House Finches, the First Day of Summer, and Baseball

Finally got a decent photo of the male House Finch, seen here with his mate.

Today is the first day of Summer and I awoke this morning to the song of House Finches.  This couple (I assume it's the same couple -- I frequently see them together and never see more than one of each gender at a time) have been around since late winter/early Spring although I've been seeing a lot more of them in the last couple of weeks.  The female has posed for some good pictures but the male continues to be very elusive.  This morning I saw them eating on the rail of my deck -- food that I put out for our resident (and slightly mentally handicapped, I believe) pigeon Timmy.  Juncos, Sparrows, Starlings and the occasional crow also stop by to sample Timmy's food, but this is the first time I've seen the Finches there. 

The guides say that House Finches are only seen individually during nesting season, and that other times they tend to form large flocks.  I haven't seen any flocks, just this couple, who have been around most of the Spring.  But I also haven't seen any fledglings, and I was thinking that it must be late in the season for nesting.  But my naturalist friend, Kevin, assures me that it's still very much nesting season for House Finches.  "Sometimes they get a late start and may not have fledglings until the middle of July," he says, "or they get an early start and raise two broods of young in one season.  Keep your eyes peeled because you still may see some fledglings before the summer is over!"

I will definitely be watching.

Her Majesty, Lulubelle, enjoys the sun and watches for rats on the first day of summer.

I started this blog a little over two months ago (it seems much longer) at the beginning of a spring that has been unusually wet and cool here.  We are still well below our average temperatures in Seattle (today it's going to get up to a lovely 75, but it's not going to last --  tomorrow the drizzle comes back).  These conditions are creating all kinds of problems.  Today on the news I heard that the state's strawberry crop is delayed and may be the latest crop in many years.  Here at home my own garden has grown much slower than anticipated and my plans to outfit my yard for hummingbirds this year might have to wait.  

Also, there have been an unusual number of bear sightings in the suburbs -- it's been going on for a couple of years but this year it seems even worse.  Part of the problem is that the edges of the Greater Puget sound urban sprawl are pushing further and further into the greenbelt areas that the bears depend on.  But part of the problem also is the unusually cool weather which has retarded the food sources at higher altitudes and the hungry spring bears are coming down into the inhabited areas to look for food. That often ends badly for the bear.

I hope to bring you more about the bears in the near future.

Back in my first post I featured rats, starlings and Flickers.  They're all still here.  I haven't seen the Flickers as much lately and they've stopped their incessant banging on the side of the house in the mornings.  But I hear them frequently, especially early in the day. 

The rats are still here, and multiplying.

 The rat is not only still here, but now there are several smaller rats around as well.  Obviously, reproduction has occurred.  The rats seem quite comfortable in the yard, although my dog Lulubelle, true to her terrier ancestry, keeps a close eye on them and lets them know if they get out of line.  (I don't know what the "rules" are for the rats, but Lulubelle does.  She's a very rule oriented girl.)

Starlings in their shimmering summer colors

 And the starlings, of course, are still here too.  They've gone from their brown, brightly spotted winter colors to their resplendent summer iridescent purple and green.  That's because earlier in the year their new feathers are growing in, the white tips of which give them the white spots.  Now the tips have worn away, and their spring and summer colors shimmer.  All About Birds says this unusual way of changing colors is called "wear molt".  

 

 

Ichiro is hitting again and the Mariners are in contention.  What a great way to start summer.

Today -- the first day of Summer -- we are just enjoying the sunshine, watching the birds, waiting for the baseball game to start. (The Seattle Mariners-- who took two games out of three this weekend from the Phillies, the best team in baseball right now --  are in DC today, playing the Washington Nationals, and are one game out of first. Who could have predicted that?) (They lost, giving away a four run lead in the ninth inning -- but it was still a good day.)

And, of course, all of us are hoping for more good weather.

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Birdland West readers will be interested in my review of Feathers: The Evolution of a Natural Miracle by Thor Hanson, which is posted now at Books and Beasts.   It's a great book and a must read for all bird lovers.  Check out the review here.

 (Many of the original photographs featured on Birdland West are available for sale as art quality prints.  You can check out all of our offerings at http://AlexWashoe.imagekind.com.  If you see an image here that does not show up on our Imagekind site please contact me directly and I'll let you know about availability.)

