Carnage – Day 539

Carnage at the beak and talons of an Accipiter – Photo: L. Weikel

Carnage

It happened in the blink of an eye. Carnage at the homestead.

No wonder nobody was coming ‘round the birdfeeders this afternoon. I could hear melodious birdsong emanating from the treetops behind the barn and across the fields. But in the maples and ashes nearest our feeders? Neither a peep nor a trill.

This happens occasionally every year, and it’s never easy. The worst was when it happened right before my eyes. The deed was dispatched so quickly that I would’ve thought I’d imagined it – but for the <<ploof>> of feathers gently drifting to the ground in front of me.

Cooper’s or Sharp Shinned Hawk

We have an extremely handsome accipiter living near us, who uses our yard as a fast-food joint. I’ve tried to locate our feeders in such a way as to make it harder for the hawk to just do drive-by knock offs, but obviously, it cannot be prevented entirely.

The deed is dispatched with sniper-like precision, so I take comfort (small as it is) in the knowledge that the guests for dinner do not know what hits them.

As I’ve mentioned, the evidence is indisputable that an avian snack is had at least a couple of times each year. The pile of feathers with no body and perhaps only a splatter of blood makes it clear that this was no clumsy cat ambush (no disrespect to Cletus intended). But the very few times he’s managed the Houdini act of not only sneaking outside during the day but also stalking and killing a bird, he’s almost always presented it at the doorstep as a proud proof of prowess and worth.

When the hawks nail a bird, the prey is dinner. No two ways about it. And the only leftovers are the feathers that explode from impact. Nothing is wasted.

Mourning Dove

And so it is that a mourning dove is mourned. We’re confident of the identity of the victim due to an analysis not unlike CSI of the crime scene. All DNA points to Cooper’s Hawk or Sharp-shinned. I realize I must pay closer attention to the vocalizations. That may be the most reliable way I will have of identifying which killer is in our midst.

Sassy

There was one bird today that just kept showing up and demanding attention. It cheekily modeled its sleek, monochromatic good looks and asked to be photographed. I complied. I just hope it doesn’t get too cocky. The area where I took its picture is precisely along Accipiter Way, and it’s an area precariously out in the open – making way for occasional carnage to ensue.

Sassy Catbird – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-572)

Why We Can’t Have Nice Things – Day 208

Photo: L. Weikel

Why We Can’t Have Nice Things                         

You’ve heard this before.

When rogue elements anywhere ruin it for everybody, that’s the refrain. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

And that’s precisely how I’m feeling about the wildlife on our property.

Somebody – some “body” – ruined it for everyone.

We recently received a cool new feeder from Karl’s sister, Francine. The way in which it assembles and disassembles allows a solid cylinder of bird food to be mounted on a central post. The seeds are held together with some kind of a sticky substance and it takes the birds a while – usually a good month – to gnaw (or more accurately peck) away at it.

Photo: L. Weikel

Although perhaps ‘gnaw’ is not as inaccurate as I’d like.

And from the looks of things, it appears birds are not the only ones frequenting the feeders – especially the new ones. Not only is the aforementioned cylinder feeder new, so is the accordion-like coil dispenser for peanuts, which the blue jays, woodpeckers, and fish crows have been working on mastering all week.

But now – I don’t know.

See for yourself the appalling manners exercised by some “body.” (And apparently a heavy body, at that, looking at the arc of that wrought iron pole.)

That’s why we can’t have nice things. Somebody has to get greedy and ruin it for everyone.

All things considered? My bets are on Raccoons. (Although I know for sure that deer have been standing around the other feeders – not shown – and literally sucking the seeds out of them as if they’re Pez dispensers.)

Now I just have to decide whether to give them another chance.

Photo: L. Weikel

(T-903)