February 03, 2005 - Feeding amid a storm's furythe Suffolk Cmes.
Official Newspaper of Southold Town
Feeding amid a storm's fury
Focus on Nature
By Paul Stoutenburgh
January 23rd — the day of the Great
Blizzard of 2005. I just had to sit down
and put this raging snowstorm on tape. It
is really quite spectacular.
From inside our warm living room we get
only glimpses of our windmill 300 feet
away. Like a ghost ship, it appears and
disappears in the raging, swirling snow.
What seems so scary, if that's the right
word, is the wind that's howling high up
in the treetops.
The hardest hit at a time like this are the
little birds we call ground feeders. With
the snow covering the ground, their food supply is cut off. To help them along, many
of us put birdseed out, but too often it gets covered over with snow. Yet there's one
spot open on our patio, cleared by the wind, and that's where we throw our seed,
even though half of it is blown away. With no other food available, birds flock to our
oasis on the patio.
We were surprised the day of the great
blizzard to look out on our patio and see
a new visitor, an inquisitive deer helping
itself to some birdseed.
Times /Review photos by Barbara
Stoutenburgh
One of the first to arrive at our feeders in almost complete darkness is the junco, or
some call it the snowbird. That name surely is appropriate for the day. It's a small,
slate -gray bird with white in its tail. It doesn't stay year -round but heads north at
nesting time to the woods of Canada and the Adirondacks and upstate New York.
Another northern visitor is the white- throated sparrow, the one that has a white bib
under its chin. Some white- throats haven't matured enough as yet to have their white
chin patch. It's another typical ground feeder that scurries around, intent on finding its
share of the seeds.
Yesterday we had 24 doves here on the patio and there are even more today. We
also have four or five starlings. They come in strutting like they own the place. Their
bills are still dark - colored but, as spring approaches, they will turn yellow. The starling
is an opportunist and is eating seeds today, but tomorrow it will more likely be eating
something else, somewhere else.
We have a new type of feeder that's supposed to be squirrel - proof, and so far it has
been good in that respect. But a cardinal has found that, if it sits on a certain lever, it
can have an endless supply of sunflower seeds, and so it sits there shelling the
seeds, paying little attention to the wild world around it. Every once in a while the little
bluish -gray titmouse slips in behind it, lifts up its threatening crest, grabs a seed and
takes off. In and out it goes, the cardinal too busy to chase it away.
We often find chickadees and titmice traveling together, and so it is at the feeder. No
sooner does one grab a sunflower seed from the feeder and fly off than the other
moves in, gets a seed and is off. Chickadees are wonderful little birds, ones we never
tire of seeing. Somehow they're able to survive no matter what. I wonder where they
spend these frigid nights. I hope in some sheltered cavity of a tree or perhaps in one
of my bird boxes — that is, if a family of deer mice hasn't taken it over. I know the
The Suffolk Times I Feeding amid a storm's fury
mice use my boxes, for when I clean them out in the spring there is usually a
collection of empty nut shells along with a cozy nest telling me they've enjoyed their
winter stay.
Another visitor is the "upside -down bird" or the white - breasted nuthatch. It zips in and
out, taking a sunflower seed and then, up the tree, where it tucks it in the bark,
working at it to get the morsel inside. On occasions the nuthatch will forego its
favorite sunflower seed to fly over and have a bit of suet
There's a whole group of sparrows out there. Probably the one you're most familiar
with is the song sparrow. What a lovely song it sings in the spring. It has a dark spot
on its breast that makes it easy to identify. If we're lucky, we might see the little
chipping sparrow. It's always a welcome visitor. It often builds its nest close to the
ground in our garden. Its identifying characteristic is its rufous cap. We wouldn't want
to leave out the house sparrows and the finches. They're both bullies and always get
their share of the pickings.
We keep our eyes out for the more interesting and unusual sparrows, such as the
secretive fox sparrow that showed up today for the first time. This sparrow is streaked
with rusty red and has a rufous -red tail. We see it maybe once or twice a year, and
then it's gone. Usually it's foretelling approaching storms such as we're having right
sow.
Oh, here comes a Carolina wren. We have a pair that often nests in our garage.
