Some Birds of Winter
by Chris O’Connor
I’m not a “birder,” although I find birds fascinating.
I’m amazed when a pileated woodpecker lofts hereabouts, catching my eye before it lights in a pine tree. And I’m intrigued with his wee relation, the downy woodpecker that visits feeders in the backyard. The cardinals that touch down at the feeders fly into the nearby shrubs and perch like crimson ornaments left over from Christmas.
The winter avian visitors that captivate me above all others are the cedar waxwings (shown above).
When I was a child and homebound for whatever reason, I’d pore over my parents’ encyclopedias, and always pull out the volume that contained descriptions of birds and some color plates. The page which held me transfixed was one that depicted the cedar waxwing.
It wasn’t until relocating here some twenty-eight years ago that I saw my first cedar waxwing. It wasn’t just one cedar waxwing, it was a massive gang flocking over a particular crabapple tree on the fence line, about which our dear friend Clarence Hahn often expressed a deep affinity.
Not only did the tree draw in the elusive birds that I’d long to see, but our “ornamental” pond drew them even closer in to drink, so there was no need to trot out binoculars or a camera with telephoto lens. Again, I was transfixed, but all I had to do was furtively slip aside the curtain to glimpse one of the most beautiful birds in the region.
I know more about the cedar waxwing’s appearance than its habits, which I’ve only observed in the dead of winter, while they voraciously consume the crabapples.
The cedar seems to be clad in satin. One cannot discern where one feather meets the next. Its seamless melding of feathers go from the most intriguing brownish humble crest to an enigmatic black mask outlined in white, then melds into soft brown wings, also outlined in white. The underside of the cedar is pale lemon yellow. Its tail tips are brighter yellow.
There are few crabapples left for the cedar waxwings this winter. The trees and the ground have been swamped by ravenous hordes of robins. Robins are said to join flocks that can number in the thousands. The lone bird or two we see in spring, cocking its head toward the turf to listen for worms, is carving out territory for a nesting site.
Fortunately, we are graced with the presence of many bird species that over-winter on the Mountain. Each species has its own appeal, whether it be its habits/behavior, the intrinsic beauty of the bird’s plumage, or something like the stark call of the blue jay in the hush of a winter day.
I get a kick out of our winter birds. The nuthatch, a bird that spends much of its time upside down moving around tree trunks, lights at the feeder and is gone in a blink. It’s as cute as a button. It wedges its found nut in tree bark, then hammers the nut with its bill until the nut is “hatched.”
I provide birds a commercial mix that includes seeds, nuts, and dehydrated fruit, which attracts more than twenty species. Millet seems to be the least attractive to the birds, so I avoid mixtures that contain it.
The Christmas tree is useful as a makeshift shelter, tethered on the windward side on a table that holds a roofed feeder and loose food scattered about on a shallow platform. The tree offers the birds some semblance of shelter, so they can feed in peace, while allowing me to gaze at my avian acquaintances without disturbing them.
Windows are a clear and present danger to birds (no pun intended).
Cornell Lab of Ornithology at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, urges folks to place feeders within three feet of windows. Birds aren’t flying full tilt, and boogie in that short distance, thereby lessening the chance that a collision with a window will kill the bird upon takeoff. Theoretically, birds collide with windows because they reflect the natural environment, i.e. clouds, sunlight, trees, turf, and water.
An estimated eighty species of birds utilize cavities for shelter and nesting. There are “primary” cavity builders such as the woodpeckers, and “secondary” cavity dwellers that will opportunistically squat in a cavity. For this reason “snags”—dead trees that are often riddled with insects, providing food for the insectivorous birds and ready shelter—are considered a boon to wildlife, providing they aren’t a threat to human life or habitat.
If a bird lover wants to provide cavity shelters for birds, there are many ways for a naturalist to be creative using found materials. One can also find plans for building cavity shelters for birds on the Internet that include an important feature, perches or roosts.
Providing a habitat benefits many species, including the birds of winter. A deserted corner of a small property that’s been allowed to grow back to nature can support many species of creatures as can a snag or a rotting tree stump. Perennial plants left standing with their seed heads can be another food source for birds.
Fortunately, residents of our rural environment can enjoy many opportunities to observe wild animals in their natural habitat.
The best part of watching the birds of winter is that one doesn’t have to don a heavy coat and can enjoy them while sitting in a comfy chair by the fireplace or back window.
