Spring Wonders

In the small gap between the winter's foot of snow and the advent of unusual April heat in my part of the country, we had spring.

In early March the weather warmed enough to melt the last of the snow, including what was piled at the top of the driveway. The crocus bloomed, the snowdrops struggled to bloom and the daffodils started growing through the winter debris. In the space of two days I could finally clear the front garden beds and cut down the dried ornamental grasses so the daffodils growing in this area could be seen. Six months' worth of collected brush was put at the curb.

Dogwood buds, before they opened and the leaves appeared.
(Margo D. Beller)

I had time to again marvel at how my perennials are able to survive an unusually cold and snowy winter to grow again in the spring without any assistance from me. Then the temperature again became very cold.

That did not stop the plants from growing or the birds from singing in the early morning. The robins, Carolina wrens and jays were particularly active. Woodpeckers proclaimed their territories by drumming against trees. Despite the cold I went outside with Merlin to do a census of what was in the vicinity. (Two days ago I saw the first report of house wren in the area. My husband helped me put up the nest box. A wren came to investigate a day later and I heard one sing this morning.)

Slowly the temperature warmed. The maple tree flowered. The viburnum and pear tree started leafing, as did the lilac. At the very end of the Lenten period there were flowers on the Lenten Rose (hellebore). The dead, brown leaves started falling off the euonymous shrubs, revealing the fresh green and yellow foliage the deer will try to get at through the fencing.

Spruce continues to stand tall and, once again, has put out cones. He hosted some unusual winter visitors this year - a pair of red-breasted nuthatches. I stand in awe of him, seeing how much he has grown since he was planted in late 2007.

However, the other tree planted at that time, the dogwood, continues to concern me. Ever since having more than half of the dogwood cut down I wait to see if the remaining live half will bloom and leaf out. This year I could see flower buds but would they open? Thanks to the heat that came upon us during the last week and a couple of brief but heavy rain showers, the buds have started opening and the leaves are growing.

The apple tree starting to show leaves. It now is covered in blossoms.
(Margo D. Beller)

And then there's the old apple tree. Last year the tree leafed, bloomed and then one big branch went dead. As with the dogwood, I had the dead part cut down. Would the tree survive?

So far it looks like it has. The tree started growing leaves and, as of today, there are blossoms. Each flower is a potential apple. But I am still watching to see how the tree progresses as the season continues. The pear tree, meanwhile, has many flowers in the upper branches I can't get at to cut back. I hope the squirrels get to the fruit because, as I found out years ago, the branches of the pear can't withstand the weight of a bear.

After all the snow the plants appear to be doing quite well despite the current heat. The azalea buds are about to open. The grape hyacinth is thriving in a way I have not seen in years. The lilies and peony are growing so fast I've had to put in supports sooner than expected. 

The New England aster I planted last year is leafing but I am not sure if the lavender has survived, or if I killed the anemone. I've put the anemone in a different pot with fresh soil in what I hope is a better place in the yard. I will be watching for signs of life. If it is alive it won't flower until autumn.

By which time the spring wonder of my garden will have long been replaced by the tedium of weeding and thoughts of putting the garden to bed before another winter.  

Saving the Apple Tree

I hope she forgives me.

The apple tree and I go way back to when we moved into this house. I've been here over 30 years and I estimate that, based on the size of the tree, it was planted about decade before. So it is an old tree.

The apple tree now. You can see where
the cut was made on the right. (Margo D. Beller)

A few days ago the boss of the lawn service I use came over with his chainsaw and cut off the rotting branch of the apple tree. He also, on his own, took off two smaller dead branches, saving me climbing up my ladder with my handsaw.

The result does not look so bad ... from afar. Once I paid the man and he left, I went out to look at the cut. I was horrified to see a large hole, and carpenter ants coming to investigate - or scurrying around after being disturbed. If carpenter ants were in the tree it wouldn't have much of a chance. If the ants didn't dig it out from within a hungry pileated woodpecker would start excavating from the outside to get at the ants. Either way, the tree would soon die.

I immediately drove to the local big-box store and bought limb sealant to cover the wound. 

Once I cleared the sawdust I sprayed the cut and into the hole.
(Margo D. Beller)

When half the dogwood died a few years ago, I had it cut back. The cut was clean, there was no rot in the center of the wood. But I wrapped the bottom of the trunk where pieces were starting to fall off. I must've done the right thing because the tree has survived, leafed out and even blossomed. I have gotten used to the way it looks when I am sitting on the porch. It is only when you go out and look at what was cut that you can get an idea of how much more there used to be.

