Our backyard, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
Visiting our window feeder all March, we have had a flock-lette of house finches. The females are brown, with pretty speckled markings and lovely beak-y beaks. The males are similar, except they have been dipped by their feet into raspberry sauce: their faces, upper breasts and even sometimes their backs are red, which can look iridescent in the sunlight. They seem always to be in pairs and they have gotten increasingly bold as they have gotten used to the cat, who lunges at them behind the window glass and me, who tries to stand very still and watch them. (I sometimes suspect they tolerate me because they recognize the hand that feeds them.) They continue to flee at the sight of Augustine, who comes at the window like a three-year-old tsunami.
Also have seen (and heard, as I am definitely getting better at vocal identification) a pair of cardinals, the ever-present doves and a couple of small-ish mocking birds, those these seem to prefer the suet feeder a few yards over from ours. Happily, the sparrows, starling and (shudder) pigeons are still staying away.
Friday, April 3, 2009
April 1, 2009
Target parking lot, Queens, New York
Having been run out of our apartment by the sighting of a rat (no joke!), Augustine and I went to Target in Queens. We like to park on the very top of the parking garage, in order to enjoy the view. On our way out, we saw a flock of pigeons swirling about, seemingly of their own volition. Flying slightly outside the formation, one of the pigeons seemed larger and more graceful than the rest. We soon saw that it wasn't a pigeon; it was a hawk and that there were actually two of them: while one was flying around, the other flew up to and perched upon the top of roof-top flag pole of one of the nearby buildings.
This is not the first time I've seen hawks around flocks of pigeons, though it is slightly confusing to me: are they preying on the pigeons or not? It's like seeing wolves herd sheep, the way these hawks glide about with these pigeons. Perhaps they are making the pigeons feel comfortable, relaxed: I've heard that prey that has experienced fear before death doesn't taste as good; the fear makes the flesh bitter.
I still can't say for sure what sort of hawks these were; perhaps not hawks at all, but American Harrier? I didn't have my binoculars, of course, though with migration season starting, I am considering carrying them with me full-time.
Having been run out of our apartment by the sighting of a rat (no joke!), Augustine and I went to Target in Queens. We like to park on the very top of the parking garage, in order to enjoy the view. On our way out, we saw a flock of pigeons swirling about, seemingly of their own volition. Flying slightly outside the formation, one of the pigeons seemed larger and more graceful than the rest. We soon saw that it wasn't a pigeon; it was a hawk and that there were actually two of them: while one was flying around, the other flew up to and perched upon the top of roof-top flag pole of one of the nearby buildings.
This is not the first time I've seen hawks around flocks of pigeons, though it is slightly confusing to me: are they preying on the pigeons or not? It's like seeing wolves herd sheep, the way these hawks glide about with these pigeons. Perhaps they are making the pigeons feel comfortable, relaxed: I've heard that prey that has experienced fear before death doesn't taste as good; the fear makes the flesh bitter.
I still can't say for sure what sort of hawks these were; perhaps not hawks at all, but American Harrier? I didn't have my binoculars, of course, though with migration season starting, I am considering carrying them with me full-time.
Monday, March 2, 2009
March 2, 2009
Our backyard, Williamsburg, Brooklyn:
During the night, a late-winter snowstorm covered the backyard with about five powdery inches of snow. It must have been windy, since there is drift on the window screens, the roof of the window feeder and the suet cage. We were awoken by the calamitous but pointless attacks by our cat, Trout on the doves at the window feeder: a muscular leap which shakes the bed, followed by a dull thud as she hits the glass. It means there must really be nothing to eat, since the doves usually do not visit until later in the day.
As I re-fill the feeder, I notice a flock of about seven starlings huddled together on a chimney, which must be giving off warm smoke. I have never seen birds stay warm like that, in such a deliberate way. Later, I saw a lone pigeon (or maybe it was a dove, I didn't check) doing the same thing.
The juncoes are getting bolder about visiting the window feeder. This afternoon, a couple of males took turns eating the seed that had spilled under the feeder; one perched on the telephone wire, keeping watch, while the other ate, sounding a high, almost electronic, chirp at signs of danger. Or to remind the eater of the watcher's turn at the feeder.
During the night, a late-winter snowstorm covered the backyard with about five powdery inches of snow. It must have been windy, since there is drift on the window screens, the roof of the window feeder and the suet cage. We were awoken by the calamitous but pointless attacks by our cat, Trout on the doves at the window feeder: a muscular leap which shakes the bed, followed by a dull thud as she hits the glass. It means there must really be nothing to eat, since the doves usually do not visit until later in the day.
As I re-fill the feeder, I notice a flock of about seven starlings huddled together on a chimney, which must be giving off warm smoke. I have never seen birds stay warm like that, in such a deliberate way. Later, I saw a lone pigeon (or maybe it was a dove, I didn't check) doing the same thing.
The juncoes are getting bolder about visiting the window feeder. This afternoon, a couple of males took turns eating the seed that had spilled under the feeder; one perched on the telephone wire, keeping watch, while the other ate, sounding a high, almost electronic, chirp at signs of danger. Or to remind the eater of the watcher's turn at the feeder.
Friday, February 27, 2009
February 27, 2009 - approx. 10:30am
In McCarren Park, Williamsburg, Brooklyn, in the playground:
Aside from the usual pigeons, starlings and assorted sparrows, there was a flock of about 5 tufted titmice, a pair of whom appeared to be building a nest. The five were quite busy, flitting from branch to branch, pecking at bugs in the bark and peeling off bits of white paper or bark (?) for the nest. A few were very vocal, which is what attracted my attention to begin with.
As if the titmice were not an exciting enough spot, an American harrier appeared and perched first on the top of some playground equipment and then some low tree branches. It's appearance was heralded by the disappearance of pretty much all the other birds in the area. It did not seem to be actively hunting, as it ignored a couple of squirrels and some pigeons who were quite near it at times, but it did seem to be perching and scanning. Another mom in the playground who also saw it said that she had heard about the bird, so it must have taken up residence, if only for now. Perhaps it was the same bird who cleared out the backyard a couple of weeks ago?
Aside from the usual pigeons, starlings and assorted sparrows, there was a flock of about 5 tufted titmice, a pair of whom appeared to be building a nest. The five were quite busy, flitting from branch to branch, pecking at bugs in the bark and peeling off bits of white paper or bark (?) for the nest. A few were very vocal, which is what attracted my attention to begin with.
As if the titmice were not an exciting enough spot, an American harrier appeared and perched first on the top of some playground equipment and then some low tree branches. It's appearance was heralded by the disappearance of pretty much all the other birds in the area. It did not seem to be actively hunting, as it ignored a couple of squirrels and some pigeons who were quite near it at times, but it did seem to be perching and scanning. Another mom in the playground who also saw it said that she had heard about the bird, so it must have taken up residence, if only for now. Perhaps it was the same bird who cleared out the backyard a couple of weeks ago?
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