Sank goes to the birds

Yet another summer weekend at the lake. Officially, we’re about halfway through our summer now and it’s appropriate for me to say, “summer is ripping by”. The weekend after the fourth of July, pretty quiet on the lake, for one thing the rockets and the explosions and all that sort of nonsense is down to about 10% of what it was on the 4^th. Here in Wisconsin Lake Country it actually never completely stops until after Labor Day. When the Israeli cousin was living here and would come visit most weekends, he used to say the Saturday nights on the lake were disconcerting because the he kept having to remind himself that there wasn’t a firefight over the next tree line or that a home made rocket hadn’t hit somewhere nearby.

Nothing like that at 6:00 in the morning however, when I usually sit out on the patio and drink my coffee. Not that it’s quiet out there mind you, it’s still pretty noisy, only it’s all about bird noises and wind in the trees, which is sort of the point behind the whole place really. Being a bird geek, just one of my geeky hobbies of course. Typically the loons like to announce the crack of dawn with a nice mournful sound.

The star bird this weekend, an osprey. Who really needs to watch Good Morning America on a Sunday morning when you can take your coffee out on the deck and watch one of these big birds glide over at about 50 feet, suddenly pull up, tuck the wings and dive in to the water not 50 feet from where I was sitting.

That’s not the best part. As the bird was flapping away to make it’s climb up to cruising altitude, from out of the pine trees two houses down, one of the largest eagles I’ve ever seen comes swooping down, heading directly for the osprey and his prize. The eagle chased the osprey across the lake catching him about half way across where mid-air mind you, the eagle goes for the fish and both birds, and these are huge birds, talons clutching the same prey spin around the fish as they fall out of the sky. Sort of avian game of chicken to see who would let go first before hitting the water.

Eagle won btw.

The other big news around here, I guess it’s news, my oriole feeder seems to have some steady customers. I didn’t realize that orioles were such skittish birds. I have the feeder hanging off my deck and they won’t come near it when I’m sitting on the deck. They’ll fly to nearby tress and stare at it, but I have to be inside to watch them.

And there’s Mrs. Robin. Mrs. Robin and I are going to have to chat. She built a nest under my deck, (the deck is second story deck, so we sit under it too) about April. She and Mr. Robin had their family, they laid their eggs and I left them alone. By about May 15 the birds had fledged and I was going to get rid of the nest.

Memorial Day, just be sure I check the nest with my cell phone camera, the only way you can get a look is to reach up and hold the camera over the nest. There were two more eggs in it. I’m sure my Rabbi would be happy to know I left them, it is prescribed in Jewish law that you’re not supposed harm birds on their nests. Not sure how that applies to chickens however.

By July 1^st the there were two very large adolescent robins, too big to sit in the nest together, taking turns sitting on the nest and crapping on my deck. One of them tried to fly when I walked up to open the place one Friday, wasn’t able too quite yet, fell to the ground and in fear ran through the open door into the house, where she ran, daughter in pursuit through den and into the kitchen and tried to hide behind the trash can. Even I have limits on cross-species cohabitation . I picked her up and carried her home, putting her back in the nest. By the 4^th all the birds were gone. I put “remove nest” on my todo list, a magical place of extraordinarily useful ideas which in reality never actually get done.

This one, I shouldda done. This weekend, as I was sitting on the deck, here’s Mrs. Robin, sitting on my BBQ, head cocked looking at me in that way that says “Get your fat ass away from my house”. Not again.. Sure enough, batch 3, three eggs this time. Seriously bird, that makes 7 chicks year so far this summer. What d’ya think ya’are, geese.

Speaking of which, the lake goose armada swam by yesterday 33 individuals strong. 33 canada geese, no wonder the lawn is covered in goose turds. That number BTW, is from three nesting pairs. We need a few more predators out here. When the geese are small I’ve seen muskies take them off the water. No muskie is going to hit a 11lb pound goose this far from Christmas.

We have a local blue heron that likes to hang out on the dock. Personally I think he looks a lot like a pterodactyl, especially when he’s flying. He’s a beautiful bird to watch and I do enjoy him, or did, until he starting coming to see me whenever he needed to poop. Big birds, big poops, and unlike geese who eat grass and subsequently poop reprocessed grass, unsightly to be sure but nothing like the reprocessed frogs and fish. I’ve now determined that herons spend a great deal of their time shitting. And their shit, very high on the disgusto meter. Imagine my buddy Donnie who, in winter, during the ice fishing trips we go out goes on a diet of pickled eggs. Very similar I’m afraid.

Speak of big prehistoric looking birds. Last Tuesday the daughter and I, on the way home pulled out of the drive way at 6:30am and were treated to 4 sandhill cranes in the field across the street. They, are some impressive critters. I’m sure these things stand about 5’ tall. They were out the bean field feeding on bugs I’m sure. Not a sight you get to see every day.

Last weekend we had a couple yellow warblers hanging around the patio. Warblers are the “advanced” subject of bird watchers in this country. Advanced because 1) they’re small and they don’t sit still making them hard to identify. 2) entire taxomic families of these critters look the same, with only a strip here or a eyelash there to differentiate them and finally, in the fall, when they migrate, all 125 species or what ever, turn the same light brown color for their trip down south. Picking a warbler out of the crowd, difficult under good conditions. I think this was the probably the reason that James Audubon, America’s first great birder, who hand drew every pictures of every bird he could find, shot them first.

Sad to say in another couple the weeks the purple martins will be leaving us for South America, they’re the first migrants to leave. They’ll be followed shortly by warblers and by the middle of September the broad winged hawks and turkey vultures will be gone.

By then it’ll be snowing and sitting on the deck will be a low priority.