Vain Vincent

 

As long as we had a huge Aleppo pine on the property, we had a colony of great-tailed grackles living with us. They loved to roost at the top of that tree. I soon learned that they made excellent "guard birds" because they alerted me every time a stranger stepped foot on "their" territory.

The photo above shows Vincent in all his glory. He was a very vain bird who ensured that his feathers were always at their best. And in case you're wondering, I named him after Vincent Price, the star of my favorite scary movie.

Denis and I both miss these former residents.

Keeping Watch on the Human

One of these days, Denis and I might make our way back down to Benson, Arizona on a bright June day to check out the residents of the local Ace Hardware. Now... who or what could be living at the Ace Hardware? Why some barn swallows, of course!

When Denis and I used to spend a couple of weeks each summer in Cochise County, we always made a stop at the store to say hello.

 

 

Adult Barn Swallow

 

This adult stayed perched on that sign and kept a close watch on me for a very good reason...

Baby Barn Swallows

The adult wanted to make sure I kept my distance from the rest of the family! (This is the main reason why I like a good zoom lens on my camera.)

A Feathered Wake-up Call

 

Mexican Jay

When Denis and I used to spend the first part of June in a cottage up in the Mule Mountains outside Bisbee, Arizona, I got used to a very raucous wake-up call. In summer, daylight is early in the Sonoran Desert. By 4:30 AM, the sun is up, and-- depending upon where you are-- it's pleasantly cool. A lovely time of day for those who love to get up early.

I've often said that I love watching the sun come up-- and I do-- but I'm a night owl, so I prefer to watch the sunrise before going to bed. But my normal sleeping habits went out the window when we were down in Bisbee, thanks to a large family group of Mexican Jays that would fly into the scrub oaks surrounding the cottage. Their blaringly loud conversations and disagreements woke me up every morning, and that's all I needed to rise and shine. 

Denis has hearing loss, so the noise wouldn't wake him up. He'd snooze away, and I would tiptoe around, fixing myself a simple breakfast and taking it and my book and camera outside to relax and watch the world wake up. It was the best time to critter watch, and I never tired of it. 

You'd think that those Mexican Jays would make a confirmed night owl growl with all their noise so early in the morning, but they didn't. I always woke up with a smile.

Who Was That Masked Bird?

 

Scott's Oriole

 

This male Scott's Oriole and his missus kept a close eye on me one June when Denis and I were staying in our favorite cottage up in the Mule Mountains outside of Bisbee, Arizona. Cochise County (where Bisbee is located) is a birdlover's paradise.

Isn't he pretty?

Wednesday's Feathered Acrobat

 

A couple of summers ago, this little bird both surprised and entertained me while I was sitting in the pool reading. I don't even know what kind of bird it is, so I'm hoping that someone (Dorothy?) will be able to help me with an identification.

How did it surprise and entertain me?

 

 

It wasn't satisfied with hopping around the waterfall. It darted into the oleanders, and, after a minute or two, it flew right into the pool water where it stayed for a couple of seconds before it flew back into the oleanders. Over the course of three days, it did this several times.

Let me tell you, the first time it did this, I immediately started to move, thinking that I was going to have to rescue it. But no... that's how it preferred to take a bath and get a drink. I have no idea why it turned its beak up at all the birdbaths close by, but I did enjoy the little acrobat!

Wednesday's Bird

 

Western Tanager

 

This pretty little bird is the Western Tanager. I've seen it several times in various parts of Arizona, including on the waterfall of my pool one summer. This photo was taken up in the Mule Mountains outside of Bisbee, Arizona, just a few miles from the Mexican border. Denis and I used to rent a cottage there for a week twice a year. During the week in the summer, I'd sit in the shade on the porch and be visited by all sorts of birds and lizards as well as mule deer. Cochise County, Arizona is a critter lover's paradise!

Striking a Pose

 

Even the lowly house finch can look pretty when it strikes a pose.

If You Fill It, They Will Come

The temperatures are rising here in the Sonoran Desert, and I admire wild creatures for how they can survive when it's 120°F (49°F) and the sun is leeching moisture from me almost faster than I can sweat it out. About ten years ago, we had an influx of non-native Eurasian collared-doves, and during one particularly brutal summer, those aliens didn't fare very well. I lost track of how many of their corpses I found out in the yard. Since then, they've interbred with native white-winged doves, and they've become much more heat-tolerant.

