Birds Impaled By Sticks

Below is actually a repost of a blog post made back on September 25, 2006 (holy cow, how is my blog that old). I wanted to link to it on the Facebook page but because it's on the old blogger platform and it's not letting me grab just that particular blog entry.

I'm reposting it because there's a news story of a young bald eagle that got caught in a tree because it was impaled by a branch as it was learning to fly. You can read about it here or watch a video here. Above is a screen grab of the video that shows you what a dire predicament the eaglet was in--way at the top of a dead cottonwood tree--almost too dangerous to climb.

We need to give a medal to this guy, Gordon Sasa, an arborist who risked his life to climb the tree and grab the bird.

Look at Gordon go, getting that eagle!

But birds getting impaled on branches does happen.  I think we don't see it all that often because they die or get scavenged. But this old post from 2006 shows a sharp-shinned that survived impalement.

All the photos below this entry are courtesy of Frank Taylor.

I just got in a weekly banding report from Frank Taylor. In it was a an interesting account of a first year sharp-shinned hawk that had impaled it's wing on a twig. Frank said that it had healed up with a bit of the twig still in the wing!

They didn't try to pull out the twig, just clipped the ends that were close to the wing. The bird seemed to be doing just fine and they didn't want to stress it out with a trip to The Raptor Center down in the Cities. Frank used to be curator of birds at TRC and has been a master falconer for longer than I've been alive. He knows a healthy flight in a bird when he sees it, and with a high strung bird like an accipiter, letting it go gave it a better shot at survival than time in a rehab facility.

The injury was healed, I wonder how long ago it happened? Perhaps when it was learning to fly.

Another fine example of how birds will survive no matter what. It would never occur to this bird that, "Hey, I've got a stick in my wing, I don't feel like hunting and heading south to find food. I'm just going to hunker down and sleep today." Birds just do what has to be done in order to survive. I love that.

I Love It When A Peregrine Comes Together

Yesterday I got an email from one of our local stations asking if I had time to talk about the changes the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources made to the state endangered species list. There were several animals and plants that had and adjustment but including birds. You can view the segment here. The reporter from KSTP wanted to know if we could meet someplace close by to see any of the species that had a change in status:

Northern Goshawk went from no status up to Special Concern Boreal Owl went from no status up to Special Concern Henslow's Sparrow went from Endangered down to Threatened Lark Sparrow went from none (not even records maintained by the DNR) up to Special Concern Trumpeter Swans went down from Threatened to Special Concern Peregrine Falcons went from down Threatened to Special Concern Bald Eagle went down form Special Concern to None Loggerhead Shrike went up from Threatened to Endangered Horned Grebe went up from Threatened to Endangered Purple Martin went up from none (not even records maintained by the DNR) to Special Concern Bell's Vireo went up from none (not even records maintained by the DNR) to Special Concern

I figured that evening news probably doesn't want to take the time to track down a Henslow's sparrow and that the birds I knew on the list in the Twin Cities easiest to find would either be a bald eagle, peregrine falcon or trumpeter swan. I told them that we should meet at Lock and Dam 1. Eagles fly over there regularly and there's a peregrine falcon nest box. The young falcons have fledged by now and are out hunting on their own, but sometimes they hang out there.  I knew actually seeing a peregrine was going to be a slim possibility but it was the best I could do on short notice.

We arrived and there were lots of turkey vultures but no peregrines. Just as we were setting up the camera, I heard a peregrine screeching. It got louder and the bird flew over us and perched on one of the walls along the river.

It was one of the young of the year and had a kill. It looked like it was eating an American robin--and it stayed for the whole segment. The camera man lamented not having his longer lens but I had my iPhone, Swarovski scope and PhoneSkope adapter. I took a few shots and video through my scope and they used it in the segment.

Birds are so unpredictable, but it's so fun when things come together just right and you get to show people something super cool like a young peregrine falcon with its own kill. Though, I do worry that some tv stations get the impression of--"oh yeah, she can get us any bird at any time."

