Loading...
May 03, 2007 - Morning calls of the wild12A • The Suffolk Times • May 3, 2007 Morning calls of the wild It's 5 am. Sunday morning as I pull back the curtain that covers the big picture window. It's now my day be- gins Everything is silhouetted black against the orange -pink sky to the east It's hard to believe that what I am looking at was once all farmland, tilled up to the woods that surrounds our house. Today there are trees, bushes, a garden and my windmill that make up this early- morning silhouette. I leave my desk and step FOCUS outside to hear O N the first songsters of the day, and NATURE what a multitude of songs there by paul are! The robin Stoutenburgh and the crow get the prize for the Ioudest.Then I hear the flicker, one of our largest woodpeckers, telling the world that its nesting cavity is in an old oak tree down the driveway. Previous to its calling, it made the most noise of any bird in its attempt to attract a mate by hammering on our metal chimney cap. You know the kind I mean — they're put on chimney tops to keep out raccoons, which often use a chimney to raise their young, since most of the big old trees they used to use are gone. Well, that chimney cap noise made by the male's repeated hammering could be heard above all other sounds throughout the area Woodpeckers in general don't have a love song, like a robin, so they do the next best thing to be heard. They hammer away on a dead limb of a tree, or your drainpipe, or, yes, on my chimney cap, all in hopes of attracting a mate. We have another large woodpecker that is a relatively newcomer to our area and that is the red - bellied wood- pecker, which doesn't have a red belly at all. If you look hard enough you might see a faint trace of pink on its belly. I can remember when I heard and then saw my first red -bel- lied woodpecker on the North Fork, almost 60 years ago. It, too, lacks an attractive song and has resorted to a continuous monotonous one -syl- table call. It must work, for I see the male and female have a perfect hole they've been chipping away at in the dead limb of a hickory tree over by the woodshed. The soft call of the cardinal is one that can be quite pleasant to hear, but if there is no response, the male will repeat its one - syllable plaintive call for days We've watched one pair in particular that seems to be getting along the way they should during this courtship period.The highly colorful male has been feeding the female. It's something like bringing a box of candy to your best girlfriend in hopes things will turn out the way you want them to later. It's this time of year our white - throated sparrows head north to nest. They have a song that is ever so tender. Their beautiful melody almost rivals the thrush's wondrous song. Phonetically it sounds like ­Old Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody, Pea- body." It ranks almost at the top of my list of favorite bird songs This male flicker clings outside Its nesting cavity, feeding Its young. It Is one of the largest woodpeckers and, like all woodpeckers, uses tree cavities in one form or another to create a nesting site. Amongst the early- morning calls 1 heard was the sharp, piercing call of the blue jay. Like the crow, its near relative, it has a call that is heard far and near. Crows always seem to be talking to each other, and when they find an owl or hawk that's moved into their area, they call other crows from all over to come and help harass this intruder and drive it away That's when you really hear their alarm calls and the ruckus they can make. Then, as nesting time rolls around, both the blue jay and the crow be- come silent Sometimes the blue jay will nest close to your house, often in the shrubbery. Even with all the feed- ing that has to go on, they are hardly ever seen or heard. As the morning brightens, our feed- ers soon become active with chicka- dees, nuthatches, finches, titmice and others Their calls are relatively minor but nevertheless they blend in with the chorus of the early - morning risers Back inside, time goes on and all of a sudden my heart does a flip -flop and I readjust my glasses An osprey has cho- sen my windmill to sit on and have its breakfast.I pick up the binoculars that are always nearby and focus in on the osprey and can see what it is feeding on. It's a bunker, or menhaden, a mem- ber of the herring family that travels in schools with their toothless mouths wide open, filtering out the rich plank- ton of our bays and creeks Its silvery body, toothless mouth and sharp forked tail easily identify this fish. Like most hawks, the osprey starts its meal by eating the head first. For 15 minutes I watch as it tries to bal- ance itself on the metal blades of the windmill and eat its breakfast of fish. It just doesn't work and soon the os- prey flies off to a more stable place to finish its breakfast. I might add that much courtship has taken place around that windmill. As the female osprey sits atop the high- est blade of the "fan," the male rises high above, and then folds its wings in a spectacular dive, swooping up just before he reaches her. Time and again this courtship display goes on, and it's all seen right from my desk through the big picture window. More time passes I watch as they try to build a nest on the windmill. Back and forth they go, bringing all sorts of debris to the site, half of which falls to the ground unused. I'd like to report days later they are still attempting to build their nest, but, as so often happens, these nests are merely the results of beginners, as it is now generally past egg -lay- ing time. We've been told the pair is probably "playing house" for this year. Next year they'll become more serious Extra, extra! Read all about it! For the first time ever, we thought we had a whippoorwill in our woods A strange bird flew up from the leafy ground by the woodshed and lighted on the oil tank alongside the house. It gave Barbara a good chance to see this stranger to our woods Checking our reference books we believe it may have been a chuck - will's - widow, a bird very similar to the whippoorwill and more common today. I'm sure some of you remember hearing the call of the whippoorwill in the evening. I surely do, but that was years ago when I was a kid.Today it's more likely you would hear a chuck - will's -widow calling in the evening than the once more common whip- poorwill. Barbara called me to see her find as it flew toward a neighbor's yard. We got a glimpse of it as it once more flew away. This time it was gone, but we did have a few exiting moments following it around and trying to get a better look. It just goes to prove you never know what you might find right around the corner. M ' 0 The sound of the whippoorwill (shown here), once common on the North Fork, is rarely heard today. The one place you might still hear its call is in the far reaches of the pine barrens, another reason for saving the pine barrens. We believe this week we saw a chuck - will's- widow, a close relative, very similar looking and more