House Finches: The Hollywood – New York Connection

moldyandy_jmlandin

How could we have resisted spying on our new neighbors? Upon their arrival, they would sing by our windows and occasionally tap on the glass. Soon the couples expanded their families, turning each home into a mosh pit of hungry, but oddly cute, ragamuffins. At some point, we came up with nicknames for them (but more about those later).

Our new neighbors were house finches, and they had built nests inside two awnings. During the past few weeks, we had been checking in on them. Not only did the nests afford us the opportunity to intimately watch these birds give rise to a new generation, but we were able to further ponder how a species native to the western parts of North America, especially Mexico,1 had come to call North Carolina and the rest of the eastern United States home. Common today in all fifty states, this bird has a rather remarkable story.

From Tinseltown to Gotham

When Americans settled westward during the nineteenth century, they took a fancy to house finches. As many people today know, these birds love to build nests along human dwellings, which means that trapping them would have been relatively easy, likely resulting in part to their being sold as caged songbirds. Once captured, the creatures could be transported to other places—and indeed they often were. By the 1880s, American travelers had introduced house finches to the Hawaiian Islands.2, 3

In 1918, the Migratory Bird Treaty Act banned the human trafficking and sale of house finches. However, the practice continued for decades in the United States. The caged birds were even dubbed “Hollywood finches” by illegal bird traders so as to glamorize the species, making it more exotic and attractive to potential buyers. The “Hollywood” part of the name was a promotional gimmick, for the finches are native to the West Coast but also to other western states, not just Tinseltown and surrounding areas of California.4

As late as 1940, “Hollywood finches” were being sold in New York City. Increased enforcement, though, eventually ended the illegal sale of the birds—but with unintended consequences. Fearing visits by authorities, traders and pet shops ended up releasing their caged house finches into the wild. Eyewitness reports of the birds began circulating in New York City but quickly radiated out to neighboring states.5, 6 Today, house finches are found from northern Florida up to southern parts of Canada, but their rapid expansion has come at a cost.

“Moldies” and “Andies”

Our recent neighbors are likely descendants of those birds released in New York City over seventy-five years ago. In most cases, each clutch gave rise to four youngsters. Covered partially in spots of down, the new hatchlings were not much to look at. My wife jokingly likened their appearance to moldy strawberries. But these hungry creatures quickly grew, sprouting other feathers. By the time the fledglings left their nest, the only visible sign of their down was several unruly sprigs above their eyes, a characteristic reminiscent of the brow hair sported by the late 60 Minutes commentator Andy Rooney.

To differentiate the birds’ stages, my wife and I often made tongue-and-cheek references to them as “Moldies” and “Andies.” They grew up fast! In a matter of days, the Moldies became Andies. And, boy, did those ravenous bushy-eyed juveniles keep their parents busy. The last of them, though, took wing a couple days ago. For now, our spying eyes have returned to the bird feeders.

Sources:                                                                                                                                                  

  1. Mexico’s connection to the bird is reflected in the species’ scientific name, Haemorhous mexicanus.
  2. Hill, GE. A Red Bird in a Brown Bag: The Function and Evolution of Colorful Plumage in the House Finch. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. pp. 21, 224.
  3. Grinnel, J. “The Linnet of the Hawaiian Islands: A Problem in Speciation.” University of California publications in zoology. The University Press. Vol. 7, No. 4 (1911), pp. 179–195.
  4. Hill, GE. pp. 21, 221–222.
  5. Elliott, JJ, Arbib, RS. “Origin and Status of the House Finch in the Eastern United States,” The Auk. Vol. 70, No. 1 (Jan., 1953), pp. 31–37.
  6. Hill, GE. pp. 222–223.
Advertisements

Staying Warm!

snowygoose

A winter storm struck our area recently, bringing a bit of snow and ice but not nearly as much as expected. The worst part was that for several days temperatures stayed below freezing. What fell stuck around, keeping most people inside. Yet the neighborhood squirrels and birds were undeterred from going about their usual business.

