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Bluebirding Memories (Part 2)From: "ke4fej1" ke4fej1"at"email.msn.com Hi All, I'm back and in one piece. But, "I" am not eating bread and water tonight. All I had was my cereal this morning, and I did not get to eat until 7:30 tonight. So much was happening just no time. Adding MRI's to my BB supplies next time. Today I contacted the Avon Park Bombing Range in Central FL. Yes, they had a Bluebird Trail and said come on over and they would call the person who took care of the trail. This is about 85 miles away from Sarasota, FL. The area has many things happening in it. There is a Prison, and a Youthful Offender Lockup, Military Base, and Campgrounds, and offers Fishing, Hunting and Bluebirds! At first the Ranger could not find the phone number of the
BB Monitor but, I would not give up/leave. Once found and called,
Willie and his wife I listened to the people coming in, they had to be told about the release of liability they had to sign. Because this was a bombing range they told everyone not to touch the bombs which could possibly be found. Now that added a bit of excitement...Bluebirds and Bombs! I also listened to the tails of being lost in certain areas for hours. But they told me the helicopters would come looking. After all it was a Military Base too. As I studied the roads I thought of my adventure of a few weeks ago, but this looked like it could be worse. But with the BB Monitors coming I was to ride with them in a Base truck and I was covered by being with them because this was a learning situation. With the worry of me getting me lost...again, I was glad I was to be driven around. Willie and Kackie work as a team and monitor the 62 miles of BB Trails now in two days time. Taking two days because of the heat. I was taken to the BB Memorial to the man who started the trail in 1990. To get to the monument we had a special clearance to travel along the base airfield and to cross over the airfield. A base ranger was in his truck ahead of us. This part of the property is off limits to others because it is in lockdown because of the War and the Yellow alert terror rating, we are in now. Never would I think I would be being escorted through a Military base and across a runway! Especially during a military lockdown alert situation. They were very serious. Finally we reach box #1 and the Memorial a 10x10' roofed area with 3 ..4 x2 foot photos of BB's and the man who started the trail. In 1972 Boy Scouts had put up 20 boxes which have been all changed out from top opening to front opening "Finch" made boxes. From there we inspected boxes that held eggs and small birds. At one time as we drove, I thought we would have BBs all over the windshield they were so thick! They have many miles of paved roads, and then we also traveled down hard packed dirt. We did not go to any of the remote areas. If I had tried to find box #1 myself, I would surely still be there driving around! I have never seen so much open property with roads going everywhere. The Ranger at the front desk said all people have to turn in a Permit to show that they have left and if the Permit is not turned in they then start looking for you. BUT...they don't look until Monday afternoon and that could be from Thursday. When they are bombing...all types of weapons, no one is allowed in the area. Have we been hearing about noise and BB's? Hmmmm.... They also have different programs going on. Like using lasers and the monitors have their own special goggles to use. Plus they have to tell by radio every time they leave a numbered area, and on some days an area could be off limits. Gee, they had some odd bird deaths, I just thought, I wonder if the lasers could be harming the birds? The 101 boxes on the property have fledged over 550 birds so far this year, and still have 50 eggs and 38 birds at this time. The Prisoners made all the predator guards and the poles came from old piping from overhead watering of orange groves. See, today was very uneventful, didn't have trouble getting through the Prison Guards, didn't get lost and didn't find any Bombs...this time. Half the weekend is gone.... From: "ke4fej1" ke4fej1"at"email.msn.com Hi All, Sunday is about over and another great BB day! I finished putting together another box with the predator guard. I am getting the hang of an electric drill. And didn't hurt myself...but I realized I could and I don't want to have to tell you that story. Today I drove 30 miles down to Venice, FL, and to a co-worker's property of 33 acres. I showed her the Stokes video. Again this is an individual who does not believe she has ever seen a BB. I then showed her the Bluebird Monitor book and explained many things of interest about BBs. I showed her Joe Huber's photo and told her they both live in the same town. We have an expert in our back yard! Even if we don't have Bluebirds. We then drove around the property to check out possible box areas. She does not believe she has HOSPs, but does have the Wrens. She also has the woodpeckers from Peliated to the smallest, and also the largest owls to the tiny ones. She also has seen in the past, a few times, the Florida Panther walking down her driveway. She also has bobcats, and has seen deer with the rack on. Now all that lives on the property is a very big bull. The bull is kept in a 25 acres field which we drove into in my RED CRV. She said it does like to charge but will stop. But then she did realize ...once I was well into the field ...oh, my car was red! The bull stood up, but stayed across the pond looking at us. And all I could think was how do I tell y'all that my car was attacked by a bull. Oh well, I was well in the field and stopped. We put up her first box by the pond on a hill. Remember hill in FL to us means a pile of dirt. And in this case it was the dirt taken out to make the pond. I used this area because it was in the widest open area. I thought