common now than the whippoorwill. e Suffolk Times • May 3, 2007 0 or in calls oft e wild Suffolk Times photos by Paul StoutenbL Is male flicker clings outside its nesting cavity, feeding its young. It is a the largest woodpeckers and, like all woodpeckers, uses tree cavities e form or another to create a nesting site. IIIIIIIII It's 5 a.m. Sunday morning as I pull back the curtain that covers the big picture window. It's now my day be- gins. Everything is silhouetted black against the orange -pink sky to the east. It's hard to believe that what I am looking at was once all farmland, tilled up to the woods that surrounds our house. Today there are trees, bushes, a garden and my windmill that make up this early- morning silhouette. I leave my desk and step FOCUS outside to hear O N the first songsters of the day, and NATURE What a multitude of songs there by Paul are! The robin Stoutenburgh and the crow get the prize for the loudest. Then I hear the flicker, one of our largest woodpeckers, telling the world that its nesting cavity is in an old oak tree down the driveway. Previous to its calling, it made the most noise of any bird in its attempt to attract a mate by hammering on our metal chimney cap. You know the kind I mean — they're put on chimney tops to keep out raccoons, which often use a chimney to raise their young, since most of the big old trees they used to use are gone. Well, that chimney cap noise made by the male's repeated hammering could be heard above all other sounds throughout the area. Woodpeckers in general don't have a love song, like a robin, so they do the next best thing to be heard. They hammer away on a dead limb of a tree, or your drainpipe, or, yes, on my chimney cap, all in hopes of attracting a mate. that is a relatively newcomer to our area and that is the red - bellied wood pecker, which doesn't have a red belly at all. If you look hard enough you might see a faint trace of pink on its belly. I can remember when I heard and then saw my first red -bel- lied woodpecker on the North Fork, almost 60 years ago. It, too, lacks an attractive song and has resorted to a continuous monotonous one -syl- lable call. It must work, for I see the male and female have a perfect hole they've been chipping away at in the dead limb of a hickory tree over by the woodshed. The soft call of the cardinal is one that can be quite pleasant to hear, but if there is no response, the male will repeat its one - syllable plaintive call for days. We've watched one pair in particular that seems to be getting along the way they should during this courtship period. The highly colorful male has been feeding the female. It's something like bringing a box of candy to your best girlfriend in hopes things will turn out the way you want them to later. It's this time of year our white - throated sparrows head north to nest. They have a song that is ever so tender. Their beautiful melody almos rivals the thrush's wondrous song. Phonetically it sounds like "Old Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody, Pea- body." It ranks almost at the top of Imy list of favorite bird songs. Amongst the early - morning calls I heard was the sharp, piercing call of the blue jay. Like the crow, its near relative, it has a call that is heard far and near. Crows always seem to be talking to each other, and when they find an owl or hawk that's moved into their area, they call other crows from all over to come and help harass this intruder and drive it away. That's when you really hear their alarm calls and the ruckus they can make. Then, as nesting time rolls around, both the blue jay and the crow be- come silent. Sometimes the blue jay will nest close to your house, often in the shrubbery. Even with all the feed- ing that'has to go on, they are hardly ever seen or heard. As the morning brightens, our feed- ers soon become active with chicka- dees, nuthatches, finches, titmice and others. Their calls are relatively minor but nevertheless they blend in with the chorus of the early- morning risers. e. The sound of the whippoorwill (shown here), once common on the North Fork, is rarely heard today. The one place you might still hear its call is in the far reaches of the pine barrens; another reason for saving the pine barrens. We believe this week we saw a chuck - will's- widow, a close relative, very similar looking and more common now than the whippoorwill. Back inside, time goes on and all of a sudden my heart does .a flip -flop and I readjust my glasses. An osprey has cho- sen my windmill to sit on and have its breakfast. I pick up the binoculars that are always nearby and focus in on the osprey and can see what it is feeding on. It's a bunker, or menhaden, a mem- ber of the herring family that travels in schools with their toothless mouths wide open, filtering out the rich plank ton of our bays and creeks. Its silvery body, toothless mouth and sharp forked tail easily identify this fish. Like most hawks, the osprey starts its meal by eating the head first. For 15 minutes I watch as it tries to bal- ance itself on the metal blades of the windmill and eat its breakfast of fish. It just doesn't work and soon the os- prey flies off to a more stable place to finish its breakfast. I might add that much courtship has taken place around that windmill. As the female osprey sits atop the high- est blade of the "fan," the male rises high above, and then folds its wings in a spectacular dive, swooping up just before he reaches her. Time and again this courtship display goes on, and it's all seen right from my desk through the big picture window. More time passes. I watch as they try to build a nest on the windmill. Back and forth they go, bringing all sorts of debris to the site, half of which falls to the ground unused. 1'd like to report days later they ar still attempting to build their nest, but, as so often happens, these nests are merely the results of beginners, as it is now generally past egg -lay- ing time. We've been told the pair is probably "playing house" for this year. Next year they'll become more serious. Extra, extra! Read all about it! For the first time ever, we thought we had a whippoorwill in our woods. A strange bird flew up from the leafy ground by the woodshed and lighted on the oil tank alongside the house. It gave Barbara a good chance to see this stranger to our woods. Checking our reference books we believe it may have been a chuck - will's- widow, a bird very similar to the whippoorwill and more common today. I'm sure some of you remember hearing the call of the whippoorwill in the evening. I surely do, but that was years ago when I was a kid. Today it's more likely you would hear a chuck - will's -widow calling in the evening than the once more common whip- poorwill. Barbara called me to see her find as it flew toward a neighbor's yard. We got a glimpse of it as it once more flew away. This time it was gone, but we did have a few exciting moments following it around and trying to get a better look. It just goes to prove you never know what you might find right