Carolina wrens, Carolina chickadees, northern cardinals, blue jays, and several species of sparrows were frequent guests at our backyard feeders. There were a few dark-eyed juncos, brown-headed nuthatches, and brown thrashers, too. During an outing, my wife spotted the usual Canada geese at a nearby pond. They all managed just fine, thanks in part to their feathers.

Cuddy’s Duck

Feathers serve many functions, one of the most important in cold environments is helping keep birds warm. And of the types of feathers on birds, the innermost layer (down) is critical for insulation. Much shorter than contour and flight feathers, down has flexibly stubby structures that stick together to trap air and shut in body heat.1, 2 People ages ago, in their struggles to adapt to extreme cold, figured out waterfowl are equipped with down that’s well suited for human use. Today, manufacturers of winter jackets and bedding products rely on down feathers primarily from ducks and geese.

Of all avifauna cherished for their down, the common eider duck remains the gold standard.3 In the United Kingdom, the species is sometimes referred to as “Cuddy’s duck,” in reference to St. Cuthbert, perhaps the first person to decree protections for birds.4 Legend holds that the seventh-century cleric of Great Britain’s Inner Farne Island developed a special bond with the eiders, forbidding the other monks to harm the nesting birds. While killing or eating Cuddy’s ducks would have been off limits, eiderdown “harvesting” could have been acceptable.5 Harvesting often involves collecting feathers from the nests while the birds are there, but the intent is to disturb the ducks as little as possible. In Scandinavian island communities, such practices had been going on for centuries prior to Cuthbert.6 They still continue today, with Iceland being the largest producer.7, 8

The Downside

Unlike harvesting, other methods are far from innocuous. China is the world’s largest provider of down, mostly from ducks and geese, which are raised then slaughtered for food.9 Though feathers are considered a by-product of poultry production, disturbing accounts of live-plucking have been reported.10 The negative publicity has forced the fashion industry to reevaluate its suppliers and offer synthetic options.11, 12

So what can we do to help out? Before purchasing a down jacket or bedding, investigate the manufacturers. As part of your Internet search, check whether they comply with the voluntary Responsible Down Standard (RDS). Note that the nonprofit Textile Exchange offers an online list of certified compliers and extensive information about the down industry.

The other choice, of course, is to just look for down alternatives.

Sources:

  1. Thompson, M. “Everything You Need to Know About Feathers – Feather Anatomy: How Do Feathers Work?” Bird Academy, Cornell Lab of Ornithology: https://academy.allaboutbirds.org/feathers-article/2/.
  2. Brakhage, D, St. James, E. “Waterfowl Feathers.” Ducks Unlimited: http://www.ducks.org/conservation/waterfowl-research-science/understanding-waterfowl-waterfowl-feathers.
  3. “Down and Feather Quality.” Downmark, Canada: http://downmark.com/consumer_information/down_feather_quality.htm.
  4. “St Cuthbert Provided Blueprint for Nature Conservation,” 6/30/2012. BBC: http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-23048394.
  5. Jenkins, J. “St. Cuthbert’s Ducks,” 10/29/2015. Pilgrimage & England’s Cathedrals project: http://www.pilgrimageandcathedrals.ac.uk/blog/st-cuthbert%E2%80%99s-ducks-1446120484.
  6. “World Heritage and the Arctic,” United Nations Organization for Education, Science and Culture (UNESCO): http://whc.unesco.org/archive/websites/arctic2008/annex.html.
  7. Morris, J. “Iceland: Grail Trail,” 4/20/2002. The Telegraph: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/europe/iceland/724009/Iceland-Grail-trail.html.
  8. “Ask IR,” 1/30/2014. Iceland Review On Line: http://icelandreview.com/stuff/ask-ir/2011/11/10/can-you-tell-me-about-eiderdown-production-iceland?language=en.
  9. Schmitz, H. The Sustainable and Humane Practices of the Down and Feather Industry. International Down and Feather Bureau: http://www.idfb.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/IDFB_White_Paper_6.07.16.pdf.
  10. Gibson, K. “A Foul Truth behind the Down in Pillows and Comforters,” 5/26/2016. MoneyWatch, CBS: http://www.cbsnews.com/news/a-foul-truth-behind-the-down-in-pillows-and-comforters/.
  11. Milman, O. “‘Ethical down’: Is the Lining of Your Winter Coat Nothing but Fluff?” 1/14/2016. The Guardian: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/jan/14/winter-coat-ethically-produced-down-goose-feathers.
  12. Dobson, J. “The Growing Fashion Trend for Winter Travelers, Cruelty-Free, Vegan and Sustainable,” 12/19/2016. Forbes: http://www.forbes.com/sites/jimdobson/2016/12/19/the-growing-fashion-trend-for-winter-travelers-cruelty-free-vegan-and-fabulous/#6e9420a467cb.

