into the tornado closet, which was behind us, just beneath the stairs in the basement. I could hear him calling my daughter on the phone, knowing she was on her way home from work and trapped in the storm. I peeked out the door of the closet and watched in awe as golf ball-sized hail averaging 1 3/4 inches, smacked into the window, porch and yard, some flying back up off the ground.
As the storm started to ease, my daughter pulled up in front of the house--she had stopped beneath a tree, hoping to protect her windshield. Another friend was caught in the storm with her children. She stopped the car, climbed into the backseat and covered her children with her arms to protect them in case the windshield broke.
The family cat, who darted outside through an open door earlier in the evening suddenly appeared, shivering with fear. We checked him over for injuries, but he apparently found shelter because he is fine.
I then walked out onto the lawn, staring up and down the street, looking for injured animals. Thankfully, there were none that I could see.
There was hail of all sizes on lawns, in door jambs, driveways, and on cars and trucks. All four vehicles at this house received hail damage. The hail was in all sizes, too, from tiny, dime-sized pieces to golf ball sized chunks. Some were smooth, round, perfect balls. Others appeared to be clumps of tinier balls joined together.
I am still in Colorado. Although only a small portion of the state is considered part of "Tornado Alley," Colorado also has frequent tornadoes, particularly in the foothills. In 2008, I spent three hours in the basement closet with my granddaughter as the television repeatedly warned of possible tornadoes in our area and a mile-wide tornado plowed across the fields and the Town of Windsor on the other side of the highway from where my daughter lives.
Colorado is also known for fierce hail storms and tremendous hail damage. According to the NOAA's National Severe Storms Laboratory, Colorado, Nebraska and Wyoming generally have more hail storms than anywhere else in the United States.
As an avid bird watcher who keeps God's little creatures close to her heart, I am always concerned about the small animals caught in these storms. In May of 2010, residents of Norman, Oklahoma experienced a severe hail storm and in its aftermath discovered a large flock of birds was injured. Many of the birds died, but sixteen were rescued by local residents.
Hail can be extremely dangerous, particularly for small creatures, like birds, who cannot take shelter. I believe it is important to check outside, in the yard, perhaps even in the neighborhood, after storms like this to see if there are birds or other creatures injured by hail. God's little creatures need all the help they can get.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Swallowtail Butterflies and American Goldfinches
I'm in Colorado again visiting family. There seems to be a large number of many little creatures in Loveland this year, which could be explained by the fact that they've had an unusually high amount of snowmelt and rainfall and some of the lower mountain towns have daily flooding in the streets.
I've spent a lot of time in my daughter's backyard and I've noticed her neighbor's tree seems to be the center of attraction for many little creatures in the neighborhood. I see many swallowtail butterflies in the neighborhood and they all seem attracted to this tree.
I watched one for about twenty minutes this afternoon. I don't know if it was playing, or searching for something, but it would fly around the perimeter of the neighbor's house, then into the tree, fluttering through the leaves and branches, then start around the house again. I kept waiting for it to land so I could take a picture, but it didn't seem interested in settling down. There are over 550 species of these large, colorful butterflies, but the ones I've seen in my neighbor's yard are all yellow with black stripes. Back in Texas, I've seen many varieties.
I don't know what type of tree the neighbor has in her front yard, but it seems to be a happy place for little creatures. It also attracts a wide variety of birds. I photographed a stunning brown bird, which I have not been able to identify. I also photographed an American Goldfinch, which was watching my granddaughter as she walked beneath the tree. My granddaughter could not see the bird, but you can tell by the photograph, the bird obviously could see her! It was a magical moment watching the bird follow my granddaughter as she strolled around the grass, staring up through the leaves. I think the bird was actually enjoying the fact that she was secretly spying on the little girl!
I've spent a lot of time in my daughter's backyard and I've noticed her neighbor's tree seems to be the center of attraction for many little creatures in the neighborhood. I see many swallowtail butterflies in the neighborhood and they all seem attracted to this tree.
I watched one for about twenty minutes this afternoon. I don't know if it was playing, or searching for something, but it would fly around the perimeter of the neighbor's house, then into the tree, fluttering through the leaves and branches, then start around the house again. I kept waiting for it to land so I could take a picture, but it didn't seem interested in settling down. There are over 550 species of these large, colorful butterflies, but the ones I've seen in my neighbor's yard are all yellow with black stripes. Back in Texas, I've seen many varieties.
I don't know what type of tree the neighbor has in her front yard, but it seems to be a happy place for little creatures. It also attracts a wide variety of birds. I photographed a stunning brown bird, which I have not been able to identify. I also photographed an American Goldfinch, which was watching my granddaughter as she walked beneath the tree. My granddaughter could not see the bird, but you can tell by the photograph, the bird obviously could see her! It was a magical moment watching the bird follow my granddaughter as she strolled around the grass, staring up through the leaves. I think the bird was actually enjoying the fact that she was secretly spying on the little girl!
Friday, June 17, 2011
Help Save the Sumatran Tiger
It seems to me that one of the primary reasons we are seeing so many species on the endangered species list is due to habitat destruction. The problem is so wide-spread it seems insurmountable, but there are small ways to help. The World Wildlife Fund has a petition you can sign online to encourage the Indonesian government to stop habitat destruction and help save the Sumatran tigers. If you are interested in helping these magnificent creatures, the petitions is here:
All Activists: Sign on to Save Sumatra's Tigers | World Wildlife Fund
All Activists: Sign on to Save Sumatra's Tigers | World Wildlife Fund
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Love Those Grackles!
I love grackles. I love the sound they make as they scamper about the parking lot--that wild, squawking, tropical bird sound. I love watching them prance like royalty, lifting their feet high into the air. I love the way they follow me around my yard, waiting for me to sprinkle seed into the seed dishes, and I love watching them splash in the bird bath, then shake their feathers dry.
The Common Grackle (Quiscalus quiscula) is in the blackbird family, though they are a bit longer in the body, and much more colorful and flamboyant. Common Grackles have bluish-purple on their upper body and head and their wings shimmer with shades of bronze and green. They have golden eyes. They have long legs, long tails, and longer bills than blackbirds.
Grackles like to hang out in large flocks, which can be rather pretty when you see a flock of fancy-tail grackles and the males are fanning their tails. They are often seen in fields, parking lots, and around fast food restaurants--they seem to enjoy cold french fries. They sound like a cross between a blackbird and a crow. Actually, they sound like a grackle. I can always tell when I'm listening to a grackle.