White-winged doves are about the most opportunistic birds I've run across. It doesn't matter if the food you put out is something they're not supposed to like or eat, they will eat it anyway, and like big hogs at the trough, they will shoulder any other birds out of the way. They're greedy and messy and I can't say that I'm very fond of them, but they did supply some amusement for me a few summers ago, and I thought I'd share.

As I sat in the deep end of the swimming pool under the shade of trees and umbrella, there were three things I almost always had at hand: my book, my cold drink, and my camera. If I ever forgot anything, it would be the camera (and usually I wound up kicking myself for the oversight). One June, I began having visitors: a straggly batch of juvenile white-winged doves that I called the Gang of Five because they always traveled together. 

 

Three of the Gang of Five

 

Those young birds would watch me as I sat in the water in the shade, and-- by grannies!-- they wanted to sit in the water, too. They would wait to show up when shade had reached the steps-- the opposite end of the pool from where I sat. They kept trying to use the handrail to soak their tailfeathers, but they kept falling off. One of them even used its beak to shove one of my pool shoes in the water in a show of frustration. (I'll admit right now that I didn't bring my camera out as often as I should because I missed filming that little tantrum.)

I finally took pity on them and bought a blue plastic tub that I filled with water and sat down by the steps into the pool. Sure enough, when the shade moved to those steps, here came the Gang of Five, and they immediately began checking out that tub.

Eurasian collared-doves cooling off.

 

In no time at all, they were in the tub, sitting in the water and cooling off. At one point, all five of them were crammed in there. Naturally, that was the day I'd forgotten my camera again, but as you can see in the photo, the Eurasian collared-dove and collared/white-winged mix took advantage of the "spa", too.

All this just proves that, if you're in the desert and you fill a tub with water, it won't be long before you have something sitting in it to cool off. Just remember to keep your camera close by!

Sky Islands and Whitewater Draw

For several years, Denis and I rented a cottage twice a year in the Mule Mountains outside of Bisbee, Arizona, in Cochise County. There is so much to see and do in that county: you're up to your ears in history and the Wild West, mining, ghost towns, national monuments and wildlife preserves, and the wildlife!

Denis and I spent so many hours in our Jeep high in the sky islands. (I love that phrase!) I remember the smell of wild onions at one mountain's summit, and the endless views for miles down into Mexico from another. Ramsey Canyon is a wildlife lover's heaven, and the shops in downtown Bisbee are so much fun to explore-- almost as much fun as some of the Apache hideouts like Cochise Stronghold and the Chiricahua National Monument. I could wax poetic about Cochise County for pages, but I won't. 

 

I really want to focus on one area in particular, Whitewater Draw in the Sulphur Springs Valley. Here's a page of information from the Southeastern Arizona Bird Observatory (SABO). Each year in January, Denis and I would head to Whitewater Draw twice a day for one reason: thousands upon thousands of wintering sandhill cranes. And if you think I'm exaggerating, there have been over 20,000 sandhill cranes counted at Whitewater Draw each year. The sound of all those birds is-- once heard-- one that you will never ever forget. An added bonus is the fact that the Sulphur Springs Valley is one of the premier birding spots in the world, so you won't be seeing just sandhill cranes. Denis and I have seen mating great-horned owls backlit by a fiery sunset, phoebes and larks on reeds and fence posts, vermilion flycatchers darting into bushes, hawks diving into clouds of cranes, and so very much more. 

Yes, I'm missing Cochise County at this time of year, so I thought I'd share some photos. 

 

 

Sandhill cranes coming in for lunch and a rest.

 

There are so many that they can fill the sky.

On the ground. The sound they make is incredible-- and memorable.

Whitewater Draw with the Mule Mountains in the background. A Cochise County website asked me for permission to use this photo. Was I ever chuffed!

I hope you enjoyed your virtual visit.

Citrus Lovers of the World, Gather Round!

I've mentioned in the past that hanging hummingbird feeders will attract many more birds than just those tiny jeweled miracles. It didn't take me long to learn that making citrus available has an even bigger effect.

I have all sorts of photos taken here at Casa Kittling showing how orioles, tanagers, towhees, doves, woodpeckers, and other species of birds all flock in to devour citrus that's put out for them, but today I'm going to share three photos taken outside a cottage in the Mule Mountains outside of Bisbee, Arizona. Denis and I traveled extensively in the area, but we found it just as easy to sit outside the cottage and let the critters come to us. I even learned that making citrus available did more than just attract birds. You'll see what I mean!