I thought the DNR changes were interesting. I'm thrilled to see birds like trumpeter swans, peregrine falcons and bald eagles being downgraded in their status--that's good, the populations are recovering, the program works. I also found it interesting that some birds like purple martins were added and that their population had never been monitored before. Here's a quote from the assessment:

"Purple Martins are readily observed by participants in the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s Breeding Bird Survey, and BBS data show a population decline of 5.4% per year in Minnesota during the period 2000-2010. This is one of the largest declines of any bird for which the state’s BBS data are statistically significant. Due to the documented decline in Purple Martins over the past three decades, as well as the continuing threats to the state’s population, its designation as a Species of Special Concern is needed and reasonable. "

So it's good to keep an eye on them now, especially as they are seemingly abundant, rather than when it's too late and they are too far gone.

Common Tern Parenting

This is a video of some common terns that I digiscoped at South Beach in Massachusetts recently and there was some beach bird family drama. It was too funny because the terns had young that were just out of the nest and old enough to fly--teenagers. They were in that stage of teaching the young to fish for themselves, rather than constantly begging their parents. One young bird in particular was not getting it. The adult bird at first makes a big show of preening its feathers and ignoring the demanding youngster.

The young bird even tries picking up little sticks on the beach as if showing the adult, "Hey, you used to bring me fish this size to eat, I want that now, see?"

The adult just kind of tosses it away, "You don't want that kid."

Eventually the other adult in the pair lands and give the kid a good, swift kick in the rear to get it to fly--it's hilarious.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FwZXl2cz3HM&feature=c4-overview&list=UUcVJYmY1E0Lzar9p6qalw

This video was recorded with a Swarovski ATX 85mm spotting scope, iPhone 4s and PhoneSkope adapter.

The Lonely Dodo

This is a very sweet little cartoon narrated by Narrated by Stephen Fry and voiced by Alistair McGowan called The Lonely Dodo and is just under four minutes.  It's quite funny and I dare you not to say, "dodo" for the rest of the day. http://youtu.be/tvD4fRHstuU

To learn more, visit Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust's Lonely Dodo page.  While they are well established in Jersey (UK), they want to spread the reach of the Durrell globally--and I like how this reaches out to remind us that extinction is still possible for birds.

The Non Birding In Paris

I've had this post in the hopper for awhile and I've debated about putting it up. I don't want it to sound like France is a terrible place to visit. It's amazing and I hope to go back some day.  But this particular visit was so different from anything I have ever experienced. When I went to Europe for work, I had some time to take the train to Paris. I'd never been to that city and I've always wanted to go. I knew I would not have a lot of time but I figured one day in Paris is better than no Paris at all. But timing worked out that I had a few days in Paris.

I intended to do some birding...but I did not. I'm a big fan of following instinct. When I look back on my life, my best decisions have been made while going with my gut. That's not to say that a well thought out plan doesn't have its merits, but at the end of the day, there's a lot to be said for gut instinct.

I arrived in Paris late in the evening and my train deposited me at Gare de l'Est and as soon as I stepped outside, I could see my hotel across the street. Perfect. I scored a terrific room at the Hotel Libertel with a tiny balcony that looked down on the street and train station. I had some time to kill and I saw the cafe across the street. I thought I might get a small dinner and drink before collapsing on my bed for the following day's adventures.

I walked in and the bartender was as flirty as any French male stereotype you could imagine. But I was in France and delighted and rolled with the punches, yes French guy, flirt away.

What would my first meal be:

Why escargot of course! It seemed a perfect way to start off the adventure. My bartender was very kind and helped me with my French all while giving pointers: "You do not need to tip, you Americans tip too much, I make a good wage here, no tipping."

He included a few remarks that if I got lonely my hotel, he'd help out with that. I laughed it off but didn't quite understand he was merely a precursor to what I was in for on the rest of my trip.

My first day in Paris, I slept in. In my brain, I wasn't just sleeping in, I was sleeping in in Paris! Paris, France.  Above is the morning view outside my hotel and you can see the train station. When I finally woke up, had some coffee and got dressed, I debated about whether or not I would take my scope or binoculars with me.  I knew pickpockets were an issue and I knew there a lot to see non birding wise. I figured that since I had seen a lot of common European birds on my other travels, I'd take my binoculars in my purse and leave the scope and digiscoping equipment behind. I took the binoculars because I wanted to see some of the details in the architecture.

