Where are the Owls? And ...

Owls
You may be wondering why you haven't heard about the barred owls that nested behind our house in 2009, 2010, 2011, and 2012. Here's a photo from 2012.

There's a mystery behind the silence. At first everything appeared to be proceeding normally, if late because of our cold spring (the winter that would never end). We heard and saw the owls, and occasionally glimpsed them visiting or nearby to the sycamore that they have always nested in.

Crows were building a nest just two houses north of the owls, and we didn't expect that to work out; one year the owls trashed a crow nest that was further away. Owls and crows don't get along. But it surprised us when a pair of red-shouldered hawks evicted the crows and took over the nest -- we started seeing red-shouldered hawks here only last year. We doubted that the owls and hawks would be comfortable so close to one another.

Then events happened so rapidly that we're at a loss as to cause and effect. Before we went to the Arc of Appalachia Wildflower Pilgrimage, there was an overnight thunderstorm. Also, we were awakened dramatically early one morning by both owls blasting their entire repertoire of hoots, calls, and cries at full volume. They sounded as if they were just outside our window, certainly in front of the house, a location they've never perched in before, and they were loud enough to jar us awake over the drone of an air purifier. At some point in the next few days we noticed that the crow/hawk nest was damaged, with sticks dangling, and no hawk was sitting in it any more. Was this thunderstorm damage? A midnight raid from the owls? An egg predator?

As the days continued to pass we saw less of our owls. Then we saw a squirrel entering that cavity, a sign that the owls weren't occupying it. Had there been predation that had affected both the owl and crow/hawk nest? Had whatever supported the owl nest within the chimney of the sycamore collapsed?

We hear the owls at most once a week now, and were granted only one good viewing after the turmoil. Our wish is that they will nest in that sycamore again next year, but we can only wait and see. The red-shouldered hawks continue to visit the neighborhood, but they're obviously not nesting here either.

Bats
The annual visit from little brown bats repeated in 2013. There's a spot under the top step of the deck where, each spring, a little brown bat begins to spend the daylight hours. Check again the next day and there's two. After a while there's half a dozen or even ten. Here's the gang from 2009:

After a few weeks they move on. This year, they left May 19th. Our guess is that we're hosting a hunting camp, and when it's time to start families, a better bat roost is required. 

Phoebes
The phoebes nested on the little platform under our deck this year. They don't stay with us every year, but this is one of them. This cheers us up in the absence of the owls. In earlier years we've seen little heads poking up over the edge of the nest. This time they appear to have only one chick. Here is a long-zoom view; if you approach too closely, phoebe chicks are liable to burst out of the nest even if they aren't ready yet.

The phoebe chick fledged on May 20th, and we've seen it flying in close pursuit of a parent ... begging to be fed and learning to hunt, no doubt.

Hummingbirds
The hummingbirds were also delayed by the long, cold spring. We saw our first hummer on May 9th, the latest since we began writing it down on the calendar. The previous latest arrival was May 5th, in 2005. These aren't scientific observations, but we do write it down when we see the first one. So far we have seen only the females, which is unusual.

Chimney Swifts
Chimney swifts are also regular guests. Their chittering and swooping flight makes even the most stoic person think, That must be fun. When they dive into and burst out of our chimney, we hear a "foop!" in the living room.

Tree Frog
He wasn't a bird, but we also had a visit from a gray tree frog. There had been a loud noise we couldn't identify until Joan spotted this fellow resting on our deck railing. He's really rather small ... note the nail head to the left ... but this photo shows his inflated voice sac. (Click on the photo to enlarge).

He turned out to be very relaxed, even when I opened the door (gently) and stepped closer (slowly) to snap his portrait. He has changed into his grey phase to match the deck.

He's living somewhere in the bushes next to the deck. We often hear him, but have seen him only this once.

That's our state of the spring report!