Local Doings

The blog has been on the back burner for a while. I have a couple of longer posts that need to be written, but for now, some local updates.

 

We had a scare regarding the barred owls. For a few days we saw the male bringing food (small snakes, fish, birds) to the nest, and waiting perplexedly outside. Barred owls and some others (screech owls) are highly specialized; the males hunt but the females tear up the prey and feed it to the chicks. Several times we saw the male enter the nest with a food item ... and later emerging still clutching the morsel. He's not wired to feed the babies. What had happened to mom?

Fortunately their normal activity resumed after a few days. Last week, during a very wet spell, I took these photos of the male sitting at the nest opening.

Whoooo are you?

Keeping an eye out.

We hope to see the youngsters, sooner or later, but their debut will not be announced ahead of time. It could be in the middle of the night!

 

The house across the street, an eye-pleasing brick two-story,

August 2019

acquired new owners last year. We saw signs of a plethora of interior updates, but never got a tour 😞. In the last two weeks the exterior was transformed, into white paint all over the brick.

In progress; plastic covers the windows.

The finished product ... click on the image to enlarge.

 

The house to our north sold for a very high price. The previous owners (the fourth set while we've been here) did interior reno so it remains to be seen if anything will happen there. The new management hasn't moved in yet -- we're a looong way from Arizona, and the movers can't seem to find their way.

The Owls are Back, 2022 edition.

 A pair of barred owls has taken up residence behind our house, as in previous years. We've heard their various vocalizations ("chimp call", "who cooks for you?", and others) and for the last few weeks have often spotted one or both, mostly around dawn and dusk. Crows are also a big tipoff; they love to harass owls en masse in daylight. Here are daytime two pics for you.

A dozing session.

Here's looking at you, kid!

Joan and I are hoping that owlets will emerge in the coming months from the sycamore nest cavity.

Fledgling Owls!

On the evening of May 21st or early morning of May 22nd two owlets fledged from their nest, located within a sycamore in the back yard between our house and the neighbors. (Owls are cavity nesters.) Joan spotted them and had to restrain herself from interrupting me on the bicycle rollers. As soon as I stopped, it was time to grab the camera and head outside.

The parent was observing from a small distance, less than the width of our yard from the youngsters.

One fledgling was larger than the other, but had chosen a slender tree and was barely 15 feet above the ground.

A more zoomed-in look.

Its smaller sibling had managed to climb a much larger ash tree, and was resting at least 3x higher.

A nice shot of it looking up.

Early the next morning Joan was excited to see the two parents engaged in grooming each other. By the time I got my camera they had taken a step apart, as if to say, "Nothing happening here."

With each successive morning the fledglings were higher/deeper in the woods. On the 25th we spotted a parent taking food to the large chick; we couldn't identify the prey item because the exchange was taking place on the far side of the tree.

It's been three years since we observed very young owlets, and even earlier one time the nest was predated in the middle of the night. What a howl we heard then! It makes this year's success all the more exciting.

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!

A Second Owl Family

A few afternoons ago, May 22nd, Joan entered the woods behind our house to track down young barred owl calls, expecting to discover one of the youngsters that we've been watching since May 3rd. Instead she discovered a much younger owl:

She called me out to see, and we realized that there were three young owls, two more clinging just above the first!

These were younger than the pair we had being seeing. Those owls were almost as big as their parents now, but these were still downy and large-eyed. I walked around the tree and zoomed in on the upper two for this photo.

If these were not the original chicks, as seems almost certain, then there is a second breeding pair of barred owls in our woods ... these chicks had not traveled far from their nest, nor would they for a few weeks. A second pair was not implausible; the Blacklick Woods Metro Park has three pairs this year. But it was certainly unexpected. Perhaps some of the chicks from 2009 or 2010 have set up housekeeping here in their birthplace? In any case, this would add up to nine owls (two sets of parents, and a total of five chicks) in our woods!

Joan and I were astonished, and thrilled. Our owl-watching season was suddenly extended. Then, not even half an hour later, I was called out to the deck. One the parents, being harassed by outraged robins, had decided to take a breather in the dogwood tree next to our deck.

When I mention outraged robins, I mean outraged. They are astonished and indignant that owls would dare be anywhere near their nests, and they must insist to the owls that their kind is not wanted, each and every day. Loudly. Repeatedly. That's how we know when to look for owls, by listening for upset robins (or, sometimes, crows). This robin is the one that dared get closest to this owl.

The barred owl was taking it easy in the dogwood. The foliage was dense enough that the robins couldn't execute a harassing high-speed flyby, and they dared not linger near the owl. Small birds can outmaneuver the owl, but if they become complacent, they become a tasty snack.

Often it was nap time. Our presence on the deck was of no concern, as long as we didn't make sudden moves or startling noises.

Sometimes he would look around.

Sometimes he would check for any action below him.

 He would let us approach within just a few feet.

Sometimes he would open a weary eye just to see if we were doing anything interesting.

 This was also a good time for grooming. Feet, for instance,

or feathers.

