Magpie: Our Black and White Jay
The Black-Billed Magpie is an extreme bird. People either love ‘um or hate ‘um. They probably have more detractors than supporters. However, I am one who likes this beautiful bird. Their satiny black and white feathers and long tails are most attractive. Seen in the right light, their feathers shine with an iridescence. People from the east who haven’t experienced this species are usually very impressed – much as westerners are with Blue Jays when visiting eastern states.
Like all jays, this bird is very raucous. When they are near, you can hear them “jabbering away” to each other. This intelligent species would have to be considered the valedictorian of the bird world. Very alert to their surroundings and very hard to approach, they have been known to do clever things – like the one that dropped nuts at a stop light. The nuts would be cracked when the traffic ran over them. The bird would then fly in to get the results when the light changed.
They are a year-round bird and very adaptable. As generalists, their diet covers a wide range from fruits, grains, worms, slugs, and insects to small animals like snakes and mice. They also do much scavenging and are often seen on highways taking advantage of the “road-kill”. Magpies are early nesters and build roofed, dome shaped nests of sticks that protect the eggs from the early spring weather. The same nest is used each year. Five to nine eggs are laid and are incubated for 16 to 18 days. When fledging, the young have short tails which elongate as they mature. By early nesting, they are gone from the tree when other species arrive.
We have other jays in Cassia County: the Scrub Jay which is blue and gray, the Pinyon Jay which is all blue, Clark’s Nutcracker which is gray, black, and white, the American Crow, and the Common Raven. All are raucous, opportunistic, smart, and adaptable. The Black-billed has a cousin – the Yellow-billed which is slightly smaller and found in central California. Magpie behavior is always interesting. I’ve watched them “mob” hawks and owls, sneak food away from larger animals, and even perch on the rumps of deer – getting great pleasure out of annoying their hosts.
The Red Crossbill: An Unusual Beak
This beak is not deformed. Nature intended it to be thus. It is an adaptation for the opening of cones. While useful for that purpose, it does make the bird into a specialist and whether the beak crosses to the right or to the left runs about 50-50. Crossbills must have coniferous forests in order to survive and because conifer cones may last on the tree up to 20 years, there is no need to migrate out of an area of good cone production. Therefore their movements are irregular and controlled by cone availability.
There are two species of crossbills in North America: the Red Crossbill and the White-Winged Crossbill. The red variety is hard to “spot”, but is very abundant in the Cassia and Twin Falls mountain areas. The more glamorous White-Winged one is an inhabitant of boreal (northern) forests.
These interesting birds may not come to seed feeders, but water can be a major attraction. They are very gregarious and will come in to drink in large groups. The all-red, mature male is pictured. Immature birds are boldly streaked brown. The females are yellowish-olive and may show patches of red. The species is 6 ¼” long, with a large head, and a short, notched tail.
Different strains of the species are each adapted to a specific tree type (i.e. Lodgepole Pine, Ponderosa Pine, Douglas Fir, etc). Other species such as finches, chickadees, and siskin benefit from the nuts not consumed after a cone is opened. Crossbills are also quite vocal and will call while in flight. Each individual’s calls may vary somewhat from other individuals, giving that bird a character of its own. It gives a rapid series of harsh “jip” notes, started with several two-note phrases and followed by a warbled trill.
The female lays three eggs, but only two individuals usually fledge and there is about a 12% survival rate of the young into the second year. It is enough, however, to maintain the bird’s population numbers.
The crossbills of our south hills have the largest beaks of their kind. They are an isolated population and researchers are thinking of denoting them as a separate species. When camping, the presence of crossbills gives one a true flavor of the mountain experience. It is a truly unique bird!
The Cattle Egret: A Pasture Presence
The CATTLE EGRET, also called the Buff-backed Heron, is the
white bird seen in pictures following elephants or other large animals. It
originated in Africa, but has spread worldwide. The bird especially likes the
tropics, subtropics, or warm temperate zones.
Unlike other birds in its family, this wading species feeds in relatively dry
grassy habitats. It conserves energy by following cattle or other large mammals.
The feet of mammals stir up bugs (especially grasshoppers) and small vertebrates
in the grass, thus making predation easier. This bird can also be found in
wetlands, where it catches frogs and fish. However, it is most often found near
farmland where following either livestock or machinery produces excellent
foraging results.
You can occasionally see it here in Idaho, but don’t confuse it with other
white egrets. This one has an orangey plume and back during its breeding season.
It is 19 to 21 inches tall, has a short, yellow bill, and light orange legs. It
has an interesting upright posture (almost penguin-like) that is different from
other herons.