The apple tree situation is different in several ways. For one, there was that big hole. So I sprayed into that hole to protect what I could reach. 

Another difference - I had the dogwood planted in 2007 at the same time as Spruce Bringsgreen, the blue spruce. So both trees are teenagers compared with the apple tree. 

The apple has survived my cutting down three overgrown, deer-attracting apple trees on the property, and one small apple tree that was killed by too many young bucks rubbing the velvet off their antlers. This remaining apple tree has survived sapsucker drill holes, a gall at the bottom and a hole in the trunk big enough for a chipmunk to hide in. It has produced apples every year, especially after it has been pruned. It has abided the squirrels and the house wren nest box that hung there for 10 years until it was moved to the dogwood. It has forgiven me for walking around with my long pole to whack the branches and bring down enough apples to use.

But I'm not sure it will forgive me this time.

The apple tree in 2023. 
(Margo D. Beller)

Last year, thanks to climate change, we had a severe drought starting in the summer and lasting into spring of this year, at which point we were inundated with an overabundance of rain. The apple blossoms appeared as usual, and then suddenly one-third of the tree went black. The squirrels and I had apples but they tended to be smaller. The apples were done by June 30 and the rotting branch was cut off that day. I should not have been surprised by that hole in the tree, but I was.

"I felt her pain, even though I do not have the problems an apple tree can have," Spruce told me after it was done. "But it was hard to watch."

The apple tree has been stoic. Her leaves are still green and, even with one-third of her gone, she doesn't look misshapen. But she isn't talking to me at the moment.

I hope she lives.

Many Directions At Once

 ...[S]tarting a sentence in the middle, and then going to the beginning and the end of it at the same time... both directions at once.

--Liner note from the John Coltrane "lost" album "Both Directions At Once," recorded in 1963 but not released until 2018.

It is a warmish but quiet morning on the enclosed back porch, and I am catching up with the world after last week's heatwave kept me inside with the air conditioning for nearly a week, except for brief forays in the oppressive air to pick up apples dropped by the thirsty squirrels. I would hear birds but had no inclination to go looking for them until the day the heatwave ended, when it was wonderfully cool in the early morning and I could take a long walk.

Wren nest in what is now the diseased area
of the apple tree, back in 2020.
(Margo D. Beller)

This morning, however, I am sitting. In one direction I can see the house wren nest box. During the heatwave the male had been singing almost continually, and I wondered what had happened to its mate. I could not sit on the porch in the heat to watch for activity. 

Unlike the first wren brood, when it was unusually wet and cool during incubation, it must've been extremely hot in that little wooden box for this female. If there were eggs in there they wouldn't need her all the time to keep them warm. But when it turned cooler I did see her leaving the box to get food, then fly back inside for long periods of time.

As I watched today she flew out and soon returned holding a bright green insect, maybe a katydid. She took it inside. So I'm sure the eggs have hatched and she is now feeding small young that will grow bigger. 

What the hummingbird saw, which may be why it didn't stay.
(Margo D. Beller)

That's one direction I can look. If I turn around in my chair I can see the hummingbird feeder. When it turned cool I had put fresh sugar water in and hoped something would be interested.

A couple of days ago, as I was at the back door before going out to collect dropped apples, a hummingbird did suddenly appear. It briefly investigated the pink coral bell flowers, flew up to look at the red lid of the feeder but did not fly over the netting. Instead, it headed for the apple tree but a squirrel in a lower branch must've spooked it because it disappeared. I hope it returns.

Hummingbirds used to be a common occurrence in my yard, usually during July. Last year I saw no hummingbirds at the feeder but one could've come by. Same with the one I saw this week. Did it come by when I had taken the feeder inside? Did it come by when the liquid had spoiled? Was it put off by the netting that protects the plants in the shade? No clue.

Years ago a yellow-bellied sapsucker drilled these holes in
the apple tree. I didn't think they had anything to do with
the current rot. Now I'm not sure. (Margo D. Beller)

So now I'm watching for hummingbirds when I'm on the porch. That is good, because the apple tree is done putting out fruit and I will soon have to do something about its diseased limb.

There was a time, early in our occupancy of this house, when apple season was during July. Little by little apple season has been earlier and earlier. This year the tree started dropping small apples at the end of May, not long after flowering. Then one-third of the tree suddenly went black. As apples got bigger in the rest of the tree the squirrels started coming. I took my long pole out to knock down what apples I could reach. Despite one-third of the tree being dead I managed to get enough fruit for two pints of sauce and two apple cakes. 