After a satisfying grooming session he looked twice as large. Airing the feathers out on a hot day must have felt oh-so-good.

Puffed or sleek, the feathers of the barred owl create a stunning combination of patterns within the limited, brown-and-white palette. The head is mottled, while the chest is streaked, and the wings and back form bands. As camouflage, it's perfect. We've seen a barred owl fly into a tree and then become invisible when his back melts into the bark.

May 22nd ... a red-letter day for owl watching.

Our Barred Owls, 2012

The barred owls that we have reported on before, including last year, are raising two chicks this spring. Earlier in the year, there were few photographic opportunities: the owls would make their calls ("Who cooks for you, who cooks for you-all?" and a chimpanzee-like "hoot-hoot-HOOT") at dusk or after dark. The first weekend in May more than compensated, because we got good looks at the two young owls just after they left the nest.

Joan discovered a toddler owl on the ground below the sycamore early on May 3rd. It looked bewildered, as would you or I after falling 20 to 30 feet from the nest. His/her coordination was lacking after spending a lifetime in a crowded tree cavity, and he/she could barely climb up on a large stick lying on the ground.

The parent was keeping a watchful eye out for any threats, and changed perches frequently.

The sibling began to peer out from the cavity an hour or so later.

The young owls have the instinct to climb, to get higher above the ground, even though they are yet incapable of flight. Flapping vigorously assists the effort made with beak and talons, however.

This chick ended up backwards, and several times we were sure he would soon lose his grip, fall, and join his brother on the ground.

He eventually fell back into the nest cavity instead.

The next morning we rushed downstairs to check on "our" owls. Overnight the second had joined the first a few feet above the ground, in a tiny sapling that offered no new heights to climb.

They squirmed on the sapling but didn't move to a new tree. Such maneuvers happen only overnight.

When we checked again a couple of hours later, the parent was visiting and grooming the children.

Then we departed for the weekend, but the first thing we did on our return Sunday afternoon was to go on an owl safari, to see if we could find them. The toddlers had clearly gained strength, as they were now much higher up, and each in a different tree. We located the first one quickly.

The second was hard to find, but we knew it would not have gone any distance, so we searched around the old location and around the parent, and discovered him cloistered in foliage.

We consider ourselves truly privileged to have observed these barred owls over the last three seasons.

A Weekend of Owls

Last weekend was one whose schedule was determined by owls. Not due to their traditional wisdom, but because we and our neighbors feel almost proprietary towards the barred owls that have nested nearby, and, fulfilling our hopes, we had fabulous opportunities to observe them, including at least one youngster, shifting our plans.

Our first hint that something unusual was happening was on Thursday or Friday, when one of the parents spent a long while perched in the pear tree not six feet from our kitchen window. Joan and I admired him, but I did not get a picture, being reluctant to step away.

On Saturday evening we realized why the parent had been loitering so close by, when Joan spotted a chick thirty feet up a tree. In this initial photo, taken at maximum zoom, he's just "resting his eyes." We alerted our neighbors, whipped out our binoculars, and we all were able to study his still-downy countenance as the light faded.

On Sunday morning, a parent was again in the pear tree. I was determined to get a picture; this snapshot has him facing away, but it shows how close he was, unconcerned about us.

Joan raised the blinds in the dining room to get a better look at the owl's face, and he responded by flying into the serviceberry that brushes against that window! (The following pictures were taken through the window.) First, an unretouched image, where the morning sunlight passing through the foliage gives everything, including the owl, a greenish glow. Our eyes could compensate for the color, but the camera cannot!

Here is a partially color-corrected image. The tinting from the sunlight wasn't a pure green, so it was difficult for me to reach a purely natural coloring through computer manipulation.

Here he is with a bit of zoom.

After several minutes of studying us he flew into the woods. We stepped outside, and saw that the chick was only a few feet from last night's position. At first, the youngster occupied himself by preening.

He soon became restless, however, and began flapping his wings and shifting his weight.

The chick did not have full powers of flight, but by flapping and hopping he could scoot along branches and jump to nearby trees.

At one point I sneezed, and the chick stared at me.

After a few seconds he lost interest, just as his parents would, and turned away.

About an hour and a half later a parent returned with a small fish hanging from its beak. It landed close to its offspring, and appeared to offer the treat, or at least to tantalize with it, but the chick never seized the food. This took place deeper in the woods than the earlier sightings, and thus was more obscured; Joan speculates that the parent was attempting to urge the chick into flight, to come after the fish. Eventually that parent flew away. Later a parent, possibly the same bird and possibly not, flew up to the chick: it is not known what was said.

The final owl story comes from our neighbors Dennis and Ilona. At some point in the last two weeks, a parent owl was sitting on the wren house in their back yard, facing the woods. This posture meant that the owl's tail feathers were obscuring the entrance to the wren house. Mama wren, not knowing just what the obstacle was, burst out of the house through the owl's tail. Whoops! She realized her proximity to beak and talons, and dove into ground cover.