Northern Pygmy Owl

I was standing at the corner of the main meadow just above the barn. Up to that point, the day had been quiet. So I was happy to see a nice flock of juncos foraging around a favorite poison oak bush of theirs. Mixed in were some ruby-crowned kinglets, and some chickadees and white-breasted nuthatches were rambling through the oak trees nearby. I was trying to take a photo of a ruby-crowned kinglet when suddenly the juncos erupted into strong alarm calls as they retreated to the poison oak bush. The chickadees and nuthatches were incessantly alarming as well. There is a predator around! I watched for about 10 or 15 minutes but didn’t see anything moving. I cut through the edge of the meadow down to the barn and walked down the main path to check in with the nuthatches. That is when I noticed a small bird silhouetted against the pale, winter sky—the Northern Pygmy Owl.

Peterson states that this small owl at 6.75-7 inches tall. For comparison, the American Robin is listed as 10 inches. This owl may be small in stature, but it is a fast, adept hunter.

It perched facing out in the meadow and was scanning in all directions. Suddenly it swooped down across the meadow and landed on a lower branch of another oak tree about 20 yards away. I walked down to hopefully get a better look at it, and I saw that it had caught a small songbird. I couldn’t believe it! I watched it as it flew, and I still missed it catching what appeared to be a junco.

I was able to capture a couple of photos before it flew away. In the second photo, a notable field mark of “eyes” on the back of the head are visible.

As I was watching it from its first perch, I saw it cough up a pellet. I went back after it flew off and luckily found it on the ground.

I was grateful to have a glimpse at this amazing bird, a great bird to start off the year. Have a Happy New Year. I hope that you have a great year of birdwatching. See you out there.

Coyote Hunting

I watched this coyote for a few hours as it wandered around the meadow, hunting for food. Most of the time, it walked as it explored. If it heard the rustling of a rodent, it would turn in that direction and intently listen and watch. Then it would slowly position itself as it honed in on its prey. Finally, when it was ready to strike, it would crouch down, leap into the air and pounce on its prey. I saw it successfully catch and eat four rodents. Coyotes are omnivores and will eat almost anything they can catch. Tom Brown states,” A typical meat diet includes fifty percent rabbit, twenty-five percent small rodents (mostly voles), and twenty-five percent carrion… They also eat birds and a variety of fruit, nuts, and leaves.” I was amazed that birds were not more upset with its presence. Once, it flushed a Bewick’s wren. The wren popped up onto a blackberry cane and intently watched, but surprisingly, it never made an alarm call or any other vocalizations.

Interestingly, Tom Brown writes: “Contrary to popular belief, coyotes are solitary. (The so-called ‘bands’ of coyotes that are sometimes seen are almost always family groups composed of a mother and her young.)”

Coyotes are well camouflaged. Their coats are a broad range of grays, browns, and white. There were moments when I was watching that it seemingly disappeared as it blended in so well with the dead grass.

Coyotes are nocturnal for the most part, so it seemed a little unusual to see this one hunting throughout the morning and into the afternoon. That said, it was one of those gray days when the entire day looked like the dim light before sunset.

Reference
Brown, Tom, and Brandt Morgan. Tom Brown’s Field Guide to Nature Observation and Tracking. Berkley trade pbk. ed, Berkley Books, 1983.

The Cottonwood Star

I recently met the artist Leslie Blanding Perrin. (Check out her magnificent art at the Leafy Lexicon.) In our conversation, she shared with me that the pith in the stem of the Black Cottonwood is star-shaped.

I did a little poking around on the internet to read about pith in tree stems. The biology of plants is fascinating and gets complicated quickly. I recommend doing research to learn and understand it. Basically, the pith is the spongy portion at the center of the branch that functions to transport nutrients and store food. The new pith is usually pale in color and will often darken to a brown color as it ages.

I went out to the arboretum to find a star, and I ran into two stars of the arboretum, Patrick and Conner. We went over to a cottonwood tree nearby to see what we could find. What we found is that the star is pale and not noticeable on young healthy stems. The first star we discovered was on a stem that was distressed from being used as a deer rub in previous years. The pith had turned a rich brown revealing a wonderful star. We also found the pith turning brown in small, fallen branches on the ground where it had started to deteriorate.

