On Swallow Time

It's hard not to be inspired by the efforts of a young Violet-green Swallow. I could be wrong, but I think this little one was in one of our nest boxes until just the other day. It still looks so young, and at the moment of this photograph, appears to still be testing its wings.
It wasn't that long ago it was this, an egg in a nest. Now, just a month later, it is out in the yard and fending for itself. But even more remarkably, in probably just a few more days, it will take off with the other Swallows and head south to Central America. Somehow I find it hard to even imagine a thing so small, starting out in a little box in a yard on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington, making such a journey. But it shall, and we will bid it farewell, along with all the other birds that come all this way to build nests and reproduce their young here.

So, this last of the Violet-green Swallow nestlings (sibling to the one above) finally fledged on Sunday. Gone. The yard was full of Swallows that all appeared to be trying to coax and tease this baby out of the nest over the past few days. He would have none of their antics. When he would tire of them, he would hide in the box, and only show himself if he thought his parents were bringing him food. He was even fooled a few times, as mom or dad flew toward him, but only came close enough to chase off an interloper. Now this baby is gone, and soon, he'll be wintering somewhere between Mexico and Nicaragua. The yard is disquietingly quiet.

I'd like to extrapolate from these birds, something about their natural rhythm of time and season, but I can't seem to get my mind off of how Congress voted quickly on the important FISA bill, so they could leave town and take their August vacation. Maybe a handful of Democrats didn't want to be branded soft on terror, as if even voting with Bush would spare them the label. I watch the birds, but it's Congress that teaches me the lesson of Swami Beyondananda: The truth shall upset you free.

Hot Enough for Impeachment?

Doesn't it just figure that the week we decide to get the house ready to put on the market, the temperatures soar off the charts? Did we make the gods angry or what? Seattle hit a record-breaking 98F on Wednesday. I was out painting the front porch and cursing all the global climate change naysayers. No wonder everyone says hell is hot. It certainly felt hellish to me. Our kitty cat Bonsai found the coolest space he could, stretched out on the tile floor. No such languid stretching for me or Roger, it's all work work work.
While I was painting the posts on the south side of the house, I noticed a little someone watching me. I wonder what Blanche's little nestling makes of all this crazy activity. This little one is quite the charmer. She only hides when we let the cat out, or when other juvenile Violet- green Swallows come and do fly-bys.
Her parents are so good to her. They fly around all day long bringing her all sorts of yummy insects. I've seen them out at dusk, swooping and swirling, catching the last of the day's meals.
While I was photographing the baby, beautiful Blanche came by and brought a snack. I think she is really looking good, and she's turned out to be such an attentive mom. I hope she comes back next year. If all goes well, we won't be here, but it's been a good yard for her to successfully raise her offspring.

While we're out working, I'm always looking around, but I also listen to Air America on the radio. I'll say this: The talk almost all day on Thursday was about impeaching the President. It was serious talk, and it was hard not to do a happy dance up on the ladder, but I was definitely only dancing on the inside. I heard someone say that the President doesn't even have to break the law to be impeached. He just needs to be incompetent. I think Bush has long since met that benchmark. It's past time to go, George, and please take Cheney with you. Everyday that you are in office I miss my good county and my Constitution.

And, finally, I know I've been remiss about Good Planets this month, and I apologize to SBGypsy who is hosting it. Please, if you have a beautiful photo that captures something special about our earth, please send it on Friday to sbgypsy AT hotmail DOT com.

Thanks, everyone, and have a great weekend.

Belle Reve

It's been hot so we're spending a lot more time outside. I can't say that makes Blanche Dubois happy. Oh, did we tell you that we've named our little Violet-Green Swallow Blanche Dubois? If ever a bird was leading a classically neurotic life, it is this high-strung swallow. It occurred to us, after her little takeover of the chickadee nest, to carefully watch her behavior. As far as we can tell, she's busy nest building, but she has no mate. She's alone, but she has big plans. We think she'll have a pretend clutch, and go through all the motions. Blanche is just that kind of bird. She flies at me every time I walk past her nest box. She hasn't come to terms yet with her reliance on the kindness of strangers. We are thinking about naming her nest box Belle Reve.

We're glad to report that she has stayed away from the chickadee nest box, where the chicks are progressing very nicely. On Saturday we noticed for the first time one of the chicks was sticking its head out of the box. That means they'll be fledging soon. We are looking forward to their leap. Once they are gone I can go back behind their box and start pulling some of the weeds. Part of what makes the yard attractive to the bobcat is how tall the weeds are back toward the fence. The chickadees scold me every time I go back there, so I will wait. But once they're gone, we can reclaim that part of the yard.

