Showing posts with label My Backyard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Backyard. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Yard Birds October 21st

Yesterday morning, my husband called to me from his home office asking if I ordered a "shepherd's hook" from Amazon. Of course I had. It's a tall metal pole for holding a bird feeder. 

He just got a text that it had been delivered!

Huh...I thought I had ordered it through my own account (I had, in fact, but the Internet knows all), but how nice of them to let me know. I went to the front door in anticipation of setting it up in my yard right away, only to find no package at all had been delivered. Not again, I thought. We have the misfortune of living on a street with the same first two letters as the street parallel and a block north of us. Packages are frequently misdelivered.

Maybe it's due to the horrors of students who were taught to read using sight words instead of phonics.  Or maybe it's just a momentary lapse on the part of the letter carrier. Or maybe she just doesn't care anymore. My package was not delivered to my home, nor to my northern neighbor.  As evening approached, I searched the USPS customer service page, but it was no use.  My package was declared "delivered" and I was out of luck.

As I was about to type a note of complaint, the doorbell rang, and there stood a man with a tall cardboard box. He lives 5 blocks away on a street with an altogether different set of letters making up the word, but the same house number. It was super-nice of him to do the gov't's job!  

I set up the shepherd's hook just beyond the dog's reach and made an old planter saucer into a hanging dish-feeder. I filled it with wild bird seed. For some reason, wild bird seed comes with candied papayas. The ants love candied papayas, and climbed 5 feet up and one foot down the hook to enjoy the sweet treat. I look forward to woodpeckers eating the ants.

No feeder visitors came by last night.  Not one.

This morning, ever hopeful, I poured my coffee and sat outside with my camera. There were birds everywhere, thanks to my neighbor's dying cherry tree. He took down a blue spruce in perfect shape, removing the breeding spot for several generations of crows. He took down a row of arborvitae I-know-not-why. He has threatened to take down a smaller tree behind the garage.  But this leviathan cherry, with dead branches and hollow trunk, just waves violently in the lightest breeze waiting for the gust that tears the branches off, and for gravity to do her worst, right over my yard. But I can't really complain, since the tree provides constant shelter for my friends the birds.

Today, I saw a towhee in my yard (technically, in his tree which extends over my yard) for the first time!  As you can see, I got a photo for ID, but it's not beautiful.


Towhee.


And a pair of unidentified birds played way up in the branches, refusing to turn for proper identification. Any guesses?
Unidentified birds in classic Audubon pose.




A house finch stood out red against the blue sky.  He was having a great day!

House finch.

He likes the high branches, where the wind whips his feathers.


A medium sized hawk--possible red-shoulder from the looks and cry--swooped onto the branch, but my little friend spied him early and fled. A bit later the hawk swirled away, to the south.  Sorry, no photo. He's one that got away.

But some other interesting birds were visiting. I looked at a bird in the hedge, and saw a pine siskin! It's the first I have seen in the yard. It had not come for the seeds I put out, but for the tiny conifer seeds in the hedge. I took a few photos. Imagine my surprise when I opened the photo in Picasa and saw that there were 6 birds in the photo! Can you see them all? Did I miss any?

So many siskins.



The birds are pretty well camouflaged, but Amigo, the cat next door, is not. His white fur shines brightly in the morning sun.

Amigo.



Whiskers, the cat next door on the other side, is a bit harder to see in the shadows.

Whiskers.



Both would like to nab a bird, but the birds are well guarded by Circe. Not that Circe has not nabbed a bird in her day, but she'd rather have cat.

"Mmmm.  Kitty-kitty," says Circe.


Finally, a visitor landed on the new feeder.  This song sparrow is brave and patient, and not afraid of Circe at all.

Song sparrow.



Still looking up in case the hawk came back, I saw a flock (well, three) of something go over.  A closer look through binoculars showed them to be greater cormorants. That was nifty.


Cormorants.

And though it was only 65 degrees out, a few honeybees were sucking the last of the autumn nectar. Despite the cold, they were faster than my camera, and I only got a good shot of a foot and wingtip as it explored the morning glory.

Morning glory food for bee.
Meanwhile, the rubbish men came by, some workmen tore out part of our sidewalk, old Greta-two-doors-down yelled at her daughter-in-law in Deutschlish, someone rang our doorbell, sprinkler men came to fix the neighbor's sprinklers, landscapers mowed, leaf blowers moved the leaves around, the fire siren went off, and, in the distance, a chainsaw made short work of a tree. I had coffee and birds, and was almost oblivious.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Funnels are Tunnels

For those who have not seen enough spider-web shots, here are a few more.  Ah, but who could tire of them, really?
Funnel in the sun--empty and elegant.
A closer look.
A more tangled web...

