Birds | wordsfromanneli

March 24, 2022
by wordsfromanneli 32 Comments

Caviar, anyone?

This Vancouver Island beach is very popular at this time of year. The western gulls flock here literally by the thousands.

What’s the attraction?

It’s not exactly a pretty, touristy beach of white sand.

But the gulls know what they’re after.

Lunch is being served. The gull in the top left of the photo below has a beak full of caviar.

It’s herring time and the roe is all over the beach. Gourmet dining at its finest.

A word to the wise: if you are walking this stretch of beach at herring time, it might be a good idea to bring an umbrella even if it’s not raining. When the gulls get riled up and are wheeling overhead, some of them can’t always contain their excitement. Best to have that umbrella ready.

March 16, 2022
by wordsfromanneli 24 Comments

Quentin’s Return

I may have mentioned that a few years ago we had so many quail here, they crossed our yard like a living carpet of quail, forty or more.

As more houses were built, cats and dogs and people have disrupted the quail’s natural habitat, and the fate of the quail population was doomed. In a few short years the quail died off. One lone survivor has hung on, all alone for at least three years.

You may have met Quentin Quail in one of my previous blog posts. https://wordsfromanneli.com/2021/04/11/quentin-quail/

He still is the loneliest quail I’ve ever seen. I thought for sure this past cold winter would have killed him, but even after deadly cold blizzards and bone-chilling north winds, he has survived.

As usual, he is looking for the friend he thinks he sees in the window by our front door. Even with the glass so dirty from the weather and from Emma’s nose prints, he must see his reflection in it and think it is another quail. My heart breaks for him.

“I just don’t understand why she won’t come out to play.”

I really hope Quentin is careful. These past couple of days I’ve noticed what I think is a merlin hanging around. I tried to get a picture of it today, but it flew to a nearby pole and the picture is not as good as I’d like it to be. But here he is, the potential quail killer.

I hope he finds a mouse or a rat to eat instead.

March 13, 2022
by wordsfromanneli 31 Comments

Over- and Underachievers

Seems that when spring is near, the increased daylight hours spark something in chickens that gets them laying more. Some of the younger birds lay tiny eggs, and then they skip a day and lay a double-sized egg (usually with a double yolk). It takes a while to get it all sorted out and they start laying regular-sized eggs.

The people who own the free-range chickens where we get our eggs have a contented flock of hens. These chickens have the run of the yard and the family’s big black labrador retriever keeps an eye on them. The dog and the hens are good friends. She wouldn’t dream of harassing the chickens.

It’s a happy farmyard.

Some of the hens lay green eggs; others lay brown ones. At this time of year, the size difference in the eggs can be dramatic.

I’ve tried to arrange them so you can compare the sizes. One green egg and three brown ones are huge (I felt sorry for the hen’s bum). I put a normal-size egg next to the big ones for comparison, and then there is a small … very small … brown egg.

You may wonder what the speckled egg is all about. It is a quail egg – one that I’ve had for years and is blown out. Remember in the old days when we painted Easter eggs and put a pinhole in the top and the bottom of the egg? We blew on the one pinhole and the contents of the egg came pouring out of the other. Then the shell could be preserved without a rotting egg inside.

I put that quail egg beside the small chicken egg so you can see how tiny they are.

And that reminds me. I had a very special visitor yesterday. In my next blog I’ll tell you about it.

February 25, 2022
by wordsfromanneli 46 Comments

The Messy Eater

Hmm, that looks like something tasty. Think I’ll fly on down for a bite of lunch.

Good thing I spotted this raccoon carcass. Tastes not bad.

Oh, darn. I got a spot of blood on my shirt.

Hmpf! I just know the Missus will be annoyed. Oh well, it was worth it.

February 11, 2022
by wordsfromanneli 45 Comments

Music for Valentine’s Day

“Sweetheart, I adore you. Give us a kiss.”

Oooh! She’s closing her eyes. I think it’s working.

“Come here, Bud,” she chirps.

Oooh! She’s whispering in my ear.

“What’s that, Biddy? You want me to sing you a love song?”

Sheesh! She sure is high maintenance. But my little Biddy is almost ready to say “yes.”

“Would you like me to play something … er … like accompany you on the pigiano?” asks Porky.

“Okay, here goes! … Hmm … It doesn’t seem to be working.”

“I have to what? Open the lid?” Oops! “Of course! I knew that! I was just about to do that…. Hmm … I can’t seem to remember any songs.”

“Well, thanks for turning on the Budlight — I mean the light, Bud — and finding some music, but, ah … well … the truth is … no glasses.

No matter. Can’t read music.

Anyway, this doesn’t look like a love song.”