I passed a park near my hotel and discovered that Paris is not a fan of people feeding birds. The signs warned you against feeding them so as to not attract too many in one spot and cause disease.

Not that those signs stopped people from feeding them anyway. And as much as I enjoy seeing rock pigeons in their native land, I don't really need binoculars for them.

That's not to say there weren't other types of birds--even different types of pigeons, like the above wood pigeon. But on a casual stroll, I felt leaving the scope behind was a good choice.

My next stop was the Louvre, I wasn't sure about going in--I love art museums but I don't relish standing in a hoard of people with iPads, phones and cameras taking pictures of the Mona Lisa rather than actually looking at the darned thing.

I had a great time wandering and getting my fill of famous landmarks and French corvids...and then the onslaught of attention started and I learned that female alone who speaks in English is the preferred target of EVERYBODY in France.  Some of it flattering...some of it downright gross. It started with teenagers approaching me pretending to be mute with petitions for me to sign protesting the treatment of the deaf in France. What you were really signing was a form that you were donating 20 Euros. They then use your embarrassment or lack of understanding of the language (or dealing with a cute mute blowing kisses at you) to go ahead and to get you to just give the Euros and get out of the situation. But I have no problem explaining that I'm not giving money.  The easiest way out of this situation is when you see a teenager approach you with a clip board is to walk away. Some may even ask, "You speak English" and it's easiest to say, "non" and they will walk away.

I came across a Chaplin street mime...and not the only one I encountered in Europe, Chaplin is a popular persona for street performers there.  My mistake was pausing to take a photo. Chaplin Mime broke the fourth wall and started talking with me...which is when I noticed that his French had a Russian accent and he slipped between speaking either French or English with me. Then he offered to take me back to his studio for a mime lesson (ew on several levels, my distrust of clowns chief among them). I said, "No, I'm on my way to get some lunch."

"How about this, how about I join you for lunch?"

As much as I am a person who says yes to life and taking the road less travelled and as much as it might be amusing to share a tale with friends over dinner that I met a Chaplin Street Mime and he joined me for wine and steak tartar at a Paris cafe, I just could not do it.

But boy did he persist and became increasingly touchy feely in the process. The more I resisted and tried to walk away, the more he tried to put his arm around me and sell me a class.  I had a firm grip on my purse at this point and opened it up and took out a 2 Euro coin to pay him to just stop talking to me.

After I escaped, I found the nearest cafe for lunch to get the smell of grease paint of my nose.  My waiter was a nice young man who recommended a fine lunch. After eating he brought my check and included this:

I laughed and said thank you and that I'm pretty sure I'm 15 years too old for you.  He insisted that was nonsense and no woman should spend a night in Paris alone. I pretended to put his number in my phone and said I would text him after dinner and that I was staying at Luxembourg--lying just seemed a faster way out.

I continued on my jaunt and revisited the Louvre. I enjoyed some of the outdoor art and as I was taking pictures of this, a young man approached me and asked if I would take his pictures with the Louvre and Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel in the background. As I took his photo, I thought, "Wow, I can't believe some dude is trusting me to take a photo with his phone. How does he know I'm not going to walk off with it?"

We started chatting and he told me how he was a house painter in France and I detected a little bit of an Arabic accent. He was from Alexandra and having a wonderful time visiting Paris on his off time. He wrapped his arm around my arm and started telling me the history of the place. He then mentioned something about being just a student. I said, "I though you said you painted houses?"

Then he changed the subject and pointed to some statues. I was trying to formulate a polite way to say, "I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but I really just want to be alone and not be around people."

It was then that I noticed his arm had moved to around my shoulders and he was steering me away from the crowds, towards bushes and I thought, "Oh...this doesn't seem safe at all, he's actively steering me away from the crowd, towards those bushes."

I wriggled free of his grip and said, "Thank you for your time, but I'm leaving now."

That's when he grabbed me and kissed. No ladies, not one of those romantic kisses you might think happens in a Nora Ephron movie, the gross kind that tastes like whatever he had for lunch and overly aggressive tongue.  I pushed him away and he went in for more.