Yesterday, I sat in my dining room watching a Common Grackle high-stepping in the bird bath. I thought it was bathing, but it didn't do the usual dip, splash and shake. In fact, it stuck its head straight down in the water, then it came back up with a tiny grasshopper in its mouth and proudly pranced about the back porch before gulping it down.
Unfortunately, after completing both the Christmas Bird Count and the Great Backyard Bird Count, the National Audubon Society announced that the Common Grackle is number 14 on a list of twenty common birds in decline. I do hope their numbers rise back up. I cannot imagine walking through a parking lot without hearing their cheerful call!
The Common Grackle (Quiscalus quiscula) is in the blackbird family, though they are a bit longer in the body, and much more colorful and flamboyant. Common Grackles have bluish-purple on their upper body and head and their wings shimmer with shades of bronze and green. They have golden eyes. They have long legs, long tails, and longer bills than blackbirds.
Grackles like to hang out in large flocks, which can be rather pretty when you see a flock of fancy-tail grackles and the males are fanning their tails. They are often seen in fields, parking lots, and around fast food restaurants--they seem to enjoy cold french fries. They sound like a cross between a blackbird and a crow. Actually, they sound like a grackle. I can always tell when I'm listening to a grackle.
Yesterday, I sat in my dining room watching a Common Grackle high-stepping in the bird bath. I thought it was bathing, but it didn't do the usual dip, splash and shake. In fact, it stuck its head straight down in the water, then it came back up with a tiny grasshopper in its mouth and proudly pranced about the back porch before gulping it down.
Unfortunately, after completing both the Christmas Bird Count and the Great Backyard Bird Count, the National Audubon Society announced that the Common Grackle is number 14 on a list of twenty common birds in decline. I do hope their numbers rise back up. I cannot imagine walking through a parking lot without hearing their cheerful call!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Chic Chic Cicadas...
The sound fills the air on hot summer nights, like a deep breath, and relaxed sigh. Chic, chic, chic--it grows louder, then stops, louder, then stops. It's the sound of the cicada, a sound I know well as I've listened to it every summer since I was a child.
Cicadas are fascinating creatures, and I feel a little guilty about the way I have spoken of them in the past. I have frequently photographed cicadas in their exoskeleton stage (see photos) and entered them in my personal Facebook "Ugly Bug Contest." Well, the exoskeleton of the Cicada may be a bit creepy, I suppose, but they are all creations of God, and deserve my respect.
In 1933, Stanley Bromley wrote that East Central Texas, where we live, is "a veritable cicada paradise. I have never visited a region where so many species are as abundant." And if you walk around outside in the dark--which is not advisable, considering the millions of other strange creatures that abound in East Central Texas--you will hear this abundance of cicadas, like a choir of bugs filling the air with their, um, sweet, angelic bug calls! (I know, I know, but I said I was going to try to speak nicely about them now!)
Actually, Bromley describes the singing of cicadas more accurately when he says, "they may be silent for long intervals, when suddenly the whole population will burst into song simultaneously, resulting in an ear-splitting din which subsides as suddenly as it arose."
Cicadas are rather large insects that look like flies with very long wings. They lay their eggs in cracks in tree or tree roots. Nymphs crawl underground and feed on roots, but do no perceptible damage to plants. They can stay underground for years as their hard shells develop, then eventually, they crack out of their shells and the winged creatures emerge in a similar fashion to dragonflies. It is common for millions of cicadas to hatch at once, in cycles, like locust. There are 2500 different types of cicadas around the world--the world can be a very noisy place at times!
The male cicadas are the loud noisemakers. They have what are called "tymbals" at the base of the abdomen, like ribs, which they contract. The sound is created as the tymbals move inward, and when they relax, and the tymbals go back to their original position, a second sound is created. The body of the male is fairly hollow, which make the sound resonant. To me, it sounds as if the earth itself is breathing when cicadas sing.
I have seen the fully-grown cicadas flit about the yard, but I've only been able to photograph their exoskeletons, so photographing a winged cicada is now my personal goal...but I will display my photos of the exoskeletons to the right, and I cannot promise to exclude them from my ugly bug contests!
Cicadas are fascinating creatures, and I feel a little guilty about the way I have spoken of them in the past. I have frequently photographed cicadas in their exoskeleton stage (see photos) and entered them in my personal Facebook "Ugly Bug Contest." Well, the exoskeleton of the Cicada may be a bit creepy, I suppose, but they are all creations of God, and deserve my respect.
In 1933, Stanley Bromley wrote that East Central Texas, where we live, is "a veritable cicada paradise. I have never visited a region where so many species are as abundant." And if you walk around outside in the dark--which is not advisable, considering the millions of other strange creatures that abound in East Central Texas--you will hear this abundance of cicadas, like a choir of bugs filling the air with their, um, sweet, angelic bug calls! (I know, I know, but I said I was going to try to speak nicely about them now!)
Actually, Bromley describes the singing of cicadas more accurately when he says, "they may be silent for long intervals, when suddenly the whole population will burst into song simultaneously, resulting in an ear-splitting din which subsides as suddenly as it arose."
Cicadas are rather large insects that look like flies with very long wings. They lay their eggs in cracks in tree or tree roots. Nymphs crawl underground and feed on roots, but do no perceptible damage to plants. They can stay underground for years as their hard shells develop, then eventually, they crack out of their shells and the winged creatures emerge in a similar fashion to dragonflies. It is common for millions of cicadas to hatch at once, in cycles, like locust. There are 2500 different types of cicadas around the world--the world can be a very noisy place at times!
The male cicadas are the loud noisemakers. They have what are called "tymbals" at the base of the abdomen, like ribs, which they contract. The sound is created as the tymbals move inward, and when they relax, and the tymbals go back to their original position, a second sound is created. The body of the male is fairly hollow, which make the sound resonant. To me, it sounds as if the earth itself is breathing when cicadas sing.
I have seen the fully-grown cicadas flit about the yard, but I've only been able to photograph their exoskeletons, so photographing a winged cicada is now my personal goal...but I will display my photos of the exoskeletons to the right, and I cannot promise to exclude them from my ugly bug contests!
