As a life-long doodler, much of my work tends to birdify itself. I only need to watch as, pen in hand, something birdlike comes to life on the page. It's never what I hope it'll look like in the end but sometimes whatever alights on the papers is somehow just right. Here is a smattering of examples. Please enjoy and do let me know your favorite!
As a life-long doodler, much of my work tends to birdify itself. I only need to watch as, pen in hand, something birdlike comes to life on the page. It's never what I hope it'll look like in the end but sometimes whatever alights on the papers is somehow just right. Here is a smattering of examples. Please enjoy and do let me know your favorite!
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Hummingbirds are the busy, iridescent little flashes that are here and long gone before you can barely get an idea of these tiny brilliant lives. They're simply very attractive, very charismatic little critters that harbor a lot of love from hummingbird enthusiasts around the world. Here on the eastern side of the U.S., Ruby-throated Hummingbirds are the sole breeders while out west they have a much wider variety including Black-chinned, Allen's, Anna's, Rufous and more. But don't let that take away from your hummingbird gusto, the feisty Ruby-throateds are more than entertaining. If you're a hummingbird novice who wants to explore the fascinating world of these tiny creatures, you can bring hummingbirds to your yard with the help of a simple feeder. The feeder itself is best when it's easily cleaned and, of course, red. It's also helpful when the feeder incorporates an ant moat, a cup-like space in the middle of the feeder that you fill with water and thus keeps ants from crawling down the hanging apparatus and into the feeding holes. Another important tidbit is the need to keep the nectar fresh. A mix of four parts water to one part sugar can attract mold and deter hummers so its important to change every three days or so. If the feeder is in straight sun, you may have to change it more often. You can tell when the nectar is going bad if it starts to become cloudy. Don't despair if you aren't getting hummers, it may just take some time for them to start noticing the feeder. What may help is to incorporate red flowers nearby to further attract the little buggers. But just be sure to change the nectar often, because there's no doubt: they won't feed from a feeder with bad nectar. So with this, enjoy a view into the highly esteemed world of hummingbirds. There's a lot to love about feeding wild birds in your backyard. The near-constant come and go of all manner of species can give novice watchers a real-life learning experience. Some might be surprised at what some sunflower seed can attract. Here in suburban Maryland, the list is long. There are the well known cardinals, chickadees and blue jays, as well as titmice, goldfinches, house finches, white breasted nuthatch, downy woodpecker, chipping sparrow and more. While species interaction might mostly consist of shoving each other off the feeding perches, others may include the passing off of seed or bits of suet from one mate to another. Sometimes a displays ensue, like wing flashing and body shivering, with special calls reserved just for the mate. Now if feeding birds isn't something you agree with, just know that we're an animal that just happened to figure out what feed suits another animal — birds, in this case. And we not only derive pleasure from it, we're also helping species proliferate. And it's fun to watch and learn what species exist in our backyards. What's more they might even bring their fledged young to the show and you can watch their awkward fledgie escapades. If you're looking to identify a bird you might not recognise you might find Audubon's app useful, or visit Cornell's All About Birds sight and search their bird guide. Overall, this is a very rewarding endeavor, especially when you can sit near a window or out on your porch and get closer to the birds than you might ever otherwise. So try it out! Oh and be sure to get a squirrel-proof feeder if you don't want to have to keep refilling your feeder every couple days. Check out your local wild bird store for squirrel feeding options. Enjoy! When you're stuck in suburbia and you consider yourself an outdoor person, there's nothing better than climbing into a hammock tent and spending the night listening to nature. It may surprise you what you hear. I've been sleeping out for the past couple weeks and have my hammock set in the back of the backyard where there's a line of white pines. I was able to hang it in between two of the trees and that's where I swing in the evening time, listening to the tree frogs as the twilight slips into darkness. Some of the nighttime sounds are what you'd expect: cats or raccoons. But I was thrilled to wake up in the darkest hours when there weren't any cars or the occasional motorcycle zooming by on the other side of the park and what did I hear but a Great Horned Owl! It was asking if I was there (I'm here, are you?) and got a response from another, farther off individual. Whoo knew? I worked the summers of 2003 and 2005 on what's known as Project Puffin which was a project started in the 70s by Dr. Steve Kress who brought puffins back from near extirpation (in effect, extinction from Maine's coast) after nearly complete overhunting. While the birds were doing well far north of Maine in Newfoundland and other locations, the U.S. had not enough to realistically expect healthy population retention. Steve Kress' work in the 70s was phenomenal, transplanting just under a thousand young birds to be reared in burrows to fledge (fledge: fly for the first time) in hopes that they'd eventually return to nest on the islands from which they fledged and breed. It was a huge risk and took a determination unmatched, especially what with knowing the birds go out to sea to unknown locales to basically grow up for several years. Well over the course of about seven years and with the help of decoys Kress fashioned out of wood, some of the puffins came back after the first four years, interested in these familiar grounds and the decoys which the humans hoped would attract the birds back to explore all the possible the nesting locations. Well, it