More Meadowlark, and Winkie's Cathedral Report

Isolde, Divine Mom of the Cathedral Red-tails perches herself on the most exposed place she can think of to tempt the hot button Kestrels away from her young.

BUT FIRST--

TODAY'S MYSTERY JUVENILE
I may have spoken too soon. Remember I said I hadn't seen any Brown-heading Cowbird young so perhaps they hadn't been successful in predating a nest.? Well five of the above Juvies appeared under the feeder today. And I'm thinking that Today's Mystery Bird is a Brown-headed Cowbird, Molothrus ater.

An Eastern Meadowlark literally filled with song. I can't quit thinking about the "gaping" adaptation. In this photo he's facing up, so just imagine him gaping so wide that his eyes come forward and he can see between his beak. The mind boggles, at least mine does.

And there is another nifty behavioral trait. Besides building a fascinating nest, Meadowlarks also construct a secret "run way", sometimes as long as four feet. Another use for that gape, as they use the widened beak to create almost a tunnel in the substrate for emergency ins and outs.

Betty Jo in Camarillo, Queen of the Avocados, (she sent some along last year and they were the best I've ever eaten), also nailed the nest...Meadowlark

Hi Dear Donna,

I couldn't answer last night, but I also thought meadow lark. I quote Erlich et al in "The Birder's Handbook""Meadowlark--'nest: In natural or scraped depressions; of coarse grass, lined with finer grass, hair. Domed canopy of grass bark, forbs interwoven with surrounding veg; opening on one side."However, it is difficult to tell from the picture just how tiny this is.

Great puzzle!

(Great description of the nest, thank you for finding it Betty Jo! D.B.)

Tristan on the urn of The Plant Pavilion.

Steadfast Palemaleirregularl Winkie and The Cathedral Hawks report.

Saturday: No signs of hawks around 10:00 am. Morningside Park all a buzz with equipment trucks for a big Park Party this afternoon. I can well imagine that all the extreme activity has not only the fledges, but also, Isolde and Tristan hiding somewhere safe.

So around 7:00 pm, I'm back with my binoculars trying to find the little guys again. Luck is with me.Viola! There's one fledge on the cross of the Eglise de Notre Dame. ( For those of you who don't know this church, it's on Morningside Drive and 114th St.) The light is gorgeous, but makes it hard to tell which one is on the cross. The setting sun gives such a beautiful glow to the little breast, but which fledge is it?

While this young hawk serenely surveys the realm of the tree topped ridge, I hear the chatter of disgruntled smaller birds. One by one, these smaller birds start to harass the young'n. This fledge is one of the calm ones: it's not bothered by these fly-by airborne theatrics. Then I see as the fledge turns that it is Third: just as confident as ever.

There is clearly nothing in his crop. I also see that these chatterers are starlings. Poor Third! No food and a bevy of birds about him this peaceful evening.I leave him to scout for the others. Just as I think I'm coming up dry and probably lost Third, too. I find another fledge on the cross of the cathedral's apse (i.e., St. Savior's Chapel, thanks to Rob I can identify these landmarks). At first it is hard to see the belly for markings. At first I think it is probably # One, Tailbiter. After more careful watching, I see a different level of attention. I twist my neck through the leaves of the London plane trees like a Slinky. Finally I get the right peep hole. It's my Cohort (Rob's Brownie). She does have a fully crop, so one of the parents has been around feeding. Reluctant to leave Cohort, I move on, but alas no one else to be found.

Hey! Two fledges in an outing isn't bad.By the time I get back. to the Eglise, Third has moved. Guess the starlings did get to him after all. He is sitting on the Plant Pavilion grill. Still no visible bulge in the crop. On that note I leave hoping that he still will get his evening feed.Sunday: My husband was on duty. Around 9:30am no sightings at all. But later, around 1:30pm he ran into someone with quite impressive camera equipment in Morningside Park. I can only guess that it was Lincoln. Lincoln had his scope trained on one of the fledges who was eating a pigeon in a tree. Sorry, my husband can't id these guys. (I'm fairly lucky he went out twice to look for the babies.)