 

 

The shyer birds always started out on the fringes, moving from one scrub oak to another, checking to see if the human sitting there (me) was safe.

 

The shy ones, like this Western Tanager, would see how I behaved with the braver birds before deciding that they'd like to chow down on the oranges, too.

 

Birds aren't the only critters attracted to citrus. So are ants, and ants can make a very tasty snack, which is why this lizard has set up shop beneath the orange. See it? (Many of the ants did not.)

 

Next week, I'm going to share one of our favorite places to do some birding in Cochise County, Arizona. Stay tuned!

Who Are You? Who, Who? Who, Who?

This week, I'm sharing a couple of the best (in my opinion) bird photos I've ever taken, even though I'm not sure just what kind of bird it is.

The only thing I know about this little guy is that it liked to tease me as I sat in the pool with my book by either darting in and out of the oleanders to fly through the spray of the aerator or making dashes over to the waterfall to test just how fast I was with my camera.

Take a look at the handsome little fellow.

I may not have been able to photograph the little bird when it was in the oleanders, but it was a hot day, and it enjoyed the waterfall so much that I did have a bit of success. 

I've only seen this bird in the summer, and it does enjoy being around the water. The closest I have been able to come to an identification is a Nashville warbler, but there's no way I'd bet good money on that. Regardless who he is, I enjoy his company and hope to see him again next summer.

If You Hang It, They Will Come

 

Acorn Woodpecker

 

Decades ago when I first started hanging hummingbird feeders outside my windows, I mistakenly assumed that I would just be attracting hummingbirds. I never dreamed that sugar water attracts the wide variety of birds that it does.

 

This isn't the first photo I've shared of a non-hummingbird hanging out at the hummingbird feeder, and it won't be the last. This one is a bit different because it wasn't taken here at Casa Kittling but at the cabin Denis and I used to stay at in the Mule Mountains outside of Bisbee down in Cochise County Arizona just a few miles north of the Mexican border.

 

The owners of the cabin didn't put out the feeder themselves, but there was one in the pantry for any visitor who wanted to, and Denis and I certainly did. The cabin was shaded by scrub oaks and visited by all sorts of wildlife at all times of the day and night. Staying there was a delight for this critter lover, especially when I could take photos of fellow visitors like the acorn woodpecker above. I guess he needed a break from his acorn diet, eh?

Wilbur the Verdin

For several years after I bought and moved into Casa Kittling, I'd spy this tiny little bird flitting from palo verde to sumac to fairy duster. I could never get a good look at it. Extremely shy, it would usually sit in the depths of a tree or bush and chit away at me like I'd done it some unimaginably horrible slight.

Finally, I learned that these little birds were verdins, one of the most characteristic birds of the desert, and they have one notable distinction: they are not closely related to any other bird in the western hemisphere.

It took me years before I could take an acceptable photograph of one, but I'm not saying that the ones I'm sharing today are all that acceptable, they just show the behavior of one little verdin that I named Wilbur.

Until recently, we used to have an evaporative cooler (commonly referred to as a swamp cooler here) that used open windows and water to keep the house cool. It did a wonderful job until monsoon season, which is when the humidity goes up here in the desert. Once it was monsoon season, it was time to turn on the air conditioning. One of the reasons why I loved having a swamp cooler is because you could have the windows open. I hate being shut up in the house all the time.

Well... one young verdin-- Wilbur-- liked the swamp cooler, too, and he got in the habit of coming to talk to me every day as I sat here in the office at the computer.

Wilbur looking to see if I was sitting at my desk.

You in there, Cathy?

Wilbur would cling to the screen, enjoying the cool breeze and chirping happily away at me. (This photo reminded me to clean the screen!)

Some of the other verdins seemed to think Wilbur was a bit Looney Tunes.

 

Since then, the verdins' shyness around me seemed to evaporate, due largely in part to Wilbur, I would assume. I've witnessed more than one adult taking its children around the back garden to show them how to get nectar out of the hummingbird feeders and where the best places are to get nice, juicy bugs. I sometimes wish we could turn back the clock and use the swamp cooler again. (Neither Denis nor I want him climbing up on the roof to do maintenance!) Something tells me that, if we did, I'd have a tiny little friend coming for a daily chat with me at the window once more.

Nest Building

 

I thought you might like to see a photo of a hummingbird in the process of building her nest. This was in the hummingbird aviary at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum in Tucson, and as you can see, she didn't seem very concerned that I was watching her every move. All the building materials and the spider web she uses to hold everything together fascinate me. The nest is a marvel that expands as the chicks grow.