Love and Chihuahuas
“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” --Mother Teresa
Chihuahuas are an interesting breed. They can never seem to get enough affection. I write for ten to twelve hours a day, and the entire time I am working, Chewy is sitting on my lap, nudging my hand with his nose, begging for love. There seems to be no end to the love and affection Chewy can give, or for what I feel for him, and the other little creatures God has brought into my life.
The chihuahua is the smallest breed of dog, named after the State of Chihuahua in Mexico. Its history is a mystery. It has been traced to the Techichi, companion dogs to the Toltec, according to the American Kennel Club. It is also believed that the appearance of Chihuahuas in Europe began in the time of Christopher Columbus.
Chewy, our chihuahua, first made his appearance last year, creeping out of the forest during a thunderstorm and walking up to my stepson, shivering in the rain. We were convinced that he was lost as chihuahuas are very popular in this area, but we tried for over a month to find his owner and finally concluded he was abandoned. Abandonment to dogs is an unforgivable act of cruelty as dogs want nothing more than to love and please their owners, as Chewy demonstrates from the time he wakes up until he goes to sleep.
Chewy thinks of himself as a big dog, and I have read that most chihuahuas do believe, in their minds, that they are larger than their actual size. I like to tell people we have our two chocolate labs for companionship and the chihuahua for home protection. They supposedly attach themselves to one person--and that would be me, though Chewy does show affection to my husband and stepson, and eventually warms up to others. Because they are fiercely protective, they are known for being temperamental, but this is just their protective nature. Chewy's alternate names are Chewchewcabra and Chichihuahua.
Chihuahuas are long-haired and short-haired, but Chewy is short-haired. This does not, however, prevent them from shedding. (Insert sigh here.) Their fur can be any color normally found on dogs. Chewy is fawn, but we refer to him as the "yellow dog," since he compliments the chocolate labs so well with his coloring. Chihuahuas are also prone to eye injuries because of their protruding eyes, and to hypoglycemia, particularly when puppies, because of their size. They live to be around 17 years old, and sometimes older.
Chihuahuas like to burrow. Chewy loves to wait until we are sleeping, then he jumps onto the bed and burrows beneath the covers. I find him on my feet every morning. Sometimes, if I get up in the middle of the night, he will jump onto my spot, slide beneath my pillow and pretend to be asleep.
Our little Chewy has brought a tremendous amount of joy into our lives. Adjusting to a small dog has been a challenge to a family more familiar with large breeds, but the love and affection shown by chihuahuas is contagious. I believe God's creatures instinctively love until it hurts, then love some more, and as their pets, we learn to do the same.
Chihuahuas are an interesting breed. They can never seem to get enough affection. I write for ten to twelve hours a day, and the entire time I am working, Chewy is sitting on my lap, nudging my hand with his nose, begging for love. There seems to be no end to the love and affection Chewy can give, or for what I feel for him, and the other little creatures God has brought into my life.
The chihuahua is the smallest breed of dog, named after the State of Chihuahua in Mexico. Its history is a mystery. It has been traced to the Techichi, companion dogs to the Toltec, according to the American Kennel Club. It is also believed that the appearance of Chihuahuas in Europe began in the time of Christopher Columbus.
Chewy, our chihuahua, first made his appearance last year, creeping out of the forest during a thunderstorm and walking up to my stepson, shivering in the rain. We were convinced that he was lost as chihuahuas are very popular in this area, but we tried for over a month to find his owner and finally concluded he was abandoned. Abandonment to dogs is an unforgivable act of cruelty as dogs want nothing more than to love and please their owners, as Chewy demonstrates from the time he wakes up until he goes to sleep.
Chewy thinks of himself as a big dog, and I have read that most chihuahuas do believe, in their minds, that they are larger than their actual size. I like to tell people we have our two chocolate labs for companionship and the chihuahua for home protection. They supposedly attach themselves to one person--and that would be me, though Chewy does show affection to my husband and stepson, and eventually warms up to others. Because they are fiercely protective, they are known for being temperamental, but this is just their protective nature. Chewy's alternate names are Chewchewcabra and Chichihuahua.
Chihuahuas are long-haired and short-haired, but Chewy is short-haired. This does not, however, prevent them from shedding. (Insert sigh here.) Their fur can be any color normally found on dogs. Chewy is fawn, but we refer to him as the "yellow dog," since he compliments the chocolate labs so well with his coloring. Chihuahuas are also prone to eye injuries because of their protruding eyes, and to hypoglycemia, particularly when puppies, because of their size. They live to be around 17 years old, and sometimes older.
Chihuahuas like to burrow. Chewy loves to wait until we are sleeping, then he jumps onto the bed and burrows beneath the covers. I find him on my feet every morning. Sometimes, if I get up in the middle of the night, he will jump onto my spot, slide beneath my pillow and pretend to be asleep.
Our little Chewy has brought a tremendous amount of joy into our lives. Adjusting to a small dog has been a challenge to a family more familiar with large breeds, but the love and affection shown by chihuahuas is contagious. I believe God's creatures instinctively love until it hurts, then love some more, and as their pets, we learn to do the same.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
The Flamingo
My son and his family visited us this weekend and we spent our time at the local Marriott resort in Horseshoe Bay near Marble Falls, Texas. They have a stunning botanical garden with rivers, waterfalls, ponds and lakes, turtles and frogs, and one beautiful pink flamingo.
At first, when I saw the flamingo, I thought he was fake. He held very still, standing on one leg in the middle of his pond, his beak tucked into his chest. Then he slowly raised his head and changed position. I glanced down at my grandson, and when I raised my head again, the flamingo had turned its body around. I was wondering if it would put down its leg to turn around. I didn't see it happen, so I don't know! We walked around the gardens and I photographed some turtles and frogs, and when I returned, the flamingo was, once again facing us.
It looks like cotton candy. It has some red on its body, but these are under-feathers and more like highlighting on a work of art, accents to bring out the softness of the pink. Its feathers swirl around its body as if perfectly placed by a painter, or feather-stylist. I think it has a pink eye, too, from what I can tell in the photographs.
It made me sad, in a way, to see it standing alone as flamingos are gregarious wading birds. In other words, they love to socialize in large flocks, standing along the seashore, hanging out with their friends. I think this one is a Chilean Flamingo because it has gray legs and pink knees. If I am correct, and it is a Chilean Flamingo, its species is considered Near Threatened, most likely to human encroachment and habitat destruction, which are the two main reasons animal species are threatened, but flamingos are also threatened due to egg harvesting by humans.
