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Hawk Watch Yesterday

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NO-t/SC - (Not Off-topic, See Conclusion)

Also not at Hawk Mountain during fall migration, although I highly recommend a visit.

There are occasionally soaring kettles of hawks there, all condensed, riding a thermal south between the narrowing ridgeline vee. Even when it is just a few here and there the pro-birders are simply amazing to listen to*; able to identify immature, species, gender with the naked eye before I can find them with binoculars. If you are close enough Hawk Mountain is worth a visit during fall migration.

https://www.hawkmountain.org/

This was not Hawk Mountain; this was twenty minutes of staring patiently out a house window. And worth it.

The Sharp Shinned hawk that feasts on wrens and sparrows near the birdfeeders landed atop a fence post at the edge of the pasture and remained there, motionless during a heavy snowfall. Motionless for a solid 20 minutes, starting to look like a snowy mound.

I can tell when he (she) is around; our feeders are often mobbed, during a snow there are 3x the number of birds as there are perches, and a lot of squabbling. And then, suddenly, poof, like magic, not a bird to be seen. It’s hawk watch time.

I’ve watched her (him?) grab one in mid-air, take it to the ground and then fly through the (closely spaced) 6-line electric fence while awkwardly carrying lunch, to land in the pasture and tear it apart. Nature, red in tooth and claw. A hawk’s gotta eat too.

This time it (they/them) sat there, sat there, sat there motionless until the feeders were once again mobbed, and then waited some more, until an unfortunate incautious meal few too close. Lightning fast, and lunch was served. I hope it was one of the dang house wrens that prefers to nest in my canoe stems, or in my shop if I open the garage doors.

*OK, you know me, and stories, can’t resist.
About the Hawk Mountain pro-birder identification dialog, an Ornithologist friend was there when the pro birders were vying for first to call out identifications. He waited for his chance and went off on a sudden riff, sounding reasonably normal at first. I wish I had the specifics of his trickster call, something like:

Pointing vaguely out to the north, beginning with a standard ID call “Northern Goshawk” or somesuch.

But becoming increasingly detailed as he raised his binoculars, “Adult female”. . . . . pause. . . . .“You can clearly see the white eyebrow”. . . . . “And look, even the red eye”. . . .

And more incredibly more fantastically detailed; “She’s banded”. . . . .pause. . . . . “Out of southern Ontario. . . . . “Hatched on the north shore of Georgian Bay”. . . .pause . . . . . “From a nest in a lightning-struck maple”. . . . .

It was a thing of perfectly timed performance art, intoned authoritatively deadpan while staring intently into the distance. Most of the birders took it well, saw the humor and were able to laugh at their own antics.

That was, undoubtedly, his point.

I will bring this back around to canoeing. A quietly paddled canoe, in marsh or swamp, lake edge or slow river is, in my estimation, the best way to see birdlife and other critters.

Beats walking.
 
Any kind of quiet travel thru pockets of bird habitat works, by foot, paddle or pedal in my limited experience.
A number of years ago I casually encountered wildlife on my morning walks before work through my wildish valley and eventually I became enamoured with the birdsong and wing flashes of colour from undergrowth and foliage. In time this fascination grew. I've never been a twitcher nor did I ever become a serious watcher, merely always I've been a lazy eyed daydreaming observer and nothing more. But oh the lifetime of wildlife acquaintances has wonderfully grown. The accessible habitat has proved more important than the mode of transport. If you can pass through a wetland, meadow or forest least detected all the better whether you're on a bike or in a canoe. In fact I found out quite by accident my bicycle was the best vehicle for stealthily whispering thru varied ecosystems fairly undetected by birds. Quiet patience. My life list has been entirely in my head, which at the best of times has never held all that much information, least of all lists of common names and scrambled lists of Latin. But it is there. And it has grown. Annual lists have no meaning for me. Observing and fully loving the world is not a competition to me. Birders say that it's best to learn bird calls before visual ID. I've found that is true because you're far more likely to hear a bird before you see it if at all. Some are easy, others not so much. Warblers and thrushes yes, certain sparrows yes and so too hawks but the mimics of jays, crows and ravens can be amusingly confusingly natural fun. Welcome to their world. I added names to my list I never dreamed I'd ever encounter in a lifetime; golden crowned kinglets, brown sided towhees, sharp shinned hawks, bobolinks, saw-whet owls and scarlet tanagers. And many more too numerous to list, all heard with my ears, seen with my eyes and fondly cached in my memory. Birding became for a time an addictive foray into the wild. As per canoe birding the list has been decidedly less so but equally as exciting. Quiet portages and quieter water travel increases the likelihood you'll encounter bird life. Banging gunnels and splashing paddles push wildlife from immediate view but encounters can and do still happen. Lastly, despite the birds I have known locally there's nothing quite like the fresh experience of meeting even the same ornithological suspects on a backcountry canoe trip. The eagles, sparrows and osprey I encounter on a canoe trip are not the eagles, sparrows and osprey I see in my home valley, because they are more. They are part of my canoe trip experience. All has value and each has perspective. Find yours...quietly.
 
