A Peek into the Life of a Chimney Swift

Mark Armstrong, master bander of both songbirds and hummingbirds, and his wife Janie Kading, have a chimney swift tower that Mark constructed in their back yard   

For several years swifts have nested in the tower.  Small holes are drilled in the bottom of the base so that you can look up and actually see how many nestlings have their heads over the nest edge and how many swifts are roosting on the chimney wall.

This breeding season a pair of chimney swifts raised at least three young in the tower. The nests are shallow and when considering its small size, it is hard to imagine how three nestlings can fit into it.  Both the male and female bring sticks to build the nest, breaking them off with their feet and carrying them to the nest site in their beak.  The twigs are then sealed with sticky saliva from the swift's seasonally enlarged sublingual glands

Even more fascinating is the description found in the account of Birds of North America notating the timing of egg-laying.  "Egg-laying begins when nest half-finished at about 3-6 d, and new twigs and saliva added during incubation...."  The pair stops adding sticks shortly before the eggs hatch.

On July 1st, Mark and Jane set up traps to capture and band hummingbirds in their yard.  In addition, to the hummingbird traps, a mist net was set up to capture hummingbirds and possibly a swift as it left the tower after feeding young.    

Above, you see the band being attached to a swift's leg.  A swift's feet and legs are weak, similar in structure to those of the hummingbird, and are used for gripping and grasping but not for perching.  The chimney swift is airborne most of its life and uses its sharp claws to cling to vertical surfaces while roosting.  Also, notice how long the wings are in relation to the body.

The swift's interesting tail structure also is clearly an additional support while roosting. The feathers end in sharp barbs that help to support the bird while clinging to the roosting surface.  

Below you see two adult swifts resting after feeding young in the nest.  Though the image is not exceptionally clear, you can see that the birds are not just clinging with their feet but are using their tail as support while resting.

After the young fledged, other swifts in the area joined the family in the tower at roosting time and as many as 15 were counted before all the swifts departed on migration.  Presently, swifts are migrating through our area and known communal roosts are being monitored to count the number of swifts as they enter the chimney. The highest count from one chimney that I've seen reported to date was 10,000 in the Nashville area (reported last week).

Links and Resources:

Chimney Swifts coming to roost during migration
Chimney Swifts
Mark Armstrong also banding hummingbirds
Swift Night Out
Chimney Swift Tower
Knoxville Chapter, Tennessee Ornithological Society
Tennessee Ornithological Society

The Excitement of Fall

I love fall. I love the crisp air, the changing leaves, the migrating birds passing through. And I love my patio and my bird bath. The patio with the deck overhead provides a sheltered place for me to relax and take everything in, even when its raining. And I never know what I might see. Sunday, for example, the unexpected.

Already seated, I had looked down at something, then up again to find a male bluebird drinking from the birdbath right in front of me.  I caught my breath, feeling so excited to see a bluebird so close again.  My resident bluebirds hatched their second brood in late summer.  When the juveniles fledged, the parents only brought them back to the feeder area a couple of times, then they were gone.  I mean, completely gone.
Without the need to protect their nesting territory for another nesting attempt, they had no reason to stay once the second brood juveniles fledged. This movement to different hunting grounds is an important survival behavior. The longer the bluebird family stayed in the nesting area, the more likely predators would detect the inexperienced fledglings.    

The male flew up to a low branch and perched for a while, partially concealed by the leaves. I picked up my camera thinking he might return for another drink, but instead, his companion, a female, landed on the birdbath and drank.  What a pleasure.  It may seem like such a simple thing, but there are few things more beautiful or peaceful than sharing an intimate moment with a bird as it goes about its ordinary daily activities, seemingly undisturbed by your presence.  (All the Eastern bluebird images you see here are of the female.)  

And bluebirds are so quiet when they approach.  They land with no fuss, no scolding, utter silence.  And just as quietly, the female departed, joined in flight by the male as they flew in the direction of the front yard.  They did not visit the mealworm feeder even though it had mealworms in it.  I added them earlier when I first heard a bluebird singing near the yard.  Maybe this pair was not familiar with mealworm feeders or maybe food is too plentiful this time of year for the feeder to draw their interest.  But that's okay.  The mealworms are not wasted.  Most of the time, the titmice empty the feeder.  Sunday, Carolina wrens also shared in the feast.  It was while watching the Carolina wren at the feeder, that I spotted the hummingbird that also visited that morning.    