“Hey, Porky! Would you like us to accompany you? We’ve got a guitar, cymbals, and maracas. Come on. Let’s play. Just ignore that naked Cuban lady dancing behind us.”

“And we can help too. We’re the Mainzelmaennchen of German television ads fame. Let us show you. From left to right, you can see that we play natural instruments: the pot and wooden spoon, the coffee mill, the whistling kettle, the comb, the all-purpose whisk-like wooden spoon, and the pot-lid cymbals (watch your nose there, Fritz).”

“Aw-right!” says Porky. “Let’s jam! And please ask our audience to put their donations into that slot in my head. I’m banking on that.

A-one, a-two, a-three, a-four.”

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.

February 2, 2022
by wordsfromanneli 41 Comments

Happy Hummers

Hills bedecked in powdered rain.

Will we see green trees again?

Chilly mist drifts overhead,

Cools the hibernator’s bed.

Yet the valley down below,

Barely shows a hint of snow,

Filbert trees are flowering,

Wimpy folks still cowering.

Filbert flowers dangle plain,

Golden curtain, golden mane.

Hiding hummers, sheltered perch,

Safe from predators who search.

In the open on this twig,

In the sun I dance a jig,

Happy to be warm out here,

Catching rays of light so dear.

In the shade, my throat is brown,

Wait until I turn around,

I’m like lady hot pants pink,

Pretty special, don’t you think?

Bright pink plumage, yes that’s me,

Now I’m quite a catch, you see.

Don’t believe me? Yes, it’s true,

Sure as I can look at you.

February 1, 2022
by wordsfromanneli 36 Comments

What’s Under There?

Photo courtesy of Pat Gerrie.

No, that is not a frozen lake beyond the tree line. It’s the northern end of the Okanagan Valley, seen from Silver Star Mountain Resort.

Imagine life going on under that massive fog in the valley. People are trying to drive to and from town, to buy groceries, fill the car with gas, visit with friends, pick up kids from school. They’re feeling their way through the fog, trying not to drive into the lake beside the highway. Doom and gloom, like being half blind when you’re right down there in it. Grope, grope.

And here is the fog over the Comox Valley. Below this fog is the salt water. Only boats are groping their way from A to B. Under this fog, the sea lions chase salmon while the salmon chase herring.

Eagles hover over unsuspecting loons, or scoters, or ducks, looking for a sickly one – perhaps one who had a hard time finding food during that last cold spell. They wait for a break in the fog to spy their lunch. Or, they might fly over unsuspecting birds who don’t expect an attacker from the mist.

The fog is scheduled to lift now that a new southeast system is moving in, but it seems that in a surprise about-face, the wind is forecast to bring us one more day of northern air and blow some snow flurries on us – just for a few minutes tomorrow.

Icy fog

Droplets of drizzle,

Freeze my dog,

Muzzle of grizzle.

Blind and down,

My spirits are low,

Fog brings a frown,

Wish it would go.

Southeaster blows,

Fog drifts away,

Maybe it snows,

But just for a day.

January 24, 2022
by wordsfromanneli 33 Comments

Bullock’s Oriole

The winter has been too long so I dug out some old photos. The quality is not good on these pictures, but the happiness scale was registering right up there, so I’m posting the photos anyway. Reminiscing about this bird sighting still makes me smile.

It was back in the summer of 2016. I heard him before I saw him. He was a bit too far away for a clear picture, but I was afraid I might not get another chance, so I snapped it quickly.

He sat high up in a fir tree. With his unusual song and bright colours, he was unforgettable. If only he would stay put long enough for me to get a picture.

The Bullock’s oriole is not a bird you often see in our area of central Vancouver Island.

I prowled around the deck, camera in hand, searching the trees for movement and sound as he flitted from one fir to another.

I phoned my neighbour, who loves birds too, to ask her to watch for the oriole as it had gone over to the trees on her place. I almost threw the phone down when I saw that it had come back to check out my red hot pokers.

I didn’t dare run out onto the deck this time and scare it away, so unfortunately this photo is taken through the smudgy glass pane of the railing.

Oh, he was nervous. A second later, he was gone.

But now that Big Bird was gone, the tiny ones returned to their favourite snack.

I tried to get him to slow down as I didn’t have the camera set up for super-high speed for hummingbird wingbeats (does the camera setting even go that high?) but he wasn’t to be held back.

With the Spanish lavender so prolific right behind him, you would think he’d go for that, but he preferred the pokers. I know the bees love the lavender so maybe that had something to do with it.

I didn’t get much work done that morning. The time spent was “for the birds.”

So today on this cool, foggy day, I reminded myself that winter doesn’t last forever, and we have good things to look forward to.