Here's a bird that can be heard singing any time of the year. It seems to always be
looking here and there for spiders and their eggs or some other dormant insects that
hibernate under the picnic table, around the chairs on the patio or under the eaves of
the house. Right now it seems to be picking up pieces of seed. I hope it makes it
through this buzzard.
There's another group of birds that stands alone, and that's the woodpeckers. They
mainly come to our suet feeders or bags of suet. Suet is high in protein. Of the
woodpeckers, the red - bellied is the most obvious and noisiest. It doesn't have a very
red belly, but does have a beautiful red swath over the top of its head and down the
back of its neck. Its a daily visitor to our suet, along with the little black- and -white
downy woodpecker. Besides those two, we occasionally get the big black- and -white
hairy woodpecker that is almost twice the size of the downy. Its hard to tell the size
difference until they're seen together. Once in a while the downy will fly over and
check out the sunflower feeder, take one and fly away with it to work on at its leisure.
Many people aren't familiar with using suet at their feeders. It can be purchased at
your local grocery store. Put it in one of those open mesh orange bags and hang it
well out on a limb so a raccoon won't get at it.
Those of you who watch feeders know there's a special one you should get, and
that's a gotdrinch feeder. ft's a Fong tube you fiff with thistle seed and, if you're lucky,
you'll soon have goldfinches. Once they've discovered it, they'll come to your thistle
feeder time after time. Sometimes as many as six goldfinches will be feeding at one
time, all hanging upside down to get at the seeds.
Sooner or later there'll be a hawk around your feeder, looking for a meal. Remember
they're part of nature's overall system. Often you see all the birds at your feeders
disappear at one time and wonder why. It usually means there's a hawk in the area.
These hawks are what we call woodland hawks because their short rounded wings
and long tails let them maneuver in the woods and around branches. They often go
right into the brush to capture their prey.
Oh, yes, one thing more about the feeding of birds out on my snowbound patio. We
had a late visitor in the afternoon. A deer came up on the patio, just eight feet from
our window, and helped itself to some of our birdseed.
0 2005 Times- Review Newspapers
Page 2 of 2
http: / /www2.timesreview.com/ST /community /296636061383200.php 2/4/2005
S66"MF6edina
• •
a storm's fur
Times /Review photos by Barbara Stoutenburgh
We were surprised the day of the great blizzard to look out on our patio and see a new visitor, an inquisitive deer
helping Itself to some birdseed.
January 23rd — the day of the
Great Blizzard of 2005. I just had to
sit down and put this raging snow-
storm on tape. It is really quite spec-
tacular. From inside our warm living
room we get only glimpses of our
windmill 300 feet away. Like a ghost
ship, it appears and disappears in the
raging, swirling snow. What seems so
scary, if that's
the right word,
FOCUS is the wind
that's howling
ON high up in the
treetops.
NATURE The hardest
by Pa hit at a time like
this are the lit -
Stoutenburgh tle birds we call
around feeders.
With the snow covering the ground,
their food supply is cut off. To help
them along, many of us put birdseed
out, but too often it gets covered
over with snow. Yet there's one spot
open on our patio, cleared by the
wind, and that's where we throw our
seed, even though half of it is blown
away. With no other food available,
birds flock to our oasis on the patio.
One of the first to arrive at our
feeders in almost complete darkness
is the junco, or some call it the snow
bird. That name surely is appropriate
for the day. It's a small, slate -gray
bird with white in its tail. It doesn't
stay year -round but heads north at
nesting time to the woods of Canad,
and the Adirondacks and upstate
New York. —
Another northern visitor is the
hite- throated sparrow, the one
that has a white bib under its chin.
Some white - throats haven't matured
enough as yet to have their white chic
patch. It's another typical ground
feeder that scurries around, intent on
finding its share of the seeds.
Yesterday we had 24 doves here
on the patio and there are even
more today. We also have four or
five starlings. They come in strutting
like they own the place. Their bills
are still dark - colored but, as spring
approaches, they will turn yellow.
The starling is an opportunist and is
eating seeds today, but tomorrow it
will more likely be eating something
else, somewhere else.
We have a new type of feeder
that's supposed to be squirrel - proof,
and so far it has been good in that
respect. But a cardinal has found —
that, if it sits on a certain lever, it can
have an endless supply of sunflower
seeds, and so it sits there shelling the
seeds, paying little attention to the
wild world around it. Every once in a
while the little bluish -gray titmouse
slips in behind it, lifts up its threat-
ening crest, grabs a seed and takes
off. In and out it goes, the cardinal
too busy to chase it away.
