The Metamorphosis of a green-fingered Birder

When I first planned to refresh the front garden of our house in north-eastern USA, I knew I wanted to plant indigenous plants. I must say that I am not a gardener. I loved my garden back in Johannesburg as I planted indigenous and water-wise plants when I first moved in and left them to run wild and grow crazily over the 12 years I lived there. I loved the low maintenance of that kind of garden. Here in the USA, I always seem to see people working in their gardens – not what I wanted to do.

As I’m an avid birder, I knew I needed a few shrubs with berries to carry the birds through the beginning of winter and then anything that attracted insects that their offspring could eat in the summer, would be a bonus. I knew that the Milkweed family of plants would be not only a rather fetching addition to the garden but read that they would also attract Monarch butterflies, which was a bonus. Growing up, I used to watch nature programmes and they would show millions of Monarchs gathering in Mexico to overwinter, before heading north to fly back to Canada in the spring. The idea of having a few plants in my yard that could help these amazing butterflies along their incredible journey appealed to me, so I added Milkweed (Asclepiadaceae family) to my shopping list.

I ended up with only three Milkweed plants by the time the planting came around. A Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), a Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incamata) and a Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa). The garden was initially sparse with the idea that I could add more plants over the years.  

The one bush I did leave in the front garden during the great cleanup, is called a Butterfly Bush here. When this started growing last year, I fondly remembered my various Buddlejas from home and was thrilled when it started flowering with fragrant heads of hundreds of light

purple flowers. That was as much as I was going to do about butterfly-friendly plants. I had the stress of watering every day until the plants were established as we had a two-week heatwave right after everything was planted.

Six weeks later I was looking around the garden when I noticed a caterpillar on the Butterfly Weed. Lo and behold, it was a Monarch caterpillar! I was so thrilled and couldn’t wait to get a photo or two up to show everyone. I called myself a proud mamma at the time. Little did I know…

Within a week I had 17 Monarch Caterpillars between my three Milkweed species. That same day I counted all those caterpillars, I found my first green chrysalis hanging under the roof overhang. I immediately needed to know what to do, when to do it and how I could help them. My days of raising silkworms were about 45 years ago and as I can sometimes barely remember what I had for breakfast, I had to use my good friend Google for help. I started reading and found a huge community of Monarch and other butterfly crazies out there with more information than I could ever hope to absorb.

I was relieved to read that I had done the right thing. I had food for the caterpillars and an immediate source of nectar, thanks to my Butterfly Bush. I read up more about chrysalises and learnt that they are initially green, and that it takes 2-3 weeks for what I call butterfly juice to work its magic before the colour turns dark. The chrysalis becomes almost see-through and the dark you see is the butterfly inside, just waiting to emerge. This process of them emerging is called enclosion. Such a magnificent word. I couldn’t wait!

Once the caterpillar has eaten and grown enough, it finds a safe spot (as it turns out, not a safe spot, mostly just a spot), where it weaves a small web base from which to hang and hangs itself upside down in the shape of a “J” with its head lightly curved upwards. In butterfly crazy circles, this is called a “J”. This happens late afternoon (well in my garden anyway) and by morning, the chrysalis is formed. I was never lucky enough to see this process, no matter how many times I went out before bedtime with a torch, searching under leaves. Maybe some of the magic needed to stay magic!

Each morning I would go outside and search under the leaves of the Butterfly Bush, the eaves, the roof overhang, under the windowsill and then surprisingly in-between the sword-like leaves of my Red Hot Poker (yes I found a couple of them at the nursery, so have two in my garden making lovely orange spears to remind me of home). My caterpillar count was also climbing and was 27 at one stage. My Milkweeds were being decimated but magically, the more I watered, the more new leaves kept sprouting and the cycle continued.

