Tag Archives: Birds

No ghosts, few birds, but lots of people

Birds, ,

We spent the weekend camping at Point Lookout State Park in St. Mary’s County Maryland. The area is quite pretty and has an interesting, if somewhat depressing, history. Just after the battle of Gettysburg, the area was made into a POW camp for confederate soldiers. For some reason the men were pretty much left on their own, with little resources including food, water and shelter. Over 3000 died within 15 months. Because of this morbid history, many ghost stories have been circulated about this park. We saw no ghosts, however. Thank goodness!

Because this park is on a peninsula, it is a good resting place for migrant birds, and August is supposed to be the beginning of fall migration. I saw no evidence of that, however, but I didn’t really do much birding. I heard a few goldfinch flying overhead, but I don’t think they migrate. I did, however, see many ospreys. At one point I counted 7 between two trees and the sky. There was a time in my life when this would have been highly unusual, but now the osprey population has recovered around here.

We’ve gone camping with our friends and their children a number of times. They have a son Andrew’s age and a daughter Clare’s age and the boys are good friends as are the girls. However when you get them all together there is lots of whining, arguing, shrieking and talk that makes me cringe.

This trip was no different — the boys made fun of the girls and the girls complained to their parents. Sometimes the complaining and arguing drowned out the Hip Hop and Salsa music from neighboring campsites.

We were not alone in the park. Several sites were being used by a group that was using a generator to power all of their sites.  Two other sites held nine tents between them — a differnent group.

I’m not complaining — it was nice to get away, the weather was great and I enjoy the company of our friends. Next time, however, I think we should go to Cape May. And stay in a Bed & Breakfast. And leave the kids at home.

Back to birding – maybe

Birds,

I need to get back to birding. I mean really birding. Not just the incidental kind of birding I’ve been doing for nearly two decades.

I’ve not been on many real bird walks with real birders — once I went to Huntley Meadows with a bird group and that was educational. I’m over my reluctance to be around people who can identify birds faster than I can (I used to not allow myself to add a bird to my lists if I didn’t ID it myself). I think that being in the company of other birders would be good for me in a couple of ways. I’d certainly learn a lot more about birds than by learning on my own. Being in the company of like-minded people is always a good thing.

I’ve subscribed to a few birding weblogs and the adventures that people are having make me want to be out having adventures too, instead of reading about other people’s adventures.

I think I’ll look into joining a local birding group. I think Montgomery County has one.

Parenthood

Birds

For the past several springs, we’ve had house sparrows nesting in our terracotta nest box that is attached to an outside wall of our screened porch. While I’m not a huge fan of house sparrows, any nesting activity is fun to follow. This year, however, the nest box was taken over by house wrens. For a while there was quite the turf war going on between a pair of house sparrows and the house wrens. The wrens built a nest, but the sparrows insisted on entering the next box with out permission, causing the wrens to make all sorts of noise and attack the intruder. It was apparent later that the female wren was on the nest, because when the sparrow tried to enter, it immediately flew away — and often the male wren would chase it even further away.

This morning I realized that the eggs must have hatched because both wrens were busy flying in and out of the next box carrying various tasty bugs. It was entertaining to watch them take turns bringing the food to their young. One would sit the back of a chair that is just below the nest box. It would burst into a trilling song, often with difficulty because its mouth was full of bug. Its mate would then fly away from the nest and the singing wren would fly to the nest. Soon the mate would return with a mouthful of insect and sing, to let its mate know it was there, with food. This went on during my two cups of morning coffee and I suspect it is still going on, because I keep hearing the trill of the wren. I wonder when they sleep!

Our neighbors have a bird house in a small tree, just over the fence from us. I remember watching them put it up and doubting they’d get any birds in it. I was mistaken. They have a pair of Carolina chickadees, and judging from the sounds coming from the bird house, the chickadees have a few offspring to feed. I noticed that one of the chickadees (perhaps both — they look alike to me) was flying up to my office window, where I have a feeder full of sunflower hearts. Just now I’ve seen a very disheveled chickadee come and go from the sunflower feeder several times. Definitely a new parent. I remember that look.

I’m pretty sure a pair of Carolina wrens are nesting somewhere nearby, because I’ve heard one singing its “Judy Judy Judy Judy Judy” song so loud it woke me up the other morning.

A pair of Northern cardinals built a nest in a thorn bush outside our kitchen window earlier this spring, but abandoned it soon after. I think they were concerned about all the people coming and going along the path between the house and the bush. Its a shame, because it was a pretty smart location otherwise.

Of course, there are the American robins whose nests I never see until well into the summer, but whose blue eggs I usually find either intact (probably dropped by a predator) or broken and empty (probably dropped by a one of the robins, protecting the nest from predators).

The other day my son and I saw a frantic tufted titmouse at the empty bird feeder outside the window on the other side of the office. I’d not filled it because it was making a mess on the ground below, but clearly one of the birds who’d been visiting that feeder expected it to be filled. He sat on the top of the feeder and squeaked, shaking his wings like a fledgling. He then jumped onto the screen and squeaked even louder. If I didn’t know that birds don’t see in front of them, I would have thought he was looking right at me, demanding dinner. So, I wonder if it was a parent who’d temporarily been driven insane by the rigors of parenthood. I remember that too!

Soon I expect to see fledglings of many of these birds flapping their wings and making their demands for food and attention clear to all within earshot.

Ahh, the joys of parenthood.