perhaps a BB flying over might think...what is that down there! Also I wanted it away from an area the bush hog mowers would leave alone and also where the bull would not want to stand and lean on the pole. I guess we will find out. I do have to look again as to where is the closest tree for the fledging. The box and predator guard look great and our first Venice Monitor, also a Kristie, was very impressed with the setup. With photos taken away I drove through the field. The field right now is in need of cutting. That was the first time I have ever done off road driving. Gee, I could do one of those commercials you see on TV for CRVs. I think a Bluebird theme could work for them. Next week I hope to take both Kristie and Kelly their other 4 boxes and get them set up. As for me, at my home, at my feeder I have one squirrel one rabbit and a HOSP. Just got an e-mail.....that one of y'all will be heading my way, and wants to stop and say, "Hello" and hear what is going on. That is great. If we can't see BBs we can talk about them! That will be neat to see some of you ...Bluebird Buddies. Later, Christy Sarasota, FL From: "JEANIE HOBBS" jeanie851"at"alltel.net Greetings to all! Over the years I have been fortunate enough to witness many wonderful sights and sounds in the BB world... I have rescued babies the second year (not knowing they would build a nest on top of the last nest) that fell out and then watched them as they learned to fly the 10' from the nest to the redbud tree to the dogwood tree and back to the nest ... all made a triangle.... their clumsy first efforts were hilarious! I've watched as the "teenagers" were put to work feeding the second clutch and one of the teens was a bit mischievous... by teasing the babies without even a worm in his mouth! One of the most extraordinary summers... was when I had a "teen" that would come early in the morning to my son's window and hang on it and chirp LOUDLY from early until it was dusk... when mom would call and call and finally have to come and force him home! The young bird did this DAILY! I started opening the window...and to my surprise he would come and sit on the window sill INSIDE and watch me and chirp! I put water and food for him there... It was the MOST amazing summer! I only really realized how fortunate I am to have these lovely birds around year round when I started hearing each of you and looking up on the web different information..... I live in Arkansas and these birds live here year round. This is where the birds come for the winter! Every year about January... it's like a family reunion around the original BB box.... and I can only image what they are saying! .... I image they are picking who is the lucky one to get the "homeplace" for this year!..... Have a great week everyone! From: "ke4fej1" ke4fej1"at"email.msn.com Hi All, I just wanted to pass along some interesting info. You might remember my little problem of the encounter with the barbed wire as I crawled through a fence. Well, I just received the bill. How much would you think a Tetanus shot would cost these days? If I had been accepted at the Health Department, but which they wanted me to come back 4 days later. But my Doctors wanted me to get it within 24 hours. So I had to go to the Emergency Room. Remember there is a shortage of Tetanus until next year so most Doctors don't have it. Well, That ordinary shot cost...... $325.60 Isn't that something. I think it is even more interesting. I am a county employee who went to a county health department and was pushed away to go to a county hospital and this shot has to be paid by our county insurance. What is the real cost of this shot? So, if you have not gotten your boosters and you work with the wood and barbed wire. Actually they say you can get Tetanus off a sewing needle. Anyway you might consider getting a shot before you have to. Especially if you do not have insurance. Christy Sarasota, FL Ps...I only have to pay $35.00 and would not have to do that if they could have figured out how to apply my HMO Doctor Referral...but they never did that before. From: "Dottie, Hickory Hollow, Brown County, Indiana"
yumyumkatts"at"voyager.net This is a little long but I thought some of you may enjoy the experience I had this week which was a real miracle. Here's the story: We went up to our Indy house to bring a few more things down to our Brown Co. home and also to do some more work around there. Indy house is up for sale. We went out in the yard to get some lawn furniture on the truck when my grandson noticed a dead limb that had fallen off a tree with a bird house still on the limb. He asked me if I wanted the bird house and I said just throw it in the truck. I thought it had been on the ground for sometime. The limb was totally dead--no leaves. It stayed in the truck all night and Saturday morning the guys were taking the things out of the truck including the bird house. Then they heard chirping. I heard it, too. It was real loud and I was wondering where it was coming from. We finally figured out it was coming from the bird house. My husband had to take a screwdriver to get the front open. Inside were three baby house wrens. I brought them inside and took a shoe box and put some kitchen towels in it and then fed the babies. They had some feathers and wings and could chirp real good and open their mouths real wide. They couldn't sit up yet--kept toppling over. One baby had his mouth over the another baby's wing. So funny. Guess he thought it was something to eat. I got a can of cat food--shrimp and tuna, real moist--and tweezers and took a tiny bit of the cat food on the tweezers and fed them. I didn't have any trouble. They lapped it up. I also put a towel around them and put the box on the table out on the deck. I was afraid to keep them inside because of the air conditioner. Then when it started getting dark I brought them in and put them in my closet. It's warm in there. I