Flight

At least two of the fledglings have flown today. Probably the two in the pictures with the least down left were the adventurers. They will be quite awkward for a few days and miscalculate distances and heights and suddenly find themselves overtaken by fear. For the past two years, one of the fledglings has fallen, been taken by watchful neighbors to PAWS for rehab and been brought back, when well and tagged, to be released back to the neighborhood and family. The next few days will be critical in that regard. As for today, though, all is well. When I left the site, there were plaintive calls coming from the back of the nest tree from one of the adventurers probably tired, hungry, fearful, and fumbling. Spike was in a nearby tree watching as there is not much she can do unless they're threatened.
Flight is such an interesting thing to us on the ground. It is absolutely nature and nurture. For several weeks those wee birds get to see demonstrations of technique from their own masters, their parents. They witness countless takeoffs and landings, swoops, banks, soars. Somewhere in their brains this information is collected, stored, and used when their shoulders start feeling "the itch" and those pieces of fluff start falling off to reveal long and beautiful and aerodynamic feathers. They bob and flex and jump in the nest to strengthen their leg muscles and flap and stretch their wings time after time. It all leads to this day, flight day. All the preparation helps but it is that leap, that desire to leap, that need to leap which stops many of us on the ground. This is where I think "nature" really takes charge. It is that irrevocable need to leap that birds have that we do not. And, of course, once the leap is taken and nature's call is answered, then all that flexing and flapping and nurturing come into play and flight ensues. We on the ground have devised our own birds but, alas, we can never fully trust ourselves to nothing but our wings and the elements. Thus, that leap is for those two birds today and their siblings tomorrow or the next day and never for us groundlings.

Five

Today, from the mid-afternoon on, was clear, pleasantly warm, and sunny and, we thought, a perfect setting for visiting "the birds" once again. We watch the fledglings and mom and dad from the west side of the nest tree so this evening's sun gave everything a beautiful golden glow. By the time we arrived onsite, there were already two birders with two scopes trained at the top of the fir and shortly after we set up, several others came by, scopes, cameras and binocs at the ready. It's a congenial group of people here in the neighborhood who like to walk of an evening and watch birds. We don't become particularly loud. We're not messy at all. Being considered geeks, we take all comers. In fact there are no rules to the congregation, only a place and a reason. We love birds and especially these rather rare ones, the merlin falcons.
Once again, they didn't disappoint. The big discovery tonight was that there were 5 fledglings. This didn't come as much of a surprise as that has been the number for the past two years. We rather expected it. What was so hard about that expectation this year was proof because the nest is so obscure. Anyway, the branching going on the past few days has literally flushed the birds from the nest and allowed us to count heads, all five of them!
Tonight, Spike (the mother of the 15) positioned herself after one good feeding atop a nearby cedar tree and seemed to be stretching herself by spreading her wings and tail feathers. She, golden she, put on quite a show for all of the scopes and lenses below and spent enough time in the falling sunshine for many photos to be taken in the midst of a lot of "ooohs and aahhs". She is a wildly successful mother and mate, an absolutely ferocious protector and fighter, and an utter inspiration and delight for geeks like me. She thrills me as do her offspring.
Her little ones should be flying very soon. One or a couple were flying, whether they knew it or not, from branches and back to the nest this evening. It is not a far cry for one of them to travel to a neighboring tree in the next couple of days and we geeks with many lenses will be there to thrill once again to something we can't see too many times!

The new family

We went to the new nest site last evening and over the course of nearly 2 hours watched 4 baby merlins branching, a couple rather far from the nest. From many hours of observation, only 3 birds had been seen but last night a fourth emerged clearly and as actively as the three others. Now, of course, we will be straining to see if there are ultimately 5 babies as there have been in the previous 2 broods.
There was no unusual activity last evening. The babies branched and flapped their wings according to their age and size. The two eldest babies were the furthest out on the limbs while the 2 younger a little less so. I have heard that, not unlike human behavior, male birds adventure further and faster than females and that the females are much better at preening away their downy feathers. If that is the case, the 2 birds perching farthest from the nest were males complete with downy "Mohawks"!
We witnessed a couple of prey drops by Spike (the mom), heard the young's calls several times, and saw how active they became after each feeding. After a feeding, the birds usually start head bobbing, moving around the nest, jumping and then branching, picking, scratching, wing flapping. Such was the case after both food deliveries last night. There was a lot of movement for most of our time there.
There was one oddity which is an addendum to my prior post. A "rogue" bird (I was told, male) flew in around the second prey drop occasion and was chased off by Thor (male father). It was a defensive attack but nothing like the behavior when the "predator" is, say, a crow or a bald eagle. This was a quick attack to drive the bird away and just as quickly it was over. To anthropomorphize, it was as if Thor said "Thanks but no thanks". Interesting.
The photos are of the two male (?) adventurer babes from last night.

