Guest Blogging Day 4: Art Drauglis

Welcome to Day 4 of the Swarovski Optik Guest Blogging Contest. We've had a lot of fun entries so far, and our next one is from Art Drauglis, and is about one of those truly remarkable encounters you can have in nature.

Hawk vs. Turtle

Shortly after I started up the Powell Mountain Trail in Shenandoah National Park I noticed some movement off in the brush. At first I thought that I had flushed a Ruffed Grouse, but whatever it was had not gone very far. I moved up the trail a few feet and saw the bird again behind a tree. It was a juvenile Broad-Winged Hawk and it seemed to be injured or stuck. One foot was stuck inside of a trap or can. I took a few steps closer and saw that it was actually wedged into a box turtle. The prey had trapped the predator. The hawk had not yet learned that it was too small to lift something the size of a turtle. It was a Blue Ridge Mountain version of the Mexican Coat of Arms (an eagle battling a rattlesnake in a cactus). I have heard that some hawks will pick up turtles and drop them on rocks until their shells shatter; that was not going to happen today.

I thought that I might be able to assist the situation so I crouched down and moved to within three feet of the pair.

In order to free it I would have to use one hand to separate toe and turtle and the other to hold the hawk still. Not a recommended course of action. I thought that if I could go at the hawk from behind that the strategy might work, but if I got closer than three feet the hawk would roll back into a defensive posture. Not being able to get away, it was prepared to slash away with it's free foot and beak. Not only that, but every time it leaned away from me, the wedged toe bent at an unnatural angle.

I have learned that observing wildlife is much more healthy and satisfying when one pays attention to the cues and body language of the animal being observed and reacts accordingly. If I had had my welding gloves with me, I might have been able help more, but one seldom finds need for thick leather gloves on long hikes in the mountains. I had also never handled a raptor before and If something went wrong, I had a four miles of distance and 1800 feet of elevation to cover before I get help.

I backed away a few feet and then left them to their fate.

I wondered how long the turtle could keep itself boxed up, particularly if it was wounded. I imagined the toe stuck in there wagging around, stabbing and scratching.

If the hawk could not free itself by dusk it was doomed. It would be an easy picking for the first bobcat, coyote, fox, or bear to wander by. I should say a relatively easy picking; it would surely fight, but there would not be a chase.

As I walked away one thought went through my head -

What Would Birdchick do?

We had been introduced to Sharon via the Disapproving Rabbits page and two of our bunnies were in the DR book. When I wondered what I could have or should have done, she was the first person I thought to ask.

I was just hoping to get some thoughts or corrections about what I did or should have done or could do in the event I ever find a hawk with it's foot stuck in a turtle again.

The guidance she offered:

"First of all, officially and scientifically, you didn't do anything wrong to let nature take its course in this situation. However, there are loads of people who are happy to tell you the opposite. Pro turtle people will think you were cruel to leave it like that, hard core raptor enthusiasts will say you should have helped the hawk. And honestly, it's tough to say if both will survive or die from this altercation whether you helped either creature. Either the turtle or the hawk could get away from this and suffer from a fatal infection or they may go on to live several more years. Too many variables and something that happens all the time in the wild that few ever get the chance to witness. This is how first year birds learn how and what to hunt and one of the reasons why 75% of birds hatched this year don't live to see next year."

She also corrected my ID - since it was on the small side and in a forest, my first thought was Cooper's Hawk, but "The eye color is too dark and the shape in all of your photos is classic Buteo, not Accipiter." From that I was led to the correct ID - juvy Broad-Winged Hawk.

Thanks for the great entry, Art! We'll be back tomorrow with another entry in the blogging contest!

Guest Blogging Day 3: Allison Shock

And we're back for Day 3 of the Swarovski Optik Guest Blogging shindig. Glad to see that you're all enjoying it so far. Make sure to check out the blogs of our guest writers for more great entries.

Our blogger today is Allison Shock of Three Star Owl blog.

Vertical Napping Bark: it’s hard to see an owl

My friend Kate McKinnon recently posted that she has a hard time seeing owls in the wild, and she takes it personally. Well she should, because an owl’s Primary Goal other than to eat something, is to escape detection, by you, by me, by a thoughtless human with a crossbow, by the other bigger owl, by sharp-eyed prey, and by Kate McKinnon. We are all of us intended to Not See Owls.

Owls have many tools for escaping detection: cryptic coloration, shifting outline often modified with cranial feather tufts, motionless roosting, self-effacing habits, and nearly silent flight. They are chromosomally adept at Hiding in Plain Sight.

