Northwest Bucks and Midwest Red-tails

Big Buck and Little Buck coming near the house to glean for apples under the fruit trees in a night photo by Upton.

Remember Mark Upton, who identified the mystery plants for me? His backdoor opens onto a wildlife area in Washington State with an incredible menagerie of "critters", as he calls them. Many of which he and his family know personally as the animals come near to feed. The photo above is of two Black-tail deer that they've known since they were fawns. The critters out the back door include everything from bear to flying squirrels to Raccoons and Opossum. And, as he says, his mother feels that "No animal should be left behind" he lugs a good many 50 pound sacks of kibble for his mother so she can feed them. (Samantha just walked by and said, "Hmmm. His mother reminds me of someone.") The full report from him in a day or two.

And yes, I've been back in Wisconsin once again, sorry for the lag in the blog, and I finally saw some behavior that we see in Central Park but I'd not seen in country hawks before though I'd been keeping a close eye peeled. Remember how now and again we see Pale Male and Lola flying in big gentle circles accompanied by one or two other Red-tails? No one seems in the least perturbed. No one is running anyone else out of the territory. It all looks quite friendly and well, almost, familial. For lengthy periods of time they all just do gentle circles together in the sky. No herding, no diving, no calls, no nothing. During these interludes the question often arises as to whether the third and sometimes fourth hawk might just be young from previous years.

To visit my father in the VA Hospital, I drive two and half hours north of the rolling gentle hills of the part of Wisconsin where my parent's live, to where an area called The Dells begins. The Dells are one of those strange geographic phenomena, a sudden change of topography and therefore differences in flora and fauna abound. One notices that Birch trees have appeared first off. Then a tall giant outcropping of tower shaped rock suddenly appears in a field. Soon these striking formations become more prevalent until one reaches the river and that is all the topography consists of, outcroppings of stone. They're almost like groupings of small mesas atop an eruption of rock. Though there are trees available for hawk use these outcroppings in fields being much higher than the trees, look to have the possibility of some nifty Red-tail nesting sites. And the population of Red-tails seems even higher than the well populated farmland further south.

Near one of these initial isolated outcroppings seen from the freeway on my journey, I saw the now familiar sight of three Red-tails making lazy circles high above the earth. I pulled over and watched. There was no herding, no calls, no diving, or hostility of any kind. Just three beautiful Red-tail hawks riding the air on a warm winter's day, back lit by blue sky, cruising the currents, making lazy circles with each other. And there they continued in the same area, in what I'd dearly like to think of as a family dance, for the 20 minutes that I dared to stay.

And for those who need a little more brightness in order to see the Black-tail Deer from Washington state more clearly, here's a slightly brightened version of the Upton photo.

HAPPY 2007

You may be having a Happy New Year but this parrot isn't. This is a parrot plotting revenge.

First of all this is an overtired parrot. Making all those fire engine siren sounds at midnight was exhausting. Second he got into the Christmas Cookies and is probably having a sugar crash. Third and this is the biggie, someone had the effrontery to prop the New Year's Eve sunglasses, a new item he's not used to, a major breach of parrot etiquette, next to his perch.

How do I know Silver is plotting revenge?

Lesson one: Parrot Posture and Feather Position, Signal Parrot Emotion.

Look at his feet. They are at the furthest possible point on the perch away from the sunglasses. He does not like them--at all.

His body is expressing annoyance. He's tense, hunched over a bit and if you look closely at his feathers they are ever so slightly raised. See his right wing. If he were over the top angry, angry enough to behaviorally or verbally lie for instance, every feather would be on end and he'd be perpendicular to the perch in a kind of lunge position.

Then there is that straight-on binoc slitty eyed look. A parrot will often look at a person with one eye are the other. True, sometimes with both but never with the long lasting intensity of, well, let's face it, a glare. Unless they're annoyed. And an annoyed parrot is a parrot thinking about getting even.

Being firm believers of serving their revenge up cold for etiquette breaches, I may have to wait for several days for the other shoe to drop.

I'll let you know.

Donegal Browne

Not Seeing the Trees for the Cavities

Not Seeing the Trees for the Cavities...

I'm early. Not knowing just how long it would take me to get to my meeting in Brooklyn and having a horror of being late, I'm not only early, I'm very early. There is more than an hour to do something with.

I read the plaque on the front of "The Friend's Field House" where the meeting is taking place. Which according to the city park's department sign was an athletic field owned by the Quakers early in the last century. In the early 70's it was bought by the city from The Society of Friends and there is now a modern little kid's playground, and a small tennis court that is currently being refurbished that were no doubt added by the city. When the baseball field with it's wooden bleachers arrived I've no idea but the little field house with it's cathedral ceiling, hardwood floors, and dandy working fireplace was constructed in 1937.

Yet there is something about the whole place that has the feel of an even earlier time. Why I'm not sure. But it is the case, even with all the playground equipment so heavily leaning toward brightly colored plastic.

Maybe it's the grounds, all that space, without statuary, geegaws, or little black fences to keep folks off the grass. And perhaps the trees, wait a minute--after doing all that searching for the woodpecker, I'm currently fascinated by cavities. And there's one right there, in which there seems to be a bit of feather or hair hooked on the edge. Maybe if I'm closer I'll be able to tell just what that is.

In less than a minute, the time it took to get a few steps closer, there, instead of a cavity opening, was a Gray Squirrel bottom. And a very healthy sleek squirrel bottom at that. In fact now that I look around there are squirrels everywhere. Shiny healthy fit squirrels that have very bright eyes and lush bushy tails. In a little grassed area near the building perhaps 15 feet by 15 there are 7 of them. They're everywhere. Bounding across branches, hopping through holes, running after each other in a maze of squirrel activity. Why do they look so well?

Looking at the ground, there are spots that are literally still covered with acorns, and it's January, high time they should all be stashed in the ground or in caches. Even with this many squirrels there just aren't enough hours in the day to get them all taken care of. Amazing.

So this is what this animal looks like when it is eating the food it evolved to eat. And if you have this many acorns...

I look up, open my eyes, and finally see all the trees. And these aren't just run of the mill city trees. No London Planes these, but rather mighty mature Oak Trees.

Trees that sink deep, rise high, and have for years. These are trees with girth.

Slow growers are oaks. So it's girth, the niggle at the edge of consciousness that made this patch seem like territory misplaced in time.

Wait, not just seem from another time but actually to be from another time as they are many and they are big. Not something one sees in New York City very often, an actual grove of old oaks surrounding acres of space.

Was it the Friends who planted them? Perhaps some, but others are older, old enough to have been here, well, before.

It's not Muir Woods, but still they're--before.

They are a pleasure, looking up gives me a tingle down my spine. But why? Could it be that there is something that evolved in our DNA like that of the squirrels that makes for human well being as well?

Or is it as the Celts believed? Simply, that a grove of oaks is magic.

Donegal Browne