The local ball players said that the young hawk flew into this particular tree carrying his meal. No one saw an adult for the drop-off. In fifteen minutes the young'n had made the pigeon almost disappear. Everyone was impressed by this gustatory feat. I really can't imagine that any of the tree are hunting successfully yet. These divine fledges this year have been amazing, so who knows!

Leaving this fledge to his(?) own devices, my husband left the park. Another fledge was sighted just behind the cathedral on a branch of one of the London plane tree. Maybe this was Cohort, as she seems to like the tree cover and the school grounds. This one was quiet and just preening.Again two babies, seen by surrogate eyes! Not bad for the day, as I came up empty at sundown.

winkie

(Many thanks Winkie for the report.)

Donegal Browne

A Reader Asks, "Could It Be a Meadowlark Nest?"

Photograph by Donegal Browne

Could that be a Meadowlark nest? The first thing I thought of when I saw "the little house" was of an Oven-bird nest. Which I immediately discounted as yes, they are ground nesters but no, their nests aren't made of grass They're made of mud. And the longer I stared at it the more open my mind became to the possibility of any living thing that could fit through the door being a possible occupant.
I know one is supposed to have an open mind, but let that be a lesson to me, follow the first hunch up at least a little, before opening one's mental forum to any living thing that can fit in the door.


Photograph Courtesy of The National Park Service
Eastern Meadowlark Sturnella magna
Thankfully the questioner brought me back to a bird nest and IS it a Meadowlark nest? That's a question I can handle.

As a child I remember Meadowlarks vividly singing on any available platform. But when I thought about it, I hadn't seen one in ages.

What about Meadowlarks, anyway?

The Peterson Field Guide, Birds of Eastern and Central North America, Fifth Edition says,

"9 in. In grassy country, a chunky, brown, starling-shaped bird. When flushed, shows a conspicuous patch of white on each side of its short tail. Several shallow, jerky wing beats alternate with short glides. When bird perches on a post, chest shows bright yellow crossed by a black V. Walking it flicks its tail open and shut. Note: Yellow of throat does not invade lower cheek behind bill.
VOICE: Song unlike flutelike gurgling of Western Meadowlark, is composed of 2 clear, slurred whistles, musical and pulled out, tee-yah, tee-tair (last note slurred and descending) Note, a rasping or buzzy dzrrt, also a gutteral chatter.
RANGE: Se. Canada to Brazil.
HABITAT: Grasslands, cultivated fields and pastures, meadows, prairies."

9 inches and Starling shaped? It could fit through the door. It's within the species range and the little house certainly was in a prairie so habitat fits too.

Alright what does a Meadowlark nest look like. I start to search.


Photograph courtesy of the Harvard Museum
The Harvard Museum has a complete collection of North American nests and eggs. Unfortunately what they have doesn't match what I have in my photo at all. My nest has live stems of grass growing up through the nest. Then again this particular nest was collected in 1911 and it's been sitting in an archival glass box ever since. It isn't exactly situated as the Meadowlark built it, which could make a big difference. What should a Meadowlark nest look like?

Which took me to the bookshelf again for The Sibley Guide to Bird Life & Behavior. Which in turn took me to the section Blackbirds, Orioles, and Allies, Family Icteridae, Order Passeriformes and a watercolor of a Western Oriole nest. No living grass incorporated to anchor it down, though the painting does show grass growing in front and in back of the nest flush with the it. And in this image it is as if the Harvard image is now, up laying on it's side. Interesting. This is an example of why seeing a nest in the field or at least a photograph or a drawing of a nest in it's original position and setting is so important.

Glancing down the page I notice a thumbnail drawing of a Western Meadowlark, head down, beak stretched very wide ...

The Caption Read:
"Western Meadowlark 'gaping.' Icterids have complex bill musculature that allows them to force the bill open with considerable strength. This enables the bill to be inserted into the ground or among grass stems, then opened prying apart the sub-strate. (Basically substrate in this case is the dried grass and other material on a prairie between the dirt itself and the air. D. B.) While this happens the eyes rotate slightly forward and the birds can see directly between their jaws into the hole they have created."

