Hoot-n-Annie

I’ve long thought that naming wildlife an unwise practice.  When I first installed a water fountain at my back patio, we purchased three “feeder” goldfish which the kids and I named.  The fish didn’t last long, as one of our dogs decided that sushi was something he enjoyed.  Once our pond was built and we had even more fish we could name–at first, koi, and later, some goldfish and gobs of gambusia (mosquito fish), I’ve steadfastly refused to name even one of the swimmers.  Herons, plain bad luck, as well as old age, all end the fish and I don’t want to lament their loss by name.

The same is true for my regular bird visitors.  I’m fond of the pairs of Carolina Chickadees and Wrens, and Black-crested Titmice, and many others, who I see in my garden.  I’m charmed when they bring their babies to visit and feed in late spring and summer, enjoying the this is how you survive lessons imparted by the excellent parents to their eager and darling offspring.  But I dare not name any one of them.  Ditto for the wintering warblers who daily flit in the garden from November through May.  I already miss them when they leave to wing northward for summer;  how much more would I regret their flying the garden nest if I called them Joe or Rufus or Abigail?

So why name the Eastern Screech-Owl couple who, it appears, are (perhaps?) in the process of choosing to raise a family in my garden?

In a word: weakness.  And, maybe a second word: affirmation.

Meet Hoot and Annie.  Hoot-n-Annie.

The male, Hoot, guarding the nest box.  He wasn’t interested in showing me his pretty face, but I can share his beautiful wing plumage pattern with you.

Annie, trying the nest box on for size. She was tolerant at my photo taking, but I didn’t bother her much–just enough to get this shot.

Here’s a look from our owl cam. What you’re looking at are her tail feathers–her head is looking out the hole.

There are several problems with the conferring of these names, the stupidity of  perceived control, notwithstanding.   Firstly, Eastern Screech owls don’t hoot, they trill (in varying forms), and they also make bill claps and low chuckling sounds.  Check out this link to Cornell Lab’s Eastern Screech-Owl sounds to understand what we’ve been hearing for a few weeks now and why “Hoot” is a goofy–and erroneous–name.  Secondly, the life of Screech-Owls is fraught with danger.  Of course, that’s true of all wildlife, thus the wisdom of not naming the wild critters in my garden.  We can provide the right habitat, both day and night, but we have little influence over their destiny.  Cars, bigger owls (there’s a Great Horned Owl pair in our neighborhood), and maybe, rat poison, are all hazards to Screech-Owls.  Also, Screech-Owls are risks to the smaller birds, toads, and insects in and near my garden.

And so it goes with the wildlife food web.

But I have hope and a sense of reassurance with this particular canoodling pair of owls.  It’s been a couple of years since we’ve enjoyed the privilege of intimately observing the shy, elusive night birds–more about that at another time. The previous owl pairs were always Mama Owl and Daddy Owl, and except for the last clutch of Screech-Owl fledglings, I never named the babies.  But the dearth of owl watching and learning in the last two years renders me sentimental about their recent presence in the garden. The strong bond between adults, their focused and shared care of chicks, and their important contribution to diversity of the wild community (of which my garden is a small part) is heartwarming and affirming.  Appreciation of the natural order continues, as (selfishly) does my own education and enjoyment.

If the Screechies move in and raise their family, a kind of avian hootenanny in celebration of life’s dance of diversity and songs of progress will be in place, at least for a specific time and type.

I’m glad to join in today with Anna’s Flutter and Hum and her wonderful Wednesday Vignette.  Please pop over for garden, nature, and other musings.

 

Woo-Hoo!

Or is it hoo-hoo?  Or maybe trilllll and whinny in the early morning hours?

No, it’s relief on my part, so it’s a big yay! 

An Eastern Screech-OwlMegascops asio, snoozes in the box early this morning.

This owl watching season has been an odd one, with this enigmatic bird more than discreet than usual.  I’ve only heard screech song three times this winter, and until this morning, hadn’t a single glimpse of the shy little raptors.   But here she is!  Is she exhibiting her nesting behaviors, perhaps?  I certainly hope so!

Update:  the nest box camera position didn’t capture any part of her owl body as she was hanging out this morning and she didn’t snuggle in for her daytime rest until I published, but here she is, boxed in for the day.

Sometimes They Land in Trees: Wildlife Wednesday, January 2018

Happy 2018 and welcome  to the first Wildlife Wednesday celebration of this new year.  Winter arrived in Austin in the last several days with an ice-numbing grip of below freezing temperatures.

I heard that snort and saw those eyes a’rolling!  I understand that compared to much of continental North America, my goose-bump inspired whining won’t win much sympathy, but darn it, it’s cold!  Truthfully, I’m just fine-n-dandy with the hard freeze, in great hopes that every mosquito in Texas is dead, dead, dead (not likely, though).  Also, with the frigid temps, my autumnally hued and interminably foliaged trees have finally let loose their leaves.