The Invaders (Part Three of Three)

The third entry in our environmental "Axis of Evil" goes by many names.  The Brown Rat, the Wharf Rat, the Common Rat, the Norway Rat (even though his species probably originated in Asia), the Hanover Rat, and probably more.  Officially, he is  rattus norvegicus and with the possible exception of human beings, he and his kin are the most widely distributed and successful mammals on the planet.  

Rrattus norvegicus likes to forage close to his burrows and will use the same paths so frequently that visible paths develop on the ground.

There happens to be one rattus norvegicus (at least one) living under the fence in my front yard.  If you can get past the instinctive animosity some people feel toward his kind, he is actually a pretty handsome fellow.  A close relative of hamsters, gerbils, true mice and other rats, he belongs to the murroid superfamily of rodents, and collectively they occupy a wide range of habitats and have prospered on every continent except Antarctica. 

Lab rats and mice have been shown to be capable of some degree of empathy.

The Norway Rat (no one seems to be quite sure where he got that name) is the ultimate example of the creature who has learned to prosper in the world that man has built.  They have been our nemesis for as long as we've been settled, crop growing animals (it was undoubtedly the threat that rats and mice posed to grain stores that led to the unlikely alliance between humans and cats in ancient Egypt -- an alliance which is not without its own environmental costs in today's world).  He has been blamed for disease and plague and is almost the symbol of cringing, dirty lowlifes.  ("You dirty rat!")  And though living in close proximity to rats -- especially rats nurtured on the refuse of human civilization -- can be unhealthy, I don't think rattus norvegicus really deserves his unsavory reputation.  When you come right down to it, he has a lot in common with us.

Rats build elaborate systems of burrows which they like to line with shredded paper, leaves or other fibrous materials.  Depending on their population density they can be polygamous (one male rat monopolizing many females) or polyandrous (each female when she comes into heat mates with as many males as can manage).  They are highly adaptable, changing their behavior and social structure to meet changing situations.  Rats, and their cousins mice, had been shown to possess something that looks like empathy, an ability to recognize and respond to the suffering of others, especially individuals they are closely acquainted with.

Rrattus norvegicus is highly adaptable and social.

Rats are mostly nocturnal, although like the rest of their behavior they can adapt to being active in the daytime, if population densities are high, if food in plentiful and if there is little danger of predation.  They usually don't wander more than a few hundred yards from their burrows, and they favor the same paths so much that they form visible trails on the ground.  

Wherever humans have gone, rats have followed.

If you look up the Common rat on the Internet -- no matter which of his many names you use -- you will find that way more than half of the hits you find involve ways to eliminate and control rattus norvegicus. He has followed us everywhere around the world, and we have used him as a scapegoat, a lab animal, a metaphor, and even a pet.  We have crated environments in which rats thrive, but in which they also become carriers of disease.  We often seem to blame rattus norvegicus for the squalor he sometimes lives in -- which is, after all, only our refuse.  We built the dumps, the wharfs and the slums.  He only learned to live there.

The rat in my front yard, though, is living in clean dirt and eating the seed that falls from my bird feeders.  For the moment, I'm enjoying having him around.

Related Posts

Flickers, Rats and Starlings

 

 

The Invaders (Part One of Three)

For more Stellar's Jay action, see my previous post Turf Wars

 The action in and around my front yard has been changing the last few weeks -- spring brings new visitors and familiar visitors change their behaviors.  There have been some really exciting arrivals -- especially the Stellar's Jays -- who I believe may be nesting nearby.  

  

But a lot of my attention -- and my camera time -- has been focused on three species who are not always well regarded:

 

European Starlings,

 

House Sparrows, 

 

and the Norway rat.   

Some naturalists would put these species at the top of the Public Enemies list, a kind of environmental Axis of Evil.  Others raise questions about how much they are to blame for the damage sometimes attributed to them.  Nevertheless, they are here, and no matter how much trouble they may sometimes be for us (or for competing native species), realistically they aren't going anywhere any time soon.  And whatever else they may be, they are fascinating species in their own right, with much to teach us about the adaptability and persistence of life.  

In winter, starlings are brown, covered with white speckles that fade as winter progresses. In summer, they are black with purple and green iridescence and yellow beaks. 