Wow, who knew? "Gaping". Fascinating adaptation that.

What does the US Geographical Survey say? They've been helpful before.

"The Eastern Meadowlark is a short distance migrant that breeds in grassland habitat. It is a ground or low nesting bird with a diet consisting primarily of insects and lesser quantities of seeds.

The Eastern Meadowlark is very similar to the Western Meadowlark. where their ranges overlap, they are separated by voice. Western Meadowlark has yellow throat extending slightly farther into face than Eastern. Male Dickcissel is much smaller with a conical bill and lacks white in the tail."

But is this a Meadowlark's nest?

WAIT! What's this?

Photograph courtesy of the United States Geographical Survey
Bingo! Look up at my photograph of the Janesville nest. Live grasses poke through stabilizing it. The door is the same and of comparable size. Substrate is very similar in composition and position.

To my mind these nests belong to the same species of Bird.

Yes, astute reader, that nest belongs to an Eastern Meadowlark!

Donegal Browne

Prairie Alive

According to the phone book, there is a county park with a nature trail, a woods, a pond, and a stretch of prairie, not far away. As the extended family is here for a visit why not go take a look?

We got more things to look at than we ever thought possible.
Three, what I take to be Northern Rough-winged Swallow fledglings, wait for the arrival of their parents who's beaks will be stuffed with insects.

A Red Admiral Butterfly feeds on a thistle.

Yet another Swallow Fledgling waits for yet another incoming mouthful.

Speaking of life. This is what is often called a nuisance, an old stump, something that's ugly and just in the way. Time to get some Stump Be-Gone and get rid of that old thing. What is it really? A treasure. The base of a tree going back to the earth. It supplies nutrients for all that specialized vegetation. It's the raw material that many fungi love that are useful or beautifully colored or fantastically shaped, or sometimes delicious.. And look at those cavities. Homes for all sorts of beasties to have young or get out of the weather.

Far out in the pond, a Mallard Hen swims with her nearly grown ducklings still trailing along behind her for company, safety in numbers, and last minute lessons in duck-ness.

Wait, there's another Red Admiral, there seem to be quite a number.

The prairie is being surrounded by new development, sub-divisions of the upper middle class with their minutely manicured lawns, zero "weed" tolerance, and wood chip immured plants, where not a bee buzzes or even a sparrow chirps, the antipathy of the grassland which is utterly bursting at the seams with life.

These fledglings sit on twigs in a disturbed construction area on the fringes of the grassland. Interestingly, I see that though parents make very frequent visits with food, these guys nap right until the last few seconds of a parents arrival at which time they are begging completely a quiver. Someone gets a mouth full, the parent leaves and they immediately drop back into sleep.

Black-eyed Susans, Bull Thistle, Fleabane, Wild Indigo and much, much more.

I'd been watching the maturation progress of the thistles in the countryside as Goldfinch need their down in order to properly fashion their nests. There are no Goldfinch chicks until there is mature thistle down. Suddenly I see what looks like a fledgling zipping after his Goldfinch mother. Wait a minute, I haven't seen any mature thistle. Wait a minute indeed. Here where the thistle's place of growth isn't marginal, where it gets a full days sun, there is mature down.

I'd always heard that Goldfinch only raise one nest full of young because they must wait for down. If down were available longer, would they raise more than one brood?

Now there are five awaiting their parents massacre of insects for hefty lunches in the Swallow Nursery.

Though it has been a dry Spring, there is a bumper crop of insects here creating muscle in more baby birds.

Now what is that? A little house for some kind of beastie. I've no idea. The entrance is only a couple of inches, far too small for a rabbit.

Any ideas?

The tiniest of tiny toads hops by. He's less than an inch though he may not look it. The hand holding him is of a very small boy.

Hey, there's another Red Admiral, and another, and another and I realize there has to be literally thousands of them in this 87 acres.

Seconds before, little eyes closed, napping at their ease, their lids pop open at the sound of wings. In a moment every single cell in their bodies will be infused with energy, as alive as anything can possibly be--just like a prairie.

Donegal Browne