Swiss Chard appeals to Goldfinches

Goldfinches are eating the Swiss chard at this time of the growing season.  When I initially noticed holes in my Swiss chard, I thought I had an insect problem.  ‘Strange’, I thought, ‘insects generally attack the tender under growth of plants, the new shoots’, but here the tops of the tallest, hardiest leaves of the Swiss chard had been perforated.   I no sooner sat back on my little garden bench after a bit of weeding and I heard the lovely little signature call so beloved by bird watchers and then he alighted.  A male Goldfinch took up a perch on the crest of a large leaf vein and began working a pattern in the foliage of the Swiss chard.  Soon another male Goldfinch came and then there were several, all males and the contrast of their brilliant yellow plumage against the back drop of the dark green Swiss chard stirred excitement buried deep within the birder’s psyche.  Discovering a behavior that had perhaps not been known about a species is gratifying.  It makes the bird watcher feel more akin to the species.

Chard is a wonderful vegetable and there are many varieties.   I prefer the hardy Fordhook but I have also grown Kaleidoscope and Rhubarb varieties of Swiss Chard which are as the names imply, very colourful and attractive enough to tuck away in the flower garden if space is in short supply.

Chard is highly nutritious and though there is a Kale craze going on at this time, I suspect that Swiss chard will eventually topple Kale’s crown for the title of “super green”.   In terms of health giving properties chard is up there with Watercress.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/08/18/kale-compared-to-other-vegetables_n_3762721.html

 

http://www.advancedbionutritionals.com

It would seem that goldfinches instinctively know where to find nutritious fare.  I grow a row of kale beside the Swiss chard but the birds do not partake of the kale.  Perhaps the leaves are not tender enough or perhaps there is too much of a pungent flavor to Kale while Swiss chard is mellow.  I personally think Swiss chard as a vegetable, surpasses even spinach in flavor. 

My vegetable garden and my flower garden are hard won, carved out of a much overgrown plot through which the rugged path meanders.  The soil is clay and I must constantly infuse it with additives to improve the health and texture of the ground as a planting medium.

Why I am driven to keep planting when others would realize the futility, I cannot say, but cultivating the earth is a passion.  I cannot abandon my love of gardening despite the rugged path which must be honed to maintain it and besides, the Gold finches are depending on the Swiss Chard for some mid summer sustenance. 

Moths

Who thinks about moths other than worrying about them making holes in our favorite old sweaters but moths are actually fascinating creatures.

Like the title of that famous jazz tune “Some fly by Night”, moths make night time a friendly place by their presence.

Last fall, on a daily sojourn along the rugged path, we espied a cocoon and then a second cocoon.  Compared to other cocoons, they were large, and crisp dried leaves had been incorporated into the outer covering of the larva’s spun material.  Secured to the branches of small shrubs about 3 to 4 feet from the ground, they were remarkably well camouflaged.   

We wished the sleeping beauties well and looked forward to seeing them in their winged form.

From those cocoons would emerge the Polyphemus Moth (Antheraea polyphemus) and like the title of Al Jerreau’s famous jazz piece “Some Fly by Night” this species of Lepidoptera  most certainly does just that. 

Though they fly by night moths are drawn to the flame or porch light as the case may be.

I am not certain as to whether this fellow emerged from one of the cocoons we saw last fall or if he hails from another location, but I am pleased to make his acquaintance as a newly emerged moth.

The Polyphemus moth was named after the all seeing one eyed giant of Greek mythology.  The early lepidopterists were impressed by the large eye spots, usually half hidden on his hind wings.  They are indeed striking with concentric rings of brilliant colour, but the eyespots on the forewings are rather amazing too, the centers of which are transparent.

Their status is rated by the scientists as “generally common” but I am sure most will agree they are anything but common.  Should a Polyphemus moth be sighted at your next star party, (celestial stars, that is), guess who shines brightest?

The Great Blue Heron

It was an apparition.  He wasn’t really there, was he?  The reeds were contorted so as to resemble a tall bird with ornate wispy plumes at his breast and on his head.  He has a crook neck and he wades invisibly and at a statue’s pace near the edge of the pond among the yellow irises and papyrus.   

