Last week Chris Saladin captured these action shots of two red-headed woodpeckers in a protracted fight at Sandy Ridge Reservation. The immature woodpecker, still clad in gray, seems to have the upper hand. What’s the deal here? Why are they fighting?
All woodpeckers chase to maintain their territories but red-headed woodpeckers take fighting to an extreme. During the breeding season they’re aggressive to everyone, especially the cavity-nesters. They persecute northern flickers, red-bellied and downy woodpeckers. If a starling dares to take a red-headed’s nest hole the woodpecker fights — and wins. Even the pileated woodpecker defers to this bird.
Red-headed woodpeckers are especially aggressive toward each other and are solitary in winter because they fight so much. Each one establishes a winter territory where he gathers and stores acorns for his personal use. All other red-heads — male, female and immature — must stay away!
Perhaps the immature showed up on migration and is hoping to claim the Sandy Ridge wetland. The adult is having none of it!
Above, he makes the bark fly as he bounces off the dead tree. Below, he’s quick to get out of the way as the immature zooms in!
And here they’re airborne in foot-to-foot combat!
Apparently they can’t stand the sight of each other.
Will they ever stop? Finally the immature pauses so we can see him at rest.
Early this month Beth Lawry asked about the noisy flocks of songbirds now congregating in the Pittsburgh area. She wrote, “I am seeing strings of them along the signs on the Parkway –- sometimes 50+.” And on the wires.
Flocking has helped them survive and thrive in North America. In flocks they have:
Better foraging success: Individual starlings get more to eat when they can see their flock mates eating (Fernandez-Juricic, 2005). They watch each other as they methodically walk across my yard eating grubs.
Reduced predation: In flocks they have statistical safety in numbers, more look-out birds to warn of danger, and the ability to hide within the flock when they’re under attack as shown in this video of starlings evading a peregrine falcon in Torino, Italy.
Thermoregulation at the roost: Starlings hang out with each other all day and then gather into huge roosts at night where they huddle to stay warm. At very large roosts they swarm at dusk, as seen in this amazing video from Ireland.
And they are noisy. They mimic other birds (poorly) and make wiry sounds and wolf whistles. Click here to hear.
The starling flocks we see this month are only a hint at what we’ll see by the end of the year. More starlings are on their way. Those who live in the northern part of their range fly south for the winter. Those who live south of 40oN latitude do not.
Guess where Pittsburgh is. 40oN. We’re probably a starling hotspot because our local birds stay put and the northern crowd joins them.
By the end of December we usually have 6,000 starlings(*).
Thousands of birds on the wires.
(photo from Wikimedia Commons. Click on the image to see the original. Today’s Tenth Page is inspired by page 320 of Ornithology by Frank B. Gill.)
Right now they’re spending a lot of time caching conifer seeds to last them through the winter. All summer long they ate arboreal arthropods (insects in trees) but now they’re switching to seeds, hiding them under bark or in sapsucker holes, covering the opening with lichen or plant matter. If there aren’t enough cones they move south, as so many did last winter.
Though they depend on cone-bearing trees for food, red-breasted nuthatches prefer to nest in dead or dying birches or aspens whose trunk is softened by disease or rot. They often pick a birch with a broken top. The lady digs the nest hole while her mate watches and brings her food. She throws sawdust out of the hole leaving a telltale pile below the nest. I’ve never seen this because I’m never in Maine during nesting season.
If I came here in the spring — or spent time watching the few red-breasted nuthatches who nest near Pittsburgh — I would see this amazing nesting habit: To protect their eggs and nestlings they collect pine sap on the tips of their bills or on a little piece of bark, then smear it around the opening of the nest. The male smears sap on the outside, the female smears it on the inside. Experiments have shown this sticky mess keeps away both predators and competitors.
Adult nuthatches are very skillful at zooming straight into the nest without touching the sides — those who don’t are eliminated from the gene pool — so how do the nestlings fledge without getting stuck? According to Birds of North America Online, parent nuthatches place small clumps of fur on the sticky inner nest rim on the day of fledging.
They make a stick-free launch zone for the kids to leave the sappy nest.
And finally, some birds actually raise their body temperature. This is amazing! If your body temperature is warmer than the air you lose heat. Hyperthermia can lead to heat exhaustion or death but some desert birds can raise their body temperatures in a controlled fashion to keep themselves cool. Ostriches raise their body temperatures 4.2o C (7.5o F) every day. This saves water because they don’t lose any to cool off.
The weather forecast says today is the last of the unbearable heat before thunderstorms usher in a cold front. I sure hope so!
In the meantime don’t be surprised to see birds with their mouths open. They pant even when they fly.
The SheiKra roller coaster in Busch Gardens Tampa amusement park dives 200 feet at 70 miles an hour. In the photo above, the sloped run takes the cars up. The dive section is so vertical you could mistake it for a support strut. Yow!
The coaster was named for the shikra (Accipiter badius), a hawk of Asia and Africa, because the hawk will dive vertically to capture prey.
Though the solstice was more than three weeks ago the sun still hasn’t set in the Arctic. Some arctic animals have no circadian rhythm because there’s no light/dark cycle. What do the birds do?
