The Bold and Confiding Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus)

     Even though Christmas comes and goes without celebration or fuss, I received an amazing Santa gift.

      Louise de Kiriline Lawrence is unique in so many ways in the storied history of Canadian ornithology, the author of many books, both for adults and children.

      This book, an anthropomorphic account told by a Black-capped Chickadee named Peet, is written for a child, but it matters not, for good literature is good literature. To the extent that it is possible I put myself in the mind of a youngster, ten or eleven years old perhaps, and marvelled at the information gained about Canadian avifauna in so delightful a manner. I would have learned without knowing it.

     In addition the book is charmingly illustrated by Thoreau MacDonald, a leading exponent of black-and-white illustrations; the artwork is simply splendid. MacDonald gravitated towards black-and-white artwork as a way of coping with colour blindness.

     So, in one volume one has the impassioned outpourings of a distinguished (and since her death, revered) Canadian ornithologist and an equally exalted Canadian illustrator who has few equals in his chosen genre.

     Such a gift!

     But the purpose of this account is not to extol the virtues of the book, but to reflect on the pleasure of communion with chickadees. It was de Kiriline's statement in the Introduction that engaged my thoughts.

"I fell in love with Peet, my Black-capped Chickadee, the moment he curled his firm little claws around my finger to get the sunflower seed I held out to him. That elfin grip was like the handclasp of friendship from another world. From out of the mysterious spheres of Nature this elusive sprite had come to me of his own free will. Without fear or hesitation, with one airy gesture, he cancelled all the inherent distrust between man and the untamed bird. It was a wonderful moment that I shall never forget."

     It struck me immediately that this reflected my own experience, expressed so eloquently by de Kiriline, for whom English was not her first language. I don't remember my exact first experience, but the sense of joy has been embedded within me since the first moment a chickadee landed on my hand.

     There is a feeling verging on metaphysical that a bird weighing a mere 10 -14 grams (half an ounce), whose life I could extinguish merely by closing my hand and crushing it, is willing to trust me and share its world with me. I know of no one who has enjoyed the experience who does not feel the same way.

     You might be surprised (or perhaps not) at the number of people who have asked me to take them to where they can feed a chickadee. People young and old, from experienced birdwatcher to absolute novice, scientist and layman, man, woman and child. Their reaction is universal. Joy, pure unalloyed joy, a wellspring of emotion from deep within, themes of connection to our own origins.

     Surely little is more sorely needed during these terrifying days of environmental destruction and the daily experience of a world that is unravelling around us, than an intimate connection, or a reconnection, with nature. Therein lies sanity, therein lies peace, therein lies the fundamental truth that we are all connected. It is not "we" and "they", it is "us."

     In his indelibly prescient and visionary book Eaarth, Bill McKibben makes it very clear that the Earth we once knew no longer exists.  We are moving into the murky land of the unknown, where soaring global temperatures and all the disturbances that will result, will change the very nature of our lives. Indeed they are already occurring. Just ask the Californian whose forests and woodlands are ravaged by wildfires year after year, fires that start earlier and burn hotter and longer. Ask the citizens of Jasper, AB or Lytton, BC whose towns were destroyed. Ask the Inupiaq of Alaska as they watch the methane bubbling up in the waters of melted permafrost, who are forced to become spectators in the termination of their traditional way of life.

     Might I hold high the hope that a chickadee will remain a connection to all that I cherish? Is it too much to ask that we should permit this fellow traveller still to commune with us? Every foolish action we take, every failed climate conference, every denial of the truth before our eyes jeopardizes all life, not only our own.

     Louise de Kiriline Lawrence waxes poetic about "the handclasp of friendship from another world." 

     May it never be offered in vain.

Black-capped Chickadee (Mésange à tête noire)

The fields are bleak, and they are, as it were vacated. the very earth is like a house shut up for the winter, and I go knocking about in it in vain. But just then I heard a chickadee on a hemlock, and was inexpressably cheered to find that an old acquaintance was yet stirring about the premises. All that is evergreen in me revived at once. 

Henry David Thoreau

7 November, 1858

     Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus) is one of our most familiar birds and surely one of the best loved. 