My eyes had surely deceived me but then, he took flight.  The creaking sound of his wings reverberated like the heavy door to an inner sanctum being opened after many long years of being shut, its hinges in dire need of a few drops of oil. 

Of course the Great Blue Heron’s pinions were hardly in need of oil but the comparison serves to illustrate just how much effort was needed for the bird to become air borne.

Years ago, I walked with my old dog Bo Jangles by a meandering stream (now drainage ditch) and I felt badly when Bo would call up a storm and set the Heron to laborious flight.  Bo was not a malicious dog, he was only greeting his neighbours with puppy bark and playful stance. 

The Heron, in time, learned to ignore the old dog but cautiously  kept himself to the far side of the little stream and remained well hidden in the reeds. 

In flight, the Heron, with his folded neck and dangling long legs looks like some primordial bird, an escape from Jurassic Park, but then birds are a remnant hailing from the age of the dinosaurs so it is only natural that they should look like primordial creatures. 

Herons require very tall trees in which to nest. Their preference is to build one hundred feet above the ground. Often times, cliffs are a substitute location for nesting as giant trees become increasingly scarce.

We had a lofty tree on our little plot.  It was a giant Bass wood tree situated in the sacred hedgerow with other mature trees along side.  Every night as the sun was sinking we would watch as the Heron made her lonely flight in the direction of the Giant Bass wood.  The bird guides indicate Herons nest in colonies and both parents rear the young but this was not in our experience. 

When the autumn had revealed the stalwart limbs of the noble great trees, many nests could be counted at various heights and surprisingly in close proximity.   Beneath the ancient hedgerow along the rugged path, the dogs’ loved to run their noses through the crisp leaves of the Bass Wood which lay in dense lofts upon the ground. 

Looking upward, we saw a huge nest near the top of the towering tree.  We suspected it was the Heron’s nest.

The Heron is a fisher with keen eyesight and a very strong and dangerous bill.  It is wise never to attempt rescuing an injured heron as he can stab with great force.

Artisan creations of the Great Blue Heron are becoming increasingly popular as decorative yard art among the water gardener set.

Pond Watching

Admittedly, it sounds as though anyone with time enough to engage in pond watching has little else to do but truly the rewards are well worth an hour or even twenty minutes taken from our busy schedule to regard this remarkable and even mystical world very much apart from our world.

Water gardening is a method of connecting with the Natural world in our own back yards.  To sit on a deck with your morning tea or coffee overlooking a pond is a form of meditation.  Water lilies are magical.  To contemplate the lotus is a mystical experience.

To see the Great Blue Heron in his sylph like stance, so still, among the reeds, you may begin to wonder if he was really there at all or just a figment of your imagination or perhaps even  an otherworldly apparition. 

 Eventually he will take flight on cambered wings and you are again awe struck by the breadth of his wing span (70 inches according to the bird guides).  The creaking sound of his laborious take off seems somehow prehistoric.  You may not think he is aware of your presence but he sees you perfectly well.    I hesitate to use the word “tolerate”, I would venture to suggest that he “accepts” you as a neighbour. 

 

For some years there were Shiners in our pond.  We have no idea how they got there (perhaps stowaways in the shipment of water hyacinths and oxygenating plants we had ordered from Moore’s Water Gardens in Port Stanley, Ontario, Canada).http://moorewatergardens.com/

. Shiners are so called because the school of small fish just beneath the water’s surface shimmer like a jeweled bracelet caught in the sun’s rays. The school of fish suddenly takes evasive action and in unison they turn in such a way as to become invisible.

We often fed the little fish our toast crusts, watching with interest as the bread upon the waters was nibbled up very quickly. 

A turtle, an Eastern Painted turtle, would occasionally come out of the water to sun himself on the ledge or on the bough of the willow which fell in a storm.   We left it at the edge of the pond to build upon our little ecosystem.

The scientific community continues to debate about whether or not turtles can hear.  In our experience, even treading softly sends the turtle headlong into the pond licked-split.  If he does not have excellent hearing, he must be psychic. 

When the water lilies bloom, dragonflies abound. The species are many and varied.  They circle and dart and land upon the edge of a reed and just generally bedazzle the pond watcher.

There are pond skaters and night crooners and the moon’s reflection on the still glass surface of the water is a magical scene. The fragrant night-blooming water lilies makes the pond watcher fall in love with night.