My first child enclosed almost 10 days after I found the chrysalis. I didn’t see it emerge but was lucky with future children. Once they emerge, the butterfly wings are small and folded like curtains hanging in your dining room. The butterflies need to safely hang upside down to let the blood pump into their wings before it hardens. Once hard, the wings can sustain flight. Within half an hour my child was flying around and drinking some much-needed nectar before heading off over the house to places unknown.

Soon my free time became dominated with frequent visits to the front garden, checking, counting, watering, recounting, and rechecking. Early one evening I was out watering when I realized that about six chrysalises hanging from the roof overhang were missing. I ran inside for my torch and couldn’t see anything. No creature could have reached them so I assume a very hungry bird came around and grabbed the perfectly hanging tasty treats for dinner. Such is the circle of life but some days it really sucks.

Less than a month after finding my first chrysalis, I have just two left. They are in a safe place so feel confident that they will soon be gracing the skies and heading south to Mexico. At least 10 butterflies successfully emerged, and the success rate of 1:3 isn’t too bad. I don’t think I will get to the point of bringing them indoors like many people do as nature needs to take its course. What I do know is that next Spring I will be planting a LOT more Milkweed to keep the Monarch butterfly factory going.

Vegetable Avenues, Tinted Raptors, Black Waves and a Puff of Smoke - Part 1

Those of us that consider ourselves birders, bird for many reasons. Probably for a variety of reasons actually. Last weekend for example, I ruined a perfectly good long weekend by spending 2 days chasing a hawk that belonged on the other side of the country. Many hours of driving dusty roads and pulling off to stand for more hours in the cold while staring into the sky and bare trees. Fake views that turned out to be very common hawks, getting caught up in the chase and driving down country roads in a caravan of panicked birders, after more fake news. 

I realize that is not one of the many reasons I bird but in fairness I was chasing a lifer - a bird I had never seen before - so was willing to make some sacrifices. Adding birds to the numerous lists I keep is part of why I bird. I compete (mostly) with myself to get the highest number of birds for a given period of time and set myself targets every January that I know are seemingly impossible but because I bird also to escape from the world, I end up overachieving those targets. A sad state of affairs really.

Did I forget to mention the thrill of chase though? Chasing after a much sought-after bird is exciting, adrenaline-pumping and if you catch up with the bird, downright magical. For me, the crazy chasing experience is greatly enhanced with a special friend by my side. Somedays you win and a lot of those days, you don't. Somedays however, everything comes together in a dark sandpit and ends in a puff of smoke. 

After an exhausting week both from a work and political point of view, I was ready to embrace this weekend and the bitterly cold forecast to get a few local year birds on my list. Breathlessly I watched for news of the lost hawk and it was sighted every day during the week so made plans to drive down to once again look for it, plans for local birding once again put on the backburner. A friend was also keen (the same poor friend that spent an entire day last week with me unsuccessfully searching for the bird) so we agreed to meet up at 8:30am under some trees. I got there early, had a good phone call with one of my sisters and checked the message boards for news on the hawk, while I watched the wind whip dust all over the black fields. Today was the chilliest day of the winter and although there was no precipitation, the wind was icy and brought the temperature down to well below zero. 

My friend arrived and we had a good catch up about the drive, the weather and my new number plates. While we were still pulling on extra jackets and agreeing on which roads to tackle first, a friendly gentleman from Long Island (I never got his name so will call him Frank for the rest of my story) stopped to chat and ask if we had heard any news. I could share with him that in this case no news was bad news and which roads to check out. A white sedan came hurtling around the corner and came to a rather sudden pause next to us and the driver shouted that the hawk had been seen in the next road up from us. In a scene from The Big Year, the tiny hatchback from LI and two Subarus (who were sans drivers at the time they heard the news) scrambled to tuck in behind the white sedan and race off to the main road. Within seconds my friend and I were in our cars, had executed the perfect u-turn and were right on the hatchback's tail. One block down and we had "changed vegetables" (from Celery Avenue to Onion Avenue) and were trying to keep to the speed limit between the houses that lined the roads. Soon we arrived where two cars were pulled off. The four of us tucked in nicely off the road and leapt out of our vehicles. I made a mad grab for my camera on the seat next to me and thankfully connected with it, fingers automatically gripping and lifting. A rather elegant exit from the car considering the layers of clothes I was wearing and the size of my snow boots.

