Neighbors

In February I wrote about the Red-shouldered Hawks who set up housekeeping in our Sycamore tree, adding their particular touches to an abandoned squirrel nest. Sadly, in March, after several days of high winds and the nest torn asunder, the hawks abandoned that tree. I didn’t see the hawks for a few days, but eventually found them busily building another nest in a huge, beautiful Red Oak, Quercus rubra, which grows just around the corner from my street. I guess the hawks chose well as that tree is taller and wider, with dense foliage for protection.

I’ve kept an eye on the hawk happenings, observing their new digs and parent hawk behavior. Typically, mom is on the nest, dad is nearby, serving as a protective sentry with his watchful hawk eyes.

I’ve only caught quick glimpses of fuzzy white chick heads, but never when I’m in possession of either my binoculars or my camera.

On this morning, dad was harassed by a vociferous Blue Jay, Cyanocitta cristata, off to his left.

Dad hawk looks rather disdainful of the intrusion; he flew to a different branch a minute later, jay in noisy pursuit.

Mom hawk is in the nest, caring for the wee ones, hunkered down in their solidly built oak-leafy nest.

My SIL has been luckier in getting great shots of the hawk family, including this one of the two chicks, fierce-n-fuzzy they are! Look at those darling, terrifying faces!

I’ve been watching the hawks since late March, but only two weeks ago discovered that across the street, situated in a large Live Oak, Quercus virginiana, a family of Yellow-crested Night Herons, Nyctanassa violacea, have also settled in for their chick-raising. Bird neighbors! I’m guessing these two feathery families don’t share meals or coordinate play dates for the kids! I find it fascinating that these two large predator birds are relatively close together and are raising successful families. That said, while both species hunt, they hunt different prey, so there’s probably not much competition for food, at least between the families.

There’s always one adult heron near the nest, and often I see both adults, perched on opposite branches that book-end the large nest of babies in between. In this photo, one adult faces away from my camera, tail feathers and skinny legs in view. The other adult preens, its yellow crown visible in the morning sun.

The oldest chick (presumably) is on the left, the two younger in the nest, cuddled side-by-side.

Here, one adult preens and the three chicks are being chicks. The one on the right is larger than the other two, a little heron head sits in the middle, and a blob of feathery fluff is barely visible on the left side of the nest.

Adult heron and baby heron, each stare in different directions.

Another stunning shot from my SIL! All beaks and eyes, these little critters rock their dinosaur past.

I expect these characters to fledge in the next week or two. They’ll be spotted on rooftops, residents’ cars, and on lawns, and hopefully not in the street. I also hope they’re too big for the hawks to predate, but I’m not so sure about that.

Puffy clouds act as a visual connection between the hawks’ home tree on the right and the herons’ home tree on the left. The street sits just below, bisecting the two properties.

There are at least four other nesting heron families in this part of our neighborhood and in the larger neighborhood area, a nesting family of Red-tailed Hawks, Buteo jamaicensis, and at least one family of Cooper’s Hawks, Astur cooperii, call this area home. Providing for these predatory birds, as well as for multitudes of song birds, wood peckers, finches, mammals, and countless insects is why trees exist. Large native trees are not only beautiful for people to enjoy, but provide life and protection for wild things.

Plant trees, especially native trees, and prune sparingly. Wildlife will cheer!

Sad addendum: we just experienced a strong thunderstorm with high winds, heavy rain, and hail. I walked over to the street where the nests are and I spoke with the young woman who is the owner of the house with the heron nest. The nest is completely gone, a major branch broke that was above the nest. The young woman said she found one nestling dead; she hasn’t seen the other herons. The hawk nest is undamaged. I didn’t see any chicks, but they aren’t always visible. I looked on the lawn and didn’t see any bodies or live birds. The young woman saw one of the adult hawks drying itself.

Breakfast Buddies?

With rain in the forecast, yesterday morning was a good time to get down and dirty in the garden–both mine and my sister-in-law’s.  Living in a somewhat arid climate, I take advantage of the wet stuff from the sky to dig and plant.  For my garden, it was about clearing out some Barbados cherry, Malpighia glabra, which colonizes with verve, and for my sister-in-law’s garden, it was transplanting those rogue bits of shrub-with-root to a new home:  to grow, be beautiful, and provide cover and fruit for birds, and nectar and pollen for pollinators.

I was out early, not too long after sunup, mulling the day ahead, when I spotted our neighborhood Red-tailed HawkButeo jamaicensis, high up in a winter-bared tree.

The tree sits on a property belonging to the street adjacent to mine;  I don’t know whether it’s a front or back garden tree, but it’s at some distance from my front garden.  For this once, I wish my camera owned just a little more scope moxie.

Still, it’s not a bad shot.

As I aimed my lens at the hawk, a gaggle of Great-tailed Grackles, Quiscalus mexicanus, fluttered onto another set of branches.  Grackles are chatty and gregarious; perhaps they wanted to keep the hawk company on this grey morning?  Or maybe they  wanted to share tips on the best places for breakfast?

My guess?  They wanted to watch her–like a hawk!

I soon got to work:  back and forth from my garden to my SIL’s, I excised the mini-shrubs, checking the roots’ viability, then chucking those which passed the test into the bin.  I dragged that bin to SIL’s garden, where I proceeded to dig and plant, allowing new starts to this valuable native plant.  As I moved from her garden to my own, I noticed that the hawk kept sentry in the tree, sometimes with company, sometimes alone.  She moved a couple of times, but mostly preened and observed, feathers ruffling in the morning breeze, intelligent eyes watchful.

Eventually, a Blue JayCyanocitta cristata, settled in, just below the hawk.  The hawk and the jay hung out.  What do two birds talk about?  Did you sleep okay last night? What did you have for breakfast?  Do you have any friends or relatives I can eat?

After about two hours of my work and the hawk’s perch, she was gone from the tree when I finished.

As far as I am aware, no bird ate breakfast and no bird was breakfast.

Please check out Anna’s at Flutter and Hum for garden–and other–musings.