Woodpeckers are Enchanting Birds

Downy woodpeckers (Picoides pubescens) and Hairy Woodpeckers (Picoides villosis) grace bird feeders year round, over most of North America, excluding the Northern tundra & far south-western United States and Mexico.  In Eastern Ontario, we need only hang a bit of suet from the sleeping lilac branch in winter to win the friendship of these gregarious, enchanting birds.  A few shelled peanuts added to the feeder offerings will earn their undying patronage as well.

The bills of both birds are chisel-like and designed for the excavation of grubs and boring insects which burrow into the cambium layer beneath the outer bark of trees.  It might be noted that when the cambium layer of a tree is severely injured, the tree dies and thus many woodpeckers in a forest is an indication of a healthy forest.  Wood peckers will climb trees in a spiral ascent backing down every now and then to peruse crevices they may have missed.  Biologists believe that by tapping with their bills and listening (with evidently acute hearing) to the reverberation, they can determine where insects are at work under stout tree bark.   Their long claws do not detract from their handsome appearance in the least.  It is a marvel to watch woodpeckers scale a tree with surefooted prowess.

Their merry tribe tends to band together with those other little minstrels of the wood, the Chickadees.  The Nuthatch will also lend his voice, a bass “yank, yank” to the forest songster’s refrain.  The cross country skier travelling along side the hedgerow will undoubtedly encounter the musical quartet of chickadee, nuthatch, Hairy and Downy woodpeckers.  It seems to this skier that I am a welcome friend. 

The woodpeckers take their cue from the chickadee and fly from tree to tree just a little ahead of the skier.   The sound of the woodpecker in flight is unmistakable once initially identified.  Something in the airfoil around his wings is distinctly different to the sound of other birds in flight.  The Downy woodpecker’s undulating flight might be characterized as flying scallops through the air.

Long years ago, the family dog, a Lab mix, emulated the woodpecker’s flight by leaping along a path in the bird’s wake. It became a long standing ritual and human spectators were amazed.  The woodpecker seemed to enjoy the interspecies banter sometimes nearly alighting on the dog’s nose.  Hard to believe but true--if only video cameras had been available in those days.  

The woodpecker excavates nesting sites as high as 50 feet, in the trunks of mature, very often dead, trees.  By virtue of his larger size, the Hairy woodpecker must find a mature stand of woods.  It can be challenging for woodpeckers to find nesting sites, particularly when many of us think that clearing dead wood from our woodlots is just good forest management.

 

Both Downy and Hairy woodpeckers lay 5 to 7 eggs.   For two weeks, both parents incubate the white eggs.  The Downy fledglings leave the nest after approximately two weeks, while their larger cousins fledge the nest at more than four weeks.

In Swedish, the woodpecker is called Ragnfagel which translates to Rain bird, possibly because the smaller woodpecker’s tap-tapping on hollow trees has a resonant quality that sounds like raindrops on the wooden surfaces of inverted oaken buckets and casks and barrels, the vessels of the our forefathers when bird nomenclature was evolving.  It is also thought that the larger woodpecker’s drumming was equated with Oden and the sounds of thunder.  Certainly on the dreariest of days, woodpeckers can often be found at an offering of suet, bringing a little sunshine into the hearts of bird watchers.

Winter Gardens

Winters are so very long for gardeners of Northern latitudes. Many of us become disheartened with the dreary days and nary a bloom to lift our spirits.

Circling every new addition listed in the seed catalogues offers some consolation.  The lofty ambitions are but dreams and the list will have to be scaled back to a manageable undertaking when actually ordering but it is nice to dream.

 

Some of us need more tactile encounters with the garden, and while house plants are lovely, a flower or two in our midst really helps boost gardener moral.

On the window sills of This Auld Schoolhouse grows my indoor winter garden.  The fragrance of herbs when the hand brushes over them, brings back memories of summer.    The occasional bloom on the geraniums in the bleak midwinter goes a long way in bringing cheer after the Christmas boughs have been relegated to the compost heap. 

I particularly love scented geraniums or Pelargoniums.  Though their flowers may not be as brilliant as, say Martha Washington’s fully double blooms (and who doesn’t love Martha Washington’s), Pelargoniums have delightfully scented leaves in a variety of shapes and textures, some variegated, but the real attraction is fragrance.  The gardener is transported to the summer garden.   The fragrance range includes such varieties as Frensham Lemon,  Attar of Roses,  Pungent Peppermint, Strawberry (Countess of Scarborough) and Nutmeg to name a few.  I especially love Prince of Orange which has a delightful orange scent and Fair Ellen which has sticky leaves and a woodsy scent.  It is somehow very appealing.  Then, there is Peacock which has an intense rose fragrance and Fernleaf which has interesting delicately cut leaves and smells like a pine forest.  If that isn’t echoes of summer, what is?

