Christmas 2009 -- big birds

Oh, is it hard to climb back into the everyday world. I find that holidays or other special times put one into an alternate universe with a different cast of characters and events. Difficult to come down. So I'll edge into my reports with a look at some of the local big birds photographed by my dotter, the Gdotter and a handful by meself. (Did I mention that my camera is broken and I spent the holidays naked, begging cameras (and downloads) left and right? Said machine is currently in the presumably expert hands of Best Buy's Geek Squad for an overhaul.)

Watson Lake is home to Canada geese overwintering in a warmer climate...

...while this golden eye is one of many ducks hanging out at Lynx Lake. Below: here are some of the others flocking there where the handouts are plentiful. Show up at the edge of the lake and a swarm of birds heads your way, quacking and honking their willingness to share any goodies you might offer.

The three geese at Lynx are particularly aggressive. I would guess that the pair above are escapees from someone's farmyard. They are ready to peck any little kid who doesn't come equipped with food. We made sure the Gdotter was prepared.

Meanwhile, while on a hike on the Peavine Trail, the dotter managed to catch an elusive road runner (above) and some variety of hawk in a tree (below).

My one decent hawk shot was taken out the Ferguson Valley Road. A harrier, the bird quickly left the tree and flew low over the fields to land on a power pole where the 8-year old Gdotter got the best take. (Tip: for a proper afternoon of hawk birding, there's nothing like a trip north on SR89 north of Chino Valley where every other pole is the roost for a raptor of some sort.)

And, wrapping up this first post of the New Year, good news about the old cottonwood tree down by the Skull Valley Wash near Kirkland. There's a new hawk's nest, replacing the old one that disappeared a year or so ago. I even caught a glimpse of a hawk up on the hillside who might be this year's occupant. The new quarters aren't as big as the previous nest, but will probably grow in time. The old nest was many years old.

Gotcha!

If you look closely at the scrub jay above, you'll note 1) a small patch of blue and 2) the color fringe that's a dead giveaway that I pushed the zoom past its optical limit. However, the news is that I actually got a nearly passable picture of the elusive jaybird. Perhaps if I had a feeder, like my SIL had up in Flag, where the Steller's jays congregated, I might be able to do better. As it is, there are several of these guys living near my house, but if I spot one and make the least move, such as peering through a camera, he's gone in a flash. So I'm half-way happy with this picture.

So why can't a blue jay be more like a spider, huh? Spider sits in my bathroom wash basin and I click away. I guess that my future is as an arachnid portrait artist.

Would a self-respecting bird...

...make its home in one of these kitschy items? Actually, I doubt that a smart bird would concern her/himself about whether or not the potential house met our standards of good taste. More important matters -- water proof? warm? roomy? Safe from marauders?

Woodpecker woodwork

If you look very closely, you may note a hole in the decorative wood tiles on a neighbor's house. Up toward the peak, in the darkest shade. That's why I didn't really welcome the inspection of my woodwork recently made by the cute little woodpecker below.

Here are closer views of the sort of destruction that birds can wreak. BTW, I thought maybe those small holes might contain acorns; that that doesn't appear to be the case.

The woodwork on another neighbor's house has also yielded to busy beaks. Curiously enough, that single hole is so carefully placed that I did not notice it when I first opened the picture. I guess my eyes just assumed that the hole was part of the decorative scheme. Here's a final question: I've read that acorn woodpecker colonies maintain collective nests. Do you suppose that the neat round hole is merely an entrance into a wide open attic space for several birds to develop homes? I'll have to maintain a watch.

Critters at my window

Actually, I had planned to blog about the end of the farmers' market season... or perhaps the wonderful contraptions over at the transportation building at the Sharlot Hall Museum... or possibly my favorite leather craftsman who makes gun belts. Those plans were, however, short circuited when I heard the raspy voices of a acorn woodpecker or two. Very close by.

Looking out my 2nd floor office window at the ledge just below, lo and behold, a pair of birds plus a third that took off. The second fellow skedaddled while I fetched up my camera, but I did manage to get two fairly decent shots of the remaining critter at close range. I just hope these guys aren't real estate prospecting -- don't need any holes in my house, like they've pecked out in others in the neighborhood. Look what they do to trees where they store their acorns.

My good luck continued, as I looked out the window while eating supper. There outside the window, with a sunset backdrop, was a large spider climbing up her guy line, swinging back and forth in the breeze. She didn't make very good headway and thus was still available for a portrait when I had retrieved the camera from office. Wonder if she'll be around come Halloween...

Still More Links: Great stuff from two of my favorite bloggers this weekend. Catalyst was busy, visiting both the County Fair and the Folk Music Festival; Warren down in Tucson took plenty of pictures of lighted art in the desert night at Glow 2009-- three posts in all, keep scrolling down. Another site of interest to those of us living in or near the woods: Wildland Fire, home of the wildland firefighter. Next, turn your sights up far into the sky: USA Today has posted a clever flash video showing the International. Space lab and how it has grown, element by element.Last but not least, a treasure trove of Mickey Mouse shorts.

Sunflower gold for the goldfinches

Recall the lesser goldfinches inhabiting the seedbags, posted last week? In nature, the same goldfinches would be swarming that prolific sunflower bush in a couple of weeks once the flowers give way to seeds.