Cottonwoods are magical trees that line the banks of the river, and they have a star at the center of their stems to show it.

Golden-crowned Kinglet

The golden-crowned kinglet returns to the arboretum every year to spend the fall and winter months. This beautiful little bird always warms my heart when I catch a glimpse of it on a cold winter’s day.

They are pale olive above and gray below, with a black-and-white striped face. The males have a yellow-orange crown patch which is often concealed. During the breeding season, the male will flare his orange patch when chasing off male intruders in his territory. The females are similar and only have a yellow crown patch.

This is a tiny bird. All About Birds lists its length as 3.1-4.3 in. To help locate this bird, listen for the call notes that males and females give to stay in contact with each other. Peterson describes it as a “high, wiry see-see-see.” Another helpful hint to help find the golden-crowned kinglet is that it travels around in mixed flocks. Out at the arboretum, you will see it palling around with chickadees, nuthatches, bushtits, ruby-crowned kinglets, and brown creepers.

The golden-crowned kinglet mostly eats insects, insect eggs, and spiders. I see it glean insects everywhere on the tree—the bark, leaves, moss, and lichen. It will also hover to capture prey under leaves or hawk for aerial insects.

Under “Cool Facts,” All About Birds has this miraculous bit of information: “The tiny Golden-crowned Kinglet is hardier than it looks, routinely wintering in areas where nighttime temperatures can fall below –40° Fahrenheit.”

Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. Hope to see you out there.

Resources
Golden-Crowned Kinglet Overview, All About Birds, Cornell Lab of Ornithology. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Golden-crowned_Kinglet/overview. Accessed 15 Dec. 2022.

Peterson, Roger Tory, et al. Peterson Field Guide to Birds of Western North America. 4th ed, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2010.

Digging Up Yellow Jacket Nests

Recently, I found a yellow jacket nest from this year that a skunk had dug up. Skunks are primarily insectivores, and they will dig up nests of ground wasps to eat them and, I imagine, their larvae too. I investigated the nest debris outside the hole and inside. I didn’t see any yellow jackets or larvae. The nest cavity was only a few inches underground and roughly the size of a soccer ball. I went to the location of another nest from the summer and found that it had also been shoveled out. At the entrance, I saw what looked like a yellow jacket queen. Surprisingly, she was still alive but not very active.

I wondered when were these dug up. The digs seemed fresh, and some of the paper of the nest had not been soaked through by the rain. I thought the nests had died off for the winter, but I knew the skunk wouldn’t dig in there for nothing. We have had some frosty, cold nights when the temperature dipped into the upper 20’s (degrees Fahrenheit). Were there any yellow jackets or larvae still in the nests?

I decided to get a shovel, find a nest, and dig it up to see what was in there. There were a few nests near the White Oak Pavilion that I hoped the skunk hadn’t found. While getting a shovel, I ran into Patrick at the shop, and he came with me. We were unable to find the first one we looked for in all of the fallen leaves and grass. We went to two more locations, and the nests had been dug up already. We went to a fourth location and saw that it hadn’t been dug up yet. We started scraping away the leaves and fallen grass, looking for it. Patrick found the entrance to the nest because yellow jackets began streaming out to investigate. It was a cool day so they were only circling close the entrance. Nevertheless, we quickly backed away. I couldn’t believe it was still active! It is almost winter, and I thought yellow jacket nests wouldn’t have survived this long. If the weather is mild enough and the location of the nest is in a protected dry area, is it possible that a nest could overwinter here? I’ll be watching this one to see what happens. Will it survive the winter or will the skunk find it?

