The Camera Doesn’t Lie

The camera may not lie, but it doesn’t work, either–more about that later.  Back in December, we installed a bird camera in the nesting box for “our” Eastern Screech Owl, Megascops asio, couple.

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Bee Daddy perched precariously…

Wrapping the wiring around the tree...

Wrapping the wiring around the tree…

After The Bad Squirrel Incident in April 2015, we thought it wise to keep a third eye on our Screech Owl seasonal residents. This spring, with the camera up and transmitting to our desktop and Mama in the house on a regular basis, it was a fun, if not somewhat addicting, to watch her preen and rest in her little nest box.

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On Sunday, March 6, Mama laid her first egg.

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Here, Mama is peering out of the box, with her wings ready for take-off early in the evening after a hard day’s egg-laying.

The  second egg came on Wednesday, March 9,

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…the third,

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Friday, March 11

…fourth,

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Sunday, March 13

…and fifth.

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Wednesday, March 15

The eggs appeared on an every-other-day schedule and that is typical of how Screeches deliver. The egg photos were taken shortly after Mama left the house on each of those evenings.   You can imagine how exciting the prospect is of observing and chronicling the owl family as it grows and develops.  The gestation for Screech Owls is approximately 28 days, so by this post, if all are healthy, three owlets have hatched, with the other two hot on their heels–or shells.

Alas, there were some heavy winds here a couple of weeks ago and the camera went dark. Boo!  We’ve re-configured and manipulated all the connections and wires, opened up the house (when Mama flew out for her brief foray into the night) to diagnose the camera’s issue(s), and eventually removed the camera itself for further inspection.

It seems that  our bird camera has pooped out.

This photo was taken with Bee Daddy’s cell phone during his last scramble up the ladder and tree limbs to remove the camera permanently.

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Mama landed on the branch Bee Daddy straddled, just a few feet away, to keep her two big eyes on him. Once he removed the camera and we realized it’s not repairable, we decided not to interfere with the owls further this season.

I still see Mama the old-fashioned way,

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…as she peeks out  for a breath of fresh air, weary, and momentarily away from those hungry beaks. Just after that series of shots, Mama yawned.  I don’t know if owls yawn, but that’s what it looked like to me.

Mommy-work is hard.

Dad Owl keeps a close watch each day, all day in a neighbor’s tree which is a quick swoop away if he’s needed.

Dad Owl snoozing in the last rays of afternoon sun.

Dad Owl snoozing in the last rays of afternoon sun.

Daddy-work is hard, too.

Five growing and  hungry owlets are a big responsibility.  A favorite food of Screech Owls are pond toads, which there are usually plenty of in our garden, but the toads haven’t noisily appeared this year, which is odd. Toads are a ready source of “big game” food that our owls hunt directly and since they’re not yet available, I imagine the owls’ menu is consisting mostly insects and the occasional rat, mouse, or bird from wherever Dad Owl can find them. He’ll do all of the hunting until the owlets are so large that Mama can’t stay in the box and then she’ll join in the meal runs for the little ones.

The owlets will fledge in May and we’ll see (hopefully) how many of the babies have survived to that point.

Who Needs a Rubber Duckie?

Rubber Duckie, you’re the one,
You make bathtime lots of fun,
Rubber Duckie, I’m awfully fond of you…

With apologies to Sesame Street, Ernie, and the songwriter, Jeffrey A. Moss, this male Orange-crowned Warbler, Oreothlypis celata, has no need for a rubber duckie to have fun in the bath.

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On mornings when I don’t have to scoot out of the house too early, I take some time to watch avian visitors as they bathe in the bog section of my pond.   I’ve separated the Pickerel Rush, Pontederia cordata, allowing for more water than plants in the bog, and birds are enjoying the shallow, moving water. This little guy just seems so happy to have his bath.

Sing to the right...

Sing to the right…

Sing to the left...

Sing to the left…

Wiggle and splash!

Wiggle and splash!

Clean and pretty!

Clean and pretty!

Look at that gorgeous orange crown!

Look at that gorgeous orange crown!

I'm so cute, I'll drive the girls wild!

I’m so cute, I’ll drive the girls wild!

After he flew into a neighboring small tree to fluff and preen, his mate hopped to the edge of the public bath.

Guys!

Guys!

She was a bit more tentative and I never got  good, clear shots of her. Trust me though, she had a great time too.

Fun with birds!

Bee Bed-n-Breakfast

I guess the adage if you build it, they will come, is true, or at the very least when building insect hotels, the saying suggests some level of accuracy.  For February’s Wildlife Wednesday, I wrote about our building and placing of two insect/bee hotels in the garden.  While building these things isn’t necessary to provide homes and nesting spots for bees and other insects, they are fun, quirky additions to a garden and  they lend some architectural gravitas to a wildlife habitat.

So far, the houses/hotels have been a big hit with some of the native bees!

Some of the bee holes are filled providing protection and nourishment for the larvae.

Some of the bee holes are filled providing protection and nourishment for the larvae.