I looked around and saw Frank looking upwards and taking photographs with his big camera and long lens. I instinctively grabbed my binoculars and followed his line. There in the sky was a huge hawk. It had pale underparts. Long straight wings - the size of eagle wings - but they didn't seem to be too out of sorts with the size of the body. Small head. Tail seemed shortish but at the time I can't recall making a mental note of that. A Ferruginous Hawk in all its glory! I let my binoculars drop and raised my camera as the bird circled overhead.  It started to head towards the sun... a death shot for any kind of photograph. I held my breath to prevent my viewfinder from fogging up (wearing a mask has a few downsides), clicked on the auto-focus and started shooting. I managed 34 photos in 20 seconds. The hawk flew off into the sun. 

To share my joy in that moment, I needed to make eye contact with someone. Anyone. Now! I looked back and my friend was in her car scrambling for her camera so I looked around and shared my special moment with my new friend Frank. He had the same expression on his face for a brief second. Whipping around to my friend, I told her the bird had flown off so she got out and we did an awkward kind of happy dance, the kind you do in the times of COVID.  

Just before he drove off, we shouted our thanks to the driver that had alerted us to the sighting. A groan from the front of my car drew our attention to Frank, who realized that in his haste to tackle the 3+ hour journey this morning, he had left his camera's SD card behind in his computer at home. Frank did not get a single photo of the hawk but honestly to me he did not look terribly disappointed as I could see the smile on his face behind his 3-ply surgical mask. The white sedan paused briefly and we once again thanked "Frank #2" who was thrilled to hear it was a lifer for my friend and I. He drove off chase the bird again. The three of us that remained chatted in a shared moment of excitement about the bird, how lucky we got, where my accent was from, where my friend grew up, where Frank lived and how far he had travelled.

The shared moments after a great sighting have always added to my pleasure of the birding experience. Last year when I saw a lifer on my own and without my camera, it felt as if I had been cheated. Today was not like that day. I had two friends to share it with. 

New York Breeding Bird Atlas Checklist - 23 Jan 2021 - Black Dirt Region--Onion Ave. - 12 species (ebird.org)

For more information on the Ferruginous Hawk, check out this Wikipedia page:

Ferruginous hawk - Wikipedia

PS. For an added bonus, a few minutes later we got swept up in another convoy, headed to another dusty road also named after a veggie but the views were distant and not nearly as great at the ones we had earlier. My friend and I headed north to search for an eagle. I cover that adventure in part 2.

Do birds feel sadness?

Dad claiming the nesting box

The privilege of having a pair of birds select your garden and your nesting box to raise a family, cannot be underestimated. Such was our luck when the House Wren pair chose to make whoopee and lay eggs right outside the living room window in a gorgeous nesting box hung up especially for first-time renters. For a few weeks we watched them add twigs to the nest through the tiny hole.  We saw one of them in and out of the next for a couple of weeks (I know now that it was the male feeding the female while she incubated the eggs). I watched a female Brown-headed Cowbird try to gain entry into the nesting box but that entrance hole was so tiny, she could only fit her head in thankfully.

Last week we noticed food was being carried to the nest by both Wrens - although the male and female look identical, the speed of the food coming in, confirmed it couldn't be just one bird. The male would dance a little jig every now and again and sing with a mouth full of food which reminded me of Neo trying to bark with a ball in his mouth. Too cute. With Janet and Tracey visiting, this special viewing just added to the fun week we were having. Sitting inside with all the doors closed and the AC blowing, we could still hear the screams from the nest as hungry mouths demanded to be fed.