The fruit I could not reach I left for the squirrels. Yesterday, June 28, I picked up the last little apples from the ground. Today, June 29, there were no squirrels in the tree and a chipmunk was rummaging around looking for what apple bits it could find. 

Chipmunk hunting apple pieces. (Margo D. Beller)

Apple season is over for this year and it isn't even July. If cutting off the diseased limb doesn't save the tree it could be the last apple season. We've lived in this house for over 30 years and the tree was there when we moved in. It was planted by a previous owner maybe a decade before that.

According to one website I found, the average lifespan of an apple tree is 25 to 50 years, depending on the type. Years ago I showed one of the apples to the manager of the farmstand I buy from and he thought it was a MacIntosh type, even though the tree blooms in the spring rather than fall. MacIntosh trees live 30-45 years.

Factors affecting its life include exposure to sunlight (check), competition with other trees (it stands alone) and moisture. Too little is bad and so is too much. Last year we were in a severe drought, which lasted until this spring, when we had too much rain. This is an old tree. As with the dogwood a few years ago, my hope is cutting away the dead stuff will allow the apple tree to live. But it may not.

Besides apples ripening sooner than before thanks to increasing global warming the insect population is surging earlier, too.

That's why another distraction from my chair is watching for fungal gnats on the porch. Last year the gnats started bothering me in August, at which point I brought my house plants inside and put the infested bird seed bag outside. This year they started in the spring, when it was cold and wet. Maybe they were seeking shelter and warmth because during the heatwave there were very few of them on the porch. (And I don't have house plants on the porch this year.) What I found inside during the heatwave I am sure I brought in after dealing with the apples. 

Instead of spraying the porch, as I did last year, I tried old-fashioned flypaper. 

Hanging from the ceiling. (Margo D. Beller)

I hung it on a wall near the screen door, because that is where I'd see a gnat early in the morning. But all I caught was a spider. I don't want to catch spiders. Spiders are useful insects with their webs. So I changed the location and have the sticky paper hanging from the ceiling. But unlike flies, attracted by the color yellow, gnats could care less. They seem to prefer the white walls of the porch, which is where I've continued to kill them. The one fly that got onto the porch got caught in a spider web. 

The flypaper is something else to look at when I'm not watching the wrens.  

Another Tree Problem

“Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.”
― Khalil Gibran, "Sand and Foam"

At this time of year things have settled somewhat in the yard. Catbirds fly around looking for food to feed their young. I am serenaded by one singing from my hedge, where I'm sure there is a nest. Less than 24 hours after the wren young left the box, a male wren, possibly a different bird, started singing its territorial song. It was not the only one. On my street alone I've heard three others, one of them two yards over. The male hasn't drawn a mate yet but he is fierce in protecting the nest box.

The dead part of the tree against the living rest
of the apple tree. (Margo D. Beller)

The fledged wren young were noisily following their parents in and around shrubs at the periphery of my yard for a couple of days but lately I have not heard them.

The gnats continue in ones and twos rather than a bagful, and I am still not sure how they are getting inside the enclosed porch. Every day I play whack-a-gnat. There is no longer anything on the porch that would allow them to eat or breed. If they are coming in through small spaces around the windows, I may have to turn to chemical warfare again.

Currently, however, my main attention is on the apple tree.

We had a lot of rain this spring, and the tree was full of blossoms, which meant it would be full of apples. Then, suddenly, one third of the tree died. This is an old tree. It has a hole in its trunk big enough for a chipmunk to hide in. It has a ring of little holes from a yellow-bellied sapsucker that visited a few years ago. And yet, the tree continued to bloom and produce apples.

Dogwood blossoms in 2016. (Margo D. Beller)

When half the dogwood tree died in 2023, I asked the yard man I was using at the time to bring his chainsaw. He cut the dead parts into stackable pieces. I waited to see what would happen. The next spring the dogwood not only lived, it put out flowers.

Last year, the problem was the tree-like house plant that was getting too unwieldy to transport in and out of the house. I agonized over whether to kill the plant, but when it began growing from the bottom my decision was made and I chopped down the top. The two parts growing from the bottom are healthy (see below) and, I hope, won't grow too much.

These are a little bigger now. (Margo D. Beller)

Now it is the apple tree's turn. 

There are no lack of sites on the internet explaining what can happen to an apple tree. Here's what Tree Fluent has to say: "Environmental changes can significantly impact apple trees. Temperature fluctuations, excessive rainfall, or drought conditions can lead to stress."