Those fledged and fledging

The merlins story is a late one this year due to the fact that Spike and Thor had to move their nest from one very open and unstable site to the present fir tree which is the polar opposite of the former. In fact, up until the last couple of weeks, there was a question whether there would be a nest at all because it could not be seen. After careful observation of the parents' behaviors (pretty well known now from the past two years practice), we figured out that, indeed, there was a nest and eggs and, after a bit of time, hatchlings were being fed. The last 2 weeks have led the birders to believe that there are 3 fledgees (only because that's all that can be seen from hours of observation by scopes) but there may be more. Time will tell.
So, save for the lateness, all is pretty normal except for the fact that there are, a few people have noted, 5 adults present around the nest. Twice, we have seen 4 adults. Two are identifiable as the parents, Spike and Thor, and the other two are unknown. A couple of people have witnessed yet another single bird, a "rogue" merlin joining the group. That is the important part of the last sentence: the group. From what we have all seen and noted, this is a group. There are no "enemies" as there is no defensive posture or threat in evidence when these 2 or three other birds are there. In fact, we saw that they were flying quite close to the new nest without being "buzzed" by Mom or Dad. So, we can only deduce that the "extras" are offspring from previous years, older brothers and sisters, who have not "left the nest".
There was a report on the internet this week about this in the human population. Large numbers of recent college graduates are returning to their parents' homes because they cannot find jobs or cannot afford to live on their own. Perhaps they just don't want to live elsewhere. Who knows? The phenomenon is large enough to be noticed and notable whatever it's cause. Could our young adult birds be similarly afflicted? They are a little old to be hanging around the nest. Perhaps they just cannot find enough food to sustain their own nests. Again, who knows? It is a very interesting proposition to ponder.

Another Bloomsday

On this day last year, I spent 6 hours babysitting. I sat and watched a baby chickadee which had fallen from the nest in our dogwood into a thick epimedium plant at the base recover from the fall and start the climb back up again. Led by his frantically calling parents, the wee one literally wobbled then hopped up and up over those 6 hours to the level of the nest (7-8 feet off the ground) and then to a further branch until it finally sat and rested at about the 12 foot level. It was my last sight of the bird. It flew after a brief rest at that height, never to be recognized afterwards. Of course, I've seen many, many chickadees in that tree since but none that I firmly know as Leopold, the name I gave him after about 3 hours of rebounding from his fall last Bloomsday. So, today, a year on, I saw another chickadee in the dogwood early this morning and hoped it was the fellow I babysat and will never forget.
Instead of watching and fretting over a little chickadee, I transferred my observances to our Merlins who seem to be confusing us this year, their third in our neck of the woods. Apparently, Spike (female) and Thor (male) have been joined in their nesting by another pair! Now, we witnessed, last time we watched them at the nest site, a "spare" Merlin (probably male) flying near the nest and wondered whether it could be one of the offspring from the past two years. This "pair" of "accompanying" Merlins might indeed be 2 of last year's brood but what they are doing hanging around and why is a complete mystery. Equally a mystery is this year's nest as it is entirely fir covered. You simply cannot see it via binoculars or, presumably, scope either so there is no knowing, this year, just how many chicks there are or will be!
My viewing tonight was, then, of Mom and Pop, aka Spike and Thor. It was a treat to hear that familiar, loud call and then see them soaring to their perches by the nest tree. Spike looked quite pretty and full in the late day light and posed for me for quite a while. I suppose she was warming herself and taking a rest from sitting on the nest. Anyway, if I couldn't recognize Leopold here, I could recognize Spike there and that made this Bloomsday another memorable one.