 

Owl Cafés

owlcafe

Looking for a date? A close and personal opportunity to gaze into the big eyes of some cutie?

Don’t expect much of a conversationalist. However, he or she may be willing to clasp your wrist. The possibility of posing for a picture or two is not out of the question either (but sorry, no flash photography). Did I mention that this acquaintance can be flighty?

Oh, and one more thing. Visits can get a little messy. More on that later. Apparently, lots of strings are attached—literally—in the owl cafés of Japan.

Who-hooo Gives a Hoot?

In the past few years Japan has spawned many animal-themed cafés, including those dedicated to goats (1), rabbits, goats, cats, and lizards (2). As for birds, parrots (3), falcons (4), and penguins (5) have become part of the scene. Yet none compare to owls, a sensation all their own. That trend has garnered attention from major news organizations, inspired visits from bloggers, and triggered criticism from wildlife conservation groups.

The fascination that residents of cities like Tokyo have toward owls, of course, is understandable. (London, UK, had its own controversial stint last year.)  In most cases, urbanization and technology have widened the rift between people and nature. Yet the human urge to reconnect persists. Owls are appealing because they paradoxically embody aspects that are both accessible and remote.

In fact, few animals seem as simultaneously familiar and strange as these avian creatures. On the one hand, owls are recognizable to just about anybody, even folks with only a cursory knowledge of birds. The frontal setting of the eyes and surrounding facial disks give the creatures’ heads a slight human appearance. Nevertheless, owls also seem exotic and mysterious. That most species are nocturnal and hence hidden from view must largely account for this. Their amazing head-turning abilities—a range of 270 degrees or three-quarters of a circle—and strange assortment of cries have to be factors as well. Add, too, the representations of owls throughout popular culture, most notably Harry Potter, and in mythology, including that of Japan’s own Ainu people (6).

Too Close for Comfort

At the owl cafés, the birds are tethered in dimly lit establishments that serve beverages. Visits last around an hour, with the opportunity to usually get close to a more than one fukurō (the Japanese word for “owl”). Supervision is customary. After all, unlike many birds including other raptors, owls do not have an extensive history of domestication.

Situations can get messy, so visitors have to be mindful of more than just the creatures’ sharp beaks and talons. Owls poop whenever the mood strikes. This means that coffee stains are the least of one’s worries. Some visitors seem to take the splatterings in stride, reporting that getting dinged by droppings is considered good luck (7). Wow, talk about marketing!

Of course, that people in metropolitan areas are excited about wildlife is great. However, there are much better alternatives than these cafés. In the United States, where for legal reasons owl cafés do not exist, raptor centers are a good option. Another possibility is going on a nature hike at dusk with friends or while camping. Why not see these amazing creatures without any artificial barriers at all? Make a “date” to hear and glimpse an owl in its own habitat.