Seeing an owl is a lightning bolt, a mistake, a gift, a shock, a plot by crabby song birds. A sighting is usually because someone who knows where an owl day-roosts points it out, or we hear one call and get a glimpse as it glides across a dark sky, or because wrens and chickadees and jays fink it out. If the owl is seen, a small owl will shrink or stretch, and squint to hide its telltale eyes; a big owl might merely turn its head, or not, because though it prefers to not be seen, it isn’t too worried since you cannot fly. If you spot an owl don’t point or wave the hands, it might make it flee. If you remain still and quiet, they often will too, allowing a few photos, especially if they are rock stars like certain Mexican spotted owls in southeastern Arizona, who frequently host googly-eyed camera-toting visitors like me in their woods.

Here are some things to do if you wish to see an owl: put up a nest box; go on an owl prowl (check Audubon groups and raptor education outfits in your area); keep your ears open; look for owl pellets and whitewash under horizontal boughs close to the trunk; inspect the tops of saguaros at dusk; look in every tree/cactus hole you know of that’s above head height; go into the woods at night; watch the news (urban owls often wind up on TV, like the famous Scottsdale Safeway Urn-nesting Great horned owls); make secret offerings to the Great Owly Entity. But remember, owls’ desire to escape detection is greater than our ability to find them. Good luck, and Good Owling.

photos by A. Shock: Great horned owl with downy chick manifesting as barkless tree skin, San Pedro River, AZ; Mexican Spotted owl pair manifesting as dappled sunlight through branches, Huachuca Mountains, AZ.

Thanks, Allison! As a reminder, you can click on these pictures to enlarge them, and I definitely recommend that with this entry. We'll be back tomorrow with another entry!

Guest Blogging Day 2: Lynnanne Fager

And we're back for Day Two of the Swarovski Guest Blogging Contest. This entry, from Lynnanne Fager, is about a very unusual visitor to her backyard.

Results of a Backyard Bird Bordello

Spring is in the air and that only means one thing in my backyard: sex. At least for the birds, that is.

We hang cute little boxes, put out their favorite foods, all in an effort to coax the feathered sex fiends into the yard. We make sure the nest boxes have the right size holes for the bird we’re trying to attract. We put ventilation in, so the poor things don’t overheat. Sometimes, we even go so far as to put guttering on to catch the rain. We do all this just to invite sex into the back yard.

These birds don’t need any instruction, any sex manuals, doctor’s visits, or prenatal exams. Or do they?

It would seem our chickadees are out of control. They have no sense of dignity. At least one of our chickadees has been caught foolin’ around with the titmice. It seems we’ve created a backyard bird bordello.

This is what I found at my feeders one day in October, 2006.

Hybrid Chickadee x Tufted titmouse, north central Indiana (photo by Lynnanne Fager, 2006)

As far as I was concerned, there was only one thing it could be: a chick-a-mouse. (There are several word combos that one could put on this bird, but we won’t go there now!)

I put an email out to Cornell, minus the photo, explaining the bird I had and requesting any documentation on chickadee x tufted titmouse hybrids. I received a response that basically told me I didn’t know what I was talking about – and that if I had a photo, this gal would try to explain to me what it was I was seeing.

I sent the photo to her and moved on.

I put out a call and sent the above photo to master bander Dr. Ron Weiss who made swift plans to get this bird banded.

He did some research on the hybridization of these two birds and posted it on his website.

Ron arrived one Sunday, set up his nets and opened his banding station. This bird did nothing but tease us the entire morning flying into the feeding area, up and around the nets, that is until Indiana Wesleyan University Professor Steve Conrad showed up (Steve is working on a sub-banding permit, on the hybridization of the black-capped and Carolina chickadee. We joked and said the bird was waiting just for him).

After dancing a few jigs on top of the mist nets, our bird finally flew into the net.
Ron flew out the door, contained the bird and brought it into the house and closed the door behind him. He wasn’t taking any chances.

All the proper measurements were taken and recorded; the bracelet was secured around its leg. Ron checked the skull, and patterns on the tail feathers, noting it was a hatch year bird.
He collected DNA and plucked a few feathers, while I took quite a few photos. He then went outside, took GPS coordinates and released the bird.

Team Chick-a-mouse from left: Ron Weiss (holding the bird), Steve Conrad,
Lynnanne Fager, Tom Barker and Nancy Barker (photo by Jenna Fager, 2006)

The gal at Cornell wrote back a few weeks later with a sweet apology and included an ID from one of their top ornithologists stating that he thought it looked like a hybrid titmouse x chickadee. He suggested I contact Ohio State, but it was too late. Ron already had the bird. To date, the DNA cells are still in process (If there’s another lab out there who is interested in crunching this bird’s cells, contact me – I have rights to half of the DNA collected.)
The bird hung around our yard for a few months, until the sub-zero February winds blew through, carrying our strange little bird away with it.