shut the door so Yummy, my little Siamese, wouldn't get nosy. I fed them until they looked like they were going back to sleep and then quit, although, I think they would have kept on eating. They seem to love the cat food stuff. One even jumped up and took the food and half of the tweezers before I could get them away. The cat food is really moist so I figured that would be enough moisture for them. The babies started getting used to me and I started getting used to them. I even picked one up a little. Wasn't too bad. No too scary. Their little claws were so sticky. They stuck to the cloth. My little Yum Yum, liked to sit beside me when I was feeding them and watch--but not with predator eyes. I think she knew they were babies. However, I kept the door shut to the "bird's room" when I wasn't feeding. Didn't want to take any chances. Also, I got where I could tell the difference in their chirps--just like you can tell the difference in your own baby's cries. I could tell the "I'm hungry" chirp from the just plain chirping and perhaps the "communicating to each other" chirp. That's what it sounded like to me. They communicate back and forth to each other. I decided to try taking them back to Indy house as I was advised to do. Their mom had not made a nest in the bird house, only a few straws and that's it. But I did have an old Bluebird nest and planned to use that. I took the birds up to Indy house in their shoe box. Fed them again before we left. (They were good eaters.) When I got to Indy house, I fed them again while my husband fixed the nest box. He found a great limb near where we found the box on the ground and where I could see it readily. He also found the remains of the original nest on the ground so we put that back in the box. Apparently, mom took the nest out when the box came crashing to the ground so she could see the babies better. We figured she had been feeding them even when they were on the ground. We put the babies in the box and went back inside and I pulled up a chair and got a coke and settled down for a long wait. After a few minutes, I opened the door to see if I could hear the babies chirping. I could. Then I saw a Cardinal come and sit on the wire looking to see what the noise was all about. Waited some more, binocs in hand, just in case I would need them. But I could see the nest box just fine without them. A few more minutes went by and then here comes mom! She went inside the box several times then on top of the box a couple of times and looked everything over real good. She looked at the box, the wire holding the box, the limb and several times at the babies. I could see one baby's mouth open thru the hole. They were ready to eat again and they meant right now. I could almost see mom thinking, "Can these really be my babies? My babies have come back? Then she flew down and came back with a tiny green bug. She did this several times. It didn't take but a minute each time to find a bug. I used the binocs to make sure it was a bug. She fed the babies real good. Then I decided I would go to the store while I was in town. While at the store, a big storm came thru. I was quite concerned about the box and the babies until I got back to Indy house and found everything AOK. The storm had ended and there was mom, still taking care of her babies. I'm so happy how all this turned out. It was so neat watching mom and the babies. We have a fellow staying in Indy house until it's sold so I asked him to keep watch over the babies for me. So all is well again and the babies are back where they belong. It was a wonderful experience. P.S. Yum and I miss the babies. When I went into my closet, she ran after me thinking I was going to feed the babies. She loved watching me feed them. Dottie, Hickory Hollow From: "Paula Ziebarth" PaulaZ"at"columbus.rr.com Thought I might post my story after reading Dottie's which I thoroughly enjoyed by the way. The story is very long and a bit off topic. This is my first year running a bluebird trail and you will note in this story my ignorance regarding bird care, etc. but I'm eager to learn. We are building a house on South Bass Island on Lake Erie. I had warned my husband, Rick, that a certain spot under the eaves was sure to attract a nesting pair of birds. He told me not to worry. No such thing would occur because construction was moving along and he was certain the area would be covered before any birds could build a nest. About a week later, I observed a pair of tree swallows building their nest and "I told you so's" ensued. My husband smiled sheepishly and told me not to worry. He was certain that the babies would fledge before the workmen would have to box in the eaves and install the siding on the house. Rick called me from the island Wednesday night to inform me that the workmen had to box in the eaves and removed a nest with four baby tree swallows in it. It looked like they had just hatched. "I told you so's" ensued once more. He told me he had placed the nest on a beam under the roof (so out of the sun) about 2 feet from original nest location, hoping that the parents would find the babies and take care of them. The next morning, on the 4th of July, I jumped on the ferry and headed over to the island to do some construction preparation work and cleanup at the house, and of course to check on the birds. The day was very hot and humid, temperatures soaring into the upper 90's. I arrived at the house and ran right upstairs to get to work and check on the birds. I walked out on the deck, saw the nest balanced on the beam and heard the babies cheeping. I went back inside to sit and eat my lunch and watch the nest through the window to see if the parents would come to the nest. No parents came. I decided to go in search of better bird housing and one of my new neighbors graciously offered a squirrel house for the swallows. I stacked scrap wood in bottom of house to bring nest to respectable level