took seven years but as more puffins came back four pair finally nested on Eastern Egg Rock in 1981. By the time I made my first voyage out to the Maine islands as a Project Puffin intern (my first time working as a field biologist) the Atlantic Puffin was doing great, in fact they were nesting in the hundreds, spread out on seven Audubon-protected islands where I worked for the two summers of '03 and '05. Well, now they're in trouble again, vulnerable to the effects of climate change on our oceans. While we know that extreme weather has been something of perhaps a vague but — I believe — real contribution of climate change, it seems this is now reflecting strongly in Project Puffin birds. What recent extreme weather patterns did was take its toll on the food ability available to puffins raising their young, essentially changing around fish populations, what species were abundant and where they were at essential feeding times during the puffin breeding season. Puffins eat herring and hake (you know, those longer baby fish that dangle neatly from a puffin beak, see here) but in the summer of 2013 biologists were finding puffin chicks starving in their burrows surrounded by butterfish (pictured here) too large for the tiny young to swallow. The summer of 2013 resulted in only 10% of puffin pairs producing fledglings, this on islands I remember rearing strong, healthy colonies. Reading about all this in the yearly Project Puffin newsletter this winter has broken my heart. And to know that it's happening worldwide is more than a warning, it's a red flag waving, frantically. Click on my blog page my a photo montage of my Project Puffin Experience. Migration for our birds, on the other hand (wing?). Yes. Saw young robin a few weeks ago outside of the pool in the apartment complex near the river. As I came upon it, I saw the obvious hunch which warned me it was about to fly away upon my approach. It didn't because quickly hunched, myself, onto the grass while speaking softly to it in Spanish (yes I'm a weirdo and even though it had no idea what I was saying, I managed to placate with words soft enough for it to stop its thoughts and not unusual instinct to fly away from this approaching human). Once it apparently decided to stay, I kept still while watching it go about its own business of looking for food. Food is absolutely on the brain of every animal as we fall quickly into the rainy winter season that's starting to rear its head. What I soon found with my young robin friend was that it turned out to be a great and very beneficial thing for it to decide to remain in the vibrant green grass. As I watched, it wasn't even 2 minutes before we both quickly learned how bountiful this patch of grass turned out to be! My new friend found him or herself a couple of gloriously plump, squirmy grubs in the very same patch of grass that had a week or so earlier had gotten more than its fill of water by the fact that someone forgot to turn off the sprinklers over one weekend. I became overly dismayed at the waste of the gushing water that overflowed the grass and poured through down the sidewalks and into the street, soaking up colors (aka toxins) of the rainbow. Watching yellow warblers later the same day drink from tha very puddle, I was pretty peeved enough to make a bit of a deal of it on my Twitter account (don't mind me, I gripe a lot.) But while it may (or may not) have been detrimental to that one species, I guess this was Nature's way of showing me that maybe there wouldn't have been such big juicy grubs if not for all the water that flowed then that green patch of grass. Grubs that existed in that well watered swatch of uber green grass may not have been even present much lessfound by a young robin with speckles on his chest, if not for that overflow of water letting me know this would be this individual robin's first migration (however far robins may or may not go, this is a mild winter kind of place.) Nonetheless, it was thanks to mother nature and my own patience and willingness to learn from another species that I managed to sit, watch and learn. I had a chance for this earth of ours to remind me me that even the birds born this same year are getting ready for migration. Migration, in fact, that, for that individual species of bird may be temperate; a temperate migrant is the kind of species that simply shifts to lower latitudes (meaning we might see more northerly of the same species through thismild winter) versus the kinds of migrants like the lovely arctic tern (as seen above, one of my favorites thanks to working with Project Puffin) with its longest migration of all, twice a year, from one pole to thee other, the antarctic to the arctic and back again as the weather warms into the next spring we're so lucky to witness, year after year. So why not take a look at the birds that haven't left yet and let's know that some of them are on their way south, be it a far trip or not, they need those juicy grubs to help get through the trials of flying southward and every bit of protein helps. A peek into the life of a handful of field biologists in Puerto Rico's Cabo Rojo National Wildlife Refuge working with and researching a fasinatingly communal bird called the Smooth Billed Ani. To give an idea of some of the birds I've come to know and love along the way, I've got a gallery here of some of those I've come across. The birds you see below (and the kids, including yours truly) were part of a project that I worked in Cabo Rojo National Wildlife Refuge. Specifically we were tracking colonies of Smooth Billed Anis. Part of the job involved using tall mist nets to capture these birds as they came out of roost (after, through careful monitoring the evening before, we determined the tree a specific territorial group had decided upon in which to roost.) Groups were in the area of about 8-20 individuals and they have the fascinating behavior of laying all their eggs in one basket (or nest, if you want to avoid cliche presumptions!). This habit usually led to groups that primarily consisted of females and boy would they lay! Sometimes we'd have upwards of a dozen eggs in one nest and, by careful observation, we found that sometimes even females in the same group were still picky enough that they'd kick out an egg or two