Young birds are beginning to fledge around the farm. One rainy evening, some of the young bluebirds were fluttering around the sunflower-seed feeder trying to grab seeds. I would guess that, after several days of rain, the insects they prefer are not as abundant. I usually feed the bluebirds a suet mix, which they relish first thing in the morning. This evening, feeling sorry for them, I took out some mix and called them in with my usual whistle, which alerts them to feeding time. As soon as I stepped back from the feeder they scooted right in and started grabbing chunks of the mix.
There are at least six barn swallow nests in the barn now. The adult swallows continually feed their young, foraging from morning until night and only stopping when it gets dark. The swallows are better than any mosquito magnet for keeping our yard relatively free of mosquitoes, even though we have a pond and wetlands.
Several people have told me they have seen a great egret on Golden’s Pond. I dropped by a couple of times to see if I could spot it, with no success. On one visit I saw a female hooded merganser and 11 fluffy chicks that were just a few days old. A great egret is unusual around Harvard. It may have been a white morph of a great blue heron, so I will keep checking the pond when I am in that part of town.
On our daily walks, my wife, Pam, and I have been making an effort to identify birds by their calls. Most good birders can instantly identify a bird by its call or song, which makes visual identification a lot easier. Lying in bed in the morning, I will try to differentiate between calls. One call that mystified me this spring turned out to be that of a Baltimore oriole. I was familiar with that bird’s usual song, however this call was different, and it was not until I went outside to find the source of the call that I realized that it was, in fact, another variation of the oriole’s call.
In past years, when walking down Brown Road, we have always heard the “teacher, teacher, teacher” call of at least two ovenbirds. Unfortunately, we have not heard them this year. I suspect it is because the area where they have nested in the past was substantially cleared of undergrowth and a lot of the trees, which destroyed the habitat in which the ovenbird nests. While walking in the woods behind us, we still hear at least two ovenbirds. This habitat should continue to attract these wonderful birds because, I assume, no clearing will occur there.
In the past, we have heard the “thump, thump, thump” of the roughed grouse drumming on a log in the woods. Alas, we have not heard him this year.
We still hear the familiar “Who cooks for you?” of a barred owl. He used to hang out in the woods closer to the development in Bolton, but recently we have heard him closer to our house.
Often, when we are working in the garden, we hear noisy alarm calls and are alerted to the presence of hawks. Blue jays are notorious for harassing hawks and owls. Their incessant screams will guide you to a hawk, either sitting unconcerned in a tree or being chased over the fields. Sometimes the jays are joined by a rowdy bunch of crows.
The activity around the bird feeder can also indicate the presence of a hawk. If the birds suddenly disappear and not a sound can be heard, most likely a Cooper’s or sharp-shinned hawk is nearby.
I learn songs of one species at a time. I listen, make a guess, and then try to find the bird to confirm my guess. Listening to bird calls on tape helps with this process, however it is only by repeatedly listening and observing the birds that I come to know the calls. It is a real bonus to see the bird singing, as we did last weekend on Nantucket, when we saw a song sparrow singing its heart out on a privet hedge just twenty feet away from us.
David Durrant lives with his wife, Pamela, on East Bare Hill Road at Micheldever Farm, where they run their business, Durrant Design, and watch birds—their own peacocks, chickens, and wild birds.