And an uninviting scene, with scraps from a last meal at the door, and an abdomen sticking out of the funnel.






Thursday, September 12, 2013

The Way In

I'm currently reading Waiting for Aphrodite by Sue Hubbell, which details the life histories of some invertebrates, but not always the ones I was expecting--the author lives in coastal Maine, but few of her chosen inverts are marine. It's quite an enjoyable tour of the phyla, though Hubbell can't resist the cliched digressive passage about evolution, where she recounts verbally thrashing an open-minded teen (!) who is (or was...) interested in the many facets of the evolution discussion.  But the experienced reader of natural history can take or leave those few paragraphs, and still enjoy the excellent narrative provided by an author who enjoys observing the organisms around her.
Orb-weaver--primitive, but pretty!

 After photographing a lovely orb-weaver the other night, and shunning the ragged work of the funnel-weavers, which resemble little more than cob-webs in a corner, I read the bit about spiders in Hubbell's book, and was intrigued by the notion that orb-weavers, despite the beauty and order of their webs, are actually (or, rather, theoretically) the more primitive arachnids of the two groups. So I went hunting for the funnel-weavers in my brush pile, and tried to see the beauty in their messy webs.  Getting a closer look, it seems, is the key. They may not be as beautiful, but it seems to me that they are very efficient and strong--a good plan for a predator that lives by trapping prey in a net.

 Here are some photos of the many funnel webs in my brush pile. (Do you have a brush pile?  It's a great way to attract wildlife!)

Collects more rainwater than an orb...


Is more densely built...
Is attached to everything nearby...
It's more like a sheet than a web, and even catches dusty droppings from a wood-boring beetle.

Hello funnel-weaver! (Agelanopsis) Look carefully to the left and see the funnel it has begun to weave.



Welcome to my parlor...

Can't get enough spiders?  Check out some books and field guides.

Friday, September 6, 2013

Pests and Pollinators


Welcome to the garden!  It's 61 degrees, and the mosquitoes have given up trying this morning.  But for those insects who like the brisk weather, the Jerusalem artichokes have bloomed, and are waiting.  Native plants attract native pollinators?  Maybe.  Let's take a closer look.


The humble native Jerusalem artichoke, not an artichoke at all, but a tasty tuber with a tall, yellow flower, is inviting visitors by pretending to be one large bloom.  Click on the photo to admire the multitude of tiny true flowers awaiting visitors.


What is this?  A bee?  No!  It's the transverse flower fly, Eristalis transversa, collecting pollen. 


A fruit fly has landed nearby for perspective.  


A closer look.



Bumble.


Bumble bees are a common visitor to the Jerusalem artichokes.

Crickets?  I guess so.


A smaller pollinator--a hoverfly?
 I actually got a photo of it hovering, but it was too blurry to use to identify the creature.


Another shot.

Rhagoletis completa?  The walnut husk fly.  Probably taking a break from the walnuts on the other side of the yard. That would make it a European invader.  Pretty pest.
I'm reading Waiting for Aphrodite right now, and the author has some interesting things to say about native pollinators.

For the younger crowd, try these:

The Bee Tree
The Life and Times of the Honeybee

And a family project:  Attracting Native Pollinators
Or why not install a mason bee lodge?

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Water the Birds

Silly robins. They love my yard in winter, and now I understand why. I left the outside faucet dripping, and fresh water is as important as food when it comes to attracting birds, especially when the weather is freezing.
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Sunday, August 28, 2011

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Outside the Window

A balanced diet.

Thanks to T for calling me to the window. We saw the baby first, blending in, perfectly still. Then the parent came by with a bright red berry. Yum.
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Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Weedwhacker of the Apocalypse

(or, How MacBeth Spent Her Afternoon)

I went to whack the weeds, I went
With weedwhacker in hand,
I planned to whack down all the weeds
Across my patch of land.
But when I saw the violets,
so green and lush and full,
I pulled the weeds around them out
But these I could not cull.


I docked the dock, took pokeweed down
and trimmed the side and drive.
I stopped and spied the work of mice,
And wasps (a paper hive!).
The mice had eaten cherry stones
And left them on the slate;
The wasps were eating clothespin wood--
My clothesline was their plate.

The dandelions lost their heads;
I let daylillies grow.
I also let a flower stay
(It's name I do not know).
I trimmed around the tree until
Tart sorrel's yellow bloom
Defeated me; I had to stop
And grab the dusty broom.

 (Click on photos for a closer look.  Copyright 2011.)