On Friday and Saturday there was a lot of action at the nest and the noise the chicks made was amazing. Raucous, like kids frolicking nest to a swimming pool on a hot day. Many times one of us grabbed the binoculars and when standing at a certain angle on the top step, you could sort-of see into the tiny, dark hole. We counted 4 mouths moving in the dark - a lot of grocery shopping to do for this couple. Tracey and Janet both left for home on Sunday morning and we weren't in the living room for most of the day, getting the house ready for a friend coming to visit. Ruth arrived late on Sunday.

This morning (Monday), the kids were extra vocal and coming towards the front of the hole so Ruth and I spent time trying to get a few photos. Something I was trying to get a shot of, was the parent leaving with the fecal sac (the babies don't poop in the nest as that would get quite mucky so when mom or dad pokes their butt, they poop into a sac/bag and the very patient parent, picks it up and flies off with it before disposing of it far away) so I had zoomed in quite a bit.  I noticed a bit of the nesting material sticking out of the hole but paid it no mind as the Wrens were ignoring it, hanging on and feeding those crazed yellow gapes. Over and over.

The tiny leg sticking out of the nesting hole

A bit later, Ruth noticed the nesting material and another close-up view of the nest confirmed it was in fact a bird foot sticking out. Not pretty. We assumed one of the chicks had not made it. We briefly discussed removing the chick but were slightly freaked out so decided to leave it as it wasn't bothering the adults constantly bringing food. Later Jacques came upstairs and when I pointed it out, he said he would remove it. As freaked out as I was, I had my camera at the ready.

Hubby going above and beyond

Plastic shopping bag, disposable glove and step ladder in hand, he went out to the nest. He reached up and pulled. It turned out not to be an easy task but he did remove the chick and place him in the bag for me to look at. I was horrified to see it wasn't a chick, but an adult. It was starting to decompose with the heat we've been having, this tiny body wouldn't need too long so assumed it happened yesterday. I couldn't see any obvious reasons why it died. Without identifying marks, there was no way to know whether this was mom or dad.

I let my sisters know as they were quite invested in this family all of last week. Tracey asked the question "Do you think birds feel sadness?". It was a good question and one that did give pause for thought before I answered that I didn't think so as the other adult had been in and out of the nest all day, hanging on to the nest hole with that decomposing leg blocking part of the entrance and it didn't seem to be a problem.

Rest in Peace Mr Wren

So the adults we had been watching all morning, turned out to be just one. After much thought, I sadly realized that the male was the one in the now-sealed shopping bag. The lack of dancing and calling at the nest has gone and only the sounds of demanding teenagers remains. I would like to think that he went bravely into the night after defending his children from something with a sharp bill, looking for a tasty treat.


What an incredible feat for mom though.  No time to feel sorry for herself, she just picked up feeding duties of her quadruplets and can be seen entering the nest (she is entering now that dad isn't blocking the entrance any more) with bug after spider after worm after fly. Minute after minute. I am eternally grateful my garden is wild and the insects have produced in their hordes this summer as she is going to need all the help she can get raising those kids, getting them off to college and eventually kicking them out of the nest.  I only hope I am home and look up from my laptop screen at just the right time to see that miracle. 



Until then I am sending happy thoughts for this single mother family that are going to need all the happy thoughts they can get.

The Case of the Fallen Post and the Missing Suet

Day One
I look out into the front garden and see that the right most bird feeder's metal post is lying on its side. Jacques and I immediately go outside to start the investigation, camera at the ready just in case we see something juicy. At this stage we are both convinced it is a bear as what else would have the strength to push the post over. We are somewhat excited. We both check the ground and feeders for any kind of evidence. No visible footprints as the posts are in the grass. The metal post is not bent or broken. The baffle that keeps the squirrels from climbing the pole and getting to the feeders, is still in tact. The suet feeders that were hanging off the post are on the ground (empty) but not damaged in any way like a bear would do. 
Eventual Conclusion:  Ground is soggy after the rain and the post must have fallen over by itself. Birds and squirrels enjoyed finishing the suet before we had got ourselves out of bed, as it was on the ground and very easy to get to. Pole is re-seated and pushed firmly into the ground to prevent further mini/bear heart attacks.