and mounted house about a foot away from original nesting site. Babies continued making quite a racket, but no adults arrived. I did a little work on the house, but was worried about the swallow babies so I called my bluebird mentor friend. She advised me to stick feathers on front of box to attract parents. She also told me the babies could survive 48 hours after hatching with no help, but would start dying after that so would need mixture of pedialyte and dry cat food or smooshed bait or insects to survive. So... the "weird bird lady" (as my eldest son lovingly describes me) went searching about the neighborhood for feathers on the ground. Two young girls asked if they could help me and I explained what I was doing and why. They didn't seem to think I was the "weird bird lady" at all. In fact they seemed very sympathetic. I asked them if they would like to run an errand for me and get some bait worms and they were eager to help. I gave them $10 with instructions to get bait worms for the birds and cold drinks for themselves. They waved good-bye and took off on their bikes. I stuck some feathers on front of squirrel box and did some more work at the house. I got worried because still no parents and decided to call a local wildlife rehabilitation center. The lady that runs the facility told me she would be happy to take care of the birds if I could bring them to her. She told me the babies were too young for any solid food and needed their mother's enzymes. She advised me to give them a very small amount of pedialyte and assured me that they should be fine. She gave me directions from the ferry. The girls came back with a big can of bait worms and my change. I had to thank them and tell them we couldn't use the worms after all and asked them to have a fishing spree after dinner on me. I showed them the babies and told them I would take them back on the ferry to a lady who can save them. They "oohed and aahed" over the babies and were glad to hear they should be all right. I hopped in the truck and drove to the General Store. Luckily they had two bottles of Pedialyte and I bought one. I stopped at the airport on way back and told my husband we would have to drop off the babies when we got back on the mainland. I caught him in between rides. We own a WACO YMF5 open cockpit biplane that we gives air tours in. I removed swallows from squirrel box and placed them in shoe box and fed them some pedialyte. They liked it and made more racket. I took squirrel box back to the neighbor and it would have been just plain rude not to sit and visit a while (can you tell I got a lot of work done that day?). One of the girls came back to house and asked me if I could take two more birds over on the ferry. There were two baby birds in her front yard that had been there all day and she was worried about them. I went to have a look and saw they had all their feathers, but did not appear airworthy yet. Back to the phone to consult my mentor, and yes they had speckled breasts - must be baby robins. She told me they were fine and just keep predators away. Back to the girls to tell them their birds were fine. Just keep cats away and mama robin would care for them, and for goodness sake, don't step on them. Back to the house and my husband and Dick were ready to leave. Dick is a friend of ours. He works as ground crew for Rick just for the fun of it and an occasional meal... They watched as I fed the babies again. One had eaten a white feather that lined the nest. I pulled it slowly out of his mouth. He looked a little dehydrated after that and I named him Flathead. Rick decided to fly us back in the biplane, so we packed the birds in the rear compartment and they had their first flight at about 2 days of age. They traveled well and Flathead ate more Pedialyte and looked better. We made it to the rehab center with a little grumbling on Rick's part, but "I told you so's" shut him up. So that is my tree swallow bird adventure. I followed up on the birds and three of them did fledge back into the wild. One died the night I brought them in, probably the one that ate the feather. Although I didn't get much work done at the house, I made some new friends and I know I will never forget it. Paula Z. From: "Keith & Sandy Kridler" kridler"at"1starnet.com Keith Kridler Mt. Pleasant, Texas They moved when a foul ball nearly smacked one of them and then six more bluebirds came floating across the field and all nine were circling the infield like a flock of butterflies chasing a rainbow.....They then drifted over and sat right above the visitors dugout and heckled them for the rest of the inning, distracting them with wing waving and singing/jeering, while Shawn's team rolled to an easy victory. I hated to see the 20 year old concrete and brick stadium go and be replaced with a modern steel and aluminum monstrosity....For MANY years bluebirds have nested in holes knocked in the brick walls and concrete bleachers of the old stadium on our high school campus.....The bluebirds watched the rest of the game from the top of the outfield fence and hawked for insects around the outfielders....From the top of the fence they can watch the game and see 6 wood nestboxes now in "long ball" territory..... I got a cute call yesterday! The Phone rings.... I hear a pause when I answer....Then hear the question...."Are you the BLUE MARTIN MAN." I laugh and say, "You mean the Bluebird Man?"....Another pause....."Is there a DIFFERENCE?" Does a NAME really matter? :-))) Reach out and touch someone today! KK From: "paul kilduff" plkldf"at"hotmail.com Paul Kilduff Sunday, April 27, 2003 I was out at the park string-trimming under the nestboxes. About an hour into my work, I came upon two tree swallows under
a nestbox, one in the air and one on the ground. The one in
the air seemed to be Maybe two hours later, I came back, but now there was a tree
swallow on the box, and the one on the ground was quite still.
