Blakeman on the Unusual Tail Markings of Pale Male's Mate Zena and It Must Be Spring as Everyone Is Back For at Least a Cameo Apperance

                                                               Crop of original photo (see next post down) courtesy of palemale.com

 Ohio Red-tailed Hawk maven John Blakeman on the possible reasons that the tail of Pale Male's mate Zena has unusual markings and is missing some of the "normal" ones--

 

Donna,

 

The horizontal stripe on Zena's tail feather is known as a "hunger trace." It can occur for two reasons. Most often, especially in eyasses (seen in immature hawks, before they have molted to adult plumage in their second summers), hunger traces are from actual hunger, periods of time when the eyass failed to eat enough food to fully grow emerging feathers while on the nest.

 

Feathers are pure protein. An eyass going a day or longer without food will have hunger traces in all developing feathers. Most eyasses have minor, insignificant hunger traces in just the smaller parts of the feathers, not the quills. These are insignificant.

 

But a strong hunger trace that creates a weakness in the shaft of the feather is ominous. The feather is weak and can later break off. The hawk cannot recover from this and will not be able to fly. It will starve.

 

The second cause---perhaps---is a fright response to lightning in thunderstorms. You can imagine, perhaps, the sounds, heat, and light when a lightning bolt strikes a nearby tree. Hunger traces are clearly caused by hunger, but perhaps also by lightning-induced fright.

 

Zena's hunger trace has not caused any problems, as the entire tail feather remains intact and fully functional.

 

In haggards (adults), hunger traces occur only on the feathers developing at the time the trace occurs, which, then, is only in a few flight feathers. A two-day strong rain and storm period could keep the bird from eating. Or, a lightning strike in a roost-tree in August might cause the trace.

 

The lack of a dark band near the end of some of the feathers is a not uncommon plumage variance. The band, across all the tail feathers, is called the sub-terminal band. But a small percentage of red-tail simply have only portions of it, or it's absent altogether. It's absence creates no problems.

 

--John Blakeman

 

Many thanks John, I had no idea what might have caused the aberrations in Zena's tail!

It's that time of year again when the feeding area becomes quite crowded with returning residents and visitors on their way through-and everyone is keeping an eye on everyone else.  Thirteen-lined Ground Squirrel fresh from her burrow meets the beady eyed gaze of a male Dark-eyed Junco. 

Doorstep accompanied by friend both keep an eye on the newly returned female Dark-eyed Junco.  Three female Juncos held out for most of the winter until fed up with the rude behavior of the males of their species during the few bouts of snow, took off for an all girl trip further south.

Note that the feathers on Doorstep Dove's back still remain half raised and have ever since her interaction with the Cooper's Hawk.  Possible nerve damage?  Whatever the case it doesn't seem to have diminished her capabilities one whit.

 Pyewacket the cat, alert at the door, meets the stare of a male House Finch.  Neither gave an inch.

 The Grackle, accompanied by the ground feeding and ever vigilant House Sparrows, having been thwarted by the weight bar on the mixed seed feeder avails herself of the hordes of seed she spilled on the ground as she pumped the bar up and down with her repeated attempts to fool it.

 I looked out the the door and who should be staring back while perpendicular to the goodie stump with the use of her handy rigid woodpecker tail feathers but a Northern Yellow Shafted Flicker.

Here's a look at the splash of red on her head.

 

Note the glimpse of yellow on the rear edge of her feathers.

And when it comes to staring the Common Grackle's yellow, and I admit even at human size, scary eyes take the top prize for potent looks.

Donegal Browne

Pale Male, Ginger Lima, Red-tail vs Crow, Chicken Eating Robin, Cooper's, Thirteen- lined Ground Squirrel, & John Blakeman

Photo courtesy of palemale.com

Ginger Lima is still bringing grass and other nest bowl material to the bowl. I'm very pleased that the bowl lining is being thickened just in case there is an cold air leakage from the bottom they may have been affecting the egg viability since the carriage was installed.

