Just Plain Adorable

Day 84: No matter how dreary the day (and believe me, they've been pretty dismal for the last couple of weeks), it is impossible to be glum when you have Chickadees around. I have to admit to a fondness for birbs (little round birds) of all sorts: chickadees, nuthatches, bushtits, titmouses (titmice?), kinglets, siskins, wrens, creepers, and even warblers, although the "wobblers" annoy me because all too often I can only hear and not see them, but 'dee-dees hold a special place in my heart because they're so friendly. It took me years to coax them into my yard, but once they'd established themselves and claimed their territory, it wasn't long before I literally had them eating out of my hand. They made themselves rather scarce during the summer months, but once cooler weather arrived, both Black-capped and Chestnut-backed (above) returned to the yard in droves. Some remembered me from years past and immediately took seed from my palm, although the newbies in the group held back, waiting to see if I was a bird-getter. To date, we have not had snow, but I'm hopeful because food scarcity tends to make bold even the most timid 'dee.

Feathered Family

Day 62: I hope that you, dear readers, never tire of bird-in-the-hand, because I certainly won't. It has taken many years to come to this point, first to create enough enticing habitat in my yard to lure the Chickadees over from the brush line across the road, and second, to establish the degree of trust necessary to have them accept food from my hand. These days when I step off the back porch, it's not uncommon to have a Chestnut-backed Chickadee (left) skim my hair or land on my shoulder as I walk out to the feeders. The Black-capped Chickadees (right) are more wary and wait until I'm in position, standing as still as a statue with my pal outstretched. I can maintain the pose up to twenty minutes, as I often did when we were first becoming acquainted, but now neither species is particularly disturbed by slight motion. Talk about your "feathered friends" if you will. I have feathered family.

Spot The Differences

 

Day 32: We have another milestone! The birders among my readership will have a distinct advantage over the rest of you in this game of "Spot the Differences" when I say that two of these objects are not like the others. Yes, today I made inroads with the Black-capped Chickadees after a trip to the grocery store meant that second breakfast was late. They mobbed me when I got home, trying to get at the seed in the coffee can I was carrying, attaching themselves to the front of my shirt and my sleeves, dive-bombing my hair. It had been a cold night, and they were convinced they were starving. The bulk of the welcoming committee was of course Chestnut-backed, but I was pleasantly surprised when two Black-cappeds, one right after the other, also accepted food from my fingers despite the fact that I was holding the shiny silver scary thing in my other hand. Even so, I got the requisite documentation. Can you spot the Black-cappeds in the crowd?

'Dee-dee Season

 

Day 27: Although most of them are still shy about taking food from my hand, I strongly suspect that this 'dee-dee (Chestnut-backed Chickadee, Poecile rufescens) is a returnee with a good memory. He was perfectly content to sit there cracking seeds, and in fact wedged one in the crack between my fingers and proceeded to try to pound it open with his beak. It was all I could do not to wince or laugh as he drove the seed further and further into the gap. I can't say for sure whether he pushed it all the way through or not because I had my eyes averted (most critters view eye contact as a threat). As a sidebar here, I will say that I'm making progress with the Nuthatch. He is not yet confident, but flew to the hand close enough that a wing brushed my fingers. I've also had one Black-Capped Chickadee take food from my palm this fall. They are somewhat more shy than the Chessies about making contact.

The Sorter

Day 52: This is the Sorter. The Sorter's job is to ensure that only the very best and heaviest seeds remain in my hand. His technique is simple. He buries his beak in the pile, gives a quick shake of his head, throwing all the lightweight seeds and chaff onto the ground below. Once the pile has been reduced to seven or eight prime candidates, he selects one and takes it to the contorted filbert, there to spend several minutes in enjoyment of his meal. By that time, a few of his companions will have come in to take their pick of the leftovers, and I will refill my hand so that the Sorter can continue his work. If he has not yet returned from his lunch break, Sorter #2 takes the next shift. There's no shortage of staff in this workplace!

Population Explosion

Day 44: They say you should be careful what you wish for. There was a time when I had no Chickadees in my yard. A few years back, one paid a very brief visit and I was utterly overjoyed. Of course having the contorted filbert to provide them a safe zone was probably a major factor, but it wasn't long before I had two 'dee-dees, then three, then half a dozen. For the last two years (maybe three), the Chestnut-Backed have been more than willing to sit in the palm of my hand to enjoy their lunch. The Black-Cappeds aren't as brave. Brave? Brazen is a better word for the Chessies. Just now as I went out to take this photo, one landed on the clothesline across the back steps, a mere six inches from my face. And cussed me out for being slow with the food! This year, the population has exploded. I must have at least three dozen, and the chorus of "Dee-dee-dee! Dee-dee-dee!" is almost deafening when they all come at once and begin clamouring for seed. What music it is to my spirit, this chorus sung by my winter friends!