     It is hard to imagine anyone indifferent to its charm, especially upon hearing its excited chickadee-dee-dee chatter or its plaintive, wistful fee bee song. It is very confiding around humans and is easily attracted to a backyard, especially if shelter, water and food are made available. One might be forgiven for thinking that one had been subjected to a conjuration when confronted with a chickadee.

     This is going to be a picture-heavy post (I should warn you now)! We have hundreds of images of this little gem and it was difficult to resist selecting "just one more." I will try to give you a sense of the bird and its lifestyle, without getting in too deep. This is after all a recreational blog and not a biology textbook!

     It is a tiny bird, weighing a mere 14 grams or so, but 14 grams of toughness, strength, fortitude, determination and resilience.

     It is very confiding around humans and may be easily coaxed into feeding from your hand.

     I am quite confident that for many people their only contact with a wild creature (other than the family drunk) is to have a chickadee alight on their hand.

     For a child the magic is very special, and the wide eyes and contented expression of a youngster feeling the scratch of a chickadee's feet on the hand, is to warm the heart of even the gruffest of humans.

     So much of the interaction between humankind and our companions on this Earth has been destructive, always to the detriment of the "other"; this one small gesture being thereby rendered even more heartwarming.

      If Bob Cratchit had taken Ebenezer Scrooge to see Tiny Tim feed a chickadee, the plot of A Christmas Carol would have been a whole lot different.

      At our latitude, breeding takes place mid to end May. Chickadees prefer to excavate their own cavity in rotting trunks or branches but they will use nest boxes if natural cavity opportunities are in short supply. It is a good strategy to load wood shavings or even sawdust into the nest box, so that birds can perform the kind of maintenance they would do to get a hole in a tree ready for nest building.

     A typical clutch in southern Ontario, based on personal observation, is five or six eggs, but up to eight are sometimes laid when conditions for breeding are optimal.

     A pair of chickadees will sometimes use a surprising type of artificial nest site. We had been gifted a nest box in the form of a blue teakettle, expecting House Wrens (Troglodytes aedon) to use it, but a pair of chickadees quickly claimed it as their own.

     The nest was constructed exclusively by the female over a period of four days. The male, stalwart fellow that he is, stayed close by and rendered great vocal encouragement, but maintained a beak-off approach, so to speak, as is the custom for this species. The female generally rests for a day when nest construction is complete, following which she lays her eggs at one-day intervals. Incubation begins after the last egg is laid and lasts for 12-13 days.

     The following image is the first picture we took of the nestlings, probably about three days old at the time, on 26 June.

     Three days later, on 29 June, considerable development has occurred, as you may see, with feather tracts clearly visible.

     By 3 July the young are about ready to fledge.

     The female stays in the nest to keep the nestlings warm until about twelve days old when they are able to thermoregulate and no longer need the warmth of her brood patch. The male is responsible for bringing food for his mate and the developing young.

     In addition to providing food, nest sanitation is important and foecal sacs are removed so that the nest does not become soiled.

     It sounds somewhat gross to humans, but in the early days when nestling digestion is not fully functional, much nutrition remains in the "output" and the foecal sac is sometimes eaten by the parents.

     

     When not consumed it is taken some distance from the nest before being discarded to avoid leaving clues for predators as to the location of the nest.

     When the nestlings become fledglings they are clumsy flyers and spent much time perched. They have a comical appearance as natal down sticks out from their feather tracts.

     Time spent on the ground where they are exposed to a range of predators is exceptionally hazardous.

     Domestic cats left to roam by irresponsible owners are broadly implicated in fledgling chickadee mortality.

     This brood fledged in our own backyard and we did everything possible to protect them and to the best of our knowledge they all survived.

     Dutiful, hard-working parents continue to feed their young for a couple of weeks after they leave the nest. 

     During the first several days young birds display little to no efficiency in capturing prey or picking up seeds, and when they do they seem to have scant idea what to do with it.

     They do, however, excel at begging from mom and dad - does this recall teenagers in your life?

     Eventually, however, they get the hang of it and emulate their parents' skill.

     First of all find the seed.

     

     Then hold it securely under your feet and hammer it open to get to the nutritious "meat" inside.

     Once the juveniles have discovered that bird feeders are an easy and predictable source of food they do not hesitate to use them.

     There is not a shred of doubt in my mind that chickadees very quickly connect the individual who fills the feeders with the food that will magically appear. When I topped up my feeders this morning three individuals quickly appeared and one perched on the feeder to snatch a sunflower heart before I had placed in back on its hook.