Well, that sums up life in my area in a nutshell. This week alone we started 20 degrees colder than average and expect to jump to 20 degrees hotter than average by the weekend. A major fire in the New Jersey Pine Barrens in April was finally put out with help from a series of heavy rain storms. But last summer was so dry we had drought emergencies that didn't end until last month.

What else could've affected the apple tree?

Couch to Homestead lists a variety of causes including over- or under-watering, the wrong growing environment, a lack of nutrients, pests and diseases. The diseases have such charming names as apple scab and fire blight. There are also various parts of the tree that can be prone to rot, starting with the roots.

Apples growing on the living two-thirds of the tree.
(Margo D. Beller)

I did not plant this tree. It is the last of five apple trees standing, four of which I've taken down and one taken down by stags rubbing velvet from their antlers too many times. I left this one tree because its apples taste good as apple sauce. (Unfortunately, the squirrels and the deer also like them.) These apples usually have more bad than good parts, requiring a lot of cutting to use. In summer the apple leaves seem to be the first to yellow and fall. I thought this was a natural thing. Now I am not so sure.

My remedy for this problem is to rent a chainsaw, cut down the dead wood and hope that allows the tree to recover and grow next spring. It worked for the dogwood. It worked for the big plant.

I haven't gotten around to doing it yet because it has been too wet, yet again. If this remedy doesn't work the tree, like the diseased ash tree we had to cut down years ago, is history. 

Chipmunks and Squirrels and Deer (Oh, No!)

I want to talk about some of my neighbors, Not the two-legged ones I'd rather ignore. No, I mean the four-legged ones that make gardening even more of a challenge than it needs to be.

But first, a house wren update. Since my last post, no sooner had the one house wren chick fledged but the adult male - at least I think it is the same male - started singing up a storm all over the yard. It was once again setting his territory for his next brood - house wrens have two each year, tho' I haven't always seen two broods in my yard. He is also "fighting" in song another house wren male that has been singing from a yard across the street recently. I have seen the wren in my yard chase off other birds getting too close to the nest box including house sparrows, jays, catbirds, Carolina wrens and that neighboring house wren.

The male wren on the dogwood branch, between
couplings. (Margo D. Beller)

In the midst of his singing he found a mate - the same as before? - and the female has set about making the box her own, clearing out some stuff and replacing it with some twigs and grasses to line the nest for her eggs when they come. There has been frequent coupling in the dogwood tree so there are no eggs at the moment. 

Now back to the neighbors.

My main problem with chipmunks is they dig, and they are small enough to get under or around my deer fencing. So I find deep holes dug around my plants, usually just after I plant them in the ground or in a pot. If I catch the damage in time I can put the plant back in and save it but that doesn't always happen. I discovered one chipmunk continuously dug up a canna I kept putting back in - when I figured out it wanted a spot for a tunnel hidden by the peony I moved the canna. Another time I came out the front door and a chipmunk jumped OUT of the cage I had put around my pepper and basil plants and a couple of annuals to protect them from the digging. So much for that brilliant idea.

The cage and all but one potted plant (a zinnia) are now stowed inside, either on the enclosed porch or in my sunny front room. (The pepper plant has a nice-sized fruit growing on it and I don't want it seized by the rodent.) Now I am thinking that next year I won't have many pots of plants outside.

Why do chipmunks dig? Maybe to create tunnels for transportation for themselves and their young or to look for acorns they may have planted in these or similar pots last year or to put new acorns in for the winter. Whatever the reason, they create havoc in my garden.

Squirrel in apple tree, caught in the act.
(Margo D. Beller)

Squirrels are too big to follow the chipmunks behind the netting and don't want to get caught in an area they can't escape. But they do climb. They climb into the dogwood to look at the nest box (and are chased away by the male wren). Thanks to the fur coat squirrels always wear they get very hot and very thirsty. Over the past few years squirrels have managed to break or damage water containers I hang in the pear tree by acrobatically grabbing the container with front paws while hanging onto the tree with rear paws. That's when they pull the container down.

One of the water containers squirrels have
damaged over the years.
(Margo D. Beller)

They also really, really like apples.

The old apple tree has been showing signs of stress in recent years, ever since I last had it pruned. This year it produced a lot of blossoms, to my surprise, and that means a lot of apples. The tree dropped many apples on its own early on, and the recent strong winds have blown down more. However, usually it is the squirrels that let me know when the apples are ripe. The climbing begins and I must once again try to get as many apples as I can for myself before the squirrels, which are very sloppy eaters. In this current hot and humid weather they have been particularly active, tho' not as bad as the time I came outside and six squirrels jumped out of the tree. Yet.