I knelt down and picked it I got out my little pen knife and began cutting the thread and removing it, but then I found a piece of thread that seemed to come right out of the bird’s abdomen. I tugged a bit harder, but there was no give at all. The thread disappeared into the bird’s chest, and gave no indication of coming loose. I realized that by cutting the thread I was not necessarily doing the right thing. I saw I was out of my depth. My car was not far away and I knew I had a close-by rehabber’s name and number in the car, and I had my cell phone with me. Grabbing the string trimmer in my free (right) hand, I went to the car, threw the trimmer in the back, opened the door, and sat in the driver’s seat. With one hand I found the book with the rehabber in it, and called the number. Please answer. A recording! The recording said, “If this is a true wildlife emergency, you can page me on ....” Still holding the tree swallow in my left hand, I wrote down the number, called it, put in my number, and waited. Minutes later, my phone rang. “This is Kathy Woods – you paged me?” “Yes, this is Paul Kilduff, from the Oregon Ridge bluebird
trail. I have a “What kind of line?” “I don’t know, I think it’s sewing thread.” “Where can I meet you?” Angel of mercy! “Uh, you’re in Jacksonville?” “Yes.” “Uh, I think I can go down York Rd and turn left...?” “That’s Ashland Road.” “And there’s a bridge, right?” “Yes.” “Okay, how bout I meet you on your side of that bridge?” “Okay.” ”I’ve got a white Plymouth mini-van.” “I’ve got a . . . Oh, my husband took the Trooper. I’ve got a red Honda.” “Okay, see you soon.” Man! Okay! Let’s go! Still with one hand, I steered the car out onto the road and headed east. Come on little guy (I thought of it as a male, but didn’t know for sure). Just hang on. And he was hanging on. He had both talons wrapped around my closed little finger. Finally, I got to the bridge. Crossed it. There was space on the right to pull over. I pulled to the end of the space; maybe she can make a u-turn on the other side and pull in behind me. Where is she? Come on little guy. Hold on. Praying. To whatever: please let her get here. Please let the bird hang on. He got still. His grip relaxed. Uh oh, I thought. Held him up, looked him in the eye. That eye looking back at me. Still alive. Here’s a red Honda, there’s a wave, and hey! She made a U-ey on *this* side of the bridge, pulling up neatly behind me. I’m out of my car and she’s out of hers. I hand her the bird and she says, “Can we get in your car?” Oh. Okay. I thought she’d take it with her. “Kathy, why don’t you sit in the drivers’ seat and get started?” I clean off the passenger seat and sit down. Kathy has two syringes, forceps, and little scissors. She’s working with the forceps trying to untangle the thread. It’s everywhere. So tangled. The black thread is hard to see against the bird’s feathers. She’s showing me something: “How good is your vision, can you see this?” She’s showing me how the thread is tied around the bird’s neck. I get my little flashlight out and then think of the big, powerful flashlight that came with my portable drill. “I’m never going to use that flashlight,” I thought at the time I bought the drill, and it turns out I’ve used it a lot! But I’ve never been happier to have it than I was just then. I held the big flashlight and Kathy worked quickly to untangle the thread. Finally she pulled the cap off one of the syringes with her teeth. I’m thinking, are you going to put it to sleep? As if in answer to my unspoken question, she says, “Just a little steroid, to help calm him down.” She’s calling it “him,” too. Very gently, into the breast. And shortly, he does calm down. I take the syringe from her. She keeps working. I say, “If he or she lives through this, what a story to tell the grandchildren. Do you think it’s male or female?” “Remind me to check later,” Kathy says, but I didn’t. I think it was a male. There just seems to be no end to the amount of thread wrapped around this guy’s wings, legs, and head. Some of it is knotted. His legs are particularly involved, with lots of knots that have to be cut. “This leg may be damaged,” she says. Working. She blows the feathers away constantly so she can see what’s beneath. Mr. tree swallow takes this in stride. “I’ve got some mealworms with me,” I say, trying to be helpful. “I think I’ll just give him some fluids.” Hmm. “By, uh...” “Sub-cu.” Oh. Okay! Now about six bikers on Harleys stop in the other lane, and then make u-turns and come up behind her car. She doesn’t take her eyes off the bird. “Cops?” “No, bikers. I think they’re just resting.” Which they turned out to be. Well, finally I watch as Kathy unwraps the last of the thread. Mr. tree swallow is still kind of subdued, and we are happy. Kathy mops her brow – she’s really sweating. I don’t know how long she worked – it seemed 20 minutes but maybe it was 15. “How do you, uh, get compensated?” “We don't charge for doing wildlife in this state, actually not in all of the States..... Just a thank you is nice. You have a hobby that you love, right?” “Kathy, the bird and I both say thank you.” Then she took the other syringe, pulled off the cap of that with her teeth, and while I held the syringe, she spread his left leg and found a little patch under the leg. Licking her little finger, she wet the feathers to make a bare patch, and punctured the skin with the needle and squeezed in an amount of fluid. “With Dexamethasone, it’s protocol to give this stuff afterward. Kind of like gatorade for animals.” Then the right leg, then back again, till all the fluid was gone. Then, she handed him back to me! Suddenly I’m all thumbs! Whoa! But soon I have him held firmly but gently in my left hand. We got out of the car, shook hands. “This was great!” Shaking my head in amazement. Kathy: “People ask me why I do this and I say: ‘because I can!’” “I drove over here one-handed, I guess I can go back the same way!” “If he starts to get restless, hold him against your chest under your shirt, so it’s dark.” “I’m so glad you were here,” and I’m back in the car, pointed the wrong way. There’s a spot for me to make a u-turn not far down the road, and I do. Then back to the park. Mr. tree swallow now does start to get a little restless, not much, but a little. I do hold him against my chest, under my shirt, and he’s still the rest of the way. We get back to 033 and I was planning to put him in the box so he can rest till he’s ready, but I think better of it and just decide to put him on the top of the box and watch to see what happens. But he won’t let go of my finger. I try to dump him out of my hand but he won’t let go. Okay, I’ll just let you rest in my hand till you’re ready. If you ever *will* be ready.... Knuckles down, I put my hand on top of the box, and he faces into the wind, eyes intent, but not moving. This goes on for maybe three minutes. I hear some tree swallows at the next pair of boxes, and think maybe I should take the bird over there, but then the birds take off into the air and they’re flying over us and he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hey, do you hear that? Those’re tree swallows! Come on!” Maybe another two minutes went by and then, suddenly, as I looked away, he flew into the air, limping, heading into the wind, not making any headway, just staying even with me, flying into the wind. His flight seemed erratic, heading to the ground, then back up, then down again. Oh, god. Then, like a rocket, he shot up to the top of a line of hardwoods,
and flew into the trees so I lost sight of him for a moment.