Moss on the north side

Here are some random musings. Lately, our weather has been typical for this region and at this time of year - early to mid-June - but has driven even the best of us a little crazy with the seemingly relentless rainy grey skies. I've only been able to work in the garden for a few hours in the past week for all the rain and so have been working inside and downstairs. I was in the office last Wednesday afternoon when I heard a great ruckus being raised by growing numbers of squawking crows. I opened the curtains which are at ground level just in time to see groups of crows swarming around my neighbor's fir tree boughs and from which emerged a bald eagle headed for our backyard! At this time of year, I suspect the eagle was nest robbing. I was too startled to notice whether the eagle was flying with prey or not. I was simply astonished to see an eagle in the city and in my yard! A few days later, and in that brief clear weather window, I heard the crows' clarion call once more coming, this time, from across the street and saw several crows chasing/buzzing another (perhaps the same?) eagle.
If you've read past entries in this blog, you know that our neighborhood has been host to 2 successful and completely recorded clutches of Merlin falcons and, currently, is watching a third in process. Nature, wild nature, is nothing new up here. In a large pond which feeds the creek a couple of blocks from here, beavers are actively felling trees for their dams and nests. It is an astounding thing to see: unmistakeable teeth marks on several large stumps in a pond surrounded by apartments and condos in the city. I often joke with friends that I live on " a racoon highway". For years we've noticed racoons and opossums meandering through our yards at night, often with offspring, coming from the creek and travelling, presumably, in the direction of the lake. I think more than the animals and birds, I am more unhinged (and delighted) that this is happening in a big city and in the 21st century. As oil is gushing and smothering generations of wildlife elsewhere and in the name of progress, it is thrilling to be witness to the progress of the wild life here.

I love mosses and lichens. I love the cultures and colors. Here are a few photos of what has been growing on my north side of late.

Birding for flora

When I was first introduced to birding, I was amazed at how boring it was to me, endlessly so. We were out on a levee about an hour outside of the city on a lovely fall day and just standing there and looking for and at the occasional duck with the North Cascades and Mt. Baker hovering large as a backdrop. This was a beautiful, if muddy, setting and glorious to experience but not endlessly so and with nothing else to do! I was utterly beside myself with boredom after about an hour. Given that my future promised to be replete with such forays, I decided then and there that I needed to 1/ learn about birds and know where and what to look for if I was going to survive in this partnership and 2/ find some other "pacific" amusement which would fill the time, be of use, and help me through the hours looking for birds.
Well, these many years later, I can vouch for my complete commitment to birding and birds. I don't know when the "tipping point" occurred but somewhere along the line, I just got interested myself and often sighted birds first. So, at some time, I achieved goal number one and just didn't stop to think about it.
Goal number 2 involved photography. I was able to pick up rather inexpensively a couple of old 35 milimeter cameras and often took them along on these birding excursions for my purposes. I took countless shots of the mountains, the grasses, the sloughs, the birds, millions of wildflowers, etc. over the years and got rather good at it. I think it was in the midst of these years when the transition between photography and birding melded. Also, photography, the old fashioned way, became quite expensive.
So, I skip to yesterday when we travelled to Umtanum Falls (east of the mts.) to look at birds. We saw plenty! All along the road, the Yakima Valley Audubon has erected well over 100 bluebird boxes, each numbered and many occupied this year. We saw countless Western bluebirds flying into and around these many boxes. That should have told us something as, once we arrived at the creek and started hiking to the falls, we began seeing hundreds and hundreds of birds: grosbeaks, orioles, western tanagers, olive sided flycatchers, robins, yellow warblers, house wrens, kestrels, redtailed hawks, meadowlarks, brewer's sparrow, solitary vireo, song sparrows, juncos, cedar waxwings, bullocks orioles, stellar jays, catbirds, mountain chickadees, possible white headed woodpecker, ravens, and crows. We had arrived at a great time of the year and of the day (early to mid-morning) and heard and saw birds galore.
This hike was along a creek, as I've said, but on the dry side of the mountains. Normally, the path would be much dryer. Lately, though, the weather has been quite wet and the path was really sloppy in spots. At one point, having slipped and become muddied up, I decided to forego seeing the falls and just look around me. It was at that point, digital camera in hand, that I started to see a number of small wildflowers, lichens, and the beautiful ponderosa pine bark which focussed my attention to two specimens: Camas lilies (camas quamash) and Pinus Ponderosa (both pictured). Both were in abundance yesterday, large and beautiful. So, here they are, more fully examined.
The Camas lily was a very valuable plant for the natives as it's roots were used for a number of medecines and foods, bread specifically. On their journey through the western states, Lewis and Clark were introduced to the Camas lily and it's many uses by the Shoshone and Nez Perce indians and wrote a long passage about it in their journals.
The Ponderosa Pine is one of those trees that was and still is used in it's entirety. It's orange colored bark with the black lining in the crevasses is an absolute wonder and beauty to me and was used by natives to cover their houses. This is the third most harvested tree in the western U.S. and is used to build many, many houses. Natives used the logs for dugout canoes, the needles for insulation of underground storage, the roots for blue dyes, the boughs for sweat lodges for muscle pains, and the pitch as an ointment for sores, scabby skin, backaches, rheumatism, earaches, inflamed eyes, and as a sleeping agent for infants.
I just wanted to celebrate both these plants, large and small, for their beauty.