To invest a little time near a pond offers so many rewards.  If the effort or expense is too great or there is not enough room, a pond in a bread bowl will work.   There are miniature species of water lilies and other aquatic plants available through many water garden nurseries.

To take up pond watching is to find a way back to your creative self. 

Be forewarned, you may find yourself wanting to put brush to canvas.  Consider Claude Monet’s works, the immensity of his collection and his inspiration?  Water lilies. 

Sources & Links:

http://www.finegardening.com/make-big-splash-tiny-water-gardenhttp://extension.illinois.edu/containergardening/water.cfm

Lilacs and Butterflies

 

The windows are open for the love of lilacs.  Their fragrance wafts through this old schoolhouse and I have just fallen in  love with lilacs all over again.  Their mauve hues and their perfume seem somehow healing.  They are a spring tonic, a form of aromatherapy.

There are usually beautiful yellow butterflies (Tiger Swallow Tails) flitting among the tree’s branches.

I have often mistaken the Tiger Swallow Tail for an American Goldfinch, the male of that species having handsome summer vestments of precisely the same colour as the butterflies’ wings. 

There is a huge patch of lawn which I do not mow until June because the wild phlox provides nectar for the butterflies.  I have seen many species gathered at the phlox and all in harmony with one another.  The wild phlox usually blooms at the same time as the lilacs but this year they are late.  Perhaps the butterflies will appear with the blooming of the phlox. 

Ever hopeful for the welfare of “all creatures great and small” is the theme of “My Rugged Path” blog.

Follow the link:  (butterfly gardens) http://espacepourlavie.ca/en/programming/butterflies-go-free

http://www.greenlivingonline.com/article/create-your-own-butterfly-garden

The Nuthatch

I have been spellbound by nuthatches since first I ever laid eyes on one while hiking along the Rugged Path.  I love his blue-grey back feathers, white breast and black cap.  His short tail helps him in spiralling up and down the trunk of a lofty white pine he evidently likes the seeds hidden inside the tree’s cones.  The seeds are only released from the mature cones and they are sought after by many birds and wee animals to the feast.   

Insectivorous, the Nuthatch also gleans larvae for tree trunks.  Nuthatches will also come to bird feeders in winter.  Suet appeals to them as well as shelled peanuts, “shelled and unsalted, S.V.P.”

His voice is distinctive and easily recognizable.  The bird guides describe the call of the White-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta Carolinensis) as a “yank, yank, yank” which is exactly so.  He generally pals around with the Black Capped Chickadees, those friendly little woodland troubadours who will come to your hand for a peanut.  Nuthatch is hesitant to follow so I place a half peanut (shelled) in the crook of a tree limb where he readily accepts the offering.

 In this month of March, a Red-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta Canadensis) has been coming close but he is so tiny he is surely not an adult.  The white stripe separating his black cap from his black eye stripe confirms that he is the Red-breasted Nuthatch.   This little fellow is closer in size to the chickadee though his short tail makes him look stouter. I was mistaken in thinking he was a solitary waif.  There are in fact, two.  I suspect they are immature birds which begs the questions:  Where are their parents and nestlings, this early in the season?  The Black-capped Chickadees are evidently dear friends to the little birds. 

Normally his range is the sub-alpine forests of the far north dipping south in winters.  His voice is different from the White-breasted Nuthatch’s  Yank, Yank, Yank call.  His call is a little higher pitched with a tin flute quality.  National Geographic Field Guide to the Birds of North America describes it as “a child’s tin horn”. 

I was mistaken about the Red-breasted Nuthatch being a solitary little fellow.  While trudging through the snow on the Rugged Path, there seemed many vocalizations between the little bird and at least one other of his kind, perhaps a prospective mate.

Nesting, according to bird guides requires a huge effort by the parents to successfully rear between 5 and 8 nestlings.  Both parents construct the nest in tree cavities, lining it with mosses and feathers and employing pine pitch and other tree saps smeared around the entrance to discourage insect invasion and perhaps also as a deterrent to predators.

His name is derived from his ability to hatch nuts.  He will place a nut in the crevice of tree bark and break it open with his long slender bill.