In the last couple of days, Red oak leaves blanketed the entirety of my back garden.

Maybe now I’ll be better able to observe the variety of birds who visit my garden, as the winter avian Texans (especially the tiny ones) prefer to flit among the bare limbs, in search of whatever they search for.  With the leaves as camouflage, that’s been hard to do.

This shot was taken on Sunday, just before the temperatures plummeted and the tree dumped most (but not all!) its leaves.

That said, for most of this past month, critter watching has mostly involved the birds at the feeders, with the random pitter-patting of maddening mammals and the skulking about of bothersome marsupials.

I’m tickled at the early appearance of two examples of the stunning American GoldfinchSpinus tristis.  American Goldfinches usually show up later in winter, so it’s a treat to see them now.

This handsome fella is wearing his non-breeding colors.

Do you need something?

Pretty boy!

In addition to that obvious and gorgeous adult male, is this female or juvenile male.

The coloring–both dark and light–are muted in this bird.

Wonderful wing bars!

Sweet face!

American Goldfinches belong to the same Family and Order as the House Finch, and House Finch eye disease, Mycoplasmal conjunctivitis, which I wrote about here, also affects American Goldfinch populations.  Fortunately, the two Americans who noshed at my feeder appeared free of the disease, the good news of which I reported on Project FeederWatch.  I still see a female House Finch with one infected eye which is completely closed due to the infection.  She feeds by searching for seeds on the ground, but she struggles to land when she flies and is vulnerable to predators with only one good eye.  All other House Finches who are in my garden–and there are quite a few– appear healthy.   The House FinchHaemorhous mexicanus, is a year-round resident, becoming more active as winter settles in.  Most bird feeders are designed with multiple perching stations, and birds share the stations with varying degrees of camaraderie.  Here, the House Finch clan dominates, with a red-accented male perching at the left and the more drab females completing the feeder trio.

Hey birds, over here!

Another duo feeding a the food bar is a second male House Finch sharing a meal with a Black-crested TitmouseBaeolophus atricristatus.

I’m not sure if the Black-crested is a male or female, but I’m confident that the House Finch is a young male.

The House Finch  poses nicely, the Black-crested snarfs seeds.

A Northern CardinalCardinalis cardinalis,  couple nests each year in a neighbor’s shrubbery,  but make daily forays into my garden to feed and bathe.    No photo this month of the scarlet feathered male, but the female is a head-turner in her own right!

A common Texas wintering songbird is the Orange-crowned WarblerOreothlypis celata, and I’m fortunate to have at least one who is regularly visiting.

Song birds love suet and it’s a good thing to feed them in winter.  I can’t provide suet for 7 or 8 months because Austin’s warm climate causes the suet to turn rancid quickly.  It’s a perfect winter/early spring food though and provides fat, which birds need.

This little Orange-crowned also enjoys the occaisional bath in the pond bog.

About to take the plunge!

I provide a commercial suet for my avian friends, but there are many recipes for homemade suet.  Check out these recipes if you’re so inclined

Facing the camera!

The pair of  Carolina WrensThryothorus ludovicianus, also visit more than just the feeders.   A favorite perch is a metal sculpture where each of the pair takes turns surveying the landscape.

Check out my profile!

The 360 degree view requires a look-see at the backside!

This favorite perching place is just below a little house built for the wrens, which they’ve inspected, but haven’t yet used for chick rearing.  Fingers-crossed that this spring, they’ll decide the neighborhood is worthy of their chicks.

Wrens forage on the ground, scavenging for insects and small seeds; they also enjoy the suet.

Eyeing something in the fallen leaves!

 

Finally, a bird who lands in a tree!  

Giving me the stink-eye is this immature Cooper’s HawkAccipiter cooperii. He/she had scattered the neighborhood doves, with no meal as a reward, and was resting in a neighbor’s tree, no doubt annoyed with missing lunch.  The beauty loped off just after this shot.  Cooper’s Hawks are year-round residents here, but easier to observe once winter’s  chill render some trees bare.

There are always plenty of squirrels (stealing birdseed and digging in plant containers) who become meals for neighborhood raptors, though perhaps not as often as some might wish.  This squirrel was safe on the ground and near the house, munching away at fallen sunflower seeds and generally behaving well.

Eastern Fox Squirrel (Sciurus niger)

The Virginia OpossumDidelphis virginiana, is still around too, sometimes mosying through the garden during daylight, but not sleeping in the owl house–for now.

There are no Eastern Screech Owls in the owl house either, nor have I heard the adults’ signature trill at night.  I’m concerned that no couple is interested in the owl real estate in my garden and if there are no takers, that will be disappointing.  There’s still time for some owl action and owls are remarkably elusive; I won’t begin the no-owls-in-my-garden lamentation just yet.

So begins another year of garden wildlife drama.  Let’s celebrate lots of life in the garden during 2018. Please share your wildlife stories and remember to leave your link when you comment.

Good wildlife gardening to you!