It’s spring and as usual I am paying close attention to the birds experiencing homelessness around here, and doing what I can. Thing about the homeless is, you can build them nice stout shelter but it doesn’t mean they’re going to use it. They’ll just hang onto their skeezy little holes in a snag somewhere and poop all over things.
We’ve done okay in the past. The little box Dave built that our chickadees Marge and Studley Windowson occupied had always attracted someone, either a Windowson or a facsimile, or, one year, a star-crossed nuthatch pair that bollixed things up nine ways to Sunday. But it was an attractive box. It was mounted mere inches from our window. Even after the big cascara tree that shaded it fell down, birds took over the lease. But I don’t think they did all that well. There was no camouflage anymore, they were right out in the open, and it might have gotten too hot. I took it down, along with Studley’s last abandoned nest.
Meanwhile, I stuck a little red house in the Styrax tree and nabbed some nuthatches right away, who smeared the front of it with sticky sap and made a mess and a nest and then abandoned it.
The next year I put the little red house on a tall upright where we could observe it from the patio, and some chickadees built a nest and put some eggs in it, but crows could also observe it from a point about two inches above the entry hole, and the chickadees got the hell out of Dodge. I can’t blame them. In fact my entire new friendship with crows has probably ruined my reputation with the rest of the songbirds. Don’t tell me they’re not paying attention: I know better.
Then I got the bright idea of putting a really good box up in the eaves under the front porch, where we could sit and watch—that’s a theme—and I thought that would work out well because any number of birds will nest in your hat if you hang it by the front door. I got a really nice nest box from a local craftsman with all the right dimensions and an easy clean-out, but I hung it up last year in April, and nobody was interested.
I’d already observed that my birds were scouting out territory as early as February and generally had something picked out by the end of March, even if they didn’t start stitching the mattress together. I figured they hadn’t had enough time to fully appreciate the nice new box. So I left it up all winter.
Meanwhile, this spring I relocated the little red box to the Styrax again, but this time higher up and closer to the trunk. Two chickadees were checking it out within the hour. I was thrilled.
Which brings us to now. The porch box is the best nest box for a mile and nobody has so much as poked a beak in it. I KNOW they can see it. Studley could spot a mealworm from a block away. Birds are hanging out in the wisteria on the porch all the time. I hung up a fat blob of Dave’s beard hair nearby—who could resist?
Pretty much everybody. The red-box chickadees haven’t come back after their initial investigation and I’ve seen zero activity in the new box. I’ll probably just have to donate money to some do-gooder organization like Audubon and leave the direct action to others. It’s what I do.
Your place is always so welcoming for the birds. And sometimes they all of a sudden take interest in a box that has just been hanging out for a couple years. The most beautiful birdhouse I ever had was a big peaked affair (the inner box and hole were the right size) made by a woodworker in the Southern Highland Craft Guild. A little red squirrel was so enamored he spent several weeks chewing the hole larger and generations of them have been in there since. But you know my favorites. Wool felt. Durable, cool yet warm, water resistant, artistic. My fiber arts students were always surprised that they were making something that was so highly functional. Here at the new house, a lovely pair of wrens have settled right in.
See, I was wondering about that. My admiration for felt knows no bounds. But I couldn’t have imagined it would be so durable outside. Do you take it in for the winter?
Nope. If generations of Mongolians find it home worthy, it’s also suitable for the birds. You just have to put some muscle into felting the wool. I’ll make you one, promise.
Wow! I should be able to make my own–I’ve got the stuff–but not the round tuit!
Here in the Land of Few Trees, we have loads of Starlings (pre-Shakespeare native ones, sorry America) who of necessity appreciate a dry stone wall. Every year, there’s also always a few vehicles which have their engine bays stuffed with straw in the same amount of time as it takes to say “What’s that Starling doing?!” If you don’t check before you drive off, that kindling doesn’t take long to catch fire. Last weekend, we went to visit family and assumed they were out as their car wasn’t parked out front. We wandered indoors and were told that the car was parked a couple of hundred yards away in the hope that the Starlings would forget about it. I laughed, then turned to look out of the window and saw a gang of Starlings already checking out the wheel arches, front grill and underneath MY car 😲
Just the thing! Park starling decoy cars!