No one really knows why flamingos stand on one leg, but in the pictures I have posted beside this blog, you can see the second leg tucked underneath. They eat shrimp and algae. They are usually about five feet tall, weigh six to seven pounds, and have a wingspan of 55 to 65 inches.
It is possible this flamingo is not alone. I plan to call the hotel tomorrow and try to find out more information about the animal and its care. It looked healthy and very content, but I am curious as to whether or not it has a mate. If it does have a mate, the mate could very well have been hiding in the gardens somewhere.
At first, when I saw the flamingo, I thought he was fake. He held very still, standing on one leg in the middle of his pond, his beak tucked into his chest. Then he slowly raised his head and changed position. I glanced down at my grandson, and when I raised my head again, the flamingo had turned its body around. I was wondering if it would put down its leg to turn around. I didn't see it happen, so I don't know! We walked around the gardens and I photographed some turtles and frogs, and when I returned, the flamingo was, once again facing us.
It looks like cotton candy. It has some red on its body, but these are under-feathers and more like highlighting on a work of art, accents to bring out the softness of the pink. Its feathers swirl around its body as if perfectly placed by a painter, or feather-stylist. I think it has a pink eye, too, from what I can tell in the photographs.
It made me sad, in a way, to see it standing alone as flamingos are gregarious wading birds. In other words, they love to socialize in large flocks, standing along the seashore, hanging out with their friends. I think this one is a Chilean Flamingo because it has gray legs and pink knees. If I am correct, and it is a Chilean Flamingo, its species is considered Near Threatened, most likely to human encroachment and habitat destruction, which are the two main reasons animal species are threatened, but flamingos are also threatened due to egg harvesting by humans.
No one really knows why flamingos stand on one leg, but in the pictures I have posted beside this blog, you can see the second leg tucked underneath. They eat shrimp and algae. They are usually about five feet tall, weigh six to seven pounds, and have a wingspan of 55 to 65 inches.
It is possible this flamingo is not alone. I plan to call the hotel tomorrow and try to find out more information about the animal and its care. It looked healthy and very content, but I am curious as to whether or not it has a mate. If it does have a mate, the mate could very well have been hiding in the gardens somewhere.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
The Buzzing Humble Bumble Bee
I will be returning to Colorado soon, in June, the best time of year for Colorado. Yes, it is also tornado season, but June is when the flowers bloom, the birds sing, the baby antelope prance and play on the prairies, and the parks are filled with laughing children.
It is also the best time of year to photograph one of my favorites subjects, the Bumble Bee. They photograph very well. I love those "grab" moments when a bee pulls it's head from the center of a flower and is covered with pollen, and I love listening to their buzz as they move from plant to plant, completely oblivious to the camera's lens.
In Shakespeare's time, in fact, right up to around World War I, Bumble Bees were called Humble Bees. Charles Darwin referred to Bumble Bees as Humble Bees in The Origin of the Species.
I much prefer the Humble Bee. They are not pretentious creatures, begging for attention, flapping and calling and showing off the way some geese might do. No, they simply move from flower to flower, sharing the love.
I haven't seen a single bee this year, that I recall. Though we seem to have a shortage of flowers around the house we are renting, we certainly do not have a shortage of wasps! The red wasps are everywhere, and in Texas, some of these wasps are as big as longhorn cattle!
And I miss the sound of the Humble Bumble Bee, though I know I will hear it again soon. A remarkable little bit of trivia that I just learned: The Humble Bee's humming sound does not come from the beating of its wings, but from the vibration of its flight muscles.
Another bit of trivia, contrary to popular myth, it is not a scientific mystery as to why the Humble Bee manages to fly in spite of its heavy body weight compared to the lightness of its wings. The wings of the Humble Bumble Bee function in a similar fashion to those of the hummingbird, like reverse-pitch, semirotary helicopter blades. Hummingbird wings are often compared to helicopter blades.
I can picture the moment when a bright, young scientist, perhaps an aviation engineer, a dreamer who believed in miracles, who understood the perfection of all God's creatures, sitting on his back porch, his coffee cup in one hand, a piece of toast in the other, glanced over at a flower, at the Humble Bumble Bee moving near his head, just close enough for the scientist to see the rotation of its wings, and the scientist said, "Hey, I wonder if..."
It is also the best time of year to photograph one of my favorites subjects, the Bumble Bee. They photograph very well. I love those "grab" moments when a bee pulls it's head from the center of a flower and is covered with pollen, and I love listening to their buzz as they move from plant to plant, completely oblivious to the camera's lens.
In Shakespeare's time, in fact, right up to around World War I, Bumble Bees were called Humble Bees. Charles Darwin referred to Bumble Bees as Humble Bees in The Origin of the Species.
I much prefer the Humble Bee. They are not pretentious creatures, begging for attention, flapping and calling and showing off the way some geese might do. No, they simply move from flower to flower, sharing the love.
I haven't seen a single bee this year, that I recall. Though we seem to have a shortage of flowers around the house we are renting, we certainly do not have a shortage of wasps! The red wasps are everywhere, and in Texas, some of these wasps are as big as longhorn cattle!
And I miss the sound of the Humble Bumble Bee, though I know I will hear it again soon. A remarkable little bit of trivia that I just learned: The Humble Bee's humming sound does not come from the beating of its wings, but from the vibration of its flight muscles.
Another bit of trivia, contrary to popular myth, it is not a scientific mystery as to why the Humble Bee manages to fly in spite of its heavy body weight compared to the lightness of its wings. The wings of the Humble Bumble Bee function in a similar fashion to those of the hummingbird, like reverse-pitch, semirotary helicopter blades. Hummingbird wings are often compared to helicopter blades.
I can picture the moment when a bright, young scientist, perhaps an aviation engineer, a dreamer who believed in miracles, who understood the perfection of all God's creatures, sitting on his back porch, his coffee cup in one hand, a piece of toast in the other, glanced over at a flower, at the Humble Bumble Bee moving near his head, just close enough for the scientist to see the rotation of its wings, and the scientist said, "Hey, I wonder if..."
Monday, May 30, 2011
Dogs, Cats, and Crawfish
My dog, Holly, has a bug bite on her tail. She was trying to nibble at it with her teeth, lost her balance and did a backward somersault into the closet, landing on a pile of dog pillows.