By the way, here are the same seedbag feedbags with a full complement of 21 hungry birds. My thanks to Bob for sharing this photo.

Pet lovebirds fly free in Phoenix

Move over, starling. Fly away, rock dove (pigeon). Make way for a more colorful newer exotic invader -- the peach-faced lovebird. Imported for the pet trade, this native of the SW African desert has escaped into the wilds of Scottsdale and other eastern parts of the greater Phoenix area. Saguaro cactus nesting holes and the fruits and seeds of native Arizona plants suit these little fellows just fine, though they also emjoy the usual feeder grub.

According to one website, Phoenix lovebird flocks may number in the low thousands. 1998 was the first year they were noticed in the Arizona wild. While the same birds are surviving in chilly Scotland and have been seen in Albuquerque at 6200 ft., none have as yet been reported near Prescott. On a tracking map of sightings, the furthest north for the birds at this point is New River. Perhaps it's the easy life that's keeping them in a city where feeding birds is a favorite pastime.

One woman from Moon Valley reported to the lovebird site that they love to play games. Once all eight was swinging on my clothesline making a game out of it. The other day three of them got on the chicken coop roof. It is tin. They would get on the peak and slide down, then go up to the top and slide down again. They usually play games about 10 minutes at a time. Just by the way, I knew nothing about the lovebird invasion before I received these pictures taken by friend Bob down in Scottsdale last week.

Linkage: I found an interesting on-line magazine, New Geography, dealing with demography, city and suburban areas, and other aspects of living on the land. Another site of interest gives an eerie look at military ghost towns in Russia. And speaking of abandonment (if only temporary), take a look at the huge fleet of container ships at anchor east of Singapore.

Shy ones

Friend Patty is a friend to animals of all kinds, which means that she indulges them with all manner of feeders. As we left her house after yesterday's game of Scrabble, these seed bags were covered with little guys. By the time I had my camera in shooting position, there were none. But I waited them out. Slowly, they began to return -- the goodies were irresistible. By my first shot, there were three of the little fellows -- all watching me quite careully.

Soon another joined -- and one, satisfied that the giant wasn't about to attack, began to eat.

Most of the birds were ready for food by the time another pair arrived.

A total of seven birds had returned to the feeding bags when I decided to call it quits. I suppose that if I really want to take pictures of birds, I will have to get into the feeder business. Which sort of defeats the purpose of my long zoom lens, which was to enable my camera to see into the trees and underbrush where birds hang out. It doesn't -- the dang camera carefully focuses on the branches and twigs in front of any birds I espy. Besides, I already have one demanding pet to take care of. And, no, I'm not going to burden myself carrying all that glass of a a DSLR.

Linkage: Sometimes you really have to admire grumpy folk with a fine sense of irony. Boonie, for instance, who essays an essay on forest fires as a way to fight an economic depression. One of my recent posts about trees at the ridgeline got a mention in the most recent Festival of the Trees over at Arboreality (I love that name!); the theme for this blog carnival is secrets in and of the forest. And, on the subject of festivals, I came across a URL for the Prescott Film Festival (which is a effort that I don't quite understand. Besides, I always thought that a proper Prescott Film Festival would consist of a week-long celebration of yesterday's westerns.)

When the swallows come back to...Safeway

Guess that phrase above is nowhere as lyrics. Besides, der Bingle is long gone. However, this was my wonderful surprise today when I went shopping for deli meats and cheese to feed the Sson and family who arrive from Louisiana any moment now. It's a colony of swallows who've moved into the twin peaks at the front of the Safeway building on Willow Creek Road. Directly overhead, BTW; those nests are snuggled way up against the ceiling at the point where it meets the wall. Guaranteed to produce a crick in one's neck after a short photo shoot.

See that little guy to the left (above)? He/she is working on another nest (below, right). Amazing that the swallows can produce enough spit to hold all those little mud balls in place.

I lucked out, catching this image of a swallow about to land. At first I wondered that the great big corporation was allowing a handful of wild critters to make homes in the overhead nooks and crannies, then realized that Jay's Bird Barn is practically cheek by jowel to Safeway. I'm sure Erik is encouraging the manager to let the birds nest. In fact, the company deserves a big loud thank-you from us all!

Lynx Lake breakfast #2

The Thursday morning breakfast crew went back to the Lynx Lake Restaurant this morning. Glad that we did, too -- I was able to reshoot a pair of pictures.

One retake was the mounted bobcat in the act of catching prey. The javelina and deer from the previous visit were acceptable...

...but the ghostly buck, light by a window below, is today's image.

The mounted trophies -- and this elaborate hearth -- emphasize that the restaurant is operated by a couple from Germany, as does the whatnot cabinet below. I've got a date set up for a German dinner next weekend. As a Chicagoan, I've missed food with a mittel Europa flavor here in the west, where the exotic comes from Asia and Mexican food is mainstream..

However, the big news is that the restaurant's humming bird feeders are now filled with sugar water and customers are showing up. I could sit by the window all morning just watching those ferocious little birds. There were no battles this morning; the reason, I was told, is that the feistiest species hasn't arrived back from the south as yet.