New Suburban Dwellers

Owls get the jump on song birds as far as courting, nesting and feeding young are concerned. While most owls are cavity nesters, great horned owls have been photographed in February sitting on their open nests with their heads and backs sprinkled with snow.

Many owls nest as early as January and February. This early nesting is thought to concern food for the nestlings. By nesting early and with an incubation period of around 28 days and a fledgling period of about five weeks, this gives the small birds and animals that nest later just enough time for their young to be out of the nest and den to become food for the young owls.

Some of the delicacies fed to the young owls are mice, rats, frogs, lizards, small snakes, squirrels, young rabbits and small birds.

My favorite is the barred owl. In my early years it was the barn owl because the barn owl and I were friends in my childhood.

It was a windless winter night, soft and lightly scented, when the first piercing call of the barred owl in the predawn darkness snaps us awake. A barred owl and his "to-be" visit our neighborhood in a courting mood, for the air is filled with loud, spine-chilling calls by both sexes. Their voices are different, one being higher pitched than the other. We listen to the weird love calls and spectral outbursts for some 40 minutes.

From the dark shadows of the night they hoot again and again, answering each other with an almost musical rhythm, rock singers of the owl world. Their vocal displays are most awesome and exciting, deafening, booming and boisterous. The alternating hooting of a pair of these owls will keep one awake as long as they remain in the neighborhood.

They quiet down for a moment. Then eerie yells commence . . . loud, wild and uncanny. Then as if in a playful mood, maniacal laughter; interspersed with mere chuckles, softens their harsher calls.

The barred owl is a noisy bird at all seasons except when there are babies in the nest hole . . . then it is more quiet. Young remain in the nest for about four or five weeks. At this age, young are able to come out of the nest and move about among the branches, but are yet unable to fly. They are fed by their parents for several weeks after they are climbing about on branches around the cavity.

Known as a forest-loving bird, living in deep, dark woods, heavily wooded swamps and river banks, or thick growths of tall, dense pines, the barred owl spends most of the day sleeping and resting up for the night's ventures. The big round-headed, gray-brown owl is barred crosswise on the breast and streaked lengthwise on the belly. His large brown eyes are surrounded by big gray disks. His back is spotted with white. The sexes dress alike.

In North Augusta, SC, we know of a barred owl's nest deep in the hollow of a snag where people mill around under the tree all day. Sometimes he will peek out at you with one eye. Less than a century ago the barred owl was known as a bird of the deep solitudes. Along river and lake shores where there was a large, dense growth of trees and thick vines, there you found the barred owl.

The 20th century's population explosion, along with the paving of America's forests, wood lots, river banks and swamps, has brought this big owl into the suburbs where we can enjoy him now.

When Squirrels Go From Cute To Pest

The most often asked question of me today is not "What bird is that?" but "What can I do about squirrels?"

The squirrel, of course, is a rodent, a cousin of rats , mice, moles, muskrats, beavers and all gnawing creatures with sharp chisel-like teeth.

Most bird watchers who keep feeders filled with seed for the birds are exasperated by squirrels. Nuts and acorns, the fruit of forests and woods, have been for eons the basic diet of squirrels. But bird watchers have changed that. Now I think we can safely say it is sunflower seeds, at least for the city-bred furry creatures.

Squirrels will eat buds, fruit, berries, insects and even young birds. They attack the young bird in the head region, cracking open the skull as if it were a nut.

We know of its fondness for buds. Early this spring we transplanted a red maple. As the buds appeared the squirrels ate them, stripping the bark and limbs off a 2-foot section of the trunk. They almost girdled the tree. Of course, with the cambium destroyed, the tree would die.

Being prolific breeders, squirrels observe two breeding seasons, spring and summer. They are active throughout the winter. Squirrels used to rely on stored food to get through the cold months. Today they rely on bird feeders, that is, again, the city fellows do.

But now, how to squelch squirrels? We learned from an Aiken friend of a product called Squirrel Away that is guaranteed to do the job. All you do is mix the product with bird seed and the furry creatures will shake their fuzzy tails at you for ruining their banquet. Squirrels hate the taste. Birds love it. We have used it and it does work. Follow the directions carefully. Here's a link to the company's website: http://www.squirrelaway.com/ .

Nurseries and hardware stores sell other products claimed to be squirrel proof. Nature magazines have many products that are advertised as squirrel proof. Scan the ads in magazines and then go have a look at bird feeders and other products in stores and make your choice. But don't raise your expectations too high . . . I haven't seen a product yet that is 100% squirrel proof.

The following suggestion was gleaned from Birds and Bloom: A creative young fellow drills a small hole in the bottom of plastic soda bottles. He then strings them together on a wire hung between two trees. With six bottles on either side of a feeder hung on the middle of the wire, he says when the squirrels try to walk the wire, the bottles roll and throw them off.

Squirrels . . . are they demons or darlings? When you have only one or two on your lawn they're darlings. When you have a band of five or more eating all your seed, they're . . . well you say it!