We often find chickadees and tit-
mice traveling together, and so it is
at the feeder. No sooner does one
grab a sunflower seed from the feed-
er and fly off than the other moves
in, gets a seed and is off. Chicka-
dees are wonderful little birds, ones
we never tire of seeing. Somehow
they're able to survive no matter
what. I wonder where they spend
these frigid nights. I hope in some
sheltered cavity of a tree or perhaps
in one of my bird boxes — that is, if
a family of deer mice hasn't taken it
over. I know the mice use my boxes,
for when I clean them out in the
spring there is usually a collection of
empty nut shells along with a cozy
nest telling me they've enjoyed their
winter stay.
Another visitor is the "upside-
down bird" or the white - breasted
nuthatch: It zips in and out. taking a
sunflower seed and then, up the tree,
where it tucks it in the bark, working
it it to get the morsel inside. On oc-
- asions the nuthatch will forego its
favorite sunflower seed to fly over
and have a bit of suet.
There's a whole group of spar-
rows out there. Probably the one
you're most familiar with is the song
sparrow. What a lovel song it sings
in the spring. It has
a dark spot on its
breast that makes it
easy to identify. If
we're lucky, we might
see the little chipping
sparrow. It's always
a welcome visitor. It
often builds its nest
close to the ground in our garden. Its
identifying characteristic is its rufous
cap. We wouldn't want to leave out
the house sparrows and the finches.
They're both bullies and always get
their share of the pickings.
We keep our eyes out for the mor
interesting and unusual sparrows,
such as the secretive fox sparrow
that showed up today for the first
time. This sparrow is streaked with
rusty red and has a rufous -red tail.
We see it maybe once or twice a
year, and then it's gone. Usually it's
foretelling approaching storms such
as we're having right now.
Oh, here comes a Carolina wren.
We have a pair that often nests in
our garage. Here's a bird that can be
heard singing any time of the year.
It seems to. always be looking here
and there for spiders and their eggs
or some other dormant insects that
hibernate under the picnic table,
around the chairs on the patio or
under the eaves of the house. Right
now it seems to be picking up piece
of seed. I hope it makes it through
this blizzard.
There's another group of birds
that stands alone, and that's the
woodpeckers. They mainly come
to our suet feeders or bags of suet.
Suet is high in protein. Of the wood
peckers, the red - bellied is the most
obvious and noisiest. It doesn't have
a very red belly, but does have a
beautiful red swath over the top of
its head and down the back of its
neck. It's a daily visitor to our suet,
along with the little black- and -white
downy woodpecker. Besides those
two, we occasionally get the big
black- and -white hairy woodpecker
that is almost twice the size of the
downy. It's hard to tell the size dif-
ference until they're seen together.
Once in a while the
downy will fly over
and check out the
sunflower feeder,
take one and fly away
with it to work on at
its leisure.
Many people aren't
familiar with using
suet at their feeders. It can be pur-
chased at your local grocery store.
Put it in one of those open mesh or-
ange bags and hang it well out on a
limb so a raccoon won't get at it.
Those of you who watch feed-
ers know there's a special one you
should get, and that's a goldfinch
feeder. It's a long tube you fill with
thistle seed and, if you're lucky,
you'll soon have goldfinches. Once
they've discovered it, they'll come to
your thistle feeder time after time.
Sometimes as many as six gold-
finches will be feeding at one time,
all hanging upside down to get at the
seeds.
Sooner or later there'll be a hawk
around your feeder, looking for a
meal. Remember they're part of
nature's overall system. Often you
see all the birds at your feeders dis-
appear at one time and wondeir why.
It usually means there's a hawk in
the area. These hawks are what we
call woodland hawks because their
short rounded wings and long tails
let them maneuver in the woods and
around branches. They often go right
into the brush to capture their prey.
Oh, yes, one thing more about the
feeding of birds out on my snow-
bound patio. We had a late visitor in
the afternoon. A deer came up on
the patio, just eight feet from our
window, and helped itself to some of
our birdseed.
The fox sparrow is
known to foretell
an approaching
storm.