This species is very social and gathers in colonies. Thus, each territory is
quite small, but the male is very defensive of it and will evict all other
egrets except one female. He will bring materials (sometime stealing from other
egret nests) to the female who builds a nest of sticks. She lays 3 to 5 eggs,
which both parents incubate and feed after hatching.
We have often seen this white bird of pastures and roadsides all over Florida
and in southern Texas where there are sizable populations. A few years ago, we
were excited to see a Cattle Egret, in the used-to-be alfalfa field, just south
of our home.
A bird in the hand equals two in the bush
By Dave Hanks
Tiny little claws grasp and tickle my fingers. It’s a BLACK- CAPPED CHICKADEE – a small bird that is named for its call and black cap. If you are in the woods you hear the call “chick-a-dee-dee-dee”, it is unmistakably this bird.
We have two Chickadee species in Cassia County: the Black-Capped and the Mountain. The Mountain Chickadee is told from the Black-Capped by a white eyebrow stripe and is the more common in our county. Both prefer higher elevation woodlands of both deciduous and coniferous trees. They usually forage in the lower branches where they are often seen feeding by hanging upside down. When not nesting, they gather in huge flocks. They are insectivorous but will come to feeders containing seed.
As you can see, they can also be lured onto ones hand, perch on your camera, or even alight on your head. Following a Chickadee call can lead you to other species, which they tend to feed in a group with; such as woodpeckers, nuthatches, warblers, and kinglets. They may even lead you to owls that are sitting on their daytime roosts. These frisky fellows are a favorite winter visitor to bird feeding stations.
Night Sounds
An owl’s soft call speaks plainly now.
He talks so hauntingly.
The cool night breeze wafts it forth.
It resounds from tree to tree.
The crunch of jaws, upon something hard –
Adds mystery to the night.
Where is it at? What might it be?
It’s somewhere near but out of sight.
The rustling leaves, by creatures small –
That scurry to and fro.
They all cause questions to arise.
What are they? I’d like to know.
Off in the distance, such a plaintive howl -
Emotions it subtly wrenches!
A lone Coyote that sounds so sad -
Reaches deep into my senses.
I lie in the dark. Sleep will not come.
As sounds, whether loud or small -
Excite my thoughts at what’s out there.
I wonder about it all.
www.davesnaturephotos.com
The Sacred Cow
How often I have mused about the Hindu tradition of sacred
cows and how asinine it is. Ridiculous because millions of
people starve while a source of food is running free in the
streets. Not only is the meat lost but the cattle put a lot of
heavy competition on the human population for the valuable
vegetative matter. How tragic – to live by a system that allows
this to happen.
However, I have come to realize that India is not the only
country with the “sacred bovine”. The desire to elevate the
animal seems to run through all cultures and is manifested in
various ways. The Children of Israel made their “Golden Calf”.
African tribes revere the Zebu – scrawny beasts that contribute
little except as status symbols. They repay the tribesmen by
being scourges upon the landscape. Other peoples have a
more practical relationship. Laplander cattle are their reindeer.
Eskimos and northern Indians look to the Caribou with the same
reverence. The American Indian felt the same about Bison
until “white man ” arrived to slaughter the vast majority of them.
Only, in their turn, to replace them with European-type cattle.
Are the “white man’s” cattle sacred? I thought not, but have
since had a change of mind. You have to look hard to find
another industry that is subsidized by the federal government
to the degree that livestock producers are. Their animals run
upon the public lands for a mere pittance of a fee. But even
that is not as devastating as the greed that motivates the over
population of the beasts upon the land in order to harvest every
vestige of grass. Even though they damage ecosystems, it’s
hands off – they must not be disturbed!
Cattle have always held a soft spot in my heart. To see them
grazing on a hillside or in a meadow still causes my heart to
“skip a beat”. Fond memories of 4-H projects from my teenage
years were a major spur to cause me to seek my dreams in the
cattle business. The quest for a high quality Angus herd was
an obsession that filled my early adult life. It didn’t matter so
much that this quest was, for me, economically unfeasible – what
really mattered was that my bovines were of a kind that would
place them at the top end of their breed.
Well, economics finally had the say in the end, but dreams die
hard. My love for the “cow” is so deep rooted that I couldn’t bear
to part with all of them. I would be better of without them. They
tie-up my life activities – every trip away from home requires
extensive preparations for their care and safety. They are also
hard on fences causing constant attention to the same. When
they do get out, they’re an irritant to the neighbors. NEVERTHELESS,
I CAN’T HELP BUT LOVE THEM. There is something very beautiful about
a large, beefy, sleek cow feeding in a pasture. A beauty that endears
them as if they were actually a family member.
Yes, upon reflection, I can clearly see that the cow is indeed
sacred!
www.davesnaturephotos.com
