European Starlings in America: Innocents Abroad or Lord of the Flies?

In my last post, I mentioned seeing a mysterious new species of bird at my feeders.  On further research, I discovered that they are European (English) Starlings.  And wouldn't you know, they are here because of the famous Englishman William Shakespeare and an infamous American Eugene Schieffelin, a gentleman who, in the name of art, tampered with nature and caused a major disaster. 

Apparently as president of the American Acclimatization Society, Schieffelin came up with the brilliant idea of introducing to America every bird species mentioned in the works of the great bard.  In 1890, he released about 60 starlings to Central Park--and there are now somewhere between 140-200 million!

According to an article on "invasive species" (which says it all), "Starlings are among the worst nuisance species in North America. The birds travel in enormous flocks; pose danger to air travel; disrupt farms; displace native birds; and roost on city blocks. Corrosive droppings on structures cause hundreds of millions of dollars of yearly damage. In 2008 the U.S. government poisoned, shot or trapped 1.7 million, the most of any nuisance species."   

^{http://www.invasivespeciesinfo.gov/animals/eurostarling.shtml}  

Welcome to America! 

Actually, if you think about it, they do exemplfy the American Dream.  Wrenched from their homeland and plucked down in the heart of New York, they have managed to survive and thrive from sea to shining sea.  They are driven and determined little creatures, letting nothing, not even the U.S. government, get in their way.  

So it is no surprise that even on the foggiest, windiest day up here in the San Bernardino Mountains, in the pouring rain, with temperatures close to freezing and soon to bring snow, these hardy birds were the only ones at my feeders a few weeks ago, polishing off what seed was left. 

I do admire their pluck and tenacity though their fierce spirit can be intimidating.  I can't help but wonder if their ancesters in Europe were quite as intense or if this is a result of assimilation in America.

Perhaps it's time for a name change?   This new species of  European Starlings might be more appropriately known as  American Starlings.  What do you think?

For more information:
http://natureali.org/european_starling.htm
http://icwdm.org/handbook/birds/EuropeanStarlings.asp
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Starling

Feed Them and They Will Come or Lakeview Dining Open Year Round

                                
My last blog ended with my questioning what birds, if any, would stick around once winter set in.  I got my answer just last week!  On November 4th we had our first snow--just a couple of inches, but enough to give us a taste of winter, and enough for me to learn about our birds' migrating habits.

And what I learned was that if you continue to put food out for them, they will stick around.  In fact they will throng to your feeders and eat together, or should I say elbow each other aside for the best seat.  No more pecking order, unless something really large, like a raven or a band-collared pigeon swoops down, but generally they eat side by side. 

Northern Flicker with a Purple Finch

Mountain Chickadees and Finches

Lesser Goldfinch with Flicker

Even my tiny Lesser Goldfinches returned to the wind socks

 and if you look at the hummingbird feeder to the right of the water bowl, you will see a hummingbird  perched on the side.  In fact, I have never seen so many hummingbirds at this feeder since the weather turned.   Now that there are no flowers to feed from, I guess they'll be coming here.

This little one tried to get a drink from the frozen bowl of ice, then hopped down to the snow below and pecked away at that.

Since then, my husband and I take turns chopping through the ice in the bowl if it's just the top layer or adding warm water to melt it.

I talked to a few locals who are knowledgable about birds and asked if I am putting my birds in danger by providing food when the temperatures dip below freezing.  All reassured me that they wouldn't stay if they couldn't survive, plus they are just a day's flight or less down the mountain to warmer climate. Just when I thought I'd be spending less money on bird food each month, I am buying more.  I now have more birds than ever!

...and even a few  newcomers.   I am not sure what this bird is, although I'm wondering if it's a young Northern Flicker.  Does anyone out there know?  I've looked through my books and can't find it.  It does resemble the flicker a bit and as my husband pointed out, the tail feathers don't look fully developed. 

All I know is that they come in small groups daily.

                                                                                                 
I am curious to see if they will all continue to enjoy fine dining at my lake view restaurant once winter really settles in.  We'll soon see.

Early Morning is for the Birds

I love waking up just before sunrise, sitting on the deck with a cup of coffee, and watching the birds appear one by one at my feeders.  There's a whole pecking order--no pun intended (or is there?)--as they busily feed first thing in the morning.  Size does matter in this case.  The tinier birds, even though larger in number, still make way for bigger birds. 

First to feed are the red-topped Acorn Woodpeckers.  Very skittish, they slowly and painstakingly make their way to the suet feeder, looking around constantly, ready to take flight with even the slightest of movement.  Their undulating flight back to their home tree across the way is a joy to watch.  Like dolphins in water, they dip and rise and dip and rise.

                             

Next to come, and in large numbers, are the Lesser Goldfinches who cling to the thistle sock feeders even in the fiercest of winds.  One day I counted thirty-five at once!  Like bees swarming at a hive, they fight to find a spot on the feeder and won't let go, except to take turns getting a drink of water.

                            

                         

                                        

Once the Northern Flickers arrive, the Goldfinches step aside--literally!  Usually they take flight to the nearest branch or wire, but sometimes they line up on the deck railing and wait their turn.  (See them lined up to the right.)                 

                        

          When all's clear, they swoop back and feed.                       

In addition a few other birds frequent my feeders.  House Finches, Sparrows, Purple Finches, Grosbeaks, and Nuthatches.                 
                                 

While our stunning though noisy Stellar Jays make an occasional appearance on my deck, they prefer to find their own food, stopping by for a drink now and then.
                                    

And even though I have a hummingbird feeder, wouldn't you know, they prefer the more natural source!  My hibiscus--which did so beautifully on my deck through summer and fall, with blossom after blossom.  I intend to buy several (from Lowes) next year!

