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.

Side Eye

This Green Anole, Anolis carolinensis, delivered a side eye as I ambled through my garden and greeted him with a cheery hey there, buddy!

He displayed his dewlap once or twice during our one-sided conversation, whether in competition or flirtation, I won’t make a guess.

I moved on with my chores and he continued his exploration of the Softleaf Yucca foliage, but kept a wary eye on my movements.

Beauty in the Rough

The sandpaper feel of its foliage is what gives Roughleaf Dogwood, Cornus drummondii, its common name. I’ve always thought that the beauty of this small tree deserved a more poetic name, perhaps in praise of its graceful form or lauding its creamy blooms and fruits.

Regardless, I’m pleased to house two of these lovelies in my back garden. Excellent wildlife plants, these little trees are the gifts that keep on giving: pollinator magnet blooms, lush foliage for wildlife cover, hardy-drought resistant additions to the garden, yummy fruits for native and migrating birds, and purple-to-mauve-to-pink golden fall color for all to admire.

The petite flowers bloom in mounds from March through May. Mine are mostly done.

The flowers attract a wide variety of pollinators. Each blooming season seems to host one particular kind of insect as the primary sipper of the good stuff. Last year, I recall that different species of syrphid flies were 2024’s insects of rough-leaf choice. In other years, migrating Monarchs have stopped by in decent numbers. Always, the home-grown honeybees partake of the dogwood’s offerings.

This blooming season it was iridescent Blow Flies, Calliphoridae, who were the primary beneficiaries of the nectar and pollen of the dogwood blooms. There were others who pollinated, like our resident honeybees, and I viewed some smaller butterflies at the flowers, but the Blow flies were the most numerous visitors.

Once the flowers have bloomed and provided, the beginnings of the berries is nigh.

In this photo, note the assorted stages: in the lower background, buds are just opening; in the foreground, flowers that are done, leaving the ovaries to become fruits; and to the right, an uneaten fruit from last season. In the course of rain, heat, ice, and wind the once-luscious berry is darkened, hard, and presumably unappetizing.

These are a few of the fruit sets from this spring’s floral bounty.

By August, the small green spheres will grow larger and milky-white. Blue Jays, Northern Mockingbirds, migrating neo-tropical birds, plus squirrels and other mammals will feast on juicy fruits. The fruits of the dogwood are drupes: skin with a fleshy outside and seeds inside. Drupe is a fun word.

As summer arrives, revving up its hot-rod heat, these little trees will remain green and lush. Birds will rest and hide, and berries will ripen for late summer/autumn snacks.

Wildlife is sustained, the gardener smiles.