I was worried at first, but she walked out of the closet just fine... then turned around and looked back inside, staring at the pillows and sniffing around as if trying to figure out what had pulled her in there in the first place!
There was a big bin of live crawfish at the grocery store and they were all crawling around on top of each other so of course I started filling up a container to take them down to the creek and set them free and my husband made me put them back! What is up with that? It makes perfect sense to me. If I pay for them, I should be able to do what I want with them.
My chihuahua usually picks and teases and snips at my cat, Niblet. He's like a pesty younger brother, and Niblet, who is 60+ in cat years, takes it all in stride. A few days ago, my husband shaved the cat to get ready for our 105+ Texas summers. Now that Niblet is shaved, though, Chewy doesn't tease him. It's as if he thinks Niblet was Samson, and without his hair, he's lost his manhood. Now, Chewy walks up to the cat and rubs noses, as if to say, "I'm sorry, dude. You just look...goofy."
After spitting repeatedly on the ground to try and teach my chihuahua the meaning of the words "drop it," as he started into my eyes, then gulped down whatever piece of garbage was in his mouth, I finally figured out why my neighbors all think I'm a nut.
My bed is too tall, and my cat is too fat to jump onto the bed. The vet claims he's not fat, just big, but when he jumps and drops and jumps and drops...
Instead of reaching down and helping him, my husband would laugh at him. "The big, scary, Niblet, Boo Boo Kitty Black Fang is too old to jump on the bed," he would say, and the cat would sit and glare at him. (Yes, my cat has many names.)
Today, I bought Niblet Black Fang Boo Boo Kitty a step ladder. He has a right to his dignity.
I was worried at first, but she walked out of the closet just fine... then turned around and looked back inside, staring at the pillows and sniffing around as if trying to figure out what had pulled her in there in the first place!
There was a big bin of live crawfish at the grocery store and they were all crawling around on top of each other so of course I started filling up a container to take them down to the creek and set them free and my husband made me put them back! What is up with that? It makes perfect sense to me. If I pay for them, I should be able to do what I want with them.
My chihuahua usually picks and teases and snips at my cat, Niblet. He's like a pesty younger brother, and Niblet, who is 60+ in cat years, takes it all in stride. A few days ago, my husband shaved the cat to get ready for our 105+ Texas summers. Now that Niblet is shaved, though, Chewy doesn't tease him. It's as if he thinks Niblet was Samson, and without his hair, he's lost his manhood. Now, Chewy walks up to the cat and rubs noses, as if to say, "I'm sorry, dude. You just look...goofy."
After spitting repeatedly on the ground to try and teach my chihuahua the meaning of the words "drop it," as he started into my eyes, then gulped down whatever piece of garbage was in his mouth, I finally figured out why my neighbors all think I'm a nut.
My bed is too tall, and my cat is too fat to jump onto the bed. The vet claims he's not fat, just big, but when he jumps and drops and jumps and drops...
Instead of reaching down and helping him, my husband would laugh at him. "The big, scary, Niblet, Boo Boo Kitty Black Fang is too old to jump on the bed," he would say, and the cat would sit and glare at him. (Yes, my cat has many names.)
Today, I bought Niblet Black Fang Boo Boo Kitty a step ladder. He has a right to his dignity.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
I Love Bird Legs!
I love bird legs. They are so cute. Tall ones, short ones, skinny ones, big thick ones on vultures--such tremendous variety, too.
I like catching shots of birds taking off, flying over my head where I can see their tiny legs tucked beneath their body like the tires of an airplane. The legs of House Sparrows look delicate and small when viewed from beneath, then they pop those legs out as they come in for a landing and the tiny toothpicks hold their bodies perfectly. They do not wobble, stumble, or fall, in spite of the fact that their legs are clearly no where near the same weight as their bodies.
Hummingbird legs are especially delicate because they are so small, and they tuck beneath the body in a different way-they are so small, they don't even appear to fold, they look as if they just flap down onto the bird's belly, then stretch out again. And yet, when they land on the ledge of the feeder, those teeny legs are not only strong enough to keep them in place while they eat, but also hold them in place in out harsh, Texas winds.
I watched a blue heron at the park yesterday afternoon. It's legs appeared to be longer than its body. It stood on a rock near the water's edge as fierce gusts of wind battered its body, but it stood strong, solid. It didn't even appear to sway with the wind.
Vulture legs are like tree trunks, but they seem to disappear when they land, covered by the vulture's massive wings. I suspect the vulture's legs are thicker because their body is much heavier, especially when you add in the weight of those massive wings, which are sometimes 6 to 8 feet across! I think their legs are the reason why it's a bit more difficult for them to take off than other birds. When on the ground, they have to get a running start.
I like bird feet, too. I like the way they curl their talons around tiny twigs to hold them in place. When I take the dogs out, I always knock on the back door to warn the birds that we are coming, and sometimes the smaller birds, like the chickadees and sparrows, and even cardinals, will hop onto the sides of the trees, gripping the bark with their little talons and watching the dogs sideways as the dogs stare back at them, neither really frightened or intimidated, just...curious.
Edited to add: After I posted this blog, I looked out my bedroom window and watched a baby cardinal land on a tree branch. I have two crape myrtles that we bought for our old house, but we could not find a place to plant them because there was so much rock on the land, so I put them in pots, hoping they will survive until we find a house in New Mexico. The trees are only five feet tall, and the branches are more like twigs. When the baby cardinals land on the twigs, they bob up and down, but the babies hang on with their tiny legs and talons firm and strong until the bobbing stops, confident that their legs, and the tree, will hold.
I like catching shots of birds taking off, flying over my head where I can see their tiny legs tucked beneath their body like the tires of an airplane. The legs of House Sparrows look delicate and small when viewed from beneath, then they pop those legs out as they come in for a landing and the tiny toothpicks hold their bodies perfectly. They do not wobble, stumble, or fall, in spite of the fact that their legs are clearly no where near the same weight as their bodies.
Hummingbird legs are especially delicate because they are so small, and they tuck beneath the body in a different way-they are so small, they don't even appear to fold, they look as if they just flap down onto the bird's belly, then stretch out again. And yet, when they land on the ledge of the feeder, those teeny legs are not only strong enough to keep them in place while they eat, but also hold them in place in out harsh, Texas winds.