Days Two to Seven
No incidents to report. 

Day Eight
No incidents to report.  
I am however very tired of feeding insane amounts of seed to Grackles and Cowbirds, so today I order a new seed feeder from Amazon - a hopper type that only the small birds will be able to access.

Day Nine
No incidents to report.

Day Ten
No incidents to report.
The new feeder arrived today from Amazon. I happily take down the two large feeders which have helped to empty my seed coffers and do some rearranging of feeders across my three posts.  The left most one now has a Hummingbird feeder dangling from one "branch" and a new orange feeder for the Orioles hanging opposite it. The middle post now has a small platform feeder (the only place the larger birds can get seed) and a suet feeder. My right most post has another suet feeder (the upside down kind that only the woodpeckers can grab on to, so the suet lasts at least two weeks) and then my brand new seed hopper that the smaller birds can finally enjoy. Suet and seed are topped up late afternoon.

Day Eleven
When sitting down at my desk to work for the day, I notice that the upside down woodpecker suet feeder is hanging at an angle and empty. Not sure how this could be possible as I had filled it up the previous afternoon. I see the baffle is a little lower than normal so assume a squirrel managed to jump up over it and helped itself.  I fill up the suet holder, completely forgetting to reset and tighten the baffle. None of the other posts or feeders have been touched so I'm somewhat puzzled but not concerned.

Day Twelve
This morning I am not happy to see that not only is the upside down suet feeder once again at an angle and empty, but my brand new seed hopper is on the ground and empty too. I curse the squirrels who I am convinced are working together to get over the baffle. I have a mental picture of a squirrel pyramid but don't think it's cute for a second. I mutter and rearrange the feeders once again. Thankfully my new feeder isn't damaged at all. The new seed hopper is moved to the middle post and the extra suet feeder is moved to the right post. I heighten the baffle and secure it whilst making sure it is suitably floppy.

Day Thirteen
Dammit! This morning both suet feeders are empty. I cannot figure out how anything is getting past the baffle and onto the feeders. I once again check and cannot see teeth marks or damage to the feeders. The suet is just gone. I decide to leave everything empty.

Day Fourteen
No incidents to report. I share my frustrations with my friend Anne and after going through a few options, she has an idea of who the culprit might be. I fill up just the one suet feeder to see how it goes tonight.

Day Fifteen
Guess what... The suet is gone this morning. The feeder has been picked apart but not harmed so I piece it together again. Instead of suet, I leave both feeders empty and instead put fruit on the feeder just before dark. I log onto Amazon and place an order for a wildlife camera with night vision.

Day Sixteen
Unsurprisingly the fruit disappeared overnight. The baffle is lower than normal which tells me something heavy must have pushed down on it. I check closely and see bits of apple lying on top of the baffle. Almost as if something had messily nibbled above it, dropping tiny bits in the process. I am not upset this morning at all. I fill both suet feeders so the birds have something to eat during the day but put a reminder on my phone to bring the feeders into the house before dark. 
Around 8pm I bring the feeders in and I place a small piece of suet and half a corn on the cob (mealie) into the suet cage built onto the pole as it is hard to open so anything accessing it, will be forced to be creative. I can't wait to see what it looks like tomorrow morning. I find myself shining a light onto the feeder every now and again through the window just in case I catch the culprit in the act. I am excited that my wildlife cam is arriving tomorrow.
As I get into bed, I hear an excited call from another part of the house. Checking he house before bed, Jacques wandered over to the window, just to have one last check of course. I rush to the window and see a very nervous grey shadow sniffing around the bottom of the left hand post. An Opossum! Can this be the culprit? He's very skittish and quickly disappears into the shrubbery. Personally I think he is too short and can't see him getting over the baffle. Where is that camera?!