 

I love hummingbirds. They're feisty little jewels.

Mr. & Mrs. Mallard's Annual Visit

 

In going through some of my photos recently, I came across this one, and it made me smile. 

 

When you have a swimming pool in the desert, all sorts of critters seem to beat a path to your door. Every year in March, Mr. and Mrs. Mallard stop by for a little rest and relaxation on their way to their summer home. (Please don't ask me where that is; they refuse to tell me.) They paddle around for awhile before and after taking naps on the pool deck. Occasionally, they bring along a teenage son who tends to be much jumpier about me going in and out of the laundry room. Mr. and Mrs. Mallard? They don't care a bit because we've become old friends.

 

How many of you noticed the Siamese cat in the upper portion of the photo? This cat was enjoying its first and last taste of freedom, but what was funny was everyone's reaction to a feline presence. The cat was extremely interested in the ducks but didn't know what to do about it. The ducks didn't seem to be worried in the slightest. In fact, Mr. Mallard swam back and forth close to the edge of the pool as if he were taunting the cat. Me? I kept a close eye on the cat but took my cue from the ducks. If they weren't overly concerned, I wasn't going to be either.

 

I still would love to know their destination. Maybe they'll tell me next March.

June at the Benson Ace Hardware

For several years, Denis and I rented a cottage up in the Mule Mountains outside of Bisbee, Arizona in January and June. In January, we would head over to Whitewater Draw to watch thousands of sandhill cranes or bounce our way over dirt tracks to locate old ghost towns. Cochise County-- where the cottage is located-- is one of the premiere birding spots in the world, and there was always something to see, regardless the time of year. 

Our route from Phoenix to Bisbee took us through Benson, a railroad terminus founded in 1880 when the Southern Pacific came through. Although the town (population approximately 5,000) is still a railroad terminus and has some gorgeous murals painted on the outside walls of several buildings, when I think of Benson, I think of the Ace Hardware store. (The second thing I think of is the Singing Wind Bookshop.)

Every June, Denis and I would stop at the Ace Hardware to watch the barn swallows. The architect who built the store provided very nice, sheltered ledges for nesting and raising young, and it was a treat for us to stop by and watch the birds for awhile.

A barn swallow at the Benson Ace Hardware, keeping an eye on me and my camera.

The Benson Ace Hardware barn swallow nursery.

Granted, it did get a bit messy, but no one seemed to attempt to block access to the ledges, so perhaps the manager of the store was a bird lover, too.

The next time Denis and I are in the Benson area in June, you know exactly where we're going to go, don't you?

Last Stop: Casa Kittling

 

Casa Kittling has been a refueling station for many feathered travelers over the years. I think it has a lot to do with all the trees (mostly sumac, palo verde, and pecan) as well as the swimming pool in the back garden. When you're traveling in the desert, you learn to be on the lookout for shade and water!

 

Unfortunately, this lovely great horned owl made our property its last stop. When I went out one morning and saw it on the ground on the other side of the pine tree, I knew something was wrong. For one thing, it was on the ground. For another, I got close to it, and it didn't move. Those great eyes looked at me as if to say, "Leave me alone. I feel terrible."

 

I called a local wildlife rehabilitation center that quickly sent a couple of people to get the owl and take it to their veterinarian. They called me the next day to let me know that the owl had died. It was a sad ending to this particular visitor's story, but not every story is a happily ever after.

Abert's Towhees: Crazy & Nosy & Lovable

I'd never seen an Abert's Towhee until I came to Arizona, and there's a good reason for that. The small total population of these birds (only 100,000) lives almost exclusively in Arizona. They found the territory they like and they stay here. They don't migrate, and they don't fly someplace else to breed. They're homebodies, I suppose you'd say. I was gobsmacked when I learned that birders from around the world come here every year in an attempt to see them. I guess I didn't think people would want to spend money trying to find sparrows.

 

I didn't see these birds until I bought Casa Kittling and moved in, but it wasn't long before these large brown sparrows with the black masks worked their way into my heart. Abert's Towhees mate for life, and they spend most of their time on the ground-- even nesting in low-lying shrubs. That they can do this and still thrive here in a neighborhood of feral cats never ceases to amaze me, but they are amazing birds.