I watched a blue heron at the park yesterday afternoon. It's legs appeared to be longer than its body. It stood on a rock near the water's edge as fierce gusts of wind battered its body, but it stood strong, solid. It didn't even appear to sway with the wind.
Vulture legs are like tree trunks, but they seem to disappear when they land, covered by the vulture's massive wings. I suspect the vulture's legs are thicker because their body is much heavier, especially when you add in the weight of those massive wings, which are sometimes 6 to 8 feet across! I think their legs are the reason why it's a bit more difficult for them to take off than other birds. When on the ground, they have to get a running start.
I like bird feet, too. I like the way they curl their talons around tiny twigs to hold them in place. When I take the dogs out, I always knock on the back door to warn the birds that we are coming, and sometimes the smaller birds, like the chickadees and sparrows, and even cardinals, will hop onto the sides of the trees, gripping the bark with their little talons and watching the dogs sideways as the dogs stare back at them, neither really frightened or intimidated, just...curious.
Edited to add: After I posted this blog, I looked out my bedroom window and watched a baby cardinal land on a tree branch. I have two crape myrtles that we bought for our old house, but we could not find a place to plant them because there was so much rock on the land, so I put them in pots, hoping they will survive until we find a house in New Mexico. The trees are only five feet tall, and the branches are more like twigs. When the baby cardinals land on the twigs, they bob up and down, but the babies hang on with their tiny legs and talons firm and strong until the bobbing stops, confident that their legs, and the tree, will hold.
Monday, May 23, 2011
A Walk in the Park
I took a walk in the park today. There is always a wide variety of birds and other creatures down by the water, including snakes--I was very careful!
The first thing I noticed was a scissor-tailed flycatcher on the telephone wire above my head when I got out of the truck. He had the longest tail I have ever seen on a little bird. He turned his head from side to side, posing for the camera.
Also known as the Texas Bird of Paradise and the Swallowtail Flycatcher, the Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher is among the most exotic-looking birds in Texas. These birds are truly stunning, but in a delicate way, not quite as eye-catching as the equally popular Painted Buntings. They have soft gray heads, pale pink flanks and dark gray wings. Their most distinguishing feature, however, is their long, forked tails that are black on top and white beneath.
Scissor-Tailed Flycatchers are in the Tyrannus genus, in the Tyrannidae family, and are also known as kingbirds. They are beneficial, insect-eating birds, mostly grasshoppers and dragonflies, and convenient to have around, especially if one lives near the river. They are 15 inches or longer when fully grown, though juvenile birds have shorter tails. I photographed both adult and juvenile birds at the park today.
It grew very windy this afternoon, so I started back toward the truck where my husband was fishing. A few feet from his pole, standing tall on a rock, was a large blue heron. My husband didn't even notice him until I started photographing the bird--he stood so still he looked like a statue. One of the more remarkable aspects of herons is their huge wings. They don't seem very large when they're standing still, but as they fly away, you quickly realize how big they are. Their wings span as much as 80 inches!
Just before I got into my truck, I noticed two white ducks beneath a tree. They were huddled close together in the wind, digging through the grass, looking for bugs. I took their picture and when I checked it later on my computer, I would swear one of the ducks is smiling contentedly, snuggled up beside its mate.
There was surprisingly few grackles. I usually see grackles everywhere I go in Texas!
The first thing I noticed was a scissor-tailed flycatcher on the telephone wire above my head when I got out of the truck. He had the longest tail I have ever seen on a little bird. He turned his head from side to side, posing for the camera.
Also known as the Texas Bird of Paradise and the Swallowtail Flycatcher, the Scissor-Tailed Flycatcher is among the most exotic-looking birds in Texas. These birds are truly stunning, but in a delicate way, not quite as eye-catching as the equally popular Painted Buntings. They have soft gray heads, pale pink flanks and dark gray wings. Their most distinguishing feature, however, is their long, forked tails that are black on top and white beneath.
Scissor-Tailed Flycatchers are in the Tyrannus genus, in the Tyrannidae family, and are also known as kingbirds. They are beneficial, insect-eating birds, mostly grasshoppers and dragonflies, and convenient to have around, especially if one lives near the river. They are 15 inches or longer when fully grown, though juvenile birds have shorter tails. I photographed both adult and juvenile birds at the park today.
It grew very windy this afternoon, so I started back toward the truck where my husband was fishing. A few feet from his pole, standing tall on a rock, was a large blue heron. My husband didn't even notice him until I started photographing the bird--he stood so still he looked like a statue. One of the more remarkable aspects of herons is their huge wings. They don't seem very large when they're standing still, but as they fly away, you quickly realize how big they are. Their wings span as much as 80 inches!
Just before I got into my truck, I noticed two white ducks beneath a tree. They were huddled close together in the wind, digging through the grass, looking for bugs. I took their picture and when I checked it later on my computer, I would swear one of the ducks is smiling contentedly, snuggled up beside its mate.
There was surprisingly few grackles. I usually see grackles everywhere I go in Texas!
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
A Family Meal
When we moved into this house, I placed a cart on wheels next to the bedroom window. I put a tray filled with bird seed on top and a glass pan of water on the bottom so the birds could bathe. I didn't really believe the birds would like this feeding station. The house is old and the windows are very low. My large black cat likes to sit in the window and watch the birds, and the dogs enjoy this, as well.
Surprisingly, the birds seem to understand that there is a screen between them and the inside creatures. The only time they flutter off is when they see me move toward the window! I wish I could take pictures of them while they eat, but I think the only way I will be able to do this is if I hide behind the fence and wait. However, they do seem to respond to my voice. I will call out "pretty bird," when the large female cardinal arrives, and she hops closer to the window to look in through the screen. I also sing to the fish whose tank is on the dresser near the window. He comes to the edge of the glass to stare at me when I sing, and the little black-capped chickadees hop into the seed tray when they hear me singing, too, moving closer to the window as if they are trying to hear me, while still chattering away at each other. I think my speaking voice is perhaps a bit abrupt for them, but they do like the singing.
This afternoon, my husband walked into the bedroom where I was typing. He held up his finger for silence then pointed out the window where we watched the most magical moment between a family of cardinals.
There were two baby cardinals perched on the edge of the feeding cart. You can tell baby cardinals, even when they are larger, because they don't have all of their colors, and their beak isn't the bright orange of their parents. The parents were there, though. Both the mother and father were sitting in the tray of seeds. Each parent picked up a seed, cracked the shell, then fed the meat of the sunflower seed to the baby birds.