Sources:

  1. Opar, A. “Japanese Cafés Use Live Owls to Attract Customers”, 11/11/2013. Audubon magazine: audubon.org/news/japanese-cafes-use-live-owls-attract-customers
  2. McKirdy, E. “Night Life: Owl Cafés are Tokyo’s Latest Animal Café Craze”, 12/10/2015. CNN: cnn.com/2015/12/09/travel/tokyo-akiba-fukuro-owl-cafe/.
  3. Kugan, J. “Owl Cafés in Japan are the Latest Hoot!”, 8/7/2014. The Star Online: http://www.thestar.com.my/lifestyle/features/2014/08/07/owl-cafes-in-japan-are-the-latest-hoot/.
  4. Lombardi, L., Associated Press. “Owl Café a Hoot in Tokyo”, 2/1/2015. The Columbus Dispatch: dispatch.com/content/stories/travel/2015/02/01/1-hoo-knew-that-interacting-with-owls-would-be-a-hoot.html.
  5. Opar, A.
  6. Morris, D. Owl. London: Reaktion Books, 2009. pp. 57–58.
  7. Siese, A. “I Went to a Japanese Owl Café and Felt my Soul Take Wing”, 1/31/2016. The Daily Dot. http://www.dailydot.com/lol/japan-owl-cafe/.

Winter Interlude

goose_footprints

Along the icy street, a procession of geese
amble with ease through the snow, oblivious
to the weekday morning’s comings and goings,
not affording even an occasional glance
at the cars cautiously
skirting by.

To a roadside pond intently they head,
like feathered emperors of the elements,
nomadic masters of land, lake, and sky,
undeterred by the harsh, frigid breeze
or the water’s frozen surface
before them.

Another rest stop to a lengthy flight?
Perhaps a homecoming? Then no sooner
these thoughts do they vanish beyond
my rearview mirror, into memory…
only web-footed tracks adrift
in wintry white.

 

This is a poem that I wrote several years ago. A gaggle of Canada geese used to hang out by a pond near where I worked. But then they disappeared. For several months there were no geese. I figured that I would not see any there again till the next spring or summer. Fortunately, I was wrong. The sight of these birds, especially right after a snowstorm, was a welcome surprise.

Happy New Year to everyone!

Oh, the Wonder—and Ugh, the Disgust!

starling_JML

People seem to either really like or loathe starlings. Videos of these creatures’ aerial maneuvers have become Internet sensations. On the other hand, agriculture officials frequently regard the birds as avis non grata, going so far as to employ mass extermination measures in the United States. What’s with both all the love and so much hate?

Those Amazing Murmurations

A murmuration, the name for a group of starlings, is an amazing sight, something my wife likens to a moving sculpture in the sky. “Murmuration” is also the title of a short online viral video posted a few years ago by Sophie Windsor Clive and Liberty Smith. In their footage, the young women are paddling in a canoe before coming across a sudden swarm of starlings. Their recorded close encounter immerses viewers in nature’s serendipitous beauty, each sweeping movement a spectacle of wonder. Watching the feathered formations bound in flight over Ireland’s River Shannon must have been something special. Fortunately, thanks to the Internet, we can partake in their experience vicariously.

“A Bird Ballet”, Neels Castillon’s short film from Marseille, France, evokes similar feelings of amazement. Both his and the “Murmuration” videos are professionally edited and include music. Occasionally, one hears the wowed responses of those shooting the footage. However, the rhythmic sky dance of starlings is so mesmerizing that I prefer watching with the sound muted. No enhancements necessary!

There’s nothing like seeing starlings fly en masse. In the poem “Starlings in Winter”, Mary Oliver refers to the birds as “acrobats”. She marvels at how “they float like one stippled star that opens, becomes for a moment fragmented, then closes again …” (1). Of course, she’s just one of many poets that these birds have fascinated. Once while watching a murmuration during a coach ride, Samuel Taylor Coleridge compared the shapeshifting formations to “smoke” and “mist”, always in flux, “… expanding or contracting, thinning or condensing … thickening, deepening, blackening!” (2).

Thousands of these creatures engage in ever-changing flight maneuvers somehow without getting tangled and crashing—that’s the spectacular thing about murmurations! How do these birds do this? In the 2014 book The Thing with Feathers, ornithologist Noah Strycker devotes an entire chapter to starling flocks. There he discusses how a collection of the birds form a magnetic system while in flight, and why the number seven is significant in this process. Due to these discoveries, researchers can now generate models that successfully predict the aerial patterns of a murmuration based on its size (3).