Burn Pile Aftermath

As you enter the south meadow, there used to be a spot where the arboretum piled debris like tree limbs, dug-up blackberries, etc. Once the pile got to a certain size, and it was the right time of year, they would burn it. The last time I remember them burning anything, it was about 3 or 4 years ago. Sizable burn piles, such as the one that happened here, basically bake the ground because of the intense heat created. Essentially, this kills all of the plants and destroys the soil's ecosystem. The first plants that reestablish the spot are usually nonnative species. In this case, Himalayan blackberry, teasel, and a species of thistle dominate this area.

These areas will start to grow larger. Blackberries can easily create dense thickets and shade out other plants. There are plenty of examples of blackberries creating impenetrable thickets around the arboretum, especially along the river bank. Teasel is a biennial and can quickly spread out of control. In the second photo below, you can see the dense mat being created that will hinder other plants from growing. Parts of the south meadow are already covered with thick stands of teasel.

I’ve seen this phenomenon occur where the forest service has burned huge slash piles in places where they have been thinning the trees. I don’t know if they still use this practice.

These areas require a considerable amount of effort to restore, so it is best to avoid creating them.

Note
Sorry I haven’t posted more lately. I’ve been a little under the weather.

Brown Creeper - Review

The brown creeper is a gentle little bird with a cheerful spirit.

It likes to "creep" and circle up the tree trunk and onto the limbs as it searches for food. Once it climbs up into the middle or top part of the tree, it will fly back down near the base of the same tree, one nearby, or onto a lower limb.

It has a slender, slightly curved bill that allows it to probe into bark crevices, thick carpets of moss, and under lichen. It has stiff tail feathers to brace itself as it forages, similar to woodpeckers. Its diet mainly includes insects, insect larvae, spiders, and spider eggs.

The brown creeper has exceptional camouflage. The top half of its body has a beautiful, mottled pattern that resembles dappled sunlight. The Kaufman Field Guide to Birds of North America says the brown creeper is "like a piece of bark come alive." Its underside is white and relatively concealed, mainly because it hugs close to the tree as it explores.

To help locate this tiny bird, listen for its call and song. The male and female will give call notes to check in with each other. Peterson describes it as "a single high, thin seee, similar to quick three-note call [see-see-see] of Golden-crowned kinglet." They have a cheerful song that Peterson interprets as "a high, thin, sibilant see-ti-wee-tu-wee or trees, trees trees, see the trees." I have also heard fellow bird watchers aptly characterize it as "trees, trees, trees, beautiful trees." To listen, click here (All About Birds by the Cornell Lab).

They usually build a nest between the tree's trunk and a piece of peeling bark of a dead or dying tree. The frame of the nest is a layer of twigs and strips of bark. The nest cup consists of materials like finer plant fibers, feathers, and hair. Insect cocoons and spider egg cases hold the nest together and anchor it to the tree.

Brown creepers are a year-round resident at the arboretum. They can be a little easier to find now that the deciduous trees have mostly lost their leaves, opening up the tree canopy. Small songbirds like to create mixed flocks during the winter, so look for brown creepers hanging out with chickadees, bushtits, and nuthatches.

Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. Hope to see you out there.

Resources
Brown Creeper Life History, All About Birds, Cornell Lab of Ornithology. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Brown_Creeper/lifehistory. Accessed 28 Nov. 2022.

Brown Creeper Sounds, All About Birds, Cornell Lab of Ornithology. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Brown_Creeper/sounds. Accessed 28 Nov. 2022.

Kaufman, Kenn, et al. Kaufman Field Guide to Birds of North America. Houghton Mifflin, 2005.

Peterson, Roger Tory, et al. Peterson Field Guide to Birds of Western North America. 4th ed, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2010.

Frozen Fluidity

The weather this whole last week was clear and cold. A thin sheet of ice started forming at the river’s edge. It captured the flow of the river as it grew out—curving bands reminiscent of tree rings. Also, the ice interestingly was slightly elevated above the water. I could see a shadow being cast on the rock. In the second, up-close photo below, the ice looked etched with lines, fracturing the flowing curves. The ice in the third photo below looked fuzzy around the rock. It was as if some electrical current emanating from its edge was frozen. It felt stormy, and I soon realized two were headed my way. A couple of kids arrived on the scene with a different interest and fascination rather than form and texture. They loved the way it broke. They were delighted by the crunch and crackle sounds that were made as they smashed it with stomping boots.