"Arrêtez maintenant," in my loudest voice. "I am not Stella, nor do I need to get any sort of groove back." That refernce perplexed the heck out of him long enough for me to slip away into the crowd and head towards the train station. Thinking back to how touchy feeley he had been, I checked all of my valuables and all the places I had Euros and a credit card tucked on me.  Everything was still in place as were my binoculars. Whew.

I don't think what I experienced that day had anything to do with me being particularly attractive, but had more to do with me looking very obviously like a female tourist alone. I decided that if I wanted to enjoy France I needed to leave my optics locked away in the hotel and to always have earphones in place to cut down on the number of people trying to talk to me.

My agenda for my next day ended up being crepes. I wanted to eat at this place, but they were closed. Bummer.  I was curious what kind of business thinks a cormorant is a good mascot for a creperie. Instead I went next door which turned out to be a place that my neighbor recommended called Le Petit Josselin.

This was their Nutella Crepe and the only way I can think to describe this is imagine crispy butter flavor surrounding warm gooey chocolate with a hint of hazlenut. This was insane and even though this is one of the richest things to ever come across my tongue...I almost ordered a second one, but with butter melted in the center. Anyway, should you find yourself in Paris, make Le Petit Josselin in Montparnasse a priority. They have savory crepes and dessert crepes. I had both, but the dessert crepes are the ones that are life changing. One of the things I absolutely loved was as I sat at my table outside and had a buttergasm in my mouth was that a European blackbird was singing overhead and it's thrush-like song echoed off the buildings in the neighborhood.  Here's a YouTube clip of what they sound like. What lovely music to serenade great food.

My final day I found myself at Sacre Coeur and that was a fascinating mix of religious tourists, street performers, con artists, illegal sales guys and portrait artists. The bracelet guys were fascinating. They approach you with string and what they try to do is braid it around your wrist and charge you 20 Euros. I saw them coming and said, "Non, merci," which followed by the guy yelling at me, "Hey! I love you Americans. And I love your big ass, you have good boom boom!"

Interesting sales approach and I ascended the stairs and enjoyed the view and the people. After wandering around, I descended the church stairs and saw a crowd of about 16 of the bracelet men blocking the way so no one could get past easily.  I decided I had to trudge through and as I went in, two approached. I said nothing and tried to walk and each grabbed either of my arms. I yanked them away and in my loudest, crowd attracting voice yelled, "Arrêtez maintenant!"

They backed away and lifted their hands in the air as people turned to look at us. Another of the bracelet men said, "Lady, be nice, everybody is cool here, take it easy."

And I continued on my way.

That night, I decided my last meal would be at the cafe across from my hotel. Some people may not want to read this, but the absolute best bird I got in Paris was this duck I at at that cafe. Holy crap, it was fantastic--so fatty and crispy and so, so savory. I related some of my experiences of the aggressive men to the same flirty bartender from my first night. We had developed a camaraderie at this point, as I knew he was married to a former Olympic skier and took care of his kids during the day. When I told him about my husband he said, "What kind of man lets you come to Paris alone?"

"A smart one," I smiled.

So the bottom line: Paris is fantastic, but is not a place that I felt comfortable taking high end optics around. I hope I get to go back, the food is incredible and there's no way to see every museum and statue. Incidentally, if you want to get more exercise so you can eat more food, they have a bike share program called Velib' that allows you to rent bikes all over the city. Paris is pretty bikeable...but it's hilly and many of the streets are cobbled.  Be prepared for inclines and a bumpy ride. I love biking but I ended up using the Metro more than the bikes.

And if you are a female alone, consider keeping headphones in your ears to avoid people stopping you to talk, don't be afraid to be loud and assertive if someone is bothering you, eat lots of crepes, visit Cafe de l'Est and enjoy the bartender there...and whatever you do, don't stop for too long in front of a Chaplin street mime.

Killdeers, Oh my!