For Many, Still Avis Non Grata                                         

Strycker touches as well on humans’ love-hate relationship with starlings. He writes about the “Murmuration” video that garnered millions of views in just a matter of days, and also of Google search results easily confirming starlings as “America’s most hated bird” (4). Only introduced to North America in 1890, the European starling ranks today among the ten most populous avian species on the continent. With millions migrating across the country, starlings are generally regarded as an invasive pest. Strycker questions whether the birds deserve their negative reputation (5). Nevertheless, for nearly 50 years, a pesticide has been employed to poison these birds. It’s a practice that continues to this day.

A few weeks ago, the Associated Press reported that multitudes of dead starlings had been discovered in the northern parts of Nevada. At first, many residents were uncertain as to what had happened to the birds. People learned later, though, that the United States Department of Agriculture had used DRC-1339, a chemical sometimes referred to as Starlicide, to kill them. In that article, an official provides the rationale for the baiting and extermination of the starlings: “Bird feces can contaminate food and water sources, putting cattle at risk for salmonella and E. coli infections if ingested” (6). In short, the measure was performed for the sake of public safety.

The U.S. has used this chemical since 1967 to kill starlings. Once ingested, the agent quickly damages a bird’s heart and kidneys, often resulting in death within one to three days. Officials have also employed DRC-1339 to control populations of pigeons, mynas, gulls, blackbirds, ravens, crows, and other birds (7, 8, 9). Proponents of the compound tout that its toxicity is quickly degraded by exposure to sunlight and moisture. Also, most raptors, with the exception of owls, are not sensitive to the chemical. So birds of prey, as well as many mammals, that may consume the dead starlings are deemed safe. Cats, however, are at risk, and research indicates that the chemical can be “moderately toxic to fish” (10).

A Balancing Act

Several animal organizations continue to frown upon employing DRC-1339 baits. Both the National Audubon Society (11, 12) and the Humane Society of the United States (13, 14) have been critical of its use. Despite claims that DRC-1339 is relatively safe, questions remain, especially regarding whether such mass-killing measures are warranted. And the debate looks to continue, especially with the recent bad publicity in Nevada. In the balance hangs the considerate treatment of wildlife on one hand and the wellbeing of cattle and crops on the other.

Starlings are marvelous beings, easily adapting to and flourishing in new environments. While their feathered formations awe many folks, the birds still provoke fear and revulsion in others. The dynamics of how humanity perceives these creatures persist in closely bound, twisting motions just like their flight patterns. Acrobats indeed.

Sources:

  1. Oliver, M. “Starlings in Winter”. Best Poems Encyclopedia: http://www.best-poems.net/mary_oliver/poem-13085.html.
  2. Dee, T. Year on the Wing: Four Seasons in a Life with Birds. New York: Free Press, Simon & Schuster, Inc., 2009. p. 113.
  3. Strycker, N. The Thing with Feathers: The Surprising Lives of Birds and What They Reveal About Being Human. New York: Riverhead Books, 2014. pp. 43-48.
  4. Strycker, N. pp. 29-30, 39-40.
  5. Strycker, N. pp. 40-43.
  6. Griffith, M. “Feds Under Fire for Mass Killings of Starlings in Nevada”, 3/24/2015. Associated Press. MSN.com: http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/feds-under-fire-for-mass-killings-of-starlings-in-nevada/ar-AA9WqTh?ocid=AARDHP.
  7. Feare, C.J. “The use of Starlicide® in preliminary trials to control invasive common myna Acridotheres tristis populations on St. Helena and Ascension islands, Atlantic Ocean”. Conservation Evidence (online journal), Vol. 7, 2010. pp. 52-61: http://www.conservationevidence.com/collection/7.
  8. “Compound DRC-1339 Concentrate—Staging Areas”. Tech Note: Wildlife Services, 4/1/2001. United States Department of Agriculture, Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service: http://www.aphis.usda.gov/wildlife_damage/nwrc/publications/Tech_Notes/TN_DRC1339StagingAreas.pdf.
  9. “DRC-1339 (Starlicide)”. Tech Note: Wildlife Services, 4/1/2001. United States Department of Agriculture, Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service: http://www.aphis.usda.gov/wildlife_damage/nwrc/publications/Tech_Notes/TN_DRC1339Starlicide.pdf.
  10. “DRC-1339 (Starlicide)”. Tech Note: Wildlife Services, 4/1/2001.
  11. Jonsson, P. “Bye Bye Blackbird: USDA acknowledges a hand in one mass bird death”, 1/20/2010. The Christian Science Monitor: http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Society/2011/0120/Bye-Bye-Blackbird-USDA-acknowledges-a-hand-in-one-mass-bird-death.
  12. Williams, T. “Red Baiting”, 11/2001. Audubon Magazine (online archive): http://archive.audubonmagazine.org/incite/incite0111.html.
  13. “What to Do About Crows”, 10/3/2009. The Humane Society of the United States: http://www.humanesociety.org/animals/crows/tips/solving_problems_crows.html.
  14. Griffith, M.