Chestnut-backed Chickadee, Poecile Rufescens

Day 218: For years, I was jealous of photographers who captured images of chickadees sitting on peoples' hands, perching on a camera lens, taking seeds daintily from someone's fingers. For that matter, I was jealous of people who could get close to chickadees anywhere, let alone make personal contact. I had chickadees galore in the shrubbery opposite my home, on the other side of the road, but none ever seemed to venture into my yard. I planted bushes and trees to provide better habitat for them, and my efforts were finally rewarded a few years ago when the first Chestnut-backed Chickadees showed up, two of them, and as it turned out, they were a pair. My yard population grew. Then one day, I spotted a Black-capped Chickadee in the contorted filbert. I was overjoyed. After a close approach by one of the Chessies, I decided to hold Chickadee Training to see if I could get one to accept seed from my hand. It happened quicker than I had any right to expect, and soon I had them arguing over who got to sit in my palm, who had to remain on my wrist, and who got to go down inside the canful of seeds under my arm to eat in leisure. But being a scientist, I couldn't help but notice one important thing: the birds who were most comfortable with me were almost all Chessies. The Black-capped 'dees would fly in as if they were going to land on my outstretched hand, but almost invariably decided to retreat to the safety of the filbert. Some would occasionally perch on the feeder beside me, but on the rare times one of them would perch on my palm, the contact lasted only a few seconds. On the flip side, the Chessies would let me walk around while carrying them, and sometimes I'd have to hoist one out of the can if I wanted to go back inside. This raises a question I will probably never be able to answer: Why is one species shy and the other friendly? What pressures could have resulted in such different behaviours in two very similar birds?

'Dee In The Tree

Day 84: The season of Elf on a Shelf is done and dusted. Now we have 'Dee in a Tree. Imagine, if you will, that you are a hawk circling overhead in the hopes of finding a quick breakfast. Your eyesight is particularly keen and your perception of colour far exceeds that of humans. Do you think you'd spot the 'dee in the tree, garbed as he is in hues which imitate not only light and shadow, but the warm brown of catkins and bark? The Dee in the Tree is a master of disguise. He's also a master of concealment. Perched in the tangle of the contorted filbert, from above he would appear as one more blob of snow caught in the branches. Should a perceptive hawk discern his camouflage, he can always retreat into the deeper maze of branches for protection. Our little Chickadee friend is cautious nevertheless, only making quick forays to the feeder, returning to the sanctuary of twigs to dine at his leisure. Today, the hawk will go wanting unless a foolish mouse goes out snowshoeing at a time when all wise rodents should be in their dens.

Yard Birds

Day 205: I don't want to bore my readers with too many posts of my sketching attempts, but on the other hand, I'm rather proud of what I've accomplished with the help of "Laws Guide to Drawing Birds." Each of these was based on a photo I've taken of the respective species: American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis, formerly Carduelis), Chestnut-backed Chickadee (Poecile rufescens), Purple Finch (Haemorhous purpureus), Pine Siskin (Spinus pinus). In the case of the female Purple Finch, I changed up the background to reflect a behaviour I observed recently. Several Purps settled in on my blueberry bushes in late afternoon and began plucking the blossoms! Cornell advises that they consume nectar by biting the base of the flower. The bushes are now netted and outfitted with mylar ribbon, and now I understand why I didn't get many blueberries last year. The drawings were executed in a combination of ink and coloured pencil, and the wing detail in the Pine Siskin was a real challenge to maintain.

Recommended By Experts

Day 52: Day before yesterday, I received an early Christmas present in the mail with no clue as to the sender save for the return address of the bookseller, but that was a dead give-away. I immediately sat down and wrote Arnie a letter of thanks. The arrival of the book was remarkably timely; I had been eyeing the ads for it in Scientific American and was very close to ordering it for myself because...well, because you just can't go wrong when David Sibley is talking about birds. His expertise is only surpassed by that of the birds themselves and, such being the case, I thought I'd put it to the ultimate expert for final approval. A bribe of a few sunflower seeds was all it took. "What It's Like To Be A Bird" has the official Beak of Approval from Mr. Dee.