Robin's Coloration

I have often heard the coloration of the robin’s breast described as red. In Peterson’s field guide he describes it as a “brick red.” It is not red like the flaming red crest of a pileated woodpecker, for example. The robin’s breast is more orange, which as we know, is a color we can create by mixing red and yellow pigments together. So, on the color wheel, the robin’s red breast is more in the secondary color yellow-red (orange) range not the pure primary red.

In this photo you can see that the robin’s breast matches and blends in well with the warm oranges and browns of the fall leaves.

Honestly, I’m okay with calling it red. It’s easier to write catchy songs like “When the Red, Red Robin Comes Bob, Bob, Bobbin' Along.” I need a little spring in my step as I walk around in the chilly days of the coming winter.

Natural Talent

Again, I found myself watching a Bewick’s wren hop, tumble and leap between the branches. Suddenly it popped out onto this twig and posed as if it was the completion of its acrobatic routine. It stuck the landing! With the dappled afternoon sunlight in the background, I quickly snapped a photo and silently cheered its wonderful performance.

Blend in with Nature

I aspire to be the bird in the photo. Flitting through the understory, staying close to the earth. Exploring all of the sensations—the leafy, green fern fronds, the soft, spongy moss, the humid scent of the soil, and the sounds of insects rummaging through fallen leaves. Peering out through windows in the vegetation as I merrily skip in and out of view, in constant awe of what new wonders could be awaiting me.

“Few people have the imagination for reality.”
—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Bewick's Wren

Meet the Bewick’s wren. It is a year-round resident that feels right at home in the thickets and shrubby areas in the open country of the oak savanna landscape of Mt. Pisgah arboretum.

It has a brown back and wings, and its underside is gray and white. A distinguishing feature is its bold, white eyebrow stripe. Its tail is long, black-barred, tipped with white spots, and is often cocked upwards. Its bill is fairly long, pointy, and slightly downcurved.

It is a spirited, acrobatic bird. It tumbles, hops, and bounds its way through the landscape as it forages for food. It effortlessly flits from limb to limb in the underbrush, clings to the sides of trees, and hangs upside down as it explores. Most of its diet is “the eggs, larvae, pupae, and adults of insects and other small invertebrates (All About Birds).”

Its lively character also comes through in its song, which I can hear from a fair distance. Here is Peterson’s description of its voice: “Song suggests Song Sparrow’s, but thinner starting on two or three high notes, dropping lower, ending on a thin trill; calls a sharp vit, vit and buzzy dzzzzzt.” Click here to go to All About Birds to listen.

This is a great bird to get to know. If you walk slowly and quietly, it is quite tolerant of your presence. Also, it is easy to observe because It usually forages less than 10 feet off the ground. So you don’t get a kink in your neck scanning up in the tree canopy for it.

Nature is an inexhaustible source of wonder. Hope to see you out there.

References
Bewick’s Wren Life History, All About Birds, Cornell Lab of Ornithology. https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Bewicks_Wren/lifehistory. Accessed 9 Nov. 2022.

Ehrlich, Paul R., et al. The Birder’s Handbook: A Field Guide to the Natural History of North American Birds: Including All Species That Regularly Breed North of Mexico. Simon & Schuster, 1988.

Peterson, Roger Tory, et al. Peterson Field Guide to Birds of Western North America. 4th ed, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2010.

Steller's Jay & California Bay Laurel

Last weekend I heard the familiar sound of Steller’s Jays squawking, and I went over to have a look. I saw them hopping on the ground and through the limbs of the bay tree out by the barn. Not long after I arrived on the scene, one flew off with one of the green fruits of the tree. It flew down to the ground, buried the fruit, and quickly returned for another one. Another jay had found one on the ground and had managed to extract the seed from inside. It was on a lower limb breaking off bits and eating them. They were mostly gathering the fruit and flying away to cache them. There are quite a few trees that have sprouted up nearby from ones that weren’t retrieved. Steller’s Jays stash many seeds throughout the year and it seems highly possible that they would forget where they buried some of them. Also, if the jay should die sometime during the winter, the unrecovered, buried seeds could sprout thus dispersing the plant.