Air Mail?

Lively Sprite On The Scene

The air is vibrant with nuptial song. A male orchard oriole is singing from a tall willow. His mate brings pieces of long, green grass and entwines them into the basket nest hanging at the end of a water oak's sweeping branch.

From a nearby cottonwood, a male summer tanager interrupts his song every few seconds to give his harsh distress note, "quick, pick-it-up." (Say it fast and deep to get the tempo of the note.)

From deep within the thorny thicket, a gray catbird is singing his song. A yellow-breasted chat is chuckling from the brier patch. "Witchity, whichity, witchity." A secreted yellow-throat lets us know he is about but he's not showing himself.

Through all this tuning up and singing, I hear a tiny, high pitched note, like the plucking of an elf's guitar. I listen. "Tsing, tsin--g," it calls. Searching through the greening leaves, I see the owner. Agile, petite, gray-blue and white, with flashing long, black, white-edged tail, the blue-gray gnatcatcher is greedily downing its breakfast of insects. Its beady eyes dance from behind a tiny white ring of feathers, accented by its black forehead and black eye-stripe. It wears an immaculate white shirt. Its slender tail is held cocked like that of a wren.

This little sprite is more abundant in the winter here in the Central Savannah River Area when the northern nesters come down to enjoy southern hospitality. Some migrants even hop the Gulf to Guatemala and the Islands for the colder months.

Measuring only four and a half inches from his thin bill to the end of his twitching tail, it breeds over a large part of the United States.

Its nest resembles that of a hummingbird's, though it's some three or four times larger. Four or five tiny bluish-white eggs are laid. They are loosely sprinkled with reddish-brown dots. In the northern part of their range, these petite birds rear but a single brood in a season but in the deep South two broods are normal.

When a novice birdwatcher first sees this small, tail-flicking bird, he will immediately say it looks like a "miniature mockingbird," and he is right. The similarity of the two birds (except for their size) is indeed striking. Both birds have slender bodies, both are gray, though not the same shade, both have long tails, and many of their habits and expressions are alike.

Gnatcatchers are common birds in wooded areas of cities, yet they are not too well known. Perhaps it is because they are "tree birds," small and quick moving. Yet they can be readily distinguished from other small birds . . . chickadees, kinglets and small warblers . . . by the length of their tails.

One of the favorite haunts of these small, pretty and lively birds is residential areas with wooded streets. If you want to know these petite and active birds, grab your binoculars, go outside and search the treetops for them now while they are busy with family duties.

This Bird's A 'Knock-Out'

Birdwise, the talk-of-the-town for the past few weeks has been the rose-breasted grosbeak.

Numerous calls from observers who have seen this spectacular bird at their feeders have come from Evans, Martinez, Augusta, North Augusta, Aiken, Beech Island, Langley and other Central Savannah River Area towns. This bird is a 'knock-out' and when you see him for the first time you are dazzled by his beauty.

On their way to northern nesting grounds in the spring, a scattering of a flock drops down to feed and rest all along the route and only a small number is seen each spring. However, when there are numerous spring storms producing rain, hail and wind, migrating birds will come to rest because they can't battle such forces in flight. This will lead to an unusually large influx of birds.

Finding themselves in a new territory, one in which there is plenty of natural food and gobs of bird feeders, they linger awhile, enjoying the warm weather and other amenities of the deep South. From wintering in Central America, the rose-breasted grosbeak arrives in this region from mid-April through early May in a striking new spring and summer suit. The male is handsomely garbed in black and white with a patch of the loveliest bright re-rose on his snow white breast and the most delicate of pink linings on the underside of his wings. The only fault that can be found in the beauty of this feathered Beau Brummell is his big over-sized nose. It seems to overwhelm his black face.

The dowdy lady grosbeak in her streaked dress of brown and grayish white resembles a puffed-up sparrow. She has not a rose-colored feather on her. White eyebrows are noticeable and her bill is thick and exaggerated like her mate's. Her size (eight inches) and big pale bill distinguish her from the sparrows. She wears the same dress the year 'round. No new styles for her.

Rose-breasted grosbeaks do not nest in our area and they are not common residents until you get "way up north" or, occasionally, in the mountains of Georgia and South Carolina.

His song is not unlike that of the robin and we sometimes mistake it for the scarlet tanager, another migrant. You must go to his breeding grounds to hear him, for seldom does he sing on migration.

In fall migration, when these elegant birds return through the area, usually the male still will be wearing his resplendent black and rose dress. As the year advances and he travels to the tropics, he will change outfits.

Changing his dressy duds to an outfit more like the female's, he keeps a tinge of rose on his breast and black and white on his dowdy wings. These small bright spots will distinguish the two.

If you want to attract these birds this fall and in the spring, keep your tabletop feeders filled with sunflower and safflower seeds. A tired migrating grosbeak will thank you, maybe in song, but always in beauty, for easy access to food.