Eastern Towhee Nest

Eastern Towhee is a bird that I see year round at Blue Jay Barrens.  A few of the birds overwinter here and are occasional guests at the birdfeeder. Their numbers climb significantly in the early spring with birds that spent the winter at a more southern location. Over the years, I’ve seen many young birds in the care of their parents, but have never found an active nest. Until now.

This is the first towhee nest that I have ever found.

I was walking across this field when I flushed a towhee from the grass while stepping down the cut bank shown in the center of the photograph.

Birds don’t usually flush from under my feet unless they’ve been disturbed from a nest. I stared at the bank and the surrounding area but could see no evidence of a nest.

It wasn’t until I got within a couple feet of the bank that I found the nest tucked beneath an overhanging cascade of dead grass.

The female towhee was frantically calling from a nearby cedar, so I only lingered long enough to capture a few images of the nest. I’ve read that Eastern Towhee nests are highly parasitized by Brown-headed Cowbirds. I hope this nest avoids that fate.

Nesting Song Sparrows

It is natural for one of my garden fence posts to be topped by a Song Sparrow.  Through most of the spring and summer, a Song Sparrow uses this perch to sing his song of ownership over a prime nesting territory.  The bounds of that territory may match the garden fence, because the nests are mostly to be found somewhere in the garden.

This juniper seems to be the preferred location of the first nest of the season.  That’s probably because this shrub is the best source of cover early in the year.  Had it not been for the sparrows, I would have removed the juniper long ago.  I do trim it back severely each year so it doesn’t take up too much gardening space.

The pruning tends to make the branches more dense.  I can hear when a nest is active, but finding the nest without disturbing it is nearly impossible.

It’s after the fact that I discover the nest locations.  This shot is from the same angle as the last.  I just pulled up the concealing branch. 

The nests always seem to be sandwiched tightly between two branches, with the top branch making a low ceiling over the nest.  This makes the nest quite well hidden and difficult for most predators to approach.

Sometimes the birds will choose a location other than the juniper for their second nesting attempt.  Severe downdraughts from a powerful thunderstorm laid over a portion of this stand of Ashy Sunflowers.  The result was a tangle of horizontal stems close to the ground.

A couple weeks after the storm, I was trimming back some of the fallen plants to keep them from interfering with corn growing in a neighboring bed.  I stopped my work when I noticed a wad of grass seemingly stuffed between the stalks.  The grass should not have been there.

The grass I had seen was part of a Song Sparrow nest.  A couple of the stalks I had already cut had formed part of the roof over the nest, so the nest was more exposed than intended.  I bent a couple of fresh stalks over the nest and wove them in with the others in an attempt to repair the damage I had done.  Then I left the area alone for a few days and hoped that the sparrows would accept my alteration of their original design.

Apparently I was successful.  When next I checked, young birds were growing nicely.  If there was a problem, it was being caused by the wind blown plants attempting to return to a more upright position.  The shifting plant stalks had moved the nest about 30 degrees off level.  The nestlings seemed comfortable in their slanted home and were old enough to adjust their positions to match the new attitude.  Song Sparrow nestlings leave the nest about ten days after hatching, so these only had a few more days left in the nest anyhow.

One day I came out and heard young birds calling from the nearby field.  I checked the nest and it was empty. 

Although I could clearly hear the young birds calling for their meals, they stayed out of sight down in the grass.  The adult birds were seen busily searching for insects to deliver to their offspring.  It’s hard to tell how many sparrows have been produced from my vegetable garden.  I am assuming that it is the same male that comes back each year to this particular spot.  I once read of a male Song Sparrow that returned to the same nesting area 16 years in a row.  I hope my bird can match that longevity.

Chuck-will's-widow

I was walking near the top of a dry ridge when a large brown bird jumped from the ground and flew a short distance to perch on a fallen branch.  While I took its picture, it sat making a low grunting noise.  I had been hearing this species calling from the woods every spring for the last 12 years, but this was the first I had ever clearly seen.  I was looking at my first Chuck-will’s-widow.

Chucks are ground nesting birds and the behavior of this individual made me think there might be eggs nearby.  Even though I hadn’t been looking directly at the bird when it flushed, I was sure it had come from somewhere in this area.  I snapped this picture in order to have a reference image.  My plan was to make a quick search for the nest and the image would help me get back on the proper line if I had to detour around any fallen branches or other obstacles.

I knew the nest would be hard to see, so I was watching to make sure I didn’t put my foot down on any eggs.  I also didn’t want to keep the bird long from its eggs.  My search was carefully conducted in a slow rush.

Then I saw the eggs, identified by a red circle in the photo. 
 

Two eggs, essentially just placed in the open on the ground.

There’s really no nest, just a slight depression created by the brooding bird.

The mottled eggs blend perfectly with the mixed bag of leaves.  When I first moved here, the spring nights were full of the calls of Whip-poor-wills, a close relative to the Chuck-will’s-widow.  When the call of a Chuck woke me at three in the morning twelve years ago, I hurried outside and spent a half hour listening to it sing.  Since then, Chuck numbers continue to increase while Whips are on the decline.

The bird remained close while I took a couple of hurried shots of the eggs.  I was quickly away and I’m sure the eggs were covered shortly after my departure.  Incubation for this species is 20 days, so I’ll stay away long enough to let the eggs hatch in peace.  I’ll go back after that to see if I can find remnants of the hatched eggs.

Some Bird Nests

I’ve seen four Robin’s nests so far this spring.  Two in cedars, one in a white pine and this one anchored to my house.  The Robins are year-round residents and spend the winter months feeding on various fruits or searching the creek edges for various arthropods and worms.

This female completed her clutch at the usual four eggs.  She’s been sitting for a week now, so the eggs should be half way to hatching.