Another important reason for wanting the chickadees fully fledged and independent is our need to rethink our bird feeding strategies. Two weeks ago, we read in the local newspaper about a salmonella outbreak in the Pine Siskin population in British Columbia, which was heading south. We hadn't noticed any sick Pine Siskins until last Thursday when I photographed what looked to be a lump on the platform feeder. Bummer. Another sick one showed up on Friday. We took down our large three-tube feeder, and brought out one that does not have a tray and therefore has nowhere for the birds to defecate directly on to food. We bought a second feeder today that is a single tube and is small enough to fit into our sink where it can be cleaned thoroughly, once a week. I really wanted to just remove all the feeders, but the birds are feeding their young, or bringing them here, and I didn't want to stress them any more than they already are. We will just be that much more vigilant in keeping things clean. The white tray on the platform feeder is a plastic cutting board. We put that up two years ago because it is easily removed and can be cleaned, which we did regularly. We've taken that down and removed the wooden platform that held it.

It is a heartbreak to see sick birds, and fortunately we only saw two. Everyone else looks rather fine. The parents are bringing their babies around to see where the good seeds are. Sometimes they stop and feed them right outside on our gravel drive, where there's just natural wild seed that comes from all the crazy plants that push up. Just seeing that parent feed the baby makes all the efforts absolutely worth it. Even if Ms Blanche Dubois never learns to say thank you.

Of All The Nest Boxes...In All The World

We saw a Violet-Green Swallow take over the Black-capped Chickadee nest box. It's not something that was immediately apparent. One day the chickadees were flying about, feeding their young. Both parents -- going from the nest to the feeder, a quick fly around the yard, then back to the nest. Over and over. They were feeding hungry babies to be sure. Then there was a new bird hanging on the box. It was a Violet Green Swallow. So, I just assumed it was checking out nest boxes and saw that this one was already occupied. Well, okay.
But then the chickadees started to behave differently. They flew to the nest box, but didn't go in, just stared in from the opening. That didn't seem good at all. Suddenly a bird flies out of the box. Whoa, who's that? The parents go in and feed their young, but leave again. The swallow flies back in.

Is she adopting the box and the babies, or just the box, and the babies be damned? Brave Roger, who puts up with my fretting and meddling, opened the nest box from the side and found the swallow sitting on the nest. She gave him a look and flees. He quickly notices six or eight chickadee babies in there; one is already dead. He closed the nest box. We think we must take some action, but what?

One thing for certain, I was determined to not let the swallow back in the box. While Roger came up with a plan, I stood in front of the box with our long-handled, pond-skimmer net. The swallow tried over and over to get back in there, but I absolutely would not let her. She was aggressively persistent.

Roger devised this plan. He reasoned that the swallows only approach the nest from straight on, but the chickadees can approach it from many angles. They can cling sideways and upside down. He thought if he hung an overhang over the nest box opening it would deter the swallow by making it impossible for her to enter, but doable for the chickadee. So, with some left over shingles from our siding project of last summer, he partially blocked the entrance.
The swallow tried to get in, but could not. She was instantly thwarted. It took the chickadees about two seconds to figure out how to get to their babies. They went on an immediate feeding frenzy, spending the rest of the day flying in and out of the box with lots of food from the feeder.

We didn't want to, and probably couldn't anyway, completely banish this beautiful swallow from the yard, so Roger hung an unused nest box for her. She found it and after a little while decided it met her expectations, and took up residence.

I contacted our bird advice guru Julie Zickefoose to help us with some of the details. I wasn't sure if we should remove the dead bird or not. She said a definitive "yes." I also sent her photos of the nestbox with the overhang, and she suggested that we make it shorter because the babies need to see the world they are about to navigate and fly into.

Roger took the dead bird out on Saturday evening, and he cut the overhang Sunday morning.

If we hadn't been paying attention, we would never have known, but we believe with knowledge comes responsibility. I think that's even an apt lesson for Memorial Day.

We know we are tampering with nature here. We'll apologize at the Pearly Gates, after we've asked about the intelligence of such a design.

Please click on the pics to see the larger view of what's going on here.

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update: i checked the nest box this am. i counted 5 chicks, all alive and breathing. both parents have been spotted, bringing in food and taking out the poop.


not easy to see them all. the one on the right opened his beak for food several times. but not when i was ready with the camera.




the swallow in her own box.