I realized on Monday that since I came home from Europe, I hadn't done any birding apart from the usual mental notes of what is around me when I'm outside. We had a horrible storm that I'd been dealing with and some work that piled up. I was feeling out of sorts and I thought, "Screw it, I'm going birding." And I was so glad I did, summer goes so fast, it's easy to miss moments with common birds like this eastern kingbird. I've been playing quite a bit with the PhoneSkope adapter for my iPhone 4s and my Swarovski ATX scope and I'm overall pleased with it.  It's interesting that I notice the fit sometimes isn't as snug based on temperature fluctuations, but nothing major and easily fixed with a little tape. But I really like it's compact size on my phone and I find myself reaching for my phone first and my Nikon V1 second when I want to digiscope something. The above shot was taken with the iPhone 4s, PhoneSkope Adapter and Swarovski ATX 85mm scope. If you are interested in ordering one of the universal iPhone adapters, you can get a 10% discount if you used the coupon code birdchick13. They have adapters for iPhone 4, 4s, 5 and even Androids. The exact one I'm using is the C-4 Kit. If you're not sure which kit is for you, contact the folks at PhoneSkope, they're very helpful.

While I was driving around the country roads of Dakota County, MN I came upon a family of killdeer. They scattered as I slammed on my breaks, kids running in all directions and adults flanking the front and back of my car.

I paused to digiscope them quickly and also hoped that my vehicle stopped on the narrow road would encourage the other cars coming behind me to slow down and not hit the killdeer chicks. And really, how often do you get to see these little teeny, tiny puffballs on stilts? I posted one of the pictures of the baby killdeer to Twitter and @coneslayer called them "killfawns!" Which is what I will call young killdeer from now on!

Here's the adult that was in front of my car.  Look, the bird looks fine and normal so if I were a predator, I'd want to go for the tiny, slower, weaker killfawns, right?

Oh wait, no that adult bird looks like it's hurt, I of course want to go after that because it would be a higher food reward and an injured adult is easier to catch than a healthy chick, right? I just love that killdeer protect their kids by trying to fake you out, pretending to be injured. And even their rumps are kind of a rusty red, almost looks like an injury or blood--nature is ingenious.

Here's the video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sNGMTKY60c4&feature=youtu.be

I left after a few minutes when the adults herded the young kids off the gravel road. The adults must have looked mighty daring to the young killfawns--their parents protected them from the giant scary thing on the road. Always happy to help parents look cool to their kids.

Austria and CL Pocket Binoculars

I often marvel at how life gets me to the places it does. I try not to question it, but simply enjoy the ride. And for anyone whoever thinks that birding is boring...note the above photo and bite me.

This was one of my offices in June: The city of Innsbruck in Tyrol, Austria and I got see the mothership aka the Swarovski Optik headquarters. It's an incredibly beautiful city with fascinating architecture and cuisine that was a lovely combination of German and Italian food.

Not only did I get a tour of the factory, I also got to whip on a lab coat and put together a pair of new binoculars they debuted this week. I have to admit, in my work in the birding industry, I've had the opportunity to see lots of behind the scenes things, but actually using tools, greasing threads, turning screws really helped understand the inner workings of optics, how the mechanics function together to adjust for individual eyes and all the precision involved to keep a pair running smoothly for the long term.

DO NOT WORRY--the pair I put together will not go out for individual sale--so if you order from Swarovski, your pair will be put together by a well trained professional. But I got to put together their new CL Pocket Binoculars--so tiny or Shaz sized as Non Birding Bill might say. The amount of individual care and time that is taken with every binocular and scope from that factory is incredibly hands on. Oh sure, there were a few JARVIS type contraptions for proper timing with cleaning lenses, but they are primarily human made pieces.

Part of seeing this new bad boy was of course taking it out in the field--from the bustling streets of Tyrol and seeing historic sites like the Golden Roof, a 15th century as the residence of the Tirolean sovereigns...where I could use the pocket bins to take closer look at the art like...

A snake eating a baby which is part of the coat of arms for Maria Biana Sforza who was married to Emperor Maximilian. But we also took trams up the Nordkette Mountains:

Which gave us incredible panorama views.  There wasn't a huge variety of birds, but the ones we saw were quality like alpine accentor and snow finch.

I was especially chuffed to see an alpine chough and get to digiscope it.  Let me tell you, this Minnesota girl who is used to elevations of 1200 feet was not quite used to that elevation: 7,657 feet.  Fortunately, my elevation sickness manifests itself as me feeling like a just downed 2 martinis but I tried to be a bit more aware of my footing.  Tiny binoculars that fit in my pocket are a good thing...as was the choice to bring along my smaller spotting scope (the 65mm is much lighter than my 85mm and was glad to not have the extra weight).