Next up-
Here is nest watcher Brett Odom's answer to Melody's question about the exact position of the 888 7th Avenue nest site, and the place where the Peregrine suns herself--

The old nest is located on the east side of the building. The building is L shaped and the east side actually has two sides to it. It is the side closest to 7th Avenue, right above the Redeye Grill.
Brett


I was driving along High Street when I saw the bright buffy breast of a Red-tail on the top of a pole with three Crows diving at him. I pulled over, jumped out of the car, and the hawk had taken off with the crows in hot pursuit. I re-spotted them across the street in a small tree. Off I went to get closer.

Typically the crows are cawing their brains out and the Red-tail is a yearling still sporting a brown tail. Though now the hawk is in a tree there is no diving at him as I assume the branches make diving dangerous to the crows.


Eventually the hawk has enough.

And he takes off over the field adjacent to the local high school which has a wooded nature area behind it.

A glide...

...a nip through the branches of a small tree...

...and back out the other side.

He goes for more elevation.

There isn't much in the way of a belly band on this hawk.

He heads for the trees and guess who is perched on the tip top of a tree? Another crow.

My question is whether this crow is a member of the family of crows that is pursuing the hawk or the sentinel of another family of crows that "owns" the nature area territory.

Young hawk goes for a descent into the trees. I look for the sentinel crow. She's gone. I look for the hawk and I've lost sight of him while looking for the crow. More eyes, I need more eyes.

Seed Robin sees a chicken bone that has been put out for the crows.

Seed Robin as it turns out is also Chicken Eating Robin. I want to know why this particular Robin has such a varied and opportunistic diet while the other Robins in the yard waited out today's early snow, waited for the melt, and then went about foraging in the yard like Robins "should". Like Robins have traditionally done all my life. I've tried feeding Robins other things during late snow storms. They stoically were not interested one bit. American Robins eat berries, fruit, worms, bugs, and the like

I assume from the fact that young Robins trot along behind their parents while they forage as juveniles, that Robins are learned eaters.

How did this Robin learn to eat seed and cooked chicken? Perhaps as Pale Male had the unconventional something that allowed him to become the original urban hawk, this Robin has a similar unconventional something going for him?

I do hope he nests nearby and I can see if he will feed his offspring from the buffet that he's been eating from himself.

I looked out the patio door and there was a Thirteen-lined Ground Squirrel sitting on his haunches. But instead of taking off like a shot at my movement beyond the patio door, he just stared. I ran to get the camera.

I came back. He was still staring. And kept staring. At this point, I got the feeling I could wave my hand in front of his eyes and he'd fail to notice. He's not poisoned or anything is he?
Hmmm. His toes are dirty at the tips and he's got dirt on his nose.

Still staring.

Ah, look to the left of Stunned Thirteen-lined Ground Squirrel. That hole is fresh. Did he just dig himself out of an overwintering burrow and it's taking him a minute to "come to"?

An ecstatic experience? Epilepsy?

Then without any particular change in the environment, except that I moved, as I had been already for many minutes with a response from him, and he zipped off in a flash like one of his species "normally" would.

Got me.

Later, I was coming back from the post office and pulled into the driveway. For whatever reason I looked over the roof of the house into the top of one of the backyard Maples. And there, sun streaming through his feathers showing me the barred rounded tail, about to take flight after a group of Robins in the adjacent maple was a Cooper's Hawk! He started an attack flight, I threw open the car door for a better view, CLANG, and he veered back over the roof and headed away at speed.

When I looked up again, the Robins have now changed trees and are in the tree that the Cooper's Hawk started out in. What happened?

More eyes!

John Blakeman responds to my remarks about Bald Eagle Cams and the Cain and Abel Syndrome in Bald Eagles.