The European Starling is one of the most successful and widespread birds in the world.  With help from human beings, it has spread from its normal range -- which includes almost all of Eurasia, the Middle East, Northern Africa, northern India, Nepal, and parts of China -- and been "successfully" (the success here is purely from the starlings point of view, other species may characterize it differently) to North America, Australia, New Zealand and islands in the Caribbean.  In many areas where they have established themselves, they are considered pests.  They have been credited with the demise of native species, the introduction of invasive species of plants, and damage to crops and agriculture. 

They like urban areas, thriving around people.  In North America Starlings are ubiquitous, their range stretching from Mexico to Canada.  

Eugene Schieffelin (usually described as "eccentric") was the president of the American Acclimatization Society, a group which was part of an international movement to introduce interesting and "useful" species into nations where they were not native.  Some sources claim that Schieffelin wanted to introduce into America all the species that were mentioned in Shakespeare's works (Starlings are mentioned in Henry IV), but other sources question or dismiss that motivation.  What is certain though, is that Schieffelin twice -- in 1890 and 1891 -- organized the release of approximately 60 European Starlings into Central Park in New York.  The first release was considered a failure, but the second succeeded beyond all expectations.  According to The Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology's All About Birds site, all of the starlings in North America are descended from these early releases -- and the Starling population here shows remarkable genetic uniformity. 

 

What is really amazing to me, however, is the Starling's vocal ability.  In the urban neighborhood where I used to live, starlings almost seemed like smaller versions of the crows they often flocked with.  I didn't get much chance to listen to them.  Now, in a slightly more suburban neighborhood, I often stand on the deck of my house and listen to what sounds like a small chorus of birds -- sounds that range from whistles, pops, clicks and screeches, to scraps of songs that are almost familiar -- all of it emanating from one starling in the tree overhead. If you hear a bird that sounds like it is arguing with itself in multiple voices, it is almost certainly a starling.  Because they often have an "electronic" sound to their songs, I think of starlings as the re-mixers of birds, sampling and combining a wide variety of sounds into something truly their own.  A few days ago, three starlings in my yard seemed to be improvising a complex melody, with one of them providing a "base-line" that sounded for all the world like a rapper beat-boxing.  

All About Birds says that starlings are known to copy the songs of up to 20 species, including (to name only the one's common to this area) robins, Red-Tailed Hawks, and Flickers.  I'm pretty sure that the Starlings in my neighborhood have learned to imitate chickadees as well.

Starlings have been known for generations as exceptional mimics.  They can even learn human speech.  Mozart had a pet starling, and is believed to have incorporated some of its songs into his own work.  (For some interesting background on Starlings and their abilities, plus a chance to listen to Mozart's "Musical Joke" check out Starling Talk).  You can also see some examples of starlings talking and demonstrating their remarkable range here and here.  (These videos will lead you to many more if you're interested.)

Even knowing the possible negative effects of Starlings on the native ecology and the controversies surrounding them, I find myself almost every day listening to them with a kind of awe.  And I am very grateful for the chance to get to know them.

Tomorrow, I will take up the second species in the Axis of Evil -- the House Sparrow.

Flickers, Rats and Starlings (Spring heats up, despite the weather)

I was on my deck yesterday, in the morning, and there was a lot of activity going on in the yard. (I'm still wondering who it was who scheduled such a beautiful, sunny day after such a drizzly, grey weekend). The female flicker from our neighborhood was back at the suet feeder (I moved it further out from the fence so the rat can't get to it).  You can see her here.

 

Underneath the feeder, the rat that lives under our fence was foraging for dropped bits of suet.  I think you can even see a fleck of suet on his back.

 

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There was a brief skirmish on the ground between the rat and a Starling who also wanted to eat the crumbs.  The rat chased the starling off, but it stayed on a fence post just above, watching and vocalizing.





Meanwhile, while all this was going on, the male Flicker was on the roof next door, hammering away at their chimney.

A pretty exciting day for birds and critters.

By the way, this is the first time I've been able to get shots of the male and female Flicker at the same time.  I can hear him pounding out his mating call all over the neighborhood (including, sometimes, on the side of my house.)  With all this courtship going on, I'm hoping for Flicker fledglings in the near future.