A shy visitor, female or juvenile, she came back to the feeders several times but did not linger very long during any one visit. I was glad I happened to see her since she was the first hummingbird I've seen since Oct 9th. There are fewer and fewer hummers coming through now, generally late juveniles and late nesting females.  It's easy to miss them and mistakenly think all the Ruby-throated hummingbirds have departed.  This sighting on the16th of October is actually the latest date I've recorded a hummingbird in my yard in east TN in the fall.  But even after November 1st, it is a good idea to leave at least one feeder out through the winter months.  Other species of hummers have been documented in the east in the winter, and there are even a few records of Ruby-throats. In all, fourteen species have been documented in the eastern United states: Ruby-throated, Black-chinned, Rufous, Allen's, Broad-tailed, Anna's, Costa's, Calliope, Buff-bellied, White-eared, Green Violet-ear, Magnificent, Broad-billed and Green-breasted Mango.  If you see a hummingbird after November 1st, contact Bob and Martha Sargent at Rubythroat@aol.com or 205-681-2888.

I certainly don't need three feeders out this time of year, but I think of them as welcome flags, along with the flowers that are still blooming, advertising an oasis for thirsty, late travelers.  Below, a female Rose-breasted grosbeak that visited my sunflower feeder a week ago.  She is just passing through, on her way to the West Indies, Mexico or South America to spend her winter. Many migrants are passing through our yards this time of year, both seen and unseen.  

Fall is a beautiful, exciting time of year!

Next post: Fall color and more fun around the bird bath.

Links and Resources:

Blog posts on the bluebird family that nested in my yard during the 2010 breeding season.

Visit these links to see juvenile bluebirds enjoying a bath and my experience with feeding mealworms.

Learn more about how bird banding helps us learn about hummingbirds.  

Visit the Hummingbird Study Group to learn more about hummingbird species.

Contacts for reporting sightings of hummingbirds during winter months in the east: Bob and Martha Sargent, Rubythroat@aol.com or 205-681-2888

Posts about Ruby-throated hummingbirds on this blog.

The First Whooping Crane Arrives

The first migrating whooping crane arrived at Aransas National Wildlife Refuge on October 20th, completing its 2400-mile journey from the Northwest Territory of Canada to wintering grounds on the gulf coast of Texas. Tom Stehn, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Whooping Crane Coordinator, expects the next influx of migrants to arrive with a cold front that is expected today.
Whooping cranes do not migrate in large flocks of family groups as do sandhill cranes, but rather, they travel in single family units, as solitary individuals or in small bachelor groups.
Subadults that have been driven away by their parents to make room for the next generation of offspring join up in small groups of males and females called bachelor groups. Whooping cranes require 4-5 years to reach breeding maturity. These subadult groupings provide companionship, potential mates and more safety as the young cranes gain survival experience.

Click these links for more about whooping cranes, the whooping crane family, whooping crane chick video and whooping crane ultralight migration.

Hummers Still Migrating Through

We have a cool 71 degrees, overcast and alternately drizzly east Tennessee Saturday. Ruby-throated hummers are still visiting my feeder frequently, though I haven’t seen a male since our resident male departed on September 15. Our Atlas of the Breeding Birds of Tennessee, by Charles P. Nicholson, is non-specific about when the last ruby-throated hummers depart TN, saying, “The hummingbird…usually arrives by mid-April and departs by early October.” The former agrees with my observations this spring. And though I didn’t record my last sighting in 2007, my last photograph of a hummer was taken on the 29th of September. I’ll be observing more carefully this year. Some twittering in the branches also caught my attention while outside and though there was no flutey song to confirm his identity, this migrating Swainson's thrush settled quietly in the hemlock that stands outside my window. It is so hushed right now while I am writing this. Even the robins, chickadees and blue jays are silently listening to the drizzle. A very wet and fall-ish feeling day.
This post has been linked to Bird Photography Weekly #4 at the Birdfreak blog. It's a new idea to help promote the beauty of birds. Check it out and post your favorite bird photos there!

Whooping Crane Migration Training at Necedah-II

We now have 69 rare whooping cranes living in the wild and migrating through eastern North America. The sight of these birds never ceases to thrill me. I have had the good fortune of visiting the wild whooping crane population at Aransas National Wildlife Refuge on the gulf coast of Texas and this week, the re-introduced wild population at Necedah National Wildlife Refuge in Wisconsin, and I am grateful every day for the men and women whose dedication and persistence have helped this species recover from the brink of extinction.
A natural survival mechanism combined with man's innovation has made this eastern migratory population possible. Through a natural instinct called imprinting, a newly hatched chick bonds with and follows the first figure that it sees. It is this natural instinct that makes it possible for captive reared hatchlings to accept costumes and ultralights as though they were parents, so that migration training can occur.
I positioned myself at the bottom of the tower the morning of Necedah's Cranefest.It offers a different perspective and some challenges...hungry mosquitos and high foliage.
But both tower level and ground level give you excellent views.
Mature whooping cranes are white with black wing tips, a bare patch of red skin on the top of their head and a black facial mask.
Juvenile whooping cranes still have cinnamon feathers on their head, neck and body and no facial mask.
There will be 15 juvenile whooping cranes and four ultralight parents beginning their migration south on October 17 or as weather permits. This will add another generation of whooping cranes to the world's rarest crane species. You can follow their journey by viewing Operation Migration's field journal. And for kids, check out Journey North's reports on the whooping crane migration.
Click here for more posts on whooping cranes.
Submitted to Bird Photography Weekly #5.