But we also spent a day in the Pinnis Valley at the base of the Habict mountain--a place so remote, only one taxi service is authorized to drive you on the roads (which incidentally was called the Pinnis Shuttle Funk Taxi and keep in mind that Pinnis is pronounced like the male anatomy). We used the Karalm Alpine Lodge as our base for food and our water came directly from the Habict mountain springs.

And the cheese...I ate so much cheese...Just about everything on the table was made on site--including the night's dinner which was a red deer that had been wandering around injured on the lands that the hunting guide had recently shot.  This feast of cheese, meats and veggies was laid out and we were given lunch boxes to fill up for a picnic lunch in the mountains. There was of course coffee and the milk served with it was directly from the cow.  The milk was so fresh, it had a distinct mammalian smell and taste--mmmmmm.

The morning was spent climbing the mountains (some of us more slowly than others). There was still quite a bit of snow to trek through and in the case of some of us, we used some plastic bags to slide down the sides of the Alps.  I'm warned that there's a YouTube video taken by a Spaniard of me  sliding down Gangnam Style.  If shows up, I'll be sure to share.

The week before we arrived, there had been a significant snow event and all of that was in the process of melting.  Small mountain streams from the melting snow grew as the sun shone brighter, echoing off the valley walls.  Periodically, tiny avalanches crashed above us.  What was lacked in bird variety was more than made up for by the mammals:

Chamois (the above and not to be confused with ChamWOW) roamed the cliffs as did marmots and ibex. There weren't many trees but one of them was the stone pine and I was very excited because that is what used to make Zirbenz one of my favorite odd liquors.  It's not something you want all the time, but especially around the holidays, it's a fun after dinner sip.  Your first sip: "Oh cool, this tastes like a pine tree." Your last sip, "Yep.  That was a pine tree." But sipping it now, I can also get a flavor of that mountain air and remember the echoing songs of alpine accentors and dunnocks.

After a morning of hiking, we collapsed in a mountain meadow to eat lunch and take a nap. What a strange sensation to wake up surrounded by the Alps. One of our companions for the day was Carina Swarovski--the head of Swarovski Optik. If you listened to the last podcast, I'm a bit ambivalent about the blog post at the ABA about women not being in the upper echelons of birding. I felt like the upper echelon was considered bird listing.  Who cares? Well, listers care but here we have a woman who head of one of the top optics companies in the world...I'd call her in the upper echelon.

I have to admit, I'm not personally someone who has sought out pocket binoculars.  They are usually so futzy because each barrel adjusts individually to the eye and the companies that make them, make them as cheaply as possible to appeal to the person who just wants something inexpensive and not really something that works. What a difference it was to have something so tiny with REALLY great clarity like the CL Pocket Binocular.  They come in ten power magnification or eight, I prefer eights and even though the objective lenses are small (25mm), you would think that they wouldn't let in much light, but they did almost as well as my larger 32mm binoculars do in cloudy light.

These are handy for someone who is a very casual birder, wants them for stadium use or sight seeing in a big city. If you don't consider yourself a birder, but you want a pair of binoculars that are small, will fit in a pants pocket (or small purse) but actually will give you a clear, bright image--these are for you.

Birdchick After Dark: Woodcocks

So what do you do at Biggest Week in Birding when  you are hanging out with your friends and you've overdosed on warblers? Why make a video about woodcocks, of course!  Special thanks to Non Birding Bill for filming this and to Lili Taylor and Rue Mapp of Outdoor Afro for being incredibly great sports. Also...the woodcock footage was digiscoped at night with a Swarovski scope.

Drunk Birds

I can now add "sober ride for drunk birds" to my resume.

I usually do not answer my phone while bike riding, but I could tell by the ringtone that it was my neighbor Zoe. She doesn’t spend her social time foolishly, so I knew if she called, she had something important to say.

“I’m on Hennepin and there’s a bird that can’t fly,” she said. “It’s kind of flapping, but it looks like it’s trying to push its beak in the ground and kind of spinning in circles.”