Seeds

Walking along the incense cedar trail there are thousands of cones and seeds scattered on the path. As I walk underneath an incense cedar, there is a carpet of woody cones like fresh mulch has been applied. The cone has a rich reddish-brown color. Its shape splits open into 3 segments freeing the seeds inside that have a light-colored wing attached.

As I knelt down to pick up one of the seed pods, I thought about the incredible volume of seeds that are produced throughout the arboretum. I realized that I am constantly seeing birds eating seeds. Today I watched a flock of juncos eating seeds on the ground out at the barn. Goldfinches were foraging on or near the ground out in the south meadow. I am sure they were finding seeds from plants such as grass, tarweed, and thistle that grew out there over the summer. Seeds are a huge part of the food chain for animals such as birds, mice, voles, squirrels, chipmunks, and many insects.

Seeds are usually small and easily disappear when they fall to the ground. So, they can quickly fall out of awareness. That said, I feel like I am reminded of their presence every morning when I put on my tennis shoes. Walking through the meadow over the summer, my shoes collected seeds that seem permanently imbedded in the fabric. Truly an amazing part of the life cycle of plants.

Leaf Gall Smorgasbord

Chickadees have an intimate knowledge of the trees. They never stop investigating every nook and cranny of a tree. They will explore the very top of the tree and everything in between to the base. I will even see them on the ground around it.

The other day I was watching a flock of them eating heaps of these leaf galls. Every single leaf that I could see on this oak tree had galls on the underside. Within a matter of seconds, a chickadee would pluck one, hold it with its feet, open it, and eat the small larva inside. I can’t even imagine how many insects one chickadee consumes in a day.

August Jackson at the arboretum just put together a small brochure of Mount Pisgah oak gall wasps. It is at the kiosk just before you walk across the bridge into the White Oak Pavilion. It has great photos. Check it out.

Great Horned Owl

The wind is gently sweeping across the hillside. It swirls around sturdy trunks of trees in a murmur. Its current is slow and soft as it flows through carpets of mossy limbs. Leaves lightly brush together. Shrouded in a cloak of quietness, the Great Horned Owl listens to the song of the forest.

The last rays of sunlight are slanting through the evening sky. Dragonflies are darting back and forth over the meadow. Leaves whirl and spin as they fall from the trees. The shadows are deepening as the night awakens. Shrouded in a cloak of stillness, the Great Horned Owl watches the day come to a close.

The rain has awoken the moss from its summer slumber forming cool, spongy beds. The shady woods are damp. The air feels refreshing to breathe. Afternoon sun breaks are a pleasant warmth on the body. Shrouded in a cloak of awareness, the Great Horned Owl absorbs the sensations of the changing seasons.

The hours of daylight are waning as we revolve into the starlight, beckoning a time of reflection. May we hold the essence of the Great Horned Owl within our spirit as winter approaches—watching, listening, and feeling nature to its fullest.

Paper Sediment

If asked to imagine a bald-faced hornet, most people would probably think of its bold black-and-white markings and have feelings of unease and wariness. If you get near their nest and they feel threatened, they will fiercely protect their home by administering a painful sting that definitely leaves a mark on your memory.

On the flip side, there is more to a bald-faced hornet than its ferocity. They are masters at crafting beautiful, sturdy homes made out of paper. An up-close look at their pendant nests reveals magical striations of chewed wood fibers. It is amazing to see all of the strands pasted together to form a fibrous mat.

So next time you see a bald-faced hornet, may you have reverence for its skill in building a home and a healthy respect for its ability to protect it.

Black-and-yellow Argiope Spider Egg Sac

I went to check on one of my spider friends to see how she was doing. She has a home close to the ground in a cluster of thistles out in the meadow. When arrived at her doorstep, I found the web collapsed, and she had disappeared. As I surveyed the area to see if she had built a new web nearby, I noticed a brown, papery egg sac suspended by silk filaments zigzagging in all directions.