Whooping Crane Migration Training at Necedah-I

Early morning whooping crane migration training at Necedah National Wildlife Refuge in Wisconsin. Part of our whooping crane class of 2008 being led in practice by Operation Migration pilot, Chris Gullikson, on Friday morning. Below a view of the refuge from the observation tower, an area normally covered in water that has been drained temporarily to promote the release and distribution of wetland nutrients.
Blue asters found all around the refuge. The flowers are about the size of a dime and come in delicate shades of blue.

Mornings start early here and end late. Will post more soon!

Ruby-throated Hummingbirds--III

It was a different kind of morning. The air was cooler, breezier, overcast.
I took my cup of coffee and my camera outside, knowing it was the last day I would get to observe hummingbirds before leaving for Wisconsin. I first spotted The King, our resident male ruby-throated hummingbird, high on his perch, fluffed up and pensive. A short time later, after warning off a visitor, he dropped down to the holly as he is prone to do when it’s windy. He sat there quietly plumped up for a long while in the dim morning light.
A Carolina wren, who also likes this perch, displaced him for a short time, but since this busy songster can never be still, he was soon gone and The King returned. When I next observed, an hour or so later, the stillness was palpable. I can’t explain how I knew, but I knew. He was gone. I looked for him at his perches, watched for any movement among the limbs, waited for the faintest sound of chirping from above. Nothing. Then the parade of visitors came, among them the young and inexperienced, the late fledglings.
If I needed any confirmation, I had it. They approached the feeder chirping, awkwardly stabbing for a drink, lingering for many tries, more than I had observed before. No King pounced on them or chased them away.
Were it not for the heartening comedy put on by this new generation, I might have slumped into dispair. They reminded me of an infant first discovering his hands, eager to use them, but not quite skilled enough to know how. Much the same, they approached the feeder from every angle, awkwardly missing, backing up, trying again. Endearing, especially knowing all they must master before they, too, begin their southward journey.
Fall migration. It is that wonderful, stirring time of year. The King has departed. I so wish him a safe and speedy journey. I wish this for them all.

Ruby-throated Hummingbirds--II

The King is camera shy sometimes. I sit in the same place every time I visit and try to move predictably.
Sometimes he could care less about my presence. Other times, he chirps and zips to the other side of the feeder, or even switches to a different feeder out of range. Today I got some lucky shots. Don't you just love those irridescent feathers?And the tuffs of white poking out from beneath his belly?
I set out to observe today and confirm he was still around. I'm curious about when he will begin migration. I'm also enjoying seeing him sleek, preened and fattening up for his journey.

I suspect we may depart near the same time. I will miss him when he's gone.
For all my posts on the "King" click here.

Gourd Art and Whooping Cranes

My kitchen has been transformed into a studio, the table filled with unfinished gourd art and pine needles ready for coiling. Not that the kitchen ever poses as a domestic center, anyway. It more closely resembles a studio much of the time as projects come and go.
Earlier in the week, the same table was scattered with ink illustrations for an exciting children’s book project that I will return to later. But for now, it’s exhibit time, time to finish up and organize the art that will travel with me next week, to the Whooping Crane Wildlife Festival in Necedah, WI.
There I will reunite with whooping crane enthusiasts around the country and with Operation Migration’s crew and staff. If the weather cooperates, we’ll all visit the observation tower to watch this year’s juvenile whooping cranes in flight training over the Necedah NWR wetlands as they follow ultralight aircraft piloted by Operation Migration crew members.The photos above and below were taken at a flight training in September of 2007 as I stood at ground level beside the observation tower. The young trainees were hugging the ground that morning with pilot Brook Pennypacker encouraging them to a higher altitude.
It is a thrill to see these fledged juveniles and to witness an endangered species being aided by these innovative efforts.

Detail of unfinished pine needle coil on a hard shell gourd basket.

Below, woodburned sandhill crane art on small hardshell gourds, ready to be coiled.
Detail of art on the bottom of a piece with date and signature.