In our midst

Despite their fear of humans, some birds choose to rear their young right outside our door

For the past several years, Eastern phoebes have chosen to nest on our porch. This spring, they built their mud, moss, and grass nest on a ledge above the door. Thinking it was not a good place because of all the foot traffic, I removed the nest, only to have it reappear a few days later, so I let it stay. Mama phoebe would find out soon enough what it’s like when three barking dogs come charging out the door to defend us against any real or imagined four-legged invader that might happen to venture into the yard.

Despite all the coming and going, mama sat on her eggs, flying off when the door opened, and returning a few minutes later. I grew more confident that she wasn’t going to bail on the eggs, and soon five sets of eyes could be seen peering over the rim of the nest.

Once the nestlings were big enough to watch the activity below, they seemed mildly entertained, taking it all in as if completely normal. Unfazed by the noise and commotion, even the time a fox ventured into the yard, setting the dogs into complete pandemonium, the phoebes grew and thrived. A few days later, they left the nest to start their new life.

Three days before leaving the nest

While the vast majority of passerines prefer to secrete themselves away from people during the nesting season, others seem to seek out a nesting site close to human activity. Every spring, phoebes, wrens, bluebirds, and other birds that normally shy away from people choose to raise their offspring literally at our doorstep, begging the question: If birds have a basic distrust of humans, why, then, do they take the risk of raising their family where we could easily cause them harm?

My answer came while reading a passage by author and professor emeritus of biology at the University of Vermont Bernd Heinrich in The Nesting Season. Heinrich wrote, “There are almost no Eastern phoebes in the wild nesting on cliffs as they did before human settlement. Phoebes have learned to take advantage of human protectors, and those birds that build their nests in human structures are spectacularly successful.”

What Heinrich was getting at was that some birds sense that their offspring will be safer if located close to human activity, areas their natural predators tend to avoid. Somehow they are able to temporarily overcome their fear of humans, and use their hosts as a sort of insurance policy against the predation of their nests.

What I was witnessing was simply an adaptation of wild critters to help them survive. While the activity going on around the phoebes was no doubt an annoyance, it seemed a simple trade-off: put up with the pesky humans (and their dogs) for a short time in return for a greater chance of survival for their offspring.

For the rest of the year, the phoebes will live out their lives in the woods and fields around us. We will see them winging their way across the meadows and hear their calls, but rarely will they venture as close as they did during the nesting season. But it’s a pretty sure bet that these same birds or their offspring will be our house guests next spring, once again seeking the protection of humans.

Another brood of phoebes leaves the nest

For the fourth year in a row, a pair of Eastern Phoebes nested on our porch and successfully fledged their young. I took this picture of the four nestlings yesterday (only three are visible in this picture), thinking it would be a couple more days before the big event, but they were all gone by the time we got up this morning.

In Virginia, phoebes generally raise two broods per season. Unlike most birds, they frequently return to nest where they were successful in raising their young the previous year.

According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, “the Eastern Phoebe is a loner, rarely coming in contact with other phoebes.” They go on to say even members of a mated pair do not spend much time together; they may roost together early in pair formation, but even during egg laying the female frequently chases the male away from her.” In the case of our pair, however, I did see the male hanging around a lot during the day guarding the nest, and several times bringing food to the nestlings.

It is interesting to me that the phoebes, like bluebirds, wrens, and swallows, seem to give up their fear of humans and nest close to people for the few weeks it takes to raise their young. I see it as a sort of insurance policy to protect their nest. I remember reading somewhere that about a third of all eggs in the wild get eaten by nest robbers before they hatch. So the phoebes are very smart to nest on our porch, where the only predators are black snakes, and the dogs do a pretty good job of keeping them away!

 

 

Update: The Little Guy Fledged!

Well, it happened. I was watering the flowers on the front porch when a bird zoomed out of the phoebe nest and flew into a nearby tree. At first I thought it was the mother phoebe, but when I checked the nest, it was empty! The young phoebe had fledged! I watched him fly from one branch to another, which told me he had no injuries. Mama phoebe was close by, so she will show him the ropes. I didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but I’m happy that the little guy was able to leave the nest and start life on his own. 

Update: A Lucky Survivor!

This morning I thought both baby birds had succumbed to the attack of the black snake last night. The smaller of the two was cold to the touch and obviously dead; the larger one, though still warm to the touch, was unresponsive and I presumed, dying.

You can imagine my surprise when a couple hours later I heard a little chirp. At first I thought I was hearing the birds outside, but when I checked, one of the babies was moving. I could see his eyes were open and as I approached, his beak opened wide – he was hungry!

I couldn’t put the nest back on the ledge for fear the baby would fall out, so I placed it and the little bird in a hanging pot of petunias close to the site of the original nest and waited to see what happened. The distraught parents had been hanging around all morning, not knowing what to do. When the baby heard them calling, he began cheeping and no sooner had I walked away than they flew over. They were both very animated, obviously glad to see that one of their chicks had survived.

Here’s a picture of the little guy in the nest this evening. He’s alert and eating.

I hope he makes it. Only time will tell if he suffered any internal injuries.

The Birds Outside My Window

During the bird nesting season, our porch rafters are quite a popular place. Last spring, I wrote about the Eastern Phoebes that raised five offspring on our front porch (https://woodandfield.wordpress.com/2012/05/23/safe-haven/).

Phoebes three days before leaving the nest

This spring, the pair returned to build their nest of mud, lichens, and moss on the same ledge where they successfully raised their offspring last year. Likewise, a pair of Eastern Bluebirds returned to raise another generation in a birdhouse on the front porch. Adding to the menagerie, House Wrens are nesting on the back porch. I find it amazing that some birds choose to raise their young so close to all our comings and goings, not to mention the noise from the lawn mower and weed whacker, and dogs racing around barking at the deer, fox, and other critters that occasionally wander through.