Fowled Up: Funny and Offbeat Names for Birds

catbird

Many of our chosen monikers for birds are nothing short of odd. At times, they’re outright humorous. Even several scientific terms are not immune to chuckles, especially for folks with a limited acquaintance of Latin. Then there are those familiar bird nicknames that have evolved into coarse slang. Indeed, at times our winged neighbors and human language have tangoed to form quite an intriguing pair.

Rolling off the Tongue

Although many of the names we have for birds make sense, the words themselves often seem strange at first to the ear, names such as bobwhites, chickadees, killdeers, kittawakes, rufous-sided towhees, whippoorwills, and willets, among a plethora of others. However, the source for these monikers could not be any more natural. All of these birds are identified by the calls that they produce, as if they were simply introducing themselves by saying, “My name is…so-and-so”.

This my-name-is-approach holds true as well for the coot and cuckoo. Both of these birds are dubbed for their peculiar cries. However, in their cases, their distinctive call-based names interestingly hold other connotations. Due to the offbeat sounds they generate, these birds have been associated respectively with idiocy and madness (1, 2). A “mad old coot” remains a common pejorative for describing a silly or stupid elderly man (3). And advertising, of course, has taken up the crazy cuckoo idea. Sonny the Cuckoo Bird, the cartoon personality on the Cocoa Puffs cereal box, famously goes loco in commercials, dramatically giving in at last to his wild cravings for the cereal. Oh, Sonny!

More Etymological Oddities

As discussed in last week’s post, several birds were named for the way they look rather than how they sound. Relying on this strategy, European explorers and naturalists often adopted Old World bird names for those they encountered in the Americas. A few birds, though, were named for affinities they share with other things. For instance, the high-ranking officials of the Catholic Church provided inspiration for the northern cardinal’s moniker, as the bird’s color and crest were evocative of the cloaks and galeri already worn by those clerics (4, 5).

In several circumstances, other animals played roles in the labels bestowed upon our feathered friends. The catbird, for example, is named for the manner in which its call is thought to resemble that of a small, young feline (6, 7); the cowbird for frequently feeding off the insects near grazing cattle (8); and the anhinga or “snakebird” for the way its long S-like neck, when swimming for food, extends out of a lake or marsh, bobbing forward (9).

Mousebirds also exist, but strangely enough they are not named after the rodent—nor are they pursued as prey by catbirds! Diana Wells, the author of 100 Birds and How They Got Their Names, explains that “mouse” in this case comes from mase, the old Germanic, Anglo-Saxon word for “small bird” (10, 11). As for dogbirds or “dirds”, they only exist online such as on websites like sadanduseless.com!

Bird Names Gone Wild

Not only are some common names unusual, quite a few of the scientific ones are seemingly peculiar as well, at least initially to someone like myself who doesn’t know Latin well. For example, Circus cyaneus is not related at all to traveling, big-top, blue-tent amusement; this is the name for the marsh hawk. Sturnus vulgaris has nothing to do with stern warnings about crude, profane language; it’s the formal term for a starling. And while Turdus maximus sounds bad, like some archaic form of schoolboy bathroom humor, that term, too, is rather innocent—just the scientific name for the Tibetan blackbird.