When he came back out, Now, people who get paid to know such things say that a bird has no emotions because it has no hippocampus. I can’t argue with that. So it could not have been joy that I saw in their flight, those two birds, speeding through the air together, swooping, diving, soaring. Couldn’t have been! But it looked like joy from where I was standing! And not having emotions, a bird can’t feel gratitude. So, a few minutes later, as I stood, still leaning on the box, and two tree swallows made one quick circle around me, flying and chattering as only tree swallows can do, they couldn’t have been saying, “Awesome job, thanks!” But I took it for a thank you anyway, and said, “You’re welcome” as they dashed away. And, like Tin Woodsman, I knew that I, at least, had a hippocampus
because I could feel it breaking. copyright ------------------------------------- The rest of the story: Since I’m talking to bluebirders here, I have to tell you the rest of the story, even though it makes a better story without its epilogue. As I stood there, leaning on the box, my eyes lit on the piece of loosely-woven cloth that I had stapled to the box paired with the one I was leaning on. The cloth is very iridescent, and I thought it might do a better job of attracting blues than the satin-style cloth I’d used last year. Uh-oh. I looked carefully at the cloth and, yes, I think the black threads of the cloth are the same thread that Mr. or Ms. tree swallow was tangled in. No sense taking chances. I think I’ve got all of that cloth from all our boxes. So a little warning: if you use cloth to attract bluebirds to your boxes, you may want to check to see if it may pose a hazard. I have some blue surveyor’s tape, which I know won’t unravel, and I think I'll use only that from now on. You can't get it at Lowe's/Home Depot, at least around here, but it may be available at a surveyors' specialty supply store (where I got mine). From: "paul kilduff" plkldf"at"hotmail.com Kathy Clark said: Hi, Kathy, thank you!! In addition to the part about the loosely-woven cloth I should append the second epilogue, which I sent to our local listserv (for Oregon Ridge monitors): ---quote---- Wildlife rehabilitators support their work by donations. No funding is provided by any government agency. For example, says Kathy, “if a {frozen} mouse is 40 cents, and a great horned owl eats 6 a day, and you have the owl for two months....that adds up. Then there are medicines, which we pay for ourselves, and supplies, syringes, fluids, tube feeding foods, etc.” Donations in kind, such as sheets and towels, suet, bird seed, etc., or monetary donations, are accepted. Phoenix Center’s address is: The Phoenix Center, PO Box 424, Phoenix, MD 21131, Phone 410-628-WREN. Contributions are tax deductible. --------------- and KimMarie said: Haleya and others on the list remind us all the time to have
the number of you local rehabber handy... Paul, your story is not only inspirational but an example of what to do in a similar situation (and I have no doubt "your new friend" gave you the most wonderful thank you in the only way "he" could). Thanks for the good words! Here's a website you can use to find rehabilitators in your state. http://www.tc.umn.edu/~devo0028/contact.htm I have put nearby rehabilitators' names and numbers in each monitor book for our trails, after contacting them by email to make sure they were okay with that. Being the closest, Kathy Woods' name was at the top. I gather that all rehabbers can use donations in kind or in cash.... best, Date: Thu, 03 Jul 2003 15:09:16 -0400 Hi List - this is just an inspirational story I wrote, thought you might be interested: This is my story of how bluebirds saved my life. Being an anorexic since I was 9 years old, it wasn't until a pair of bluebirds landed in my backyard nestbox that drove me to begin the journey to recovery. I have always been a bird fanatic as I have two parrots and live practically within reach of binoculars. But the first time I laid eyes on these creatures, my heart melted. I watched daily as they worked together feeding their babies. They amused both me and my husband as they flopped around in our birdbath and preened their soggy feathers. I chuckled at the males' angry divebombs while approaching the nestbox. I was hooked and spent hours researching them and ordered every book I could find to ensure their survival. If the world could create such magnificent birds, then it must not be such a bad place. After that summer, my goal was to slowly create my own trail. Last September, as I layed in a hospital bed with a slow burning potassium drip stuck in my arm, for the first time in my life I became aware that this disease was killing me. I decided to seek help and went directly into an in-patient program specifically designed for people with eating disorders. I remember lying there weak with my head turned towards the window and I thought about all of the beauty in the world (especially bluebirds) and how I wanted to be around to see it. Besides, who would maintain my trail if I didn't? Inside the hospital I rediscovered myself, awakened my sleeping
tastebuds and embraced a new relationship with food. My heart
grew lighter and my mind became unclouded. Life is good. As
an inspirational coping mechanism, after I left the hospital,
I got a tatoo of a bluebird on my hipbone. This was to help
me from resurrecting those hideous feelings of self-loathing
everytime I look down in the shower. With a bluebird smiling