Just recently I've been visited by some new guests that, like the Lesser Goldfinches, travel in large groups.  They are called Band-tailed Pigeons, a species once reduced in numbers due to overhunting, but now coming back strong.    They struggle to get the seed from the feeders--so I toss some on the ground for them.  They also take turns at the water bowl.

                                   
                                    
It's late October now, and I can't help but wonder how much longer the birds will stay, and which, if any, will remain through winter.  I can't imagine how any could survive. But I'm ready to watch and learn...and write!

Our Backyard Forest

 It still amazes me that the San Bernardino National Forest is practically our backyard.  There is one street above us and then the forest.  To get to the forest trail, we simply walk along our access road about seven houses down, cut up a little path, and, voila, there is the trail.

                                  

It's a lovely, leisurely stroll that breaks into a fork and curves northwest and northeast toward the 173 in both directions. Mt. Baldy can be seen in the distance and is stunning when snow-peaked.

                                  

                                  

                      

                                    Along this trail we came across a natural chaise lounge.

It is now a destination and popular photo spot!

Judging from the claw marks ? or man-made notches ? on the bottom, it has been visited many times.

 We are still in awe of our surroundings.  Living up here never loses its luster.

                                  
                                  
                                   

But I have to admit, as we ride out the fire season, I hold my breath.

Mom's Trees: Literally Out My Back Door

The summer that my mom died in 2005, my sister and dad and I took a drive to Ouaquaga, New York to see my mom's childhood home.  Across the street from the house on what was their land were two lovely trees in front of a vineyard.  Of the many photos I took that day, this one ended up as the desktop photo on my laptop computer.  Of course each time I turned on my computer, I thought of my mom, and so these trees became for me, "Mom's Trees."                                     

Early this summer--my first summer in our new home here in Lake Arrowhead--I was sitting at my desk in front of my open laptop looking out the window, and this is what I saw in my yard below: Two trees identical to those in the photo on my computer!  The trunks of each tree branch similarly to Mom's trees.  The one on the left has two trunks that each branch in a Y.  The one on the right has a thin trunk and a thicker trunk. 

I hadn't noticed them before because when we moved here, they were leafless, and then in spring, the tree on the left was covered in pink blossoms. Now that the blossoms were gone and both trees had filled out, the similarity was quite amazing.  I sat for a few moments glancing first at the laptop photo and then back out the window until I ran to get my husband and then my camera. (If you click on the pictures to enlarge them you can see what I mean.)             

                     

So now each day, as I sit and write and look out my back door, I see Mom's Trees, and they make me feel, more and more, like I'm home.

Oh Bats!

For the last few weeks, I have been entertained nightly.  The opening act is none other than my ravens who fly from one end of the lake to the other and beyond just before the sun sets.  But they are just the warm-up act, for soon after, as the light begins to fade, out come the bats--and their display is awe-inspiring.  What magnificent maneuverability!  They swoop and swerve and dart and dip, and then, try as I do to keep my eye on them, they disappear.  I gave up trying to follow them with my binoculars, and as for catching a photograph, well the best I could do was this picture I took in a store in Big Bear where they had a number of creatures in glass for sale!

Now up close they may look creepy, but they really are pretty fascinating little mammals. When I first noticed them a couple of weeks ago, I feverishly looked for a book I read about ten years ago called, Owls Aren't Wise and Bats Aren't Blind by Warner Shedd (2000).  As the title suggests, this book corrects a number of myths.  For instance, bats are not blind.  They can see quite well, but when flying in the dark they rely on their "echolocation" ability.  By emitting high-frequency sound pulses, they can identify the size and location of objects around them as these impulses bounce back to their highly sensitive ears.  Shedd states, "So remarkably rapid and precise is this echolocation system that a bat can fly through a maze of wires strung throughout a totally dark room."  Mission Impossible-style!

Now if you think they are heading straight for your hair, don't panic.  They are most probably focused on an insect that is about to take a bite out of you.  It's not your hair...or your neck...that they're after, but the mosquito.  And once they have that mosquito, they will pivot mid-air and be on their way.  They are incredible fliers due to  a unique wing structure that is different from a bird's.  Where a bird has a wing supported by the bones of an arm and a single finger, the bat's wing has the bones of an arm and four elongated fingers and it's attached to the tiny hind legs--giving it that webbed look.  This structure gives it an incredible maneuverability that makes it such a thrill to watch.

As for the rabies myth, Shedd calls this an enormous exaggeration.  And here's why.  Rabid animals transmit the disease in the final stage only, and there are two kinds of behavior associated with this final stage.  The "dumb" phase in which an animal is lethargic and loses control of its movements and the "furious" phase in which an animal attacks anything around it (like dogs foaming at the mouth).  Bats exhibit the dumb stage only and do not exhibit the furious stage, which means that you would have to be acting in a dumb manner by handling a bat in the dumb phase of the disease in order to be bitten!  Bats do not attack and bite humans randomly.  Shedd points out that in Austin, Texas "a million and a half bats have roosted under a bridge in downtown Austin for years, and large numbers of Austin residents and tourist regularly gather to watch their nightly exodus, yet not a single person in the area has contracted rabies."

Now there's one more reason that you should welcome these flying mammals: "One bat can eat several thousand insects in a single night."  Think of all of the mosquitoes...or should I say mosquito-bites.

A few more interesting facts: They generally bear just a single young per year.  They can live up to twenty to thirty years.  They hang upside down so they can see approaching danger and spring into instant flight.  As for flying like a bat out of hell?  I doubt you'll find them there.  They are delightful little critters that are sure to find their way over, around or through those pearly gates.