June lull

Things have slowed down slightly at LWR, giving me a weird but welcome break in the middle of baby season. (And I probably just jinxed myself and will now be inundated!)

The released woodpeckers continue to visit sporadically, flying in to demand a quick handout and then skittering up the tree trunk.

The runt is on borrowed time. As you can see from the photo and video clip of him in the flight pen, he’s massively underdeveloped compared to his released sibs. He cannot fly; he scoots along the mesh from place to place. His feathers aren’t developing properly, and he wears almost as much of his food as he eats, despite my wiping him down after each feeding. I’m letting him stay in the flight pen during the day and bringing him in at night, just to allow him to experience the outdoors safely. To be honest, I suspect his was an egg that shouldn’t have hatched, and if he and his sibs had remained in their nest, he would have been dead weeks ago. He’s such a sweet, good-natured little fellow that I’m trying to give him as much time as possible, but I know I’m postponing the inevitable…

The brown thrasher is in the flight pen and should be released later this week. In this photo, he had decided slinging food was fun. I think he enjoyed hearing me swear…I ended up with more on me than he did on him, but he looks considerably cuter than I do wearing his food.

I lost three of the four Carolina wrens from last week; they just suddenly dropped dead. Wrens can be so frustrating. It may have been stress at not being in the flight pen; because our rains last week were quite heavy at times, I kept all the birds slated for the flight pen inside until Saturday, when we had a break in the rain. A new Caro came in during the week and although slightly younger than the surviving member of the quartet, is housed with her now. Both are actually ready for the flight pen and will be headed there tomorrow morning.

When a caller informed me he had found a whippoorwill by the side of the road, I mentally corrected him, “Chuck-will’s-widow.” You see, whippoorwills aren’t common south of Georgia’s fall line, while their larger “cousins” the chuck-will’s-widows are. You can imagine my surprise when I picked up the bird and it was in fact a whippoorwill! Unfortunately, the poor bird’s right wing was trashed beyond repair.

All nightjars have tiny beaks that open to large mouths, as they eat on the wing, scooping insects from the air at night. Because they frequently hunt near roadways, their injuries are usually fatal—no matter how carefully you’re driving, there’s often no way to safely avoid hitting a bird that flies right in front of you from out of nowhere. That said, however, if you do hit a bird of any species, whether it’s during the day or at night, please stop to check on it and call a rehabber if necessary. Even if its wounds are fatal, we can at least ensure it doesn’t suffer needlessly.

Grackles have so little going for them. They’re a nondescript sort of purplish-black. They don’t have pretty songs. They’re just so ugly and awkward they’re cute when they’re young. Their sole redeeming feature is their striking yellow eyes, but they have brown eyes when they’re babies.

Why the soliloquy on grackles? Look at this poor fellow. I swear, I have to laugh at him every time I feed him…and wipe him down afterwards, as he frequently slings food…yeah, there’s nothing remotely graceful or dainty about these birds…But I’m still very fond of the ungainly little rascal!

And just this morning this very unhappy and quite sullen fledgling mocker came in. His finder called me last night and had gone through all the right steps to allow the parents to care for their baby, but he seemed to be wandering alone—and mocker parents WILL make their presence known, trust me—so as darkness approached, she was worried that roaming neighborhood dogs might kill the baby during the night, as he showed no inclination to fly.

Please note that it’s always better to leave a fledgling songbird alone for its parents to care for UNLESS…a) said parents don’t seem to be present (watch from a hidden area; the parents usually won’t come down if they can see you); b) the fledgling appears injured or weak; and/or c) the fledgling’s life is in danger. In this case, absent parents and canine threats made rescuing the angry little fellow the right move. Although he’s older than the grackle, they’re roomies at the moment, in hopes that the grackle’s enthusiastic demands for food will encourage the mocker to eat without needing force-feeding.