up at me, it is a constant My duration in the hospital was extremely painful and difficult, but worth it. I still struggle daily and continue to work with an out-patient team. Sometimes I look back and wonder what the planet would be like without bluebirds and where I would be if they didn't choose to find me. Bluebirds truly are a national treasure...... I am so greatful they are in my life. Lisa Bennett Date: Wed, 16 Jul 2003 07:18:08 -0700 Dear Friends, Very good post Karen, and funny how the Humane Society is trying to protect these vermin. Once somebody turned me into the Sonoma County chapter of the Humane Society. As the officer got out of his truck and came over to tell me that someone reported that I was trapping birds and that he was here it check it out and write my a citation. After telling me this, he couldn't help be notice all the noticed all the Barn Owl, and Bluebird nest boxes in and around my wood shop, so he started asking more questions about what I was doing. I showed him my Starling Hotel (by the way our traps are trapping more Starlings right now than they did earlier this year which I find to very odd, but not all together unexpected as Starling are very curious birds) and explained that this is a live trap that traps birds alive and unharmed. It traps mostly pest birds (because of it's location) and I've only trapped one Bluebird in 3 years, which was released unharmed. The officer smiled with approval and told me flat out that he thought what I was do was great. As he was getting into his truck he told me that he would contact the complaint and would tell them that what I was doing was legal and beneficial. He also told me that he gets calls from people that have Staling problems and that he would refer them to me. Wow from a citation to a referral, not bad for a days work. Cheers and as always... Happy Bluebird Trails To You, fitz wrote: Karen, ... From: "Keith & Sandy Kridler" kakridler"at"1starnet.com Keith Kridler Mt. Pleasant, Texas Junk yard Dog: A friend said he saw a yellow sided bird feeding young in a pipe at a local scrap yard. I went and checked it out and sure enough a Great Crested flycatcher pair was feeding two young birds down about 16" in a 4" square metal tube right out in the middle of the scrap yard pile. I talked with the owners and they were excited enough about these "rare" birds that they were going to leave this scrap pile alone for another week and allow the young to fledge. The pipe was 1/4 thick walled and poked out of the pile on about a 45% angle and the top was about 5 feet off the ground. It was exposed to full sun and about 100 degree days. It was only 8 feet off the main road through the scrap yard where all incoming and out going trucks travel. They had just been through about a 2" thunderstorm the week before. Shawn was able to sit about 10 feet from this busy location and quickly took a disk full of pictures. The thing that really hurts here is that I have 8 or 9 nestboxes on the streets surrounding this industrial area here in Mt. Pleasant. We canoed the Buffalo river last week in the north west corner of Arkansas for a couple of days and saw a LOT of different cavity nesters utilizing the limestone caves and holes in the cliffs along the river. There were a pair of bluebirds in the yard where we stayed in the town of Gilbert. The most interesting cavity nester we saw in the cliffs was a prothonotary warbler feeding young about 25 feet above the river. They were nesting in a small hole right beside the daredevil jump off point for teenagers who climb the cliff at this one point and dive off into the deep hole in the river. The birds would patiently wait until someone jumped off the narrow ledge and then they would pop into the hole and feed their young...KK From: Wendell Long, mrsimple33"at"go-concepts.com Friends, Well, it is about that time again! It is time for our annual Fond Memory Bluebirding Contest. It has been about 4 years now since we conducted our last annual contest. My how time flies! The rules and requirements are simple and easy to follow. All one needs to do is post to the list a most fond bluebirding memory you have experienced over the years while growing to help the bluebird along the way. The last annual contest included many wonderful postings of happy, positive and fond memories in the lives of those who have a special place for bluebirds. So, if you have a happy happy story to tell please enter the contest and share with your friends here on the list. The grand prize winner will be chosen by an impartial, fair and honest judge.(In case you don't recognize such a person on the list-the judge is yours truly-Me). The winning prize will be a tuition free, for two people, Wendell Long Bluebird photographic workshop to be held this coming spring right here on my Belly Acres Ranch. You will learn to hone your skills in photographing the bluebird and hopefully have a good time. You may even meet a few nice people in the process. I realize there must be a second prize of choice due to the fact there are among us those who have no interest in and in fact would prefer the bluebird be not disturbed by the photo enthusiast. Should such a person have the winning fond memory, then that person will have the opportunity to choose among other winning prizes to be announced at a latter date when the contest is closed. An attempt to add mystery! Repeating your fondest memory you have told before is not against the rules. Contest will end April 1, 2004 at 12 noon. Keep those post coming in!!!!! Wendell Long Waynesville, OH Former Chairman Local Park Bench From: Wendell Long, mrsimple33"AT"go-concepts.com Friends, But as I read her well written fond memory