Day Seventeen
I wake up before dark and go for a short hike (okay, it was some early morning birding) so don't have time to check the feeders. When I get home, there's a Titmouse on the suet cage so I can't be sure if the suet and corn haven't been eaten by birds while I was out.
Making coffee, hubby casually mentions that he read for a bit before putting the light off last night and couldn't resist another peek before he turned in. A racoon was sniffing around the feeders and was reaching up to the right hand most baffle but was put off by the light so disappeared into the night. A racoon? Jacques is convinced this is our culprit but I am still wondering if he can get past the baffle.
The wildlife camera arrived with the mail around 2pm and I spend a little time setting it up. Then Jacques spends time actually setting it up properly :-) 
I leave a suet feeder hanging from the post and the camera is mounted on a tripod and placed in the garden. Jacques does a few tests before we call it a night. Now we wait...

Day Eighteen
I let the dogs out early and see it is drizzling so skulk into the front garden in my pj's and bring the tripod in. The box says its waterproof but who really knows so I don't want to take a chance. I go back to bed.
I'm finally up and grab the SD card from the camera on the way to my desk. I put the card into the slot on my laptop and bring up the File Explorer to see what videos are waiting for me. There are a few blurry videos of Jacques setting up the camera last night and one of the corner of my pj's as I trigger the video while picking up the tripod. That's it! Ugh! 
I glance through the window and see the roof of the once-again bare suet feeder is at an angle so I know the culprit was busy on top of the feeder last night. How frustrating. I will have to play more with the camera angles today to make sure it picks up all movement.  
The camera is set up less than 2 metres away from the top of the feeder before we go to bed. Let's see what happens...
 
Day Nineteen
After a quick dash out in the rain this morning at 6am to collect the camera (yes, in my pj's again), I opened it up and left it to dry in the dining room before going back to bed. I patiently read in bed waiting for Jacques to wake up but eventually I couldn't hold out and got up to hopefully solve the mystery once and for all. Opening up the files on the SD Card, I was thrilled to see one at 3:07am. This had to be something. I eagerly click on the file and am immediately confronted with the bandit.
He is using his nimble fingers to open up the suet feeder and casually takes out the entire cake.

https://youtu.be/uQ8xehYnEY4 (a link to the video if you are using an iPad or iPhone)

I do know that I'm not completely thrilled at the idea of a raccoon beating the baffle and eating about $20's worth of suet in a couple of weeks. I would however love to know how he does that.  


Episode Two to follow...

The Battle of the Tail Ends

While waiting for the coffee machine to warm up this afternoon, I happened to glance out the kitchen window and witnessed what turned out to be a rather interesting battle for the two bread crusts I had thrown out onto the lawn after lunch.


Typically I don't worry too much about the wholewheat frisbees (yes they take a wonderfully graceful flight if you flick your wrist just right) as they are grabbed by squirrels and whisked up the pine trees before I can blink.  Today was a little different.

Nibble and shove

There was a slight movement at the edge of the lawn where  one crust had landed and I could make out a chipmunk greedily nibbling away at the one side, while the other crust lay on the lawn out in the open. I watched as the chipmunk tore pieces off with his front teeth and shoved them into his cheeks. In a flash he was up and away, scuttling over the bed of withered pine needles and under a bush, reappearing on the other side of the bush before disappearing behind the large pine tree.  A few long seconds later, he appeared from behind the tree and followed the same path back to the "tail end". Nibbling and shoving continued.

I could see his cheeks just bursting from the bread but needed a better view. This was too good to not get my binoculars and camera from my desk so I sneaked back quietly.  I have to sneak around as the dogs bark and jump up and down when I get excited and look out the window as I'm usually very excited about a bird I just spotted.