At first, they appeared to be simply feeding the babies, but they stayed there for at least twenty minutes, and it became apparent that they were trying to teach the baby birds how to break open the seeds on their own.
The moment was hypnotic in its beauty and for that brief period of time, all my worries and concerns seemed to disappear as I watched the tender, compassionate sharing of food between this little family.
When we first started to watch the cardinal family sharing their meal, I wanted to reach for my camera, but I knew, instinctively, this would scare them away. Then I remembered something a very good friend once shared with me. She said, "Sometimes I think God sends us these special moments at times when we don't have a camera in our hands because he wants us to focus all of our attention on what is happening before us, in the beauty of the action, and not the act of taking the picture."
Surprisingly, the birds seem to understand that there is a screen between them and the inside creatures. The only time they flutter off is when they see me move toward the window! I wish I could take pictures of them while they eat, but I think the only way I will be able to do this is if I hide behind the fence and wait. However, they do seem to respond to my voice. I will call out "pretty bird," when the large female cardinal arrives, and she hops closer to the window to look in through the screen. I also sing to the fish whose tank is on the dresser near the window. He comes to the edge of the glass to stare at me when I sing, and the little black-capped chickadees hop into the seed tray when they hear me singing, too, moving closer to the window as if they are trying to hear me, while still chattering away at each other. I think my speaking voice is perhaps a bit abrupt for them, but they do like the singing.
This afternoon, my husband walked into the bedroom where I was typing. He held up his finger for silence then pointed out the window where we watched the most magical moment between a family of cardinals.
There were two baby cardinals perched on the edge of the feeding cart. You can tell baby cardinals, even when they are larger, because they don't have all of their colors, and their beak isn't the bright orange of their parents. The parents were there, though. Both the mother and father were sitting in the tray of seeds. Each parent picked up a seed, cracked the shell, then fed the meat of the sunflower seed to the baby birds.
At first, they appeared to be simply feeding the babies, but they stayed there for at least twenty minutes, and it became apparent that they were trying to teach the baby birds how to break open the seeds on their own.
The moment was hypnotic in its beauty and for that brief period of time, all my worries and concerns seemed to disappear as I watched the tender, compassionate sharing of food between this little family.
When we first started to watch the cardinal family sharing their meal, I wanted to reach for my camera, but I knew, instinctively, this would scare them away. Then I remembered something a very good friend once shared with me. She said, "Sometimes I think God sends us these special moments at times when we don't have a camera in our hands because he wants us to focus all of our attention on what is happening before us, in the beauty of the action, and not the act of taking the picture."
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Mother's Day is for the birds!
It is spring, the time of love in bird land. Early this morning, as my husband handed me a lovely bouquet of orange roses, I glanced out the window in front of my bed and watched as a tiny female house sparrow hopped onto the fence. Her mate hopped down beside her. He had a seed in his beak, which he gently, lovingly, placed in her beak.
I have seen this often between birds during mating season. At our last house, with the two ponds in front, the females liked to sit in front of the water as the males hopped up to the food dish, then brought seeds to their mates, placing the precious food in the beak of their mates just as gently and compassionately as a husband placing a bouquet of flowers in the arms of his adoring wife, feeding the love in their relationship, strengthening the bond, saying "thank you for being my partner in creating a family."
I am not surprised when I see affection between animals, what does surprise me is the obvious depth of emotions. I love watching vultures, who mate for life, land on a post then slowly inch closer to each other, nuzzling necks, preening feathers. Sometimes, one of the vultures--I am assuming it is the male--will fly up and around the other, then land beside his mate again.
The Northern Cardinals are wonderful to watch. They follow each other closely, flitting from branch to branch, bright flashes of red amongst the ever-greens, never more than a few feet away from each other until, of course, it is time to watch over the nest.
Some of the most precious observations are spent watching the parents care for their baby birds. I love watching the mother and father sparrows fly up to the nest every ten to fifteen minutes with a bug in their beaks, gently lowering it down to the chirping, gaping mouths of their babies.
Road Runners are fun to watch, too. When the baby is ready, the parents will take the young Road Runner out to hunt lizards. They strut across the fields with their heads moving carefully from side to side, and once they spot their prey, they pounce so quickly it is faster than a finger snap, and the baby watches carefully, awed by the hunting skill of its parents.
I hope you all have a very happy Mother's Day with all the little hatchlings in your bevy of quail, your peep of chickens, your palette of painted buntings, your venue of vultures, your host of sparrows, your dole of doves...
I have seen this often between birds during mating season. At our last house, with the two ponds in front, the females liked to sit in front of the water as the males hopped up to the food dish, then brought seeds to their mates, placing the precious food in the beak of their mates just as gently and compassionately as a husband placing a bouquet of flowers in the arms of his adoring wife, feeding the love in their relationship, strengthening the bond, saying "thank you for being my partner in creating a family."
I am not surprised when I see affection between animals, what does surprise me is the obvious depth of emotions. I love watching vultures, who mate for life, land on a post then slowly inch closer to each other, nuzzling necks, preening feathers. Sometimes, one of the vultures--I am assuming it is the male--will fly up and around the other, then land beside his mate again.
The Northern Cardinals are wonderful to watch. They follow each other closely, flitting from branch to branch, bright flashes of red amongst the ever-greens, never more than a few feet away from each other until, of course, it is time to watch over the nest.
Some of the most precious observations are spent watching the parents care for their baby birds. I love watching the mother and father sparrows fly up to the nest every ten to fifteen minutes with a bug in their beaks, gently lowering it down to the chirping, gaping mouths of their babies.
Road Runners are fun to watch, too. When the baby is ready, the parents will take the young Road Runner out to hunt lizards. They strut across the fields with their heads moving carefully from side to side, and once they spot their prey, they pounce so quickly it is faster than a finger snap, and the baby watches carefully, awed by the hunting skill of its parents.
I hope you all have a very happy Mother's Day with all the little hatchlings in your bevy of quail, your peep of chickens, your palette of painted buntings, your venue of vultures, your host of sparrows, your dole of doves...
Sunday, May 1, 2011
The Turkey Vulture
There is an exceptionally large turkey vulture who lives in the forest across the road. She flies out and over our house a few times a day, very low, calling out as she flies, which is something new to me. We had vultures living near our last house, but I never heard them call out as this one does.