story, I could not help but to wish we Wendell Long From: Evelyn Cooper, emcooper"at"bayou.com Wendell, that is a hard one. I keep a journal of every year and it is great to go back and read it. There are so many wonderful memories there and each one is so vivid when I read them. I think the one that is dearest to me is when I looked out my kitchen window one January morning and there were about 12 Bluebirds acting like they were squabbling over the one nestbox I had in my front yard. It had been sitting there for 2 years with no takers. I can still see that scene like it was yesterday and it was 6 years ago. Needless to say, I got busy and made more nestboxes, thus the beginning of my trail! Evelyn Cooper From: Sharon Kersten, sak"at"tlab.net My most memorable experience is actually my very first experience with bluebirds. My husband and I were newly married, both raised in the suburbs of Houston, and knowing absolutely nothing about nature. Our experiences with country life were the wonderful times we both had as children, visiting relatives on the family farms. One of our goals after we married was to move to the country to raise our children, and after two years of marriage, we were finally able to do just that. How excited we were as we packed all our belongings and set out on our new adventure. We had a new house built on a whole acre of land, which seemed at the time to stretch out forever into the horizon. One of our first goals was to grow a vegetable garden. Now we knew absolutely nothing about growing vegetables, but... we read a lot of books. So we tilled and planted our first garden. (The results of that garden is another story.) For Christmas that first year, my grandfather gave us a Purple Martin house. At the time, we didn't know a Purple Martin from a blackbird. Neither of us had seen a Purple Martin, at least that we knew, but my Grandfather said they were beneficial birds, so we decided to put up the Martin house in the middle of the garden. One day in early spring as I was looking out the kitchen window, I saw an absolutely beautiful bird entering a hole in the Purple Martin house. Throughout the day I watched this bird, and then another fly in and out of the hole. "Wow, we have Purple Martin's," I thought. (They had to be Purple Martins because that was a Purple Martin House.) "They're so beautiful, no wonder everyone puts up houses for them." When my husband came home from work later that evening, we both sat on the porch watching the "Purple Martins" fly in and out of the house. A week or so later my grandfather came for a visit. I couldn't wait to show him the "Purple Martins" we had nesting in the house he gave us. Well, you probably know what's coming next. He took one look at the birds and let out the loudest belly laugh ever. "Those aren't Purple Martins, those are Bluebirds!" That was over 25 years ago. My husband and I have moved several times since then, but we ALWAYS put up a Bluebird nestbox or two, ( or 24 as we have now) first thing after we move in. They've become part of our family and part of our family history. I cannot imagine our lives without Bluebirds! Sharon Kersten From: "Wendell Long" April 1 is fast approaching and the deadline date for the submission of your bluebird fond memory experience for the annual contest. The response has been overwhelming to say the least. In order to provide greater incentive for an even greater number of members to post an entry, we have made a few changes in the rules. Most important change has been the elimination of grand first prize altogether and the advancement of second prize to be awarded as grand first prize! You may not recall that as previously announced grand first prize was a Wendell Long tuition free bluebird photographic workshop for two members. Well, much to my surprise and to the delight of my bride there was absolutely no interest whatsoever, none at all, in such a prize. As a matter of fact those submitting entries hinted that they preferred second prize even though it is yet to be named. Any and all are welcome to submit a suggestion for second prize which has now as of January 20, 2004 become grand first prize replacing the aforementioned photo bird shoot. I must say the fond memories submitted so far are most outstanding and will be hard to beat but don't give up yet--spring is not far away and bluebirds will return once again. And who knows perhaps we will have two second prizes, along with a third prize and a tie for grand first prize. However, in order to provide balance, each winner will require at least one loser and each success must be accompanied by a failure. Wendell Long Waynesville, Ohio From: Bruce
Burdett, blueburd"at"tds.net Wendell, My favorite Bluebird memory is a simple one, probably shared by many of you. Back in 1989 I put up my first brand-new homemade Bluebird house. A half-hour after after I installed it, the lady who owned the land phoned me to report that a pair of Bluebirds was already checking it out. They nested in it, in fact, and had 5 eggs going when the droves of local Tree Swallows harassed them to the point where they simply gave up and abandoned the nesting. No violence, - just overwhelming numbers. Ever since that experience I've been pairing all my houses, 15' +- apart, with good success - one house for the swallows and one for the Bluebirds. No more competition. Bruce Burdett SW NH From: David Gwin [mailto:David.Gwin"at"cityofcarrollton.com] Dear Bluebird-List: From: roy pischer [mailto:tlp4456"at"msn.com] David, that is the best story, bluebird or otherwise, I've heard in a long time. Bless you for making Mrs. Ross so happy. Now let's all try to be that kind to each other on this list! |
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