Shove as much as you can into the left cheek

Then shove some more into the right cheek

Arriving back at my viewing point I spotted a squirrel in the middle of the lawn with the other end in its mouth. I watched both "fluffies" quietly and enjoyed the various ways they enjoyed their afternoon tea.  While the chipmunk was all about shoving in as much as he could before dashing off to disgorge the contents most likely into the waiting mouths of his family behind the pine tree, the squirrel quietly held the slice in his paws and gently nibbled the top and sides of the crust where the seeds had been.  He then slowly moved inwards towards the softness. Bite by gentle bite. Clearly in no rush.

I prefer my crusts "on" thanks

While the chipmunk was on one of his disgorging trips, a rather large squirrel arrived at the table. He looked around and then made a beeline for the open lawn and came up behind the already-dining squirrel. The peace of his afternoon nibble shattered, he grabbed his piece and made a mad dash for the trees.  After a short chase, the original squirrel clambered up a tree and the bully looked for an easier target.

The Bully enjoying his prize

During the chase, the chipmunk had sneaked back to his slice and another mouthful was on the way to the nest.  The bully heard him, spun around and gave chase.  About halfway to the chipmunk's pine tree, the squirrel stopped in his tracks and held his head up, sniffing the air.  He focused on a spot where the chipmunk had paused and dove head-first into the bed of needles coming up with a prize.  He appeared quite pleased with himself perched on a stick as he nibbled on his stolen bread.  A third squirrel arrived at the left over end and tackled it with glee. The chipmunk went home to rest and let his tea digest.

Can you help this squirrel find his dignity?

Normally I type strongly worded messages for my resident squirrels that involve death, the fires of Hell and the Crucio spell.  Today I have been thoroughly entertained and it is worth writing about while I sit feeling stupid with a huge grin on my face.

No self-respecting birder in NY puts a feeder up in their garden without making it squirrel proof. Wiring the pole up for shocking them to death is not actually a common solution - that common solution is called a baffle.  This is a metal device you mount on the pole under the feeders in the shape of an upside cone - it looks much like the one you put around your dog's neck to stop them from getting to a wound. The cone is stiff but the mechanism it hangs off keeps it loose and it flops around if you push it.

Typically the squirrel will shuffle up the pole and get to the inside top of the baffle and can't go any further. Any attempts to grasp the edge and leverage themselves over the edge, means a fling or a flop back to the ground. For entertainment value initially, I did lightly oil the poles but they caught on to me so stopped climbing.

During the freezing winter months, standing water quickly freezes up which leaves birds and mammals with nothing to drink. I purchased to bird bathes with a built-in heating element. It checks the temperature of the water and keeps it just under freezing so it isn't warm, but it is unfrozen. One bath is situated on the ground - great for mammals to get to and then I have another one on a pole for the birds near the feeders. I have enjoyed watching the birdies bathe while the temps are well below freezing.

This morning I was on a rather intense conference call and when I looked up, was surprised to see a squirrel on top of one of the bird feeders nibbling on suet. There is just no way he could have climbed over the baffle but to be sure, I went outside to check that it hadn't hooked up somehow and lost its "floppiness". It was working fine.  I checked the bird bath which was placed far enough away from the feeder and walked back to my desk with a puzzled look on my face.  I got distracted with my conference call and once again, I looked up and the bugger was gnawing at another suet ball while perched on top of the feeder pole. The water in the bird bath was still full so I didn't think it had used it as leverage as the bath is slightly off-center so just bumping it, would mean it would overflow or at least show small waves as it recovered. I went out again and to be sure, I rechecked the baffle and then moved the bird bath about 20 cms away from the feeder.  Back to my desk.

By the way, I am still on a conference call all this time, walking to and from the feeder with the portable phone in my hand...