Generally, when people contact me, I encourage them to type in the words, “find a wildlife rehabber near you” into the search engine of their choice and a very helpful website pops up that connects you with the nearest licensed wildlife doctor to you. This also keeps me from becoming a full time bird ambulance during nesting season when everyone finds a baby bird.

However, I was biking and only a few blocks from Zoe and I thought I might as well head over. Also, my neighbor only said the word, “bird” not “pigeon” or “sparrow.” Chances were it was  something interesting.

I headed over and five minutes later found my neighbor and a stranger she bonded with as they stood vigil over of the soft brown ball of feathers flopping on the ground. I immediately identified it as a Cedar Waxwing.

The bird indeed was trying unsuccessfully to fly and pushing its head into the ground. It was unable to stand and lurched around in a circle. I’ve volunteered for a couple of bird hospitals and know enough to when a bird is in serious trouble. I picked it up and felt around for broken bones and all felt intact. I blew on the waxwing’s breast, spreading the feathers apart to look at its transparent skin and get an idea of its physical state. The bird was robust with healthy muscle tissue, it was not starving and surviving well enough to find plenty to eat during our cold wet spring.

“What do you think is wrong with it,” Zoe asked.

“I think we have a drunk bird,” I answered.

Above is a picture of our little drunkard. Love all the colors on the waxwing, the soft brown and gray, highlight by bright red waxy tips and yellow tail band. In spring, frugivorous birds like waxwings and robins will sometimes feed on berries from the previous summer which have had months to lose moisture and allow the sugars to ferment. As the birds feed in a frenzy, the berries may not get digested right away and those fast metabolisms process the berries and voila, you get drunk birds. Sometimes the results are quite tragic as the intoxicated birds fly impaired and slam into windows. They are also highly susceptible to predators like Cooper’s hawks.

While it was possible that this particular bird could have been poisoned in a yard, waxwings are well known for getting intoxicated. If it had been poisoned, its chances of recovery were low, whereas if it was just drunk, it needed a quiet, dark place to sober up and then could be released right away.

I said, “I think it just needs to sleep it off away from the street, I will take it home and see what it’s like in a few hours."

I carefully placed the waxwing in my empty bike satchel, giving the weary and confused bird a soft spot to rest, but not allow it to move too much and risk damaging its feathers. The blitzed bird gave me that all too familiar glare we’ve seen many a drunk friend do. The look that says, “Look man, just turn off the lights and leave (bleep) me alone.”

At home, I set the satchel in the kitchen. Two hours later I peaked in. The waxwing had thrown up and was now at least standing. Ah, we really aren’t that much different from wildlife are we? A good hard puke after too alcohol and we feel a bit better.

I lifted the waxwing out of the bag, it stared unsteadily back at me. I realized that our little drunken bird was going to spend the night.

We took a pet carrier, fashioned a sort of perch for the waxwing and set it in. I also put in a very shallow dish of water and I chopped up some cherries in case it got well enough to eat on its own and set the carrier on the futon.

The next morning, the waxwing was sleepy and though hopping around, seemed a bit slow. This bird clearly needed a hangover breakfast and hydration. I opened the door and took a few drops of the water and set one drop on the very tip of its closed beak. It took a taste and you could see the lightbulb turn on, “Yes, more of that, please.”

Never underestimate the value of hydration when intoxicated.

I picked up a piece of cherry and slowly brought it to the bird’s beak. It opened it’s beak and took the proffered food. It held on to it for a moment, then swallowed. I tried again and got the same result. As cool as I thought it was to hand feed a Cedar Waxwing, I was highly concerned that it was so readily letting me hand feed it. By the third piece, it was as if realization set in and it flew to the back of the carrier in fear.

An hour later as the bird looked a bit more perky, I thought we would take it for a test flight outside. We went behind our apartment building and opened the door, the waxwing flew away to a branch in a hackberry tree high above. When we went back to our second floor apartment, I could easily watch our hungover house guest out the kitchen window. It preened and readjusted its feathers.  Then it rubbed its head on a branch, as if thinking, “I can’t believe how blitzed I was last night! I'm never doing that ever again. How embarrassing.”