Specifically, one set of native bee species, the Blueberry bee, Osmia ribifloris, has really taken a shine to the new housing available in the neighborhood. [Upon further reading, I believe that this bee is the Blue Orchard BeeOsmia lignaria.  Both of these bee species are categorized as mason bees and the USDA article (linked above) describes the early spring behavior that exactly matches the behavior of “my” little bees.  Regardless, the bees are  valuable and desirable pollinators to attract to the home garden.  And, they’re really cute and interesting to observe.]

Wayward Osmia ribifloris rescued from my kitchen.

Wayward Osmia ribifloris rescued from my kitchen.

I should add that the identification of this bee species is subject to update–if you recognize this beauty and I didn’t identify the bee correctly–please let me know.  The O. ribifloris O. lignaria is a mason bee and judging from the holes in masonry of my back patio, I see why this species is categorized thus!

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Osmia ribifloris searching for just the right hole for her nest.

Osmia ribifloris searching for just the right hole for her nest.

Additionally, these bees also build their nests in the screw holes of my two electric leaf blowers and an electric trimmer that I failed to store in the garage prior to the bees deciding that it’s time to raise up their families.

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Osmia ribifloris searching for another nesting site.

Osmia ribifloris searching for another nesting site.

That’s what I mean when I suggest that insect hotels aren’t required–bees are quite opportunistic and imaginative when finding cozy spots for their progeny. Regardless, the bee hotels are charming and I’m tickled that the bees are using them for their nesting/nursery bed-n-breakfast hotels.  Several O. ribifloris have busily laid eggs and safely tucked in those eggs and future larvae.

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Fascinating to observe, it takes an individual bee a couple of hours to pack the hole with pollen and soil.  In my attempts to photograph the bee action, I stood for periods of time, camera at the ready, watching one, or more, bees at work. Each bee flies into her chosen hole and disappears for upwards of 5 or 6 minutes. Then each zooms out and off again, disappearing for 5-10 minutes while foraging for more nest-building stuff before returning to the hole.  The process repeats until the holes are filled almost to the rim.

As the hole fills up with packing material, the bee is visible at the mouth of the hole, working and wiggling her bee magic so the bee babies are well-nurtured as they develop.

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What native bees use as “packing material” varies, but it usually includes pollen (often from specific plants), soil/mud, and sometimes leaf material.  Ever had perfect little holes taken out of rose leaves?  There’s no doubt that was the work of some leafcutter bee variety as she was building her nest.

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Not only have the O. ribifloris bees filled the drilled holes, but they’ve utilize the cut bamboo pieces for their nests.IMGP4953_cropped_2959x3144..new

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The bamboo hole was filled in one afternoon by the industrious bee.

The bamboo hole was filled in one afternoon by the industrious bee.

Since taking these photos, other holes have been filled, but really, how many pollen filled-hole photos do you want to see?

My original plan for the insect hotel  was to stack them, one on top of the other in a shady corner of my garden.

But after the squirrels (I always blame garden mischief on the squirrels) knocked them over–several times–it became obvious that a plan B was in order.  I hung the smaller of the two on a pillar of the back patio,

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…and affixed the larger of the two on the fence.  Because the fence-placed bee house wasn’t getting any bee action, and was difficult to get close-up photos of without tromping all over plants and soil, and was soaked during heavy rain, I’ve recently moved it closer to the back patio and in a more protected area.

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This is also a spot where I can more easily observe the comings and goings of bees without crushing emerging, or emerged, plants–or tripping over rocks.   So far, for whatever unknown reason, I still haven’t seen any bees nesting in that house.

Oddly enough and for now, these O. ribifloris are the only species choosing to nest in the insect hotels, but I don’t think I’ve seen them  working any of the many blooms that are currently available in the garden.  Perhaps I’m not out in bee-watching mode at the time they’re working flowers, but it is curious that they aren’t bees I typically see in my garden.   I haven’t followed any back into the garden while observing their nest-building because I’ve been too focused (more like too distracted) on checking photos I’ve taken of their work in and on the nests.  Not following one of these intrepid bees was probably a missed opportunity.

Nonetheless, I’m pleased that native bees of several sorts are plentiful in the garden this spring, busy at their flowering work.

Sweat Bee (Augochloropsis metallica) at a Coral Honeysuckle bloom.

Sweat Bee (Augochloropsis metallica) at a Coral Honeysuckle bloom.

Sweat bee flying in for a bloom landing.

Sweat bee flying in for a bloom landing.

Horsefly-like Carpenter bee (Xylocopa tabaniformis) at a Coral Honeysuckle bloom cluster.

Horsefly-like Carpenter bee (Xylocopa tabaniformis) at a Coral Honeysuckle bloom cluster.

Sweat bee, Lasioglossum spp., at the Golden Groundsel blooms.

Sweat bee (Lasioglossum spp.) (?) at the blooms of Golden Groundsel.

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Small carpenter bee (Ceratina sp.)(?) at Golden Groundsel.

Small carpenter bee (Ceratina spp.)(?) at Golden Groundsel.

For more information about native bees and how you can make your garden appealing to them, check out this link from the Xerces Society.