My neighbors put up an owl box because we knew there was a pair of barred owls in the trees behind our houses. It took only a couple of days before they moved in. My neighbor is a professional photographer with a great camera and we are having fun watching the activity.
This is the coolest time of year–new bird manufacturing season.
I’ve never put up nest boxes, just feeders and watering stations. Had to stop feeding because it was attracting rats. Still getting a lot of traffic at the watering stations. As the temps go up, the birds seem to be bathing more than drinking.
True enough, but my crow buddies can sure crap out a bird bath in a hurry. They bring their sandwiches in there to soak.
Do the crows come back for the sandwiches? And where do they get them?
I tried to lure crows with meaty bones but they must not visit my area much. And I found that the bones brought in rats. So that was the end of that.
The one bath is so popular that when the weather is warm the birds will splash out all the water.
I feed them the sandwiches Dave doesn’t finish. They like the salami and the cheese but take out the peperoncinis.
We have LOTS of trees, and a stockade fence around our yard. Around the perimeter, we have a dozen nest boxes on long poles. They usually have been filled to 100% capacity when we clean them at the end of the season. But. They have all been filled by house sparrows and wrens. We DO have other birds like chickadees, titmice, nuthatches, and the like. I don’t know where they nest, but it’s not in the boxes. Since the poles are so high up, we couldn’t clear out these birds anyway, but as long as we have birds, we’re not averse to the so-called “junk birds.” Each box is within view of one window or another. I admire their tenacity and dedication to feeding their young. I see the ones outside my kitchen window at dawn, chirping and taking their turns at standing guard and feeding. The male watches me as I go about my morning routine. They are still going at it at dusk. We have feeders going, and go through a LOT more seed than we do in the winter. The adults feed their young the good stuff: bugs, rich in protein. The adults go to the feeders (their version of fast food.) I love watching them, and feel fortunate to have so much wildlife in our suburban neighborhood that borders on the city. We even have groundhogs living under our firewood pallets, occasional foxes, skunks (I don’t see them, but I smell them), and opossums. Our yard is a designated “backyard wildlife habitat.” Which is another way of saying, it’s untidy as hell. But it’s for the animals, not the neighbors.
We here are skunked on skunks and foxes but possums and raccoons are around, and rabbits just moved in a few years ago. Oh, and coyotes of course.
I wonder if nuthatches actually build a few prototypes before they settle down? We had a pair build in our dryer vent. We actually temp-piped the dryer back into the house for them, but then they moved on, the ungrateful wretches. Now I’m thinking maybe they break hearts all over town.
Males will excavate more than one hole in hopes a female will like one of them. I don’t know if you read my posts about the Nuthatch Fiasco of 2016. Broke my heart for sure: https://www.murrbrewster.com/uncategorized/the-edge-of-flight/
And: https://www.murrbrewster.com/uncategorized/the-edge-of-flight-part-2/
Murr, your frustration with the porch box and the red box remaining vacant is so very reminiscent of selling real estate in a slow market! Just be glad that your livelihood isn’t dependent on it!
I am glad my livelihood doesn’t even exist! Wait a minute–is there EVER a downturn in D.C. real estate?
I’m so excited after years of wary watchfulness, my local crows have decided I am to be (kinda) trusted. They have been examining the vittles and sampling. It was the peanuts that got ’em.
I’ve gotten my crows (three of them) to come within two or three feet of me for a peanut, plus they swoop at my head in a friendly way (but I can feel the wingwash) when I go for a walk, and if I don’t produce, they walk beside me for a block.
We’re at our cabin in the Adirondacks for the first time this year and I’m happy to be hearing all the usual birds that we don’t get in semi-urban New Jersey. Wood Thrush, Scarlet Tanager, and more. But the most faithful of all are the Phoebes, which nest every year under the cabin’s eaves in one of two places. This year they’re above my bedroom window so when the babies hatch the mama and papa will be coming and going feeding them and I can watch in the morning. One year they decided to build a new nest and made muddy blobs all over the windows on the other side of the cabin until they decided on the door to the shed. So last year we couldn’t use our shed all summer because the nest was on the crack of the door so it couldn’t open! I was happy to see they are back to this old nest under the eaves this year.