He's On...In The Can

 

 

Day 45: "I'm sorry, Mr. Dee can't speak with you at the moment. He's in the can." The phrase takes on a whole new meaning in my yard (indeed, perhaps a better one than the original vernacular). Not only do they take food from my hand, but if my open palm is already occupied, the braver souls have no compunctions about landing on the rim of the can or even getting down inside to select their lunch. I have to admit I'm spoiling them rotten. I usually only put a cup of seed in the feeder at any given time to prevent the blackbirds from hogging it all, so as soon as I notice that the 'dee-dees are scrabbling for the last bites, I go out to refill it. This also gives me the opportunity to continue hand-training...or can-training, as the case may be...but the Nuthatch still has reservations. He will land on the feeder inches from my elbow but has yet to dare the hand. He's hovered above it a couple of times as if testing the waters, but has yet to actually touch down. The 'dees have no such compunctions; in face, they compete for first rights, one bird pushing another off in order to land. Sometimes I offer "lazy seeds," i.e., hulled sunflower seed sold for human consumption. Nothing is too good for my little 'dee-dee friends!

'Dee-deelightful!

Day 358: These are not all photos of the same individual bird. It might be hard to tell chickadees apart from one another, but there was strong competition for that handful of seed, one landing on my fingers in a flutter of feathers which knocked another one off my palm and into flight. I had accidentally let the feeders go almost empty (the little critters are gobbling as much as two full large coffee cans every day!), so I made a personal offer before loading it up again. They practically swarmed me as the hummingbirds do when I'm trying to replace their sugar-nectar. If there is one good thing to say about 2020, it's that I've made new friends...LOTS of new friends!

'Dee-dee Training

Day 351: After having a 'Dee-dee sit on my hand for thirty seconds while sorting through the black-oil seed to find the Perfect Seed (and discarding every other one, I might add), I decided it was time to take it to the next level. There were a few considerations I felt might cause the experiment to fail: one, that they normally eat out of my right hand, and two, that I would have to use my flunky little Sony point-and-shoot because I can't operate my "real" camera one-handed. Using a tripod was out of the question. The 'dee-dees would surely be frightened by it. As it turned out, my little friend here was very cooperative, not only staying in place long enough for me to get several photos, but coming back for seconds. I now know for certain that I have at least two 'dees who will come to my hand, having twice witnessed the second bird's arrival just as the first flew away. Meanwhile, the Nuthatch is becoming curious, sometimes hanging upside-down from the feeder to my left as the 'dees bravely perch on my thumb. So far in my life, my wild avian contacts include Grey Jays (unavoidable if you spend any time in the backcountry), a hummingbird who helped me water the garden by alighting on the hand holding the spray nozzle, Pine Siskins, and Chestnut-Backed Chickadees (no Black-Capped yet). A Nuthatch would be a real coup!

Feeder Frenzy

 

Day 342: It's a madhouse out there! The hummer feeders out front are being swarmed by beautiful little Anna's, and the feeders (three) in the side yard have a constant stream of Chickadees (both Black-Capped and Chestnut-Backed, Nuthatches and that arrogant little Townsend Chipmunk who simply will NOT go in the live trap no matter what I use for bait. That said, no one seems to mind sharing. 'Dees of both species come together, the Nuthatch (possibly plural) sits side-by-side with either, and if Townsend is in town, the birds take the side opposite him. Sometimes he crawls inside to dine, the birds pecking away at the seeds he scatters out into the tray even as he scrabbles around in the interior. In the calmer moments, the sparrows, towhees, jays and juncos may also visit, although presently, they seem to be content to clean up what falls to the ground. Interim guests may include Red-Winged Blackbirds and Mourning Doves. The photos above were all taken within a ten-minute time frame: top left, Townsend; top right lower, Black-Capped Chickadee and upper, Chestnut-Backed; lower left, Red-Breasted Nuthatch; lower right, Townsend and Nuthatch. Everybody likes black-oil seed, and they're sure there's an unlimited supply at Café Crow.