 

My cousins, who reside in southern Alberta have seen the Red-breasted Nuthatches as  regular visitors to their feeding stations this year too.I ventured to characterize the wee birds as quite tame but my cousins tell me the western race is “Cautious”.

 

In lore, Nuthatches were considered bewitched birds because of their habit of climbing downwards on tree trunks.  One of their common names is “the upside down bird”.  I think they are simply enchanting. 

 

For detailed and scientific information on Nuthatches, follow the link:

http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/birding/red-breasted-nuthatch/

http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/birding/white-breasted-nuthatch/

 

The Northern Cardinal

The Northern Cardinal  (Cardinalis cardinalis)  has been singing for a number of weeks at this location during the months of March and April.  Various bird guides describe the Cardinal’s  whistle differently but I think the easiest description to remember is the following:   “What cheer, what cheer, sweet, sweet, sweet”  He has quite a vocal range and a number of other calls including the “whoit, whoit, whoit, whoit”  but in spring he serenades his lady and all his human admirers with his “What cheer...” song.

He is a brilliant red in colour with a conical red bill and a contrasting black face and chin but his most impressive feature is his pronounced crest. The female cardinal is similar in appearance in all but colour.  While her wings, crest, tail and bill are red slightly more subdued in hue, the rest of her is a brownish-olive colour.  The males of all species of birds are generally dapper in their attire while the ladies’ frocks tend to be dower in colour, (Nature’s method of camouflage for nesting).

 

The preferred habitat of the cardinal is among hedgerows, streamside thickets, forest edges, & swamps.  Occasionally, cardinals will take up residence in suburban areas.

His singing is a delight to hear when there are patches of snow remaining in the woods. Cardinals are the fire birds of the Northern woods.  Their range has expanded northward in recent years, possibly due to global warming but also loss of habitat in their southern range.

They make their nests close to the ground and thus their eggs are easily plundered.  Both male and female are devoted parents.  They have a clutch of 4 eggs and often two broods in a season.  The Male cardinal takes over feeding of the fledglings while his mate is incubating the second clutch.  

 

The small plot of land which surrounds this abode is sacred to the occupants simply because it has become a habitat to such a variety of avian neighbours, the cardinal included.  My cousin remembers watching the cardinals when visiting some years ago.  That is the impression they leave on our psyches.   Generally it is thought that

 

Stravinsky had the mythical Phoenix in mind when he penned his composition  “The Firebird”  but I always think of the Cardinal as being “The Firebird”.   I send out my best wishes to the Cardinal and thank him for his lovely singing whenever he is near.

 

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the clearing of great tracts of land in this farming community, small pockets of wild space need to be protected more than ever.  The birds are depending on us to leave a little habitat aside for them.

The untamed patch calls out to the birds.

Once upon a time, farmers kept hedgerows and woodlots.  They rarely cut an oak tree.  The hedgerow protected crops from high winds and helped to contain blights carried on the wind.   They helped to prevent erosion of the delicate top soil  and  the farm animals found shade and shelter near the hedgerow.  The wild creatures, especially the birds made their homes in hedgerows.     Modern farming practices don’t value the wisdom that has been inured through the ages and modern science has confirmed.  Common sense seems to have been abandoned?   “Gleaning”   seems  to be  the operative word in this age of industrial farming.   Why have the old farming  practices derived from the wisdom of the ages,  inherited down through generation upon generation of farming families, been abandoned?

We have to wonder how many ancient lands, once fertile agrarian communities, became desserts?  Time and again, archeologists uncover ancient civilizations lost to the sands of the dessert. 

The delicate balance which makes soil arable is fast diminishing.  Deeper plowing, chemical applications and removal of hedgerows and stream bank brush is hastening the destruction of the good Earth. 

We can help by buying organic produce if we can afford it but also we can reserve a little space in our backyards designated  “This place is for the Birds”.    Where birds thrive, the land is healthy.

 I digress.  This blog is about birds which desperately need at least one twig every few thousand yards on which to land.  The poor birds become exhausted trying to make it from one perch to the next.  

 The small plot surrounding this country abode serves an oasis, a sanctuary where birds can find respite and nesting sites and quietude.

I feel that I have taken on a sacred trust and it has now become my obligation to maintain this sanctuary for the birds. 

This Place is For the Birds.  

Follow the following links:

DW English Saturday, May 9, 2015