We call it that because squirrels like to shelter inside. And each spring, at least one new family grows up there. One year, a pregnant raccoon took over the entire tree. But otherwise, for some twenty years, we have watched squirrel mamas, and eventually their pups, scurry in and out of the largely hollow tree.
But last week, I wondered if wood ducks might be moving in.
Continue reading Duck DramaThe Red-breasted Mergansers put on quite a springtime show. They scoot. They splash. The handsome boys bow to impress the ladies. I never tire of watching their annual courtship display.
Continue reading A Red-breasted Ballet… For NowImage Credits: Carol Doeringer.
That’s our weather of late. But sitting in my snug office, just steps from soup, sourdough, coffee, and more… I’ve no reason to complain. The weather may be harsh, but I’m not suffering.
Can the same be said of the wildlife I watch through my window?
Continue reading So Much for SharingImage Credits: Carol Doeringer.
But that’s not what this juvenile Bald Eagle is watching. Perched on the high bluff behind our Lake Allegan home, the raptor has a sweeping view of the water below. That view includes Eagle Island.
You can probably guess how that island got its name.
Continue reading From Shallows to Swamp?Image Credits: Carol Doeringer.
The poo’s origin was no mystery. Robins had nested overhead, on our pergola. But still, I wondered why I was seeing so much of the sticky stuff. Robins, like many bird parents, remove their nestlings’ excrement after each feeding. It comes out wrapped in a fecal sac—a convenient package that parents swallow during the first week and then carry away from the nest as fecal quantities grow. In addition to helping keep the young ones healthy, nest sanitation minimizes any scent trail that might lead predators to the nest. And yet, just a few feet directly below the nestlings lay a stinking pile of poop.
Was I looking at the dereliction of parental doo-ty?
Continue reading When the Poo Piles UpImage Credits: Carol Doeringer.
I hear that cry and know instantly which bird just flew nearby. The Blue Jay’s squawk and its brilliant blue feathers mirror its name, making it easy to find and remember the bird.
That’s not often true of the fake-news name given to the Red-bellied Woodpecker.
Continue reading What’s in a Fake-News Bird Name?
Image Credits: Carol Doeringer.
… if you’re a Canada Goose? That’s what I wondered yesterday as I watched one of the noisy honkers on our lake.
Continue reading My Honkin’ Rude Neighbor
Image Credits: Carol Doeringer, Nikolai Gates Vetr.
The Hairy Woodpecker could only be seeking food. The branch was too tiny to surround a roost cavity.
I could see why a woodpecker might choose this red oak to forage. It has several branch stubs: jagged wounds where fungi can enter. Many wood-boring insects prefer laying eggs on decayed and damaged trees. The hatchling larvae can easily chew their way inside, where depending on species, they may overwinter.
But this particular branch? It’s so skinny—maybe four inches in diameter—it must have been frozen to its core in yesterday’s 14-degree weather. Wouldn’t an insect mom want an egg-laying site with more mass? A trunk or a thick limb that would retain warmth to help her babies survive a Michigan winter. I was sure the woodpecker wouldn’t find food in this branch.
He pounded and chiseled. It took him just six minutes to prove me wrong.
Continue reading When a Woodpecker Proves You Wrong
Image Credits: Carol Doeringer.
I see Bald Eagles often, usually some distance from the house. When eagles do land nearby, they’ll scoot if I simply step to a window. So when I saw the eagle in my tree, I stood back from the glass, as usual. But after an hour, I just had to try for a closer look through my camera.
With tiny, slow steps I moved to the sliding glass door. The eagle didn’t seem to notice. Then I inched the door open a crack. The bird didn’t budge. I pushed again, just enough to get the lens outside.
The door groaned, and the eagle turned and looked my way.
Continue reading Perched to Ponder
Image Credits: Carol Doeringer, pacificnorthwestkate.
He wiped it on the rim of a tree cavity. But the feather didn’t budge. Over and again, this juvenile Northern Flicker swiped and wiped his bill.
Finally, he managed to drop the feather… only to repeat the process with another!