But now that we’re on the subject of monikers-that-appear-to-be-offensive-but-aren’t, let’s not overlook several bird names that lend themselves erroneously to sexual innuendo. A couple obvious ones are well-known for their share of adolescent chortles: tits and boobies. As William Young notes in his The Fascination of Birds: From the Albatross to the Yellowthroat, neither of these terms has anything whatsoever to do with the female human anatomy. Titr, from which the former bird’s name derives, is simply Icelandic for “small” (12). Meanwhile, the other birds are known as “boobies” due to how explorers deemed the creatures’ appearance and behavior as comical (13). Incidentally, the celebrated ornithologist and artist John James Audubon thought the name more fitting for folks who belittled these or any other birds as stupid (14).

Nowhere to Go but up?               

Before ending this post, I’d be remiss to at least not touch upon a couple bird nicknames that actually have evolved (or perhaps, more aptly, digressed) into sexualized expressions. For example, here in the U.S., the nickname for owls has become slang for the female breasts. This appropriation is probably due to the prominence of the creatures’ eyes; however, the age-old connection between these birds and witchcraft, as a mysterious feminine power, may play an important secondary role.

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the owl euphemism is relatively recent—late 20th century—as opposed to another common one, the name for a rooster that’s synonymous with a part of the male human reproductive system. The website notes the latter word’s contextualized usage as far back as the early 17th century (15), as does another source, tracing it to a pun used in Shakespeare’s play The Life of King Henry the Fifth (2.1.53) (16).

The strange ways in which we identify with birds, right? At this point, what more’s to be said? With these last few looks into the offbeat connections between linguistics and our winged neighbors, this post may have delved as low as decency permits. Next week, let’s take flight from the gutter!

Sources:

  1. Wells, D. 100 Birds and How They Got Their Names. Chapel Hill, NC: Algonquin Books, 2001. pp. 33, 48.
  2. Young, W. The Fascination of Birds: From the Albatross to the Yellowthroat. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 2014. pp. 54, 68-71.
  3. Farmer, J.S. Slang and Its Analogues Past and Present: C to Fizzle. Volume 2. London: Harrison and Sons, 1891. p. 178.
  4. Wells, D. pp. 25-26.
  5. Young, W. p. 34.
  6. Wells, D. p. 148.
  7. Young, W. pp. 39-40.
  8. Wells, D. pp. 37-38.
  9. Wells, D. pp. 229-230.
  10. Wells, D. p. 253.
  11. Young, W. p. 44.
  12. Young, W. p. 42.
  13. Young, W. p. 42.
  14. Rhodes, R. John James Audubon: The Making of an American. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2004. pp. 367-368.
  15. Harper, D. Online Etymology Dictionary: http://www.etymonline.com.
  16. Farmer, J.S. p. 135.

Look but Don’t Touch: Watching out for Nesting Birds

nest_JMLandin

Look but don’t touch. This was a lesson I learned early on as a young boy, staring intently along with my grandmother at a bird nest. Inside a shrub-like tree, a bowl of straw lay almost hidden. Within it, several nestlings, their mouths wide open, were awaiting their next meal.

After a quick look, we hurried away, soon noticing that the mother robin returned with sustenance for her young. Folklore, of course, advises people to not harm bird nests, for doing so was commonly thought to bring bad luck (1). However, for many children, superstitious appeals are not necessary, as a simple reverence for nature may be more persuasive. Why disturb a nest? Instead, by just watching, all people, no matter their age or occupation, can spend days learning about the behavior of our winged neighbors.

A Few Famous Nest Watchers

Such appreciation is expressed eloquently in the beginning of Walt Whitman’s poem “Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking”, which notes his frequent engagement afar with a pair of nesting mockingbirds: “… every day I, a curious boy, never too close, never disturbing them, / Cautiously peering, absorbing, translating.” (2)  The perils of nature may have eventually laid claim to one of the birds, but the poet’s powerful connection to them, especially the surviving bird, is undeniable.