     These tiny birds are not migratory and spend the winter as far north as Alaska, where at the winter solstice less than four hours of daylight is available for foraging, and the temperature at times dips to minus 50. Even here in Waterloo minus 20 is not uncommon, and even minus 30 is not unheard of.

     Just look how the bird above is fluffed to trap the warmth from its body.

     There is much to be said about strategies and adaptations for winter survival, but let me just highlight the three main adjustments.

Physical Adjustments

     Briefly the main features are subcutaneous fat and incredibly efficient insulating plumage. Birds will sometimes roost in cavities with congeners to huddle together for warmth. If you see a bird with a bent tail it is probably the result of being compressed into a hole overnight.

Physiological Adjustments

     Amazingly Black-capped Chickadees can enter regulated hypothermia thereby reducing demands on their metabolic system.

Behavioural Adjustments

     The selection of winter roost sites is critical. Roosting in holes eliminates heat lost through radiation, as does the leeward side of dense conifers, or vines and other dense shrubs. 

     In terms of winter survival I have barely scratched the surface, but I think it gives you an idea of what is needed to survive - in fact not only survive but do well - in a harsh winter.

     This has been a fairly long post and thanks if you stuck with it until the end. I am enchanted, captivated, made joyful and overwhelmed with the presence of these marvelous little birds. My life would be impoverished without them

     I hope you too share my enthusiasm and will give a thought to them on a cold winter's night. When you are sitting by your fireplace, glass of wine in hand, nibbling on cheese perhaps, warm and cozy, they are out there at thirty degrees below zero making it through the night.

     Amazing!   

Amherst Island and Ottawa

     For a couple of years, my oldest grandson, Sam, has been hankering to visit Amherst Island, but you all know what effect COVID has had on everyone's travel plans. Finally, with restrictions lifted a little we were able to make it there.

     Miriam and I travelled up to Belleville the previous afternoon to spend the night, before meeting my daughter, Caroline, son-in-law, Andrew, Sam and his girlfriend, Mel, the following day at the Amherst Island ferry. We were also joined by our friend and fellow naturalist, Wendy, who was visiting her daughter in Kingston, and took advantage of the opportunity to tag along with us to see what we could find.

5 February 2022

Amherst Island, Lennox and Addington County, ON

     Miriam and I were the very first in line at the ferry terminal and settled in to wait for the others to arrive. 

As it turned out the absence of information on the notice board should have provoked a few questions in our minds, but more about that later.

     As best I recall it was around minus 25 degrees and Canada Geese (Branta canadensis) and Mallards (Anas platyrynchos) huddled in a little open water near the dock.

Some Local Beauties

      I thought I would share with you a few of the local beauties in my life, all seen around here recently. I beg to assure you that the list is not exhaustive!

Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata)

     This common bird, is uncommonly beautiful.

     Rarely a day goes by without a Blue Jay, but they are never less welcome for their familiarity.

Waterloo Region Nature Outings, Columbia Lake, Waterloo, ON

     The latest in the series of outings I have been conducting for WRN recently saw us visit Columbia Lake. As always, there was a mid week venture for people who do not have the daily grind of a job to occupy their time, and a weekend jaunt for the benighted souls who do.

 08 December 2021

Leader: David M. Gascoigne

Members: Lynn Conway, Pauline Copleston, Lisa Den Besten, Bob Fraser, Beth Hobson, Graham Macdonald, Marg Macdonald, Geoff Moore, Rog Suffling, Judy Watson, Kathy Waybrant

Lynn, Graham, Lisa, Geoff, Marg, Rog, Pauline, Bob, Beth, Judy, Kathy

      It was a crisp minus seven degrees as our hardy group of winter warriors set out to see what birds wished to join us on our snowy promenade.

Highlights From Here and There

      This post represents a few highlights from recent walks, and events at home, with no theme other than nature is on display!

     The Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa) which provided such a stunning burst of colour when in bloom, has gone to seed, but is no less spectacular.

     Mother Nature weaves her magic tapestry in many different ways.