I'm The Baby, Gotta Love Me

Day 133: They're getting braver, particularly the Chessies. I'd gone out to add birdseed to the feeders following my usual pattern: half the small seed in the nearest box, the remainder of the small seed in the farthest box and, using the same measuring cup, a scoop of black-oil seed on top of that, but in the amount of time it took to fill the cup with the sunflower seed and entirely unbeknownst to me, one of the 'dee-dees had already dived in. As I went to tip the cup into the tray, my little friend burst out the other side, indignant at having a hand interrupt his breakfast. He sat in the contorted filbert, scolding me while I filled the rest of the feeders, although his many companions who had not been personally affronted by my invasion flocked around me as I filled the rest of the feeders. With the exception of the Porch Parrots who will always be my favourites, I am more thrilled to have Chickadees than any other species of bird which visits my yard. It only took thirty years to entice them here from across the road...three decades, that's all. I think I'm justified in posting yet another Chickadee photo.

Chessie

Day 106: They say you should be careful what you wish for. I have absolutely no regrets with respect to wishing that chickadees would discover my feeders. Today, the contorted filbert's twisted branches are populated with a dozen or more in a single flavour: Chestnut-Backed. Yesterday, an equivalent swarm of Black-Capped dominated the census. Some days, the two species dine together. What governs the 'Dee-dee demographic? I'd love to know. As yet, I've had no Kinglets, neither Ruby-Crowned or Golden-Crowned, but that brings another question to my mind: does each kinglet species pair with a type of chickadee, for example Golden-Crowned with Chestnut-Backed? I haven't paid attention to their associations when I've observed them in the forests. I'm embarrassed to admit that I've been too preoccupied with trying to catch one in a photographic "trap" to make any scientific observations. Perhaps now that I'm swamped with resident chickadees, I'll be more keen in studying the behaviour of their wild counterparts.

Pair O' Dees

Day 64: They say you should be careful of what you wish for, but I have no regrets about having wished for chickadees in my yard even though it's made walking out to the feeders rather dangerous. I thought the hummers were bad, zooming around my head, threatening to poke me in the ear or in the eye, needling me with their little beakies in anticipation, but now I have to walk through a veritable cloud of chickadees, wings all a-flutter, chattering "Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" or "Tzick-a-dee-dee!" depending on species. Oh yes, I have two kinds, Black-capped (Poecile atricapillus, left) and Chestnut-backed (Poecile rufescens, right), and probably a few intergrades as well...dozens, DOZENS! of 'dee-dees in the contorted filbert and Japanese maple (not so much the dogwood...wonder why?). Given this auspicious turn of events after a thirty-year void, I suspect it won't be long before the Kinglets show up as well, Golden-crowned and Ruby-crowned groupies who follow the 'dee-dee concert everywhere.

Two Kinds Are Better Than One

Day 43: Two years ago, I was lamenting the perpetual lack of Chickadees of any sort in my yard. Oh, I saw them in the brush line just across the road, but they never came to my feeders. Then in January 2018, I spotted one in the contorted filbert, and it was soon followed by another. I kept my fingers crossed that they were a breeding pair, but with Chickadees, you can't tell. A third showed up somewhat later in the year. All three belonged to the same species: Black-Capped (Poecile atricapillus). They hung around throughout the year, apparently having deemed the habitat suitable for their needs. About two weeks ago, I was standing in my living room looking out the window and a 'dee-dee landed on the shepherd's hook closest to the glass. I did a classic double-take. "That's a chessie!" I said, and just that fast, Poecile rufescens (Chestnut-Backed) took off. Now it seems that consistent availability of choice food (black-oil sunflower seed) has made headlines in the Chickadee Times. I am suddenly besieged by 'dees! At times yesterday, there must have been at least a dozen darting between the feeders and the shrubbery. One chessie allowed me to get within inches of him when I filled the feeders. Species were split more or less equally, and although obviously I can't identify individual birds, I am simply overjoyed to have my very own flock of happy little 'dee-dees "dee-dee-dee-ing" when I step out onto the porch.

Grateful For What I Am Given

Day 110: The photo leaves something to be desired, but I am grateful for what I am given. This is the best shot of a Chestnut-Backed Chickadee (Poecile rufescens) I have achieved to date. In my haste to catch him in profile, I focused on the branch rather than the bird.

Chickadees of any sort always seem to elude me. I hear them. I see them darting in amongst thickets and scrub, but I can never get a clear picture. To hear other people talk about them, you would get the impression that they regularly eat out of peoples' hands. In my experience, I've noted them as shy and reclusive. This little fellow hung around the high point in Pack Forest only long enough for three back view poses and this image before he flew off down-valley singing, "Chick-a-dee-dee-dee, you can't catch meeeeee!"