 

Abert's Towhees may look drab, but they've got more personality than many other bird species, and that's why I love them. I've watched them find the wet nozzle of my garden hose and then hop up to the faucet to try to figure out how to turn the water back on. They also tried to figure out how to open the large container of bird seed in the laundry room, and I've seen a pair of them playing with a Nerf ball. (No camera then, drat it!) We have an automatic pool vacuum, and these birds have made me laugh so hard by learning to take their baths perching on the vacuum hose. They always pause while balancing and bathing, looking around them with smug pride, the show-offs! Here's a (rather mediocre) photo--

 

 

How a smart aleck Abert's Towhee drinks and bathes.

 

Our resident towhees are making me laugh today because they aren't pleased by something I went out at midnight to do. I've been trying to encourage JR the raccoon to stay around, but trying to find a way to give him the cat treats he loves has been problematic. How to feed the raccoon and not the feral cats... hmm...

Last night when I saw film clips of JR making a swing through the property, I got the bright idea of leaving the cat treats in their container and setting it in the middle of the birdbath that he always checks out (and even climbs into)-- the same birdbath that the cats leave alone. The verdict is still out, but so far the one cat that could see the container couldn't get into it. What I hadn't thought of in my moment of inspiration was the towhees. That birdbath is their favorite. Sure enough, I just watched a film clip of a very disgruntled Abert's Towhee, stretched up on his toes and giving that container of cat treats in the middle of his birdbath a death glare. Oops.

 

A cowbird in the nest.

 

Some of you probably know about birds like cuckoos that are too lazy to raise their own young, instead choosing to lay their eggs in other birds' nests. Usually the young cuckoos are much bigger and wind up shoving the parents' own babies out of the nest. Well, cowbirds do the same thing, and I was not happy to look up from my seat in the pool one day to see one of our towhees trying to feed an insatiable cowbird chick. (Yes, that laundry room of ours gets a lot of traffic.)

 

Juvenile Abert's Towhee in a kangaroo paw plant.

 

 

My life has been so enriched over the years by my towhee neighbors. I'm happy that they seem to feel completely comfortable around me so they can be their wild and crazy and inquisitive selves.

 

Mi Casa Es Su Casa

I've been culling photographs on and off for a few weeks now, and I thought I'd share a few from time to time. This week, I've chosen a couple of hummingbird photos. 

We are so fortunate here in Phoenix because the hardy little Anna's hummingbird stays here all year round. As a result, we have quite a little colony of them that love to nest in the trees here and frequent the feeders. 

One summer, I left the patio door open as I was bringing in clean clothes from the laundry room. When I walked into the house, I discovered that a hummingbird had flown in to check the place out. He didn't care much for my interior decorating skills and decided to leave, but he became confused.

I stood well away from the patio door, hoping that he would fly out the way he came in, but he kept battering himself against the window that overlooks the pool. I had to find a way to make him fly in the direction that I wanted him to. Since he could see the outdoors through the window, I quietly walked over and closed the curtains. That way, the only "outside" he could see was through the open patio door. 

He was out like a shot.

So... if that ever happens to you, regardless of the bird species, close doors, close curtains, do whatever you have to do to give your visitor only one clear way to get out of the house. (And in case you're wondering, I was once known as the head bat wrangler at work because I used the same principle whenever a bat got in the store.)

Now I'll stop blathering and show you the photos!

Life imitates Art.

I think he's trying to tell me that the dryer stopped. Having an "outside" laundry room means all sorts of critters come to check it out (and consider it their own).

I've had hummingbirds come to drink water from the end of the garden hose as I was watering plants. I've had them perch on the brim of my hat and on the book I was reading. I am absolutely thrilled that they feel so comfortable around me because it means that I've gotten to see some very special behavior.

One of these days, I need to show you the photos I took of Sam, the roughest, toughest Anna's hummingbird I've ever had the pleasure to meet.

A Visitor to Casa Kittling

There have been many visitors to Casa Kittling over the years. I wish I had photographs of the gopher, the pot-bellied pig, and the half-grown ostrich that all came to call, but I don't. However, I did happen to look out of the office window to catch sight of a magnificent visitor that scared all the other feathered residents into absolute silence and the darkest of shadows.

 

 

 

This is an immature Cooper's Hawk, and we had others stop by the following two years. You normally don't think of raptors having anything to do with cities, but they do. In fact, they must be rather common around here since there is a Cooper's Hawk Winery and Restaurant with several locations here in the valley.

I need to keep an eye peeled, don't I? Who knows what critter will show up next!