I suspect she is the reason why the baby squirrels no longer sit at the very top of the dead tree in the yard. They still visit the house, but very early in the morning, before the dogs are awake, and they tend to wander around the trees that are thick with leaves instead of sitting out in the open.
The interesting thing about this turkey vulture is that I only see her with a flock on occasion, and turkey vultures are social creatures. They tend to hang out in large flocks that include black vultures.
I did see a black vulture fly over our house a few days ago with a small, gray, furry creature in its claws. It looked like a baby rabbit. Some vultures will eat small animals if there is a shortage of food. With the wildfires we've been having in Texas, and the extreme drought, combined with the fact that many of these birds are feeding babies, and there seems to be an overabundance of vultures this year, I do suspect there might be a food shortage.
I doubt that it would, or could, fly off with my chihuahua, but I do not allow him to be outside alone...just in case.
I suspect she is the reason why the baby squirrels no longer sit at the very top of the dead tree in the yard. They still visit the house, but very early in the morning, before the dogs are awake, and they tend to wander around the trees that are thick with leaves instead of sitting out in the open.
The interesting thing about this turkey vulture is that I only see her with a flock on occasion, and turkey vultures are social creatures. They tend to hang out in large flocks that include black vultures.
I did see a black vulture fly over our house a few days ago with a small, gray, furry creature in its claws. It looked like a baby rabbit. Some vultures will eat small animals if there is a shortage of food. With the wildfires we've been having in Texas, and the extreme drought, combined with the fact that many of these birds are feeding babies, and there seems to be an overabundance of vultures this year, I do suspect there might be a food shortage.
I doubt that it would, or could, fly off with my chihuahua, but I do not allow him to be outside alone...just in case.
Birds!
I counted nineteen birds on the back porch this morning and twelve on the front patio--our house is now a home. The interesting thing about these birds is the remarkable variety. At our old house, we had a flock of at least fifty house sparrows living in the Mustang grape vines. We also had an equally large flock of white winged doves in the back yard and regular visits from cardinals, titmouse, Mockingbirds, and one lonely, little male Painted Bunting.
I think one of the reasons why we had less of a variety of birds at the old house was because we had such a large quantity of birds! Now, we are seeing birds that leave us breathless.
A few days ago, I saw a large black bird in the backyard with a shimmering blue head and neck. It was, like most birds, very fast and difficult to photograph, but even with a blurry picture I could tell it is a type of grackle.
This morning, my husband saw a small bird that was completely blue. A deep, beautiful blue that caught the brief rays of sunlight shining through the clouds with a shimmer on its wings.
Later in the morning, we saw a deep green bird that resembled a female cardinal, though I've never seen a green cardinal before. We also saw two female Painted Buntings. They are easy to identify. Their color sparkles like the males, but their backs are a shiny green and their bellies lemon yellow. They seem much smaller than the males.
And, of course, dozens of house sparrows and doves. There is a pair of ringed-neck doves that likes to lie down in the dirt by the brick patio in the early morning.
There are two birds that interest me the most, though. There is a Mockingbird that follows me from tree to tree, just like the one at our old house. We have many Mockingbirds, but this particular bird clearly follows me around. I took the dogs out a few days ago and sat in one of the porch chairs. Buddy was on one side of me, Holly on the other, and Chewy the chichihuahua jumped onto my lap. The Mockingbird flew onto a branch directly above our heads, about ten feet away and sang and sang. Sometimes it appeared as if its beak was shut, but it was still making a trilling sound. I think we were out there a full half hour, and it never stopped singing. It also follows me to the front of the property when I go for my walks then stops at the last tree and calls to me as I walk down the street. It is always in the tree, waiting, when I return.
The other bird is the large female cardinal, the mate to the large, bright male who disappears the second he sees me move through the window glass. She is not at all shy. In fact, she will land on the table and eat seeds when I am standing a few feet away with my camera. Sometimes she lands on the ground while the dogs are walking around. At first, I though I was imagining her boldness, but my husband told me the same thing this morning, that he will take the dogs out early in the morning and the female cardinal will land on a chair, the table, or the ground, just a few feet away from him.
Each day I feel more comfortable in this house. It's amazing how the little creatures can make a person feel welcome. We just have to be aware of their presence.
I think one of the reasons why we had less of a variety of birds at the old house was because we had such a large quantity of birds! Now, we are seeing birds that leave us breathless.
A few days ago, I saw a large black bird in the backyard with a shimmering blue head and neck. It was, like most birds, very fast and difficult to photograph, but even with a blurry picture I could tell it is a type of grackle.
This morning, my husband saw a small bird that was completely blue. A deep, beautiful blue that caught the brief rays of sunlight shining through the clouds with a shimmer on its wings.
Later in the morning, we saw a deep green bird that resembled a female cardinal, though I've never seen a green cardinal before. We also saw two female Painted Buntings. They are easy to identify. Their color sparkles like the males, but their backs are a shiny green and their bellies lemon yellow. They seem much smaller than the males.
And, of course, dozens of house sparrows and doves. There is a pair of ringed-neck doves that likes to lie down in the dirt by the brick patio in the early morning.
There are two birds that interest me the most, though. There is a Mockingbird that follows me from tree to tree, just like the one at our old house. We have many Mockingbirds, but this particular bird clearly follows me around. I took the dogs out a few days ago and sat in one of the porch chairs. Buddy was on one side of me, Holly on the other, and Chewy the chichihuahua jumped onto my lap. The Mockingbird flew onto a branch directly above our heads, about ten feet away and sang and sang. Sometimes it appeared as if its beak was shut, but it was still making a trilling sound. I think we were out there a full half hour, and it never stopped singing. It also follows me to the front of the property when I go for my walks then stops at the last tree and calls to me as I walk down the street. It is always in the tree, waiting, when I return.
The other bird is the large female cardinal, the mate to the large, bright male who disappears the second he sees me move through the window glass. She is not at all shy. In fact, she will land on the table and eat seeds when I am standing a few feet away with my camera. Sometimes she lands on the ground while the dogs are walking around. At first, I though I was imagining her boldness, but my husband told me the same thing this morning, that he will take the dogs out early in the morning and the female cardinal will land on a chair, the table, or the ground, just a few feet away from him.
Each day I feel more comfortable in this house. It's amazing how the little creatures can make a person feel welcome. We just have to be aware of their presence.
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