Ledges are often used as nest sites.  Robins also readily utilize an open platform type nest box.
 

Usually the nest is higher than just a couple of feet above the ground.  I’m hoping this one doesn’t attract any passing predators.  The Robin nest is in close proximity to a Phoebe nest on a platform showing in the upper left corner of the photo.

The Phoebe chicks are already well developed.  I installed this nest platform specifically for the Phoebes in an attempt to keep them from nesting on the porch.  Porch nests almost always failed, usually because some unexpected late night visitor spooked the birds from the nest and the young succumbed to exposure overnight.  The Phoebes now raise at least one family each year on this platform.

The Wild Turkey nest I showed a couple of weeks ago has been plundered by some predator with a taste for eggs.  I have been purposely staying away from the nest so as not to leave a scent trail to be followed by hungry mammals.  A broken egg on the nearby walking trail was evidence of what had happened and the disturbed nest was clearly visible from a distance.

I’ve seen Opossums, Skunks and Crows do this type of damage to eggs.  Those three species are all common here.  This is why the turkey lays so many eggs.  It only takes a small percentage of successful nests to sustain the population.

The nest boxes are doing a brisk business.  Out of a dozen boxes, only one held a Bluebird nest.  Since I see several Bluebird pairs around the field, I assume some are nesting in natural cavities.

Tree Swallows occupy the majority of the boxes.  Twenty-five years ago, it was uncommon to see a nesting pair of Tree Swallows.  Bluebirds dominated the boxes at that time.

Feathers are used to line the Tree Swallow nest.  Turkey feathers are becoming more common, but the majority seem to come from domesticated ducks and chickens.

A single nest box was unoccupied and this is the reason why.  Wasps will aggressively defend their nest site from intruding birds or photographer’s heads.

The empty box did offer a platform from which the Meadowlark could sing undisturbed.  This guy tried to sing from occupied boxes, but was driven away by the resident nesting pair every time.  I’m not sure if the birds were defending their nest site against an intruder or just being critical of the Meadowlark’s vocalizations.

Bird Box Nest Progress

The Bluebirds and Tree Swallows have finally settled down and are busily raising families.  Earlier in the year there was constant squabbling over possession of nest boxes and establishment of territories.  Now the field resembles a friendly suburban neighborhood with bird parents coming and going from their work of gathering food for growing broods. One brood of Bluebirds has already fledged from this box, and a second attempt is underway.

The normal sequence is to alternate Tree Swallows and Bluebirds in the boxes.  That may be because the current occupant of the box drives away all others of the same species.  When the box becomes available, it is more likely that a different species is on hand and ready to take advantage of the opportunity.  I was surprised to find back-to-back Bluebirds this time.

Another Bluebird brood had just left a box a little further along the trail.  I went ahead and cleaned the old nest out to prepare for future nests.  A new pair will go ahead and build over an old nest.  Since there’s usually only a short span between fledging and beginning of a new nest, I don’t always get the old nest cleaned out in time and the nests begin to stack up.

This is a more rural abode that sits well off the trail towards the center of the field.  It has seen over 20 years of service and though it now sports some replacement parts, it’s heavily used every year.

It is currently housing a family of young Tree Swallows.

The next box down the line is also home to Tree Swallows.  Swallows are currently outproducing Bluebirds by a margin of 2:1.  I’ll probably have to put up a few new boxes this winter to accommodate the mob of birds that will arrive next spring.

This is the oldest box in the field.  It changed hands several times before a pair of Tree Swallows finally held on long enough to finish a nest and fill it with eggs. The young inside are very near to fledging.  To avoid the possibility of prematurely flushing the youngsters out of the nest, I didn’t open the box for a picture.

Warning:  If you dislike stale, cliché, used to death conclusions; discontinue reading this post now.

You’ve now reached the tail end of this story.

Killdeer Nest Destroyed

The Killdeer nest failed before it really got started.  Three days after I found the nest, we had a thunderstorm that produced heavy rain, strong winds and at the peak of the storm, dropped half inch hail for a full five minutes.  The egg didn’t have a chance.

I was disappointed when I checked the nest the next day.  I was also puzzled to find there was still only one egg.  I felt sure that the nest should have received one or two more eggs in those three days.  Maybe the nest was already a loss before the storm arrived.

I removed the broken egg on the off chance that the nest was still active.  I’ve read that there can sometimes be a significant time lag between eggs, although the chances are slim that this nest will see any more action.  It’s already been six days since the storm and I haven’t heard Killdeers calling at all during that time.  This empty depression will probably remain for the rest of the summer to remind me of the opportunity that was lost.

Killdeer Nest

After 27 years of flying over what I believed to be a perfect nesting site, a pair of Killdeer has begun egg laying at Blue Jay Barrens.  This is the first egg in what I hope will be a successful nesting attempt.

I have always thought this would be an ideal place for a Killdeer’s nest.  The ground is fairly level and rocky and there are a couple of acres that are open enough for newly hatched chicks to easily move around.  I see Killdeer in the area every year, but this is the first time they’ve been on the ground.  I’ve always wondered why they are so willing to nest in driveways or playgrounds or golf course fairways, but wouldn’t nest here.

The female flushed from the nest when I came up the hill.  I kept my eye on the spot she had departed and walked right up to the nest.  I might not have found it if I hadn’t been expecting to see Killdeer eggs.

The nest is just a depression scraped out of the loose stone.  It will be pretty crowded by the time the clutch is complete.

The flat white stone makes it easy to locate the nest position from a distance.  Incubation period for Killdeer eggs is about 25 days, so if the female lays an egg a day and stops at the normal four eggs, I should expect to see young Killdeer on the hill in about four weeks.  Now that I know the nest is there, I’ll avoid that area and give the birds some peace.  I’m hoping for the best.