Just about a week ago the trees woke up. I noticed teeny, tiny green leaves (truly, just nubs) appearing on my Rough-leaf Dogwood, Cornus drummondii. My attention was then turned to the larger bits of green sparkling in my Possumhaw, Ilex decidua, backlit by early morning sun.
The first glittery leaves decorated lower limbs on the multi-trunk little tree. The upper parts, reaching for the sky, waited a day or two for their sparkles.
Life got busy–the normal stuff of course–but we also spent most of Friday in a local emergency room where my husband was diagnosed with mononucleosis (talk about reliving your high school years!) and I didn’t have time to pay attention the the emerging foliage all around.
The Hub is fine; he’s very tired, but being a good patient by drinking plenty of fluids and resting. The trees aren’t resting one little bit, exploding with green of various shapes and hues, all exhibiting sparkling effects to one degree or another.
Spring flowers are showing off too; they refuse to let foliage get all the attention and accolades.
Spring is here. Plants are growing and blooming, birds are building nests and mating. I’ll take it all as symbols of hope and affirmation of life.
I continue to observe our local Eastern Screech owl couple when I spend time looking for them at sundown, but I’m now convinced they’ve chosen another spot to raise their family. I’m bummed about that as I was privileged last year to watch the process, from eggs to owls, and hoped to witness again this year. But I wish the adults good hunting, plenty of nourishing food for their young and safe passage for the chicks into adulthood.
In recent weeks I’ve noticed a pair of gorgeous Red-shouldered Hawks, Buteo lineatus around my part of the neighborhood. Soaring high or winging from tree to tree, the pair are graceful; one perched atop tall trees calling to the other is joyous; a male gliding overhead as I walked, landing next to his mate, the two mating, then perching companionably, a treat to see. I wondered if they might choose a neighborhood tree to raise their young. Two mornings ago, as I finished the first walk of the day with Duke the Dog, I noticed one of the hawks, stick in beak, gliding toward the top of my tall American Sycamore tree, where he settled in next to his mate. He spent a minute poking the stick into the nest. So THAT’S where they’re nesting!
It seems they’ve opted for a fixer-upper. These two are squatting in an abandoned squirrel nest, adding their own personal touches to make the nest homey for some little hawks to come. The morning light wasn’t conducive for great shots, but you can clearly see one adult in the nest, the other a few branches below. In fact, that below hawk had a stick in its beak as he flew to the tree, but lost it, somehow, as he landed. He looks annoyed!. Oh well, there are plenty of sticks in the trees.
Here is a little better shot of these beautiful birds. I think it’s the female who perches on the right, her mate is to the left.
Common throughout the eastern parts of the United States, Red-shouldered Hawks are particularly attractive birds. They’re large, but smaller than Red-tailed Hawks. Their wings and tail feathers fan out as they soar, rich red, their signature coloring, on breasts, shoulders, and parts of the underwings. Tails are patterned in light and dark.
The male flew back and forth, between my stately Sycamore and a neighbor’s large Red Oak, breaking off small sticks from the oak to bring to the sycamore nest. He looked clumsy as he flapped and hopped from branch to branch, searching for the perfect stick. I marvel that his huge wings aren’t tangled in the bramble of wood.
Once he had his chosen stick, he winged his way to the sycamore, landed on the nest, and tucked the stick in, just so, to make his nest secure for his chicks. I assume his mate approved, or not, the addition.
I hope this isn’t a trial run on home choice, and that they don’t abandon it for some other real estate, but time will tell and wildlife will do what they do. It’s the end of winter, spring is nearly here, time for new families. It’s with mixed feelings that I know the small mammals, reptiles, and birds are less safe with these two around, but so it goes with nature.
After the massive autumn flowering of Plateau Goldeneye, Viguiera dentata, and pollinators, especially honeybees, have taken their cut of the action, flowers segue to seeds, and birds replace bees.
In the last few weeks, each time I walk outside or come home from elsewhere, there’s a whoosh of wings upwards–with accompanying chirps–to the relative safety of nearby taller trees and shrubs. Tiny Lesser Goldfinches, Spinus psaltria, are come-and-go visitors in my garden throughout the year. In October and November, their numbers increase, along with their appetites, as they favor the seeds of the Plateau Goldeneye shrubs.
This little male doesn’t look frenzied, but he and his crew energetically work the shrubs, nibbling delectable goldeneye seeds as they bop along slender limbs, stopping only to munch. .
These little cuties are also contortionists, noshing right-side up, up-side down, and sideways. Their determination to pluck available seeds is hampered only by limitations of wings, claws, and beaks.
Bum’s-up, little fella!
While it’s impossible to count how many goldfinches are feeding during the frenzy, the flock(s) are made up of both male and female, and there are a also plenty of juveniles in the mix as well.
I never got a good photo of a pretty, but sedately colored, female, but they are just as active and hungry as their male counterparts. Here’s a shot of one, in early summer of 2021, enjoying the bounty of a different sunflower plant.
Often, a goldfinch couple feeds together, either on the same branch or near one another. As winter approaches and the seed sources disappear, I’ll see Lesser Goldfinches visit my feeders.
Until they’ve vanquished this year’s goldeneye seed crop, I’ll hear their song and enjoy their frenzied antics!
My Gardener Says... 