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Any kind of quiet travel thru pockets of bird habitat works, by foot, paddle or pedal in my limited experience.
Find yours...quietly.

I agree, quietly is the key. Quiet enough to hear faint twitter or scribblescrabble in the brush.

I am not much of a biker, and even at my belabored pace pedaling is too fast for anything smaller than shorebirds. Walking is better, provided it is an easy trail and I don’t need to watch each foot placement too carefully.

One of my favorite observational techniques is to remain immobile and allow stuff to come to me. Sitting on the ground in cover or, my favorite, reclining in a day hammock in camp.

Combine that motionless repose with the unquiet technique, pishing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AAniMYkEnBM

Some people add an occasional putaputaputa tongue-rattle that sounds like a flutter of wings.

Pishing definitely attracts songbirds. Best ever pishing episode, friend Kevin and I were on a hike on an open forest trail, not the ideal pishing venue, but decided to lay in the leaf litter a bit off trail and pish.

An amazing variety of birds began to land in the trees around us. A pair of woodpeckers, not something usually attracted by pishing, landed on a limb overhead and began pecking off bits of bark. Bits of bark aimed directly at our heads, too well aimed to have been coincidental.
 
We have great birding here at the house on the edge of million acres of BLM and surrounding irrigated pasture land. The bald eagles are in the Valley for the next two months which coincides with the calving season. They arrive to eat the placentas. I have plenty of golden eagles, hawks, prairie falcons, owls, Northern Harriers and Cooper's hawks in the yard. I really like seeing Ferruginous and red shouldered hawks. We have rough-legged hawks winter here from the Arctic. They fly low and perch on fence posts.

I sleep in the backyard pretty often and enjoy the Great Horned Owls, sometimes in a group. The older I get the more patience I have for birds.

There is nothing like going out in the field with an experienced birder. Except for this year I have been signing up with the local Christmas Bird Count each year sponsored by the Audobon Society.
 
I was lucky enough to keep a broad-winged hawk which became almost tame several years ago... I found it sitting in the driveway, it did not fly away and I picked it up after it ran into some tall grass.

It had a temporary home perched on a dowel under the cap in my truck, eagerly eating bits of steak from the hand. At night it would sleep on the perch with it's head under a wing. I can understand why people got into falconry, his bird had an attraction that couldn't be missed. Those piercing large eyes especially.

It would not fly well for any distance. When I picked it up, there were crows flying around, swooping down at it aggressively. After saving it from the murder of crows overhead which seemed intent on relentless attacks, the hawk rewarded me for the rescue by sinking it's needle-sharp talons into my forearm, where it stayed perched falconry-style without trying to escape... not easy getting those off.

Broad-winged hawks are common migrating through S Ont during the fall where there will be thousands seen at high altitude overhead, looking like scattered grains of pepper. Many dying during fall migration, but this little hawk was a thing of beauty and after several days with it, it was great to see it fly off under it's own power.... at the same time, sad since it would not stay in spite of the free meals which seems to have been one way to train them, and migration was probably too great a need.

None of my photos turned out well enough to capture it's appearance, esp seen in close, this google photo is almost identical.

4033083622_0be9a86b84.jpg
 
PS... red-eyed vireos are the most common songbirds in the Algonquin area deciduous forests, they can be heard singing nonstop all day June-July but difficult to see since they're almost always hidden by leaves high in trees. Finally got to see one out in the open and it too, spent most of it's time singing. Birding ain't easy.