The Max Planck Institute of Ornithology studied four species that nest near Barrow, Alaska. What they found is that some stayed on a 24-hour clock while others had no daily pattern. Their circadian rhythms varied based on lifestyle, sex and breeding stage. Here are the four they studied:
Semi-palmated sandpipers are totally monogamous and share incubation and child rearing.
Pectoral sandpiper males have multiple wives. Only the females incubate and take care of the kids.
Red phalaropes reverse these roles. The females have multiple husbands. Only males incubate and raise the kids.
Lapland longspurs are monogamous with the occasional male having multiple mates. Both parents take care of the kids but only the female incubates.
During the courtship period the shorebirds showed no daily pattern while the lapland longspurs simplified their lives by never giving up their 24-hour clock.
Incubation changed the shorebirds’ clocks. In summertime the ground temperature in Barrow varies daily from near freezing (11:00pm to 7:00am) to 60 degrees F (noon to 6:00pm). As soon as incubation began the incubating parents — pectoral sandpiper females and red phalarope males — began to follow a daily clock so they’d be on the nest when it’s cold.
The exception were the semi-palmated sandpipers. Because they completely share parental duties they threw out the clock when incubation began and synched as couples. “Who cares what time it is. We have each other.”
Meanwhile the pectoral sandpiper males and red phalarope females never stopped courting so they never developed a daily rhythm.
In the end the study shows that arctic-nesting birds are very flexible. They can be active regardless of time of day, then alter their circadian clocks when their needs change.
Those needs will change soon. The sun will set for the first time on August 1 and the birds will prepare to leave. For some shorebirds, migration has already begun.
“Birds are classically among the most monogamous of all organisms,” writes Frank B. Gill in Ornithology.
Many birds mate for life. Swans and geese, parrots and eagles, albatrosses and even pigeons choose a mate once and for all. Among those species divorce is rare. That’s why a Bewick’s swan couple caused a stir when they arrived on their wintering grounds in 2009, apparently divorced and remarried. They were the only Bewick’s swans known to do it in 40 years.
Do other monogamous birds ever divorce? Is it typical behavior that we hadn’t noticed?
In 2000, Scott M. Ramsay and his team published an eight year study of black-capped chickadee social life. Using bird bands and DNA testing they discovered that young females who have low confidence in their mates initiate divorce after their first breeding season and remarry on a more permanent basis for their second year of motherhood. The team even found out why.
When black-capped chickadees pair up the males sing to maintain their territories and the females listen to determine who’s strongest. When a first-year female hears her mate fail she remains with him but mates with other males as well, producing a clutch of mixed paternity. She and her husband incubate and raise the nestlings but before the next breeding season she files for divorce and marries someone of higher social rank.
The study found that the ladies who “messed around” were the ones most likely to divorce.
Every year around the Fourth of July people use our neighborhood park to try out illegal fireworks. (In Pennsylvania everything except sparklers, “novelties,” and toycaps are illegal without a permit.)
Last Sunday we jumped out of our skins when someone exploded a minute’s worth of “M-80″ salutes across the street. After our hearts stopped racing and our cat emerged from under the bed I wondered…
What do birds think of fireworks?
I can guess based on our own reactions, but here are some scientific studies.
In the Netherlands where fireworks are popular on New Years’ Eve, the University of Amsterdam uses weather radar to track birds’ reactions when civilians celebrate at midnight. On the radar here you can see thousands of birds fleeing en masse for 45 minutes. The birds most affected are ducks and geese overwintering at quiet wetlands. I suspect they are doubly susceptible because they aren’t habituated to human noise and they flee the sound of gunfire because they are hunted.
On the U.S. Pacific Coast a few towns have changed their fireworks venues to protect nesting seabird colonies. When fireworks are too close the adults flee the cliffs exposing their young to cold or predation, or the young jump off the cliffs before they can fly.
At Depoe Bay, Oregon the fireworks display used to be held a mile north of town in a state park on a high cliff overlooking the ocean. The site is part of Oregon Islands National Wildlife Refuge and has a large nesting colony of Brandt’s cormorants. After July 4, 2011 and years of fireworks-induced nest failure the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service began talking with municipal leaders about moving the venue. USFW did a study showing significant nest failure and provided an alternate seaside location only a seven minute drive from town. Most towns understand and accommodate. Depoe Bay became famous for canceling and complaining.
So what do birds do about fireworks? It depends. Some flee. Some hunker down. Others are tolerant if the noise isn’t too close. In any case the disturbance is temporary.
It’s pretty much our pets’ reaction too.
(photo from Wikimedia Commons. Click on the image to see the original)
In the arctic where day and night last for months a circadian rhythm would be annoying if not a handicap. Since “day” has no meaning, arctic reindeer solved the problem by turning off their internal 24-hour clocks.
In mammals the circadian rhythm causes melatonin levels to rise at night and fall during the day. This happens whether or not the sun gives us a cue.
Scientists studying reindeer in Norway (Rangifer tarandus, the same species as caribou) found that they have no rhythmic melatonin cycle. Instead their melatonin rises or falls abruptly in response to light. On or off. No daily clock.
Reindeer need to know the time of year so they can synchronize migration and breeding, but this is easy to do at the equinox when the sun rises and sets.
On Svalbard where this reindeer lives, the sun rose on April 16 and won’t set until August 27.
No wonder he doesn’t care what time it is. Some days I wish I didn’t care either.