before laying their own! Either way, though, the benefit of living in these territorial groups helped each and every individual because there's always a male or two lookout and birds that flock together can keep tabs on each other as well as the goings on around them. Our job was to trap the birds using a variety of means, including enormous mist nets (which sometimes gave way to a good amount of by-catch as seen below by the mockingbird and the bananaquit!) But, when placement of the net was sucessful, we'd catch adults and band them according to an individual ID that we'd record down so we'd know what bird from whichever colony we pursued from one morning or afternoon to the next. Another, much more difficult means of capture was using a round wire trap with doors which were easy to pass in through but hard to get back out of (think crab traps). We'd use "bait" which were some anis that we raised ourselves to entice adults to go into the traps. Much less success here, but various trials and attempts, whether with nets or wire traps, most attempts were hit and miss a lot of the time. Nevertheless, we did get some radio transmitters on various birds from different colonies so we had the ease of opening up the radio transmitter which helped us locate colonies at a much more rapid rate. While the birds nested and fought amoung themselves (we even saw something of a "war" between adjacent colonies; prime real estate was at stake, you see.) So, with colored bands and even painted beaks (using whiteout, which chipped off over time) we could get an idea of the various individuals and the hierarchy of a colony. And, when the nests didn't get raided by the horrible influx of rats to the island, we got to climb to precarious heights on extendible ladders to reach the nests and monitor the hatching and growth of the ani chicks and eventually, once large enough, get them banded too. By taking blood samples of the birds we caught, the research assistants had us bottling up tiny vials that would eventually give them the information that they could take back to do genetic work on to see what kind of success one female from the next was having in getting her genes passed along. All in all, it was a fantastic fall in which we spent in the tropical dry thorn-scrub & grassland section of Puerto Rico, which really was a stunning place (and don't get me started about the magnificent cloud action I was constantly in awe of each and every day!). I hope you'll enjoy this little peek into one of the bird wonderlands that I was beyond fortunate to work within as a biological field technician, hands on with another fascinating species of the whole avian community which forever I hold in my heart as one of my favorite experiences (just another favorite among favorites)... Feel free to scroll down and hear my tirade which I "tiraded" to keep small. ;) So, in the meantime, I need to find a way to occupy myself. I think I have such a history with birds that it needs to finally become digitized in some kinda special, multimedia way. We'll see... But seriously, who knew you couldn't get a one-way ticket to Peru? Not me. I was too excited dreaming up-in-the-air possibilities of what to do after completing my position working with the Caciques (..birds, those of the yellow-rumped persuasion). This was a position predetermined to last through mid-December. But trying to cross LAX on LOW fuel had me digging my own hole as I stumbled from one end of that monstrosity to the entire opposite side (with questionable help..). Anyways, the entire night which started in PDX didn't end in Lima, like I saw it doing in my mind's eye. That eye was waaay off. So, ultimately, thanks to a Brother in Law of the DannyBoy persuasion; it ended with me back in Eugene (notice the surprised looks on our faces above? That's how I felt. Someone did something wrong, but who?) Not on purpose, I hope. Anyways, the "all knowing" internet seemed to think it was okay for me to buy that ticket to Lima, Peru and keep the way home unknown since I had such dreams of entering Medellin, the City of Flowers, Colombia donde hay una chica rara y bellesa como el otro pedazo que yo tengo aqui. But, anyways, as per Euge (or Yooj), Real Life had Other Ideas. So there I was with a ticket that wanted to bring me there but I lacked the ticket that they wanted me to have to ensure I wouldn't stick there (Bird-wise? Dunno how hard it'd be to pull me back out of South America!). Nonetheless, the situation is over and, seeing as how no deep Amazon culture needs to see what the heck an Iphone is (I call mine Majick: Fake Magic). There are far more important things than that, and I believe the most desolate, un-"civilized" tribes already know all of that and more. Now if I can find a way to finally get there, to the Amazon (with all the most proper of manners, of course, thanks to a strong reprimand by good ol' LAX and employees not entirely keen on helping a desperate girl on the dirty floors wondering what all went so wrong that she suddenly was no longer on her way to Lima in those earliest hours of the morning of Aug. 29th. So? Shite. But, to learn from this experience, I'm taking life seriously here so that I can see if I can (sooner rather than later) get myself down to South America to see a girl I love and those birds that have already left, as the crow flies, southward. Peru. The Amazon. Where I'm headed to live for the next three months... I'm getting ready to reenter the world of field biology: tent living, buggy, lush wonderlands and lack of refrigeration. I've cut my hair,prolly 10 inches or less — there's still more than enough to spare. That was so that I don't overheat in the rainforest. I've also managed to buy WAAAY too much equipment from REI; packed and unpacked and repacked and unpacked and overpacked and am trying to underpack because there's no way I can hold every toy I want to bring. What else..Oh! I've also recently been in an altercation with a massive raccoon, the matriarch of her tribe and I, somehow, came out unscathed. Somehow I felt like that was a challenge I was put to overcome to see if I was up for the greater challenges presented out in the Amazon. But seriously: I'm excited. And ready. Ready, ready, ready. |
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