Donna,

The Cain and Able Effect, where the older or larger eagle eyass slays the younger sibling seldom occurs in Bald Eagles. It's universal in Golden Eagles, which are extremely aggressive, but seldom in Bald Eagles, which are much, much more social. That's not to imply that younger or smaller Bald Eagle eyasses never die on the nest They do, but seldom from outright sibling aggression or from parental neglect or feeding preference for larger, more aggressive eaglets. Little Baldies that seem not be fed usually get enough food at a future feeding.

John Blakeman

Thank you John, I'm glad the syndrome isn't nearly as prevalent as I'd thought.

An example from PBS of a limited episode of the syndrome, not for the fragile.
www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episodes/american-eagle/.

The Hummingbird in the Tomato Patch, Ground Squirrel Bedding, and What Is That Red-tail Doing?

I looked out the back door and there was something whirring around in the garden. It certainly looked like the movement of a hummingbird, but why whirr in the tomato patch? Tomato blossoms aren't red and they certainly aren't trumpet shaped--both details often repeated in criteria for hummingbird attractants. The female Ruby-throat gave me a look...


...and then returned to her business of sticking her beak into anything remotely resembling a nectar receptacle. The answer came about an hour later when an unexpected, at least to humans, freak storm hit the area.

She'd been stocking up on every conceivably calorie she could get before the huge winds and torrential rain struck. After the storm I saw her or one like her, a touch wet but having survived the zephyr nicely.

When I returned home after over two weeks, the grass in the yard was knee deep and seemingly of almost tropical density. Finding my own mower inexplicably inoperable I borrowed one and went to work. I began to notice that the Thirteen Lined Ground Squirrels were coming out of their holes in droves, collecting great mouthfuls of grass clippings and then streaking back into their abodes before I got anywhere near catching them in the act with the camera.

All that bedding collecting reminded me that Fall and hence Winter is not so far away as I might think.

A thought reinforced by the sudden appearance of great flocks of Canada Geese. Already they are flocking, fattening themselves in grain fields in preparation for migration.

And what about all those young Red-tails that fledged this year and sit by the verges scanning for prey? Are their hunting skills honed enough to make them ready for winter? And just exactly what are they doing up there seemingly just sitting all that time?

This youngster turned out to be habituated to humans enough to allow me to watch for awhile in close proximately.

She was hunting from a wire, about two city blocks away from where Whistle, the Red-tail who times her rodent hunting of the FFA fields to the trains that pass through town, is often seen. From Whistle's flight patterns I've always suspected that her nest is in town though I've never found it due to all the inaccessible private property that surrounds the target area. This young bird who is far more comfortable with the presence of people than any Wisconsin RTH I've observed so far reinforces my idea that whichever hawk's it might be, that there is definitely a town nest that is producing young.


Her postures reminded me very much of Tristan hunting rats, near their holes, up at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.




The trick is not to jump the gun but to be patient enough to allow the rodent to get far enough away from their hole so they can be grabbed before being able to return to it.

A good hunter knows where that invisible line is...and waits for it to be crossed. It's an equation of their own speed and ability and that of the rodent.


Almost to the line, the bird bunches her muscles.

And when the line is not crossed during the prey's foray, she doesn't waste calories trying anyway. She waits.

Gets ready again.


Waits.

No good. She scans the area.


Checks the perimeter for possible enemies.

And goes back to waiting.


Then she's up.

Flying toward the top of the power pole.



Brakes with wings and tail while extending her feet in front of her.


Gets her grip...


and flutters everything into place.


To wait some more.

I get a look.

And then she gets back to her hunting. I realize that though she doesn't mind me all that much per se, I might well be disturbing the prey enough that they might not cross that invisible line with its distance from safety until I leave. Therefore I do.

And for those who wondered what I've been up to the last couple of weeks--a little taste of the Pennsic War. The populace and rulers of Ostgardr, the principality that is mundanely NYC, cross the Battle Field for Opening Ceremonies. I'm holding the green parasol over the Vicerine's head to keep her brain from baking, as a sunhat just won't do with a coronet on high state occasions.

Dinegal Browne