Male Eastern Bluebird watching over the nest

The list of nest predators is a long one: hawks, owls, crows, blue jays, weasels, fox, squirrels, snakes, and cats. In the wild, the odds are stacked against the young nestlings. So, weighing the scales, it would seem the lesser of the two evils to endure the closeness of humans. In any event, it ended well for all the little ones last year. All of the offspring survived to leave the nest and start out life on their own.

But, alas, the nestlings can’t be protected from every predator. Last night while we were watching TV, we heard a loud “thump” out on the porch. When we investigated, we saw that a black snake had knocked down the phoebe nest and was in the process of eating one of the babies(!) My husband relocated the snake to the woods while I inspected the nest, which was, amazingly, still largely in tact. Two babies were under the nest and were still alive, so I scooped up the nest and babies and took them into the house for the night.

By this morning, the babies had died, probably from internal injuries suffered from the fall. I know it’s a part of Nature, but loss of any life makes me sad. I take hope in knowing that in this season of renewal, perhaps the phoebes will try again. I miss the pair’s constant “phoebe, phoebe” back-and-forth calling as they busily went about their parenting responsibilities.

When I bought my farm, I did not know what a bargain I had in the bluebirds, daffodils and thrushes; as little did I know what sublime mornings and sunsets I was buying. Ralph Waldo Emerson

What Spring Hath Wrought

After an amazingly long winter, spring has finally arrived in central Virginia, with temps soaring into the 80s. My daughter was down from Maryland with my grandson and the first thing we did was go for a walk around the farm. I hadn’t been out for a couple of days and wanted to see what changes the welcome warmer weather had brought.

One of my favorite trees is Eastern Redbud, a native perennial, and I was happy to see this young one by the road blooming. The buds for which the tree gets it name are a deep pink. The lighter pink blooms appear in early spring before other trees have leafed out, allowing them to steal the show. After flowering, reddish-purple, pea-shaped seedpods form. The seedpods will provide food for doves, grouse, wild turkey, quail, and other birds.

The banks along the gravel road we live on are covered with another early bloomer, blood root. Sometimes called bloodwort, the flower gets its name from its root sap that bears a remarkable resemblance to blood. Bloodroot prefers to grow in shady, wooded areas where there is little activity.

An Eastern phoebe kept turning up during our walk. This phoebe and his mate have already built their nest, a cup of mud and moss, in the rafters of our front porch. A pair successfully fledged offspring in the rafters last year, so I suspect it’s the same pair. I can’t tell if this is the male or the female because both of the sexes look alike.

Last fall, we planted a willow tree in a wet area in the front meadow. We had an extremely wet fall and winter, and even though willows love it wet, we feared the tree might not make it. After checking it every day for weeks looking for signs of life, it had sprouted leaves literally overnight.

Walking home, we spotted an area filled with tiny, delicate blue flowers. I haven’t seen this particular wildflower before and I’m hoping someone can identify it.

I hope it’s not going to be one of those years where we go from winter right into hot weather. I love the transitions into the seasons. Typically, this time of year, the evenings are cool and I like to sit outside and listen to the Spring Peepers calling out from the wetland. To me, hearing them sing their froggy mating song is the sound of spring.

When the groundhog casts his shadow
And the small birds sing
And the pussy willows happen
And the sun shines warm
And when the peepers peep
Then it is Spring
~ Margaret Wise Brown

In Search of Spring

Although our winter here in the Blue Ridge has actually been pretty mild, I find myself longing to see green fields and hillsides once again. With only a few weeks of winter remaining, I set out to look for signs that winter is loosening its grip on the land and giving way to the season of renewal. My last walk was several days ago and I was amazed at how much the landscape had changed.

The growing moss pays no heed to the frigid temps of South Buffalo Creek

Another type of moss growing up through the leaves

Immature cones forming on Virginia Pine

Still another kind of moss

The birds are also giving clues that spring is on its way. The Eastern Phoebes can be heard issuing their phoebe, phoebe calls as they check out our porch rafters for the choicest nest sites. I’m also seeing the Eastern Bluebirds once again that had retreated to lower elevations to escape the worst of winter, and a Northern Mockingbird pair is busy chasing intruders out of their favorite tangle of vines.

Although the nights are cold, it’s the breeding season for many animals. Last night, my husband and I were awakened by the shrill cries of a fox in the front yard. The cries, a little higher-pitched than a coyote, went on for about a minute. My first thought was of the chickens, but I knew they were safely locked up in the coop. Possibly, the fox was calling to attract a mate. 

The lengthening of the days is obvious to our hens, who have started laying again, so it’s just a matter of time until winter blows its last gasp. I just need to be patient.

There is a way that Nature speaks, that land speaks. Most of the time we are not patient enough, quiet enough, to pay attention to the story. — Linda Hogan

the phoebes are getting ready for Sandy too!

During the last few days, the temps have been very mild here. I’ve been watching the Eastern phoebes feeding, and I can tell you, they are packing on the pounds! They seem to be concentrating on insects – I guess because once the weather turns cold, insects will be few and far between.

It’s interesting to watch the phoebes patiently sit on a branch like the one below and then suddenly fly out and grab a high-protein morsel mid-air.

I know that birds and other animals can sense changes in the weather, so maybe the phoebes are eating heavily in anticipation of the bad weather headed our way on Monday from Hurricane Sandy. Just like humans rushing out to the store to stock up on food, the phoebes are getting ready for the storm too!