Since then, I am constantly looking for a touch of unique in my yard birds. I find myself paying close attention, especially to those chickadees and titmice, and am always on the lookout for another strange creation from my backyard.

Guest Blogging Day 1: Amy Haran

Hello all, NBB here. Sharon is well on her way to Guatemala, where it's sunny and 80°, which means that it's time to begin Swarovski Optik Guest Blogging event. Our first entry is a fun one from Amy Haran of Your Bird of the Week.

What Kind of Bird Are You?

Which member of the avian world are you most like? It's a question every cool person asks at some point, for sure. So, I've composed my very own Cosmo-esque personality quiz to help you find out.

Please select the statements below that most closely represent you in regards to fashion, food, friends, conflict and communication. Then, scroll down to see what kind of bird you are and why.

It’s all very scientific, I assure you. OK, maybe not.

Fashion
A. My mantra: when in doubt, wear black.
B. I prefer to pair classic neutrals with rich, eye-popping color.
C. It doesn’t matter what I wear. My size and striking eyes make people sit up and take notice.
D. I’m not flashy, but I always look nice. Honestly, I prefer not to call attention to myself.
E. I’m pretty practical when it comes to clothes. I wear what’s best for getting my job done, whether it looks good or not.

Food
A. I’ll eat just about anything. Meat? Good. Vegetables? Good. Bread? Good.
B. I eat on the go, so fast food is my friend.
C. Give me meat! A well-cut steak, roasted chicken, fresh sushi, grilled pork chops—it all makes me drool.
D. I found the Atkins diet horribly offensive. It’s all about the carbs for me.
E. I love leftovers. If it’s good at dinner, it will be even better warmed up the next day.
Family/Friends
A. I’ve got many acquaintances, but I prefer to hang out with family.
B. The more the merrier. A crowded house is a happy house.
C. Leave me alone unless sex is involved.
D. Every meal is made better by sharing it with others, especially when it’s at the local watering hole.
E. People assume I’m solitary, but they would be surprised to see the number of friends who might show up for my holiday parties.

Conflict
A. When attacked by others, I rely on the strength of my family and friends.
B. I’m rarely aggressive except when it comes to matters of love. Then, watch out!
C. I seem tough, but you’d be surprised how little it takes to scare me off.
D. I hate confrontation! If things look rough, I beat a hasty retreat.
E. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, I won’t do to defend myself. Choose to mess with me, and you may not like the consequences.

Communication
A. I like to talk, and people usually hear me when I do.
B. My sweet voice masks a darker side.
C. I’m largely quiet except when frightened or turned on.
D. I chatter away all day. Who wouldn’t with a cheerful voice like mine?
E. I’m pretty quiet, but I do hiss when I get upset.

Now, add up your answers, and find the letter you picked most. Then scroll down to see what kind of bird you are. Don’t be surprised if you’re a mutty mix of birds.

Mostly A's: You are an American Crow

A medium-sized black bird, you eat whatever you can get—from road kill to fruit to insects to grain. You are close to your family, living with your parents for many years and helping them raise your younger brothers and sisters. You call on that close family when feeling threatened, and every crow within hearing of your harsh, cawing call will come to your defense!

Mostly B's: You are a Barn Swallow

A small bird with an iridescent blue back, caramel-colored body, and forked tail, you eat flies on the fly. You roost with often thousands of other barn swallows, building your own nest out of mud and grass on highway overpasses, bridges, barns, and parking garages. You’re little, but can be aggressive in matters of mating. Unmated male barn swallows are known to kill another pair’s nestlings in order to “break up” the couple and mate with the female. Meanwhile, females select males based on how long and symmetrical their tail is. This questionable behavior is masked by a sweet, warbling call.

Mostly Cs: You are a Red-tailed Hawk

A brown raptor with a brick-colored tail, you eat meat, including mice, squirrels, rabbits, fish, small birds, and even insects. Like most birds of prey, you’re largely a solitary animal, but you are believed to mate for life. While you are a large predator, everyone from song birds to crows will gang up on you and chase you out of their area. When this happens, you usually give up and go find less obnoxious hunting grounds. You are a quiet bird, but you use your piercing shriek to warn predators away from your nest and to attract mates.

Mostly Ds: You are a Chipping Sparrow

A small sparrow with a black and brown back, gray body, and rusty red cap, you prefer seeds above any other food. You are known for your highly social behavior, welcoming the company of other chipping sparrows and even the occasional quiet human being. Like all sparrows, you use rapid retreat to good cover to protect yourself from cats, hawks, and other predators. You are named after your happy little “chip, chip, chip” call. It’s not beautiful, but it’s a constant, comforting sound in gardens and parks.