Great vid by someone who has a tremendous amount of patience to be able to catch this, lots of song...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_yWCGsMjO_c
 
We have great birding here at the house on the edge of million acres of BLM and surrounding irrigated pasture land.

The birding at my woodsy down-hollow home is pretty good. Of course we go through $60 of (my custom nut/fruit/seed) mix every 2 months in winter. It is worth it to for the simple pleasures, and the occasional exciting WTF rarity.

On the flip side, some of the local Metro-area birder-alerts, for folks trying to build an impressive life-list, involve wandered or storm blown species, often appearing at, kid you not. . . . .the Back River Sewage Treatment facility.

Smell that? Yeah, that smells like the alert-reported European Herring Gull at blew across the ocean. I’m checking it off on my life list!

(I do not have a Life List. I am very color blind; freak a bunch of LGB’s (Little Grey Birds).
 
Twice last week, I saw some massive eagles feeding on deer road kills. Crows were giving them heck, but they were keeping their talons in that miserable frozen hide. Wish I'd pulled over to get pictures. I love watching birds of prey, in or out of the canoe.
 
Mike,
Birders far and wide always check out the waste water treatment plant. We have one. That is where the waterfowl hangs out.
 
Toronto's High Park has a popular hawk watch hill since it's easy access to a million or more. The most abundant raptors at times are usually broad-winged hawks which can be in the hundreds... most city residents won't notice them since they're at altitude looking like scattered grains of pepper. The area experts can be heard identifying species in the vid below.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Iot3ssOXeI
 
Birders far and wide always check out the waste water treatment plant. We have one. That is where the waterfowl hangs out.

I’m aware of the glories awaiting at the sewage treatment plant, I’ve been casually birding for 50 years, had the opportunity to hang out with Ornithologists for most of that, and still pay (minor) attention to local Birder-alerts.

Waste plants and landfills near the coastal shore get more blown-thousands-of-miles out of range rarities. Same with stuff stormed onto obscure Aleutian islands, or wandered across the Mexican border. Exciting rarity in south Texas or Arizona, suspicious burrito filling 100 miles further south. I’m not going to the sewage treatment plant just to see some rare gull that shouldn’t be here, or flying to Adak in hopes of seeing some storm-blown Russian. Uncommon stuff, seen while paddling, or at home on feeders or in the fields will suffice.

We had a painted bunting at the feeders a year ago, maybe the same one that drew hordes of birders to Great Falls. Hung around for a couple days and not seen again since.

https://www.ecowatch.com/painted-bunting-habitat-maryland-2649749970.html?rebelltitem=2#rebelltitem2

A couple years earlier the birder-alerts reported a snowy owl making appearances on the eastern shore. Not incredibly rare, but uncommon enough that I’d never seen one, and was willing to make that trek on the off chance of a glimpse.

Didn’t need to; looking out a window one day I saw what at first I thought was a speckled white trash bag caught on a stump in the pasture, then thought “No, wait, what the heck is that?” and grabbed the binoculars.

A Snowy had also been reported one county over, and delighted us with a visit. Didn’t even need to leave the house.

I enjoy the home rarities, but I enjoy our long familar neighbors as much or more. We have had a pair (probably not the same pair) of Red Shouldered hawks nesting in the backwoods, successfully raising young for the last 25 years. Not always in the same tree/nest, probably their progeny in later years. I love their calls, and think I can discern the difference between “I laid an egg and my cloaca hurts!” and “F#$% you annoying Crows, go away” complaints. Even when it’s just the two of them the conversation is fascinating, again anthropomorphically imagining “Did you remember to bring home a vole this time?

I generally like crows, and ravens. The three (always three, siblings?) crows who spent days attempting to awkwardly hover and peck out suet - one ballsy, madly flapping hoverer at the hanging suet feeder, two on the ground below, waiting for pecked tidbits to fall - were a comical joy to watch. I appreciate crow’s adaptability, problem solving intelligence and multi-year hang around family structure. Just don’t murder mob our nesting hawk neighbors dammit. Or pester the owls.