Then the waxwing went to sleep and I worried that I released it too soon. As I was questioning myself, I heard the high trilly whistle of a flock of waxwings flying over. The hung over bird immediately woke up, called back and did the flight of shame right into the flock. Whew.

Party on, dude.

Here's the vomit the bird left behind...at least it's far cleaner than any puke a drunk human has left behind.

Lawrence's Warbler Around The Beehives

With all my travel, I was worried I was going to miss one of my favorite parts of spring:

But thanks to the cold, wet spring, the wildflowers were late and I did have some quality time among some trillium at Mr. Neil's. I think I have missed the morel window but there's so much to pay attention to in early spring, that missing that edible fungus is negotiable in my mind.

While dealing with beehives yesterday, I couldn't help but mentally note all the birds singing and what warblers were still around. Some breed there like American redstart, common yellowthroat, pine warbler and ovenbird. Others are late movers like Tennessee warbler and blackburnian warbler. There have been blue-winged warblers that have nested there in the past. And then last year, I was surprised to find a Lawrence's warbler where the blue-wings have traditionally nested.

After checking the bees, I was debating about morel hunting or getting shots of birds for my Digiscoping Big Year. Heading down the hill into the woods towards the morel patch, I heard a blue-winged warbler call...only it wasn't a blue-winged warbler...it was the Lawrence's and it followed us around, making my attention towards morels shaky at best. I decided to plant myself down in the woods to get some photos. Of course, the Lawrence's disappeared, but like anything, if you sit quietly in one spot, if the bird you are after is on territory, it will return.

The nearby common yellowthroat was very cooperative and I got shots of it with both my Nikon V1 through my scope and with my iPhone 4s through my scope. I love the above--Disapproving Yellowthroat! That was taken with an iPhone 4s through the scope.

Since the bird was singing and out, I thought I'd experiment and get a video. As I was filming him, I heard the blue-winged warbler call again...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_6dUl5bKZUE&feature=youtu.be

So above you can see and hear the Lawrence's warbler. I'm betting this is the same bird as last year. But without banding it, how can I be certain?  I know Lawrence's is a hybrid of blue-winged and golden-winged warblers but can never remember the actual combo.

Here's the thing...there's a lot we don't know. Blue-winged warblers and golden-winged warblers will hybridize and produce what's called a Brewster's warbler. A Lawrence's is believed to be the result of a Brewster's backcrossing with a blue-winged warbler.  Note that word, "believed?" There's still quite a bit we don't know, golden-wings could still be in the mix somewhere. Given what I know about the birds breeding around Mr. Neil's I think that is likely this bird is the result of the Brewster's and blue-winged warbler pairing. Last year, this bird was singing in the exact spot that the blue-winged warblers have nested and this habitat isn't the best for golden-winged warblers. I've only had one or two golden-wings during migration.

So, now I'm wondering...was there a Brewster's three or four years ago breeding with the blue-winged warbler and I missed it? The blue-wings have become such regulars and I don't like to disturb them where I know they nest. And I get distracted during bee season, I think it is highly likely that I could miss a Brewster's.

However this bird got here, I couldn't help but lay on the (most likely tick infested) ground and listen to this bird make it's rounds on territory while singing--how many crazy nature things went into it being where I was. Assuming it's the same bird as last year: It's survived migrating into South America at least twice. It is the result of its grandparents hybridizing and its hybrid parent backcrossing with a blue-winged (or possible golden-winged warbler). So much I can know about this bird and yet so much I don't.

I mentioned earlier that I wasn't sure I could count aplomado falcon on my Digiscoping Big Year because it's considered and introduced population and not sustainable on its own. But, it's a species and that bird wasn't banded so it could actually be a wild bird that flew up from Mexico. And this is about getting pictures of birds in the wild, so I counted it. But hybrids are not countable on the ABA list either. They aren't even included as a check in eBird. But I'm counting this bird. I'm not really following ABA guidelines and it was work to digiscope this bird, so Lawrence's warbler is 170 on my Digiscoping Big Year.

If you would like to read more about golden-winged warbler and blue-winged warbler hybrids here are some good articles here and here.