Mostly Es: You are a Turkey Vulture

A large, blackish-brown bird with an unfeathered red face, you use your incredible sense of smell to find carrion. (Your unfeathered face comes in handy when diving into a rotting animal carcass.) Although often seen flying alone, you’re actually fairly social, roosting with other turkey vultures and gathering at smelly carcasses for an intimate meal. Predators be warned: You aren’t afraid of vomiting partially digested roadkill to warn others away and will even aim for the eyes if something gets too close. It’s all accompanied by a warning hiss that you learned as an ugly, little vulture chick.

Sources:
The Birds of North American Online
All About Birds

All photos taken from Wikimedia Commons:
American Crow
Barn Swallow
Red-tailed Hawk
Chipping Sparrow
Turkey Vulture

Thanks, Amy! Come back tomorrow for our next guest entry!

To a Rabbit

After our all-out, no-holds-barred attack on rabbits a couple of days ago, I started to feel bad. I like rabbits! It was Chet who got all uppity about being "king of this blog." He's a guy. Stuff like that happens when you get guys involved. I happen to think Cinnamon is a vision of lagopulchritude. It's the Rex breed of rabbit that I drool over every September, in the Small Animal Barn of our county fair. I'd have a rabbit if they didn't make my nose tickle, and my eyes itch...

So I decided to paint a rabbit, and show the steps of making this little painting here.
First, I start with a sketch I like, of a cottontail resting out on our lawn (made pre-dog, obviously. Cottontails don't get much rest around here anymore.) The next step is to paint some winter weeds around her, and put a nice wet wash of burnt umber and cobalt blue over the wet ground of her body. I make her fur much darker than it should be, because I'm about to sprinkle ordinary table salt atop that wash. Salt is hydrophilic, which means it draws water toward itself. Each grain makes a little puddle, and the pigment settles around that puddle of clear water. This gives a lovely organic effect that you couldn't do convincingly by trying. I use a lot of salt in my paintings these days. It's a big help for someone who is so used to painting feathers, that I panic a bit when asked to render other textures, like fur. The painting's about done now.

I want it to look spontaneous and quick, and it has been. But although a watercolor may be executed very quickly, there's a lot of thought and consideration that goes into making it look spontaneous.

Cinnamon, you're beautiful. This one's for you, kid!

Another snowy day, spent cleaning and getting ready to trim the Christmas tree. Today is a special day: Chet Baker turns 1! We decided to let him eat beef stew out of his bowl at the table with us, something he thought was a great idea. Here, waitress Phoebe helps him with his chair.
Then he digs in with the kids.
We had a ball at the big pet store in town,picking out toys we thought Chet would like. But he's developed a preternatural ability

to get the squeaker out of any toy, always accompanied by clouds of Hollofil. Our house is dotted with Hollofil bunnies from all the toys he's slaughtered. Even this squeaky football fell prey to his teeth. He's unrepentant, even though nobody can say "I'm sorry!" better than a googly-eyed Boston terrier.
I'm sorry about the shirt, Chet.

That Meddlesome Dog

Chet Baker Speaks:

OK, Cinnamon, I've got a challenge for you. How are you at pulling sleds? Huh? I not only pull them, but I cause spectacular wipeouts, then steal the sled, pull it all by myself, and give sloppy kisses to the kids. I'll bet rabbits bite when they kiss. I'm King of this Blog. It's a Dog Blog now, Bunnyface, and for the next week, there's nothing you can do about it. P.S. I CHASE bunnies. Bunnies are very careful around my yard. They come out only at night. Even the word "Bunny" sends me leaping up to the nearest windowsill, looking for my foe. There. I've said it. But you started it. Zick: That'll do, Chet. Down, boy.
It's snowing like crazy again, even though the weather says there's a slight chance of snow showers. Hmmph. Three inches and counting.

I'm home today, trying to get the house back under control so we can put the Christmas tree up tonight. There's something in me that balks at putting up a Christmas tree in a sloppy house. Gotta have it just perfect. We're also celebrating Chet's one-year-birthday tonight. I cannot begin to say what a happy difference that little dog has made in all our lives. The joy quotient has gone way up, and I'm sure we laugh now at least twice as much as we did before he arrived.

Last night was another bacchanale, a wine dinner with wonderful friends. The hosts were showcasing spicy Rhone Valley wines, and each of the seven couples attending made incredibly hearty courses to pair with them--seven incredibly hearty courses. We were all groaning by the time the Thompson/Zickefoose entry came around in slot #7--pork loin with apples, sweet potatoes, and a savory apple juice-honey-pepper sauce. Caveman Bill cooked it outside in his big cast-iron Dutch oven. It was fab, if a little over-the-top for a dessert. The wines were big, hearty, and fabulous. I drank about a tablespoon of each one, since we had a snowy drive home.
Well, back to cleaning the house and hanging dripping snowsuits atop doors. So great to hear from Sharon again!