I recently saw a video in which a guy, trying to sleep in one morning, had a noisy flock of crows cawing and croaking from a tree near his bedroom. “Near” being 30 yards away. He grabbed a laser pointer and flashed out it the open window in the branches. The reaction was an instantaneous crow evacuation.

I enjoy watching y’all’s Corvidae antics. Just don’t be messing with my raptor buddies; new laser pointer is on order.

Apologies for again wandering off canoe-topic. Back on target, we did once host the area’s largest concentration of house wrens, nesting in canoe stems on the outside racks. 16 boats on the racks, two stems each, no vacancy bow or stern. Dollar Store mini beach balls, half deflated and tied in under the deck plates, resolved that issue.

P3110628 by Mike McCrea, on Flickr
 
Here it would be Carolina wrens more often than house wrens, but thanks for that tip. I may need to start storing boats outdoors and we too have wrens who nest anywhere.

As far as watching the birds... We go through a small fortune in seed, suet, meal worms, sugar water, and grape jelly, but have a rich selection of birds to watch in our yard year round. The grape jelly is mostly for the Baltimore orioles that winter here, but a lot of species seem to love it.

We have a lot of raptors that are here year round. I think the ones we enjoy most are the barred owls that nest and raise their young within 150' of our house.

Close by we also have a ton of water species.

We don't need to worry about bears getting to our feeders but we have hundreds of squirrels, raccoons, and possums to contend with.
 
https://flic.kr/p/2kBBGbc https://www.flickr.com/photos/133956285@N05/

This winter, I came across a new-to-me bald eagle nest. I was aware of one up on the ridge on the same property. This one is in a sycamore at the bottom of the slope. I took the picture from halfway up the hill. From the ridge, you can actually look into the nest. I'm looking forward to (carefully) paying another visit in a couple of weeks.

On side note, the Decorah eagles in Iowa have moved to a new location, so the eagle cam will not be very interesting this spring.
 
We don't need to worry about bears getting to our feeders but we have hundreds of squirrels, raccoons, and possums to contend with.

I had a multi-year long battle with said critters emptying my feeders, and sometimes tearing the heck out of them in the process.

Two of the feeders hang from one of those double shepherds crook things, with a squirrel cone just below the feeders. I bought the tallest shepherds crook hanger I could find and guess what – squirrels can jump that high.

I rectified that design failure by taking a wide, 2 foot tall stump and drilling two holes in it for the prongs on the bottom of the pole. The feeders are now almost 8 feet in the air; I’m on tippy toes to hang the feeders, but they are higher than any squirrel has been able to leap (they have tried).

I don’t care if the squirrels eat what falls to the ground. Woodpeckers are incredibly messy eaters, stuff flies everywhere as they fling seed over their shoulder ISO some nut or bit of fruit to fly off with and stuff in a larder.

Back to canoes. . . . .

Here it would be Carolina wrens more often than house wrens, but thanks for that tip. I may need to start storing boats outdoors and we too have wrens who nest anywhere.

Wrens can build a new nest in a day’s time.

I tried a bunch of things to occlude the open nesting areas at the stems, from custom carved foam blocks to old kickballs wedged in place; nothing has worked as well as half-deflated Dollar Store mini-beach balls. I just tie a piece of cord around the nozzle loop, run the cord up through the drain hole and tie it off around a carry handle. I’m still using some that are at least 5 years old.

The first paddling trip to south Florida 40 years ago was an eye opener, and I dang near wore out a field guide. Still need a field guide there, and out west.
 


I had a multi-year long battle with said critters emptying my feeders, and sometimes tearing the heck out of them in the process.

Two of the feeders hang from one of those double shepherds crook things, with a squirrel cone just below the feeders. I bought the tallest shepherds crook hanger I could find and guess what – squirrels can jump that high.

I haven't as much had trouble with them jumping huge distances as getting past the cones/baffles. It seems that it is usually one young trouble maker and then others follow. I found that quickly shooting the one trouble maker has been effective. Firearms are out in my residential neighborhood, but I bought a nice 22 caliber pellet rifle for the purpose. It seem that I only need to use it once a year or so it I catch the single trouble maker right away.

The raccoons and possums seem to just come by once in a while and I just tolerate them. I see them on my trail cam if I have it in the yard.
 
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