As a few literary examples demonstrate, birds do sometimes choose risky locations for their nesting spots. Robert Frost’s poem “The Exposed Nest” relates an amazing find within a freshly cut hayfield—a nest of young birds somehow surviving untouched by a passing blade (3). In John Clare’s “The Pettichap’s Nest”, a narrator marvels at a warbler’s eggs precariously placed by a well-traveled horse-and-wagon road. “Yet,” he remarks in the poem, “like a miracle, in Safety’s lap / They still abide unhurt, and out of sight,” housed in a nest “Built like an oven.” (4)

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “The Emperor’s Bird’s-Nest” presents perhaps what may be the worst place imaginable for most birds—the outskirts of a battlefield. However, in this poem, the 16th-century Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, while planning a military campaign, decides to protect a swallow nesting on the ruler’s makeshift dwelling. Even when his army finally packs up its belongings, the tent is ordered to remain, “Loosely flapping, torn and tattered, / Till the brood was fledged and flown.” (5)

Birdhouses and Backyard Birding

People, having an affinity towards nesting birds, usually desire to offer some form of protection to the winged caregivers and their offspring. This is a big reason for the introduction and success of birdhouses. We enjoy watching and hearing bluebirds, cardinals, chickadees, finches, wrens, and many other of our feathered friends. In fact, it’s not uncommon for folks to have several nest boxes set up near their home, a practice commonly referred to today as “backyard birding.”

The use of human-made birdhouses actually goes back at least five centuries to parts of Europe, Asia, and North America. These structures were often, and still are, freestanding entities placed near human residences. They’re typically constructed out of wood, but materials over time have varied, including clay, gourds, and, most recently, concrete (6). Designs tend to be simple and box-like for housing one bird nest. Ornate assortments also exist, consisting of decorative models with multiple nesting compartments made to resemble castles, palaces, ships, and other elaborate abodes.

Not all birdhouses are built as isolated units. Enclosures for nesting birds are sometimes constructed as part of a building’s façade. The country of Turkey, especially the city of Istanbul, is renowned for such architectural structures (7). Of course, several kinds of common birds are notorious throughout the world for nesting in parts of human dwellings not intended as “birdhouses.” Pigeons display a fondness for ledges, for instance, while certain swifts like to use chimneys.

Some Quick Guides for Getting Started

Birds generally don’t require fancy amenities, but they do need a dry, well-ventilated space that’s just the right size for a particular species’ entry and residence. Using the interactive tools on the Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s NestWatch’s site, you can quickly determine which types of birds, based on region and habitat, are found in your area. Out of those, think about which ones you’d like to attract.

Also, to help you offer a safe, sturdy, and accommodating home for your avian guests, an illustrated guide with tips and information on birdhouses is available, as are step-by-step instructions on the proper way to install a camera within a nest box and monitor nesting activity.

Teachers can even download a NestWatch lesson plan packet for their students. Course information includes how to identify local birds by their song and type of nest, guidelines and legal requirements for observing nests, and methods for collecting and reporting data.

With the lesson plan packets and latest technology, you can look all you want. But still, no touching.

Happy watching!

Note: This post first appeared a few weeks ago on the Your Wild Life science website.

Sources:

  1. Ingersoll, E. Birds in Legend, Fable, and Folklore. New York: Longman, Green and Co., 1923. 8, 114, 115.
  2. Whitman, W. “Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking”, Poetry Foundation: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/178710.
  3. Frost, R. “The Exposed Nest”, Mountain Interval. New York: Henry Holt, 1920. New York: Bartleby.com, 1999: http://www.bartleby.com/119/21.html.
  4. Clare, J. “The Pettichap’s Nest”, John Clare Info pages: http://www.johnclare.info/sanada/4Rm2.htm#PETTICHAPS.
  5. Longfellow, H. W. “The Emperor’s Bird’s-Nest”. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, A Maine Historical Society Web Site: http://www.hwlongfellow.org/poems_poem.php?pid=134.
  6. Cranmer, T. “Nesting Cavities and the History of the Birdhouse”, Cranmer Earth Design: http://www.earthdesign.ca/bihi.html.
  7. “Bird Houses in Turkey”, Turkish Cultural Foundation: http://www.turkishculture.org/architecture/bird-houses-104.htm.