This time, I sit down and keep my eyes peeled on the feeder. I was not going to miss it again.  In a couple of minutes, I see two squirrels chasing each other around the feeder.  The thinner one escapes to the Dogwood outside the window and the other hangs around under the feeders looking for scraps.  Next thing, he hops onto the edge of the bird bath and without thinking, launches himself at the feeder. He lands on the side of the baffle, it flops down under his weight with a crash against the pole (like a church bell) and flicks him off onto the ground. Stunned for a good couple of seconds, he is right back up on the bird bath.  I am sure that by now he is thinking that something has changed but he isn't quite certain what that is.

Sure enough, he launches himself off for a second time, this time he lands near the top of the baffle so there's less swinging, he scrambles against the bare metal for grip, doesn't find any and slides off the side along with his dignity. Again I can hear the thoughts going through his mind about how this worked a few minutes ago and then it didn't. Maybe it was the pole... So twice he scrambles up the pole, gets to the inside top of the baffle, reaches around and grabs the edge and lands on his butt along with the dignity he left there earlier.

My squirrels are determined although I prefer the word relentless which does conjure up visions of villains instead of Boy Scouts. He takes one more shot and is back on the bird bath. This time I can see he is considering his options before launch.  3, 2, 1 and he takes a giant leap towards the feeder.  Is now a good time to mention that when I moved the bird bath, I emptied it which took away some of the stability?

As he launches, the bird bath moves slightly to the left and he is flying through the air slightly off target. He somehow lands on the edge of the baffle and instead of flipping or flopping, it spins. He had managed to grab hold of the edge during the mad scramble and after a 180 degree ride, finally had to let go and ended up sprawled on the grass about 2-3 meters on the other side of the feeder and bird bath. He looked like a Frisbee flying through the air. By this time I was screeching with laughter and just thankful my phone was on mute. In my excitement I woke the snoozing dogs up and they jumped onto the back of the couch, which is window height, to see what had mommy all excited. Between the laughter and the barking, the squirrel decided to call it a day and it hopped off to the nearest Oak tree.

I'd like to believe that instead of using my normal Crucio spell, I went for the Confundo one instead. If you aren't sure what I mean, reread your Harry Potter books or ask Google for help.

Back to the next call. I'm still smiling as I finish typing this....

Dear Red-tailed Hawk

Dear Mr or Mrs Red-tailed Hawk,

I know you're tired and have just raised a couple of hungry chicks - that's a huge effort that I appreciate. I do however want to ask you what you fed them. They must have been driving you crazy at all hours of the day and part of the evening with hungry bellies that needed to be filled. I heard them screaming at you when I was outside playing with my dogs or filling the bird feeders. I would have expected you and your mate to become killing machines to ensure your brood had the best possible chance at life. 

In case you were a first time parent... Young hawks need meat. Lots of it. They need the calcium in the bones of that meat to help them grow big and strong. Without that they become floppy and useless as hawks. 

I am however sad to say that I think they are doomed. I think you fed them leaves and twigs which is why they stayed hungry and kept screaming at you. If you had considered their needs, you would have taken me up on my offering of fresh squirrels and chipmunks. All day long. Every day. Instead, you chose to ignore the offerings in my garden and for that your children will never live to see their real potential. I know we agreed that you wouldn't touch the cute little bunnies but for Pete's sake, could you not have made an effort to help rid my garden of this abundance of meat?!

I hear you outside now screaming and calling at the top of your lungs.  I think you're perched in one of the trees over my driveway.  You are sitting there calling and screaming and I don't even see any of the birds or meat offerings around my bird feeders, move. They don't show a high sense of "fight or flight" and are carrying on about their business as if nothing is threatening them. That's because nothing is threatening them thanks to you!

Do your job please and stop embarrassing your species (and your kids) before I have to call up the Cooper's Hawk to finish the job. Clear the backlog of offerings on my front lawn right away.  If you can take a Grackle or two with you, I'd really appreciate that as they too have multiplied in the past couple of weeks. Just remember to leave the Cottontails alone.

Sincerely

Occupier