I could extol the virtues of Pelargoniums forever and a day but  maybe just follow the link.

http://gardening.about.com/od/plantprofile1/p/Growing-Caring-For-And-Using-Scented-Geraniums.htm

http://www.motherearthnews.com/organic-gardening/scented-geraniums-zmaz84jazloeck.aspx#axzz3Lhiwl8RC

 

The paper narcissus and the amaryllis are lovely but I especially love the cyclamen.  It blooms long and sometimes seeds back.

When all else fails to let us indulge  doing a study of stained glass

 When even the blooms on the window sill fall into the winter doldrums, stained glass looks rather like a summer garden.

Of course the master of stain glass artistry was Louis Comfort Tiffany and when I find myself missing my summer blooms, I follow the link...

https://www.google.ca/search?q=tiffany+windows

Smitten with Butterflies

For those of us smitten with butterflies, per chance some good news on the horizon and just when butterflies are noticeably in decline if last summer was an accurate indicator.  Monarchs were few and far between this year on my little patch though some folk reported otherwise.  

The good news is that some one in Quebec has discovered that the downy fibers contained in the Milkweed Pod are very effective in absorbing oil and could be used in cleaning up small oil spills.  Parks Canada is going to keep a supply on hand in the eventuality of an oil spill (God forbid).  The milkweed, long detested by farmers may become a lucrative venture for farmers to plant.    Milkweed is a host plant and a nectar plant for the Monarch Butterfly.  Who knows, perhaps it could be used on large scale spills as well.

Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), found growing along roadsides, and in waste places always seemed a pretty plant to me.  I found it hard to take the scythe to it.   Of course I was thrilled when a neighbour gave me some of his Asclepias tuberosa which is otherwise known as Butterfly weed.  A close cousin to Milkweed it surely lives up to its common name.  Butterflies just love it.

Milkweed plantations over vast areas of North America can only help the Monarch butterflies on their long migrations.

For more on the discovery of the attributes of milkweed and plantation possibilities, follow the link.

http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/milkweed-touted-as-oil-spill-super-sucker-with-butterfly-benefits-1.2856029

Milkweed attracts all butterflies including members of the family of the Brushfooted butterflies 

Are wild animals capable of noble acts?

My dear friend, Carol, directed me to the link listed below.  We tend to agree that wild animals are capable of being protective of other species' cubs.   Please feel free to write in your comments below.
http://www.nbcnews.com/id/8305836/ns/world_news-africa/t/ethiopian-girl-reportedly-guarded-lions/#.VG9ckE3wvIU

Flowers for my Mother, and my Father too

“The Last Rose of Summer” to borrow Thomas Moore’s lovely lyric is how I regard myself.  “Who would live in this bleak world alone”, but the legacy of summer’s draught sustains me, the gift bestowed by “roses of yesteryear”.  There amid the withering vines, my banner marks the spot where once flourished a garden.

In memory of my dear Mother and my dear Father too, who were avid gardeners and birders, I will record sundry thoughts on flowers and birds throughout the seasons.

Toronto Bouquet Tulips, have inspired this gardener when the prelude of spring seems to have been forgotten by the great maestro of the scheme of things. I would like to post a photo because the flowers are so remarkably resilient.

Winters have a deep abiding beauty in the psyches of Northerners, but in April most everyone tends to be discouraged when a robin has yet to be espied. 

What happened to Global warming? One theory expounds that the equatorial winds, according to their circuits, are melting the polar ice caps and thus countries of Northern Latitudes are going to be experiencing more polar vortexes during winter. Summers may be hotter than ever but winters may be longer and colder.  I am not a climatologist so perhaps it is wise to check out these observations elsewhere.  

My Dear Mother (God Rest Her) lamented that tulips were with us for too short a time.  Despite there being early, mid and late season varieties, she insisted that like spring, they faded too quickly. 

In the Victorian language of flowers, tulips are a declaration of love. My tulips in the snow have certainly declared their love of life and living and demonstrated it by hailing spring and blooming despite the snow.

God grant that my spirit may be as resilient as the tulips in the snow and as my mother was.

I invite like-minded kindred spirits to read the upcoming publication of my book, entitled The Nature Diary of an Incurable Romantic, A Seasonal Calendar~ Observations and Reflections on Nature as Regarded from the Windows of a Century Old Schoolhouse.