After the female mates, she creates 1 to 4 of these sacs which contain 300-1400 eggs. I found another one close by hidden within vegetation about 3 inches from the ground. Interestingly, the eggs hatch in the fall, and the baby spiders will overwinter inside and emerge in the spring. The sac must be tough and well-insulated to protect them all winter, exposed to the weather out in the meadow.

I think this egg sac is so fascinating and beautiful in the way it is attached and supported. I find it interesting that she can create this tough, papery cover. From what I could find searching around on the internet, this egg case is made of silk. I am guessing is somehow made differently from the silk used to make her web, because it seems so structurally different. I want to find out more about this, and when I do, I’ll pass it along.

Resource
Hammond, George. “Argiope Aurantia.” Animal Diversity Web, https://animaldiversity.org/accounts/Argiope_aurantia/. Accessed 17 Oct. 2022.

Northern Pygmy-Owl

The other evening as I was walking back to my truck I came across some chickadees and nuthatches in an oak tree. They were flitting around through the tree and their behavior and vocalizations caught my attention. They seemed nervous as they moved about the tree and they were calling to each other frequently. I watched them for about 10 minutes as I slowly moved closer to the tree. A hummingbird suddenly appeared and zoomed over to the lower part of the tree canopy. It hovered and moved back and forth as if investigating something. It then lit on a small branch nearby. I then noticed a small silhouette on a limb. I moved to better view the area and brought out my binoculars. Focusing in, I discovered a Northern Pygmy-Owl was the source of the commotion. A moment later with a burst of energy, it flew up the hillside into another oak tree. Wanting to get a photo, I followed. It took me about half an hour to locate it with the help of the hummingbird again.

This little owl can be observed out during the day. Interestingly, All About Birds by Cornell had this to say: “Most owls have asymmetrically placed ears as well as flattened facial discs around the eyes. Both of these features are adaptations that give them better hearing. Interestingly, Northern Pygmy-Owls lack these features, and this may be an outcome of their diurnal habits and greater reliance on vision.”

In my opinion, these owls are pretty fierce hunters of small birds. They are fast and fly in a similar pattern to woodpeckers—an undulating pattern of rapid wing beats interrupted by closed-wing glides. I saw one a couple of summers ago hunting around the meadow next to the White Oak Pavilion. It seemed to easily catch a couple of songbirds. I remember counting 30 birds surrounding it as it perched on a limb eating. Check out the varied diet listed on All About Birds: “Northern Pygmy-Owls mostly eat small birds, such as hummingbirds, chickadees, warblers, and sparrows, as well as small mammals, including shrews, moles, and chipmunks. However, they occasionally attack prey much larger than themselves, such as Northern Bobwhite and California Quail. They also eat insects such as beetles, butterflies, crickets, and dragonflies, as well as reptiles such as lizards and skinks.”

Note
I haven’t been able to get out as much these days. Due to the smoke from the nearby forest fire, the poor air quality has had me reluctantly sticking to home when not at work. Hopefully, the rain will come to our aid soon.

Leaf Landscape

As I look at a leaf with its veins fanning out across its undersurface, I feel like I’m flying over a landscape. The cool, green chlorophyll along the main ridge lines fades into valleys parched with warm yellows and browns. The leaves on the deciduous trees, such as this Oregon ash, are transforming.

They have fulfilled their role. They created food and energy for the tree and shade for animals to keep cool in the summer. They provided forage for hungry insects and made music as the wind blew across their bodies.

Now their function is shifting as they fall. They form a cozy blanket on the ground to protect the tree’s root system and provide an insulative home for insects that overwinter in the soil. Many animals forage under this protective layer as it decays, recycling nutrients back into the soil.

I love this metamorphosis. They curl and twist in unique and interesting shapes. Their music becomes rustling and crisp. They release a magical apothecary of aromas, a sigh of gratitude upon the arrival of the first rains of fall.