Outing for Waterloo Region Nature to Linear Trail and Riverside Park, Cambridge, ON

The latest in the series of outings conducted for Waterloo Region Nature saw us visit two local birding hotspots in Cambridge, ON

10 November 2021

Linear Trail, Cambridge, ON

Leader: David M. Gascoigne

Members: Miriam Bauman, Lynn Conway, Lisa DenBesten, Bob Fraser, Karl Malhotra, Curtiss MacDonald

Lynn, Miriam, Bob, Curtiss, Lisa, Karl

 

 

Backyard Highlights

      Our backyard is always a source of activity, but at this time of year the pace picks up considerably.

     This robust and very handsome House Finch (Haemorhous mexicanus) is a lucky fellow for he is often accompanied by three females. 

     They should be paired off and nesting by now, but this Lothario thinks perhaps that a seraglio is preferable to the demands of raising kids. And who can quarrel with that?

     We have had this kettle, fashioned as a nest box, for several years, and in the past a family of Black-capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) was raised in it. So, when Miriam spotted a pair investigating it anew, we were elated to think that we might once again be hosts to a brood of delightful chickadees.

     Outside and inside they checked.

     All was cleaned and dusted, spick and span, with just a couple of wood chips in there to mimic a natural cavity, exactly as we had done previously.

     But for whatever reason, it seems not to meet with their approval, for there has not been a repeat visit. And to think that food is always close at hand, with water to splash in - what more could they ask for?

     There are even fresh maple buds to snack on.

     We have three nest boxes out there waiting for occupancy and so far they have all been spurned. House Wrens (Troglodytes aedon) should be returning to southern Ontario any day now, so we still hold out hope.

     A male Brown-headed Cowbird (Molothrus ater) is an exceedingly handsome bird, whose most urgent goal in the spring of the year is to inseminate as many females as possible, so that eggs can be laid in the nests of unwitting hosts. 

     None of the chores of child-rearing are in the cards for this species.

     It is interesting perhaps to contemplate the host/guest arrangement for brood parasitic species, and to ponder that hospitality and hostility, both exhibited by host species, have the same etymological root. 

     The important thing is not to be anthropomorphic about it, and to accept that this breeding system is as much a part of the natural cycle as any other. Rejoice in diversity. Don't condemn it.

     American Goldfinches (Spinus tristis) are with us all year, and by now have achieved the complete splendour of their breeding attire. Witness this striking male.

     Who among us ever looked so good?

     The other day on television I saw images of shambling old celibates shuffling about their palace, wallowing in the gilded excesses of the Vatican; how they pale by comparison to a Northern Cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) who lives a life without ever resorting to moral equivocation.

     Leucism is a term that seems to have fallen into disfavour of late, as not quite accurately describing the condition achieved when a genetic mutation prevents melanin from being deposited in tracts of plumage. I recently read a bit of a diatribe from a biologist who advocated abandoning the term altogether, but it seems to me that leucism is sufficiently well understood that it remains an adequate definition of the condition.

     An American Robin (Turdus migratorius) presenting this abnormality visits us daily.

     Pine Siskins (Spinus pinus) are still taking advantage of our feeders, but I suspect that they will soon leave us and we will not see them again until the winter.

     White-throated Sparrow (Zonotrichia albicollis) is a very welcome visitor to our backyard.

     It is among the very handsomest of sparrows and is equipped with one of the most evocative songs in all the world of birds.

     Several individuals have seen fit to pay us a visit this spring.

     Infrequently, but regularly, White-throated Sparrows pair with Dark-eyed Juncos (Junco hyemalis), resulting in Dark-eyed Junco x White-throated Sparrow hybrids.

     My good friend, Paul Bigelow, sent me some pictures taken by his wife, Pat, of this manifestation in their yard.

     You have the pure White-throated Sparrow above and the Dark-eyed Junco below, and you can clearly observe patterns of both in this bird.

     Kudos are due to Paul and Pat for spotting the bird and permitting me to use their pictures. 

     A female House Finch appears not to have paired up at all - and the season is moving on!

     Dark-eyed Juncos are lingering still, taking advantage of plentiful food no doubt, but any day now the last one will have left, and we will not see them again until the fall.

     We wish them well on their journey and hope that they send many youngsters south to visit us later in the year.

     This brief post serves to illustrate how fortunate we are to enjoy a backyard during COVID. I expect to bring you more delights soon. Until then, stay safe and get vaccinated as soon as you can!