If I don't pick up what the squirrels drop the deer get them and leave a mess of their own. I throw chewed apples into the corner of the yard near my compost pile.

From 2018. The apple is now showing signs of stress but
it still produces fruit for me ... and the squirrels.
(Margo D. Beller)

I am sure those apples are feeding that fawn that found its way behind my deer fencing. The other week fawn and doe were passing through my backyard and when I came out the fawn took off, running in circles until its mother led it across the street. Did I give it PTSD? Good. It is because of the deer I must struggle under and over and even around the deer fencing around my garden plots.  

These are the most common critters, although this yard has seen the occasional coyote, bear and, too often, cats that must be some neighbors' pets because they look too neat to be feral. I can almost forgive the trouble animals cause me because they are doing what they do in order to survive. The two-legged ones are another matter.

Another Season of Wrens and Apples (and Squirrels)

Right now, on the cusp of July, birdsong is heard once again in my yard.

Apples (Margo D. Beller)

That's because the young that had been protected in their nests by their parents are now flying around after them, begging for food. The parents, in turn, send out contact calls to make sure everyone stays together. Now, about a month after the northbound migrants moved through and the nesting birds went silent, I am hearing songs or calls again: catbird, song sparrow, titmouse, house finch, white-breasted nuthatch, cardinal, assorted woodpeckers. Some of these birds may have second broods, but for now the emphasis is on teaching the first brood to take care of itself.

The house wrens in my yard have also been on the move. Once again I did not see the moment when the young, no doubt cramped in such a small space in hot, humid weather, took off after their parents. On Friday morning, June 23, the parents were busy feeding the young, hanging outside the box except for when one would go inside to clean out the poop. I could see the heads of the young as they came to the opening and looked out. They seemed very agitated.

On Saturday morning, June 24, we had a deluge for the first time in weeks. I stayed inside. When it was over I went outside to pull out stubborn weeds from my front walkway (stubborn because of long taproots, which gave easily in the soggy soil). When I walked to my compost pile to dump them I heard the scolding of a house wren, then the dry, rattle-like calls of young. Sure enough, as I sat to rest on my porch, I watched the nest box and saw no activity. Once again, these birds had flown. 

Empty nest (Margo D. Beller)

My guess is they flew Friday afternoon. Since then they have been moving between my yew hedge and the shrubby area near my compost pile. In fact, today, when I went to that shrubby area to pull out a tree branch to add to my brush pile, five wrens jumped out! A parent and four young? Two parents and three young? All young? I don't know. I quickly left the area and they settled down.

Here is a video I found that shows five wrens fledging. (The video lasts about five minutes. The site is not associated with mine.)  

Meanwhile, the apple tree has brought forth a prodigious amount of fruit, right on time. I am usually busy picking apples from late June into early July. People I know with their own apple trees think it odd that my apples are not ready for harvest in the fall. However, doing a bit of searching, I found that there are many types of early apple varieties. I'm not sure which of them is mine.

Starting last week, I was knocking apples down with an extension pole because thanks to the tree pruning in January the lower, more easily reached branches are gone. I've managed to fill a bucket with enough apples for me to make apple sauce, when I get around to it. For now, the fruit is stored in my cellar.

(Margo D. Beller)

The squirrels always seem to know when the apples are ripe and they have been eating the fruit regularly. I am also making regular visits, but to dispose of what they've eaten and dropped before the deer (or bear?) can get to it. Sometimes there is even fruit for me. I cut into one of the apples I picked up today and it doesn't taste particularly sweet - almost all the apples are on the green side - but for a hungry or thirsty squirrel they will do.

I have taken down what large fruit I can reach. I must now depend on squirrels, or one of the many intense thunderstorms we've been suffering through this week, to knock down any other apples. Then I must get them before the deer.

Treed squirrel (Margo D. Beller)

It is gratifying to me that, after all these years, the apple tree continues to produce despite heavy pruning (and whacking at the branches by me). I'm sure the squirrels are happy about it, too. We'll all enjoy it while it lasts.

Dear Birder,

I don't get questions from my readers, but if I did they might look like this:

Dear Birder:

My neighbor has spent the last week having some very tall, very old trees cut down in her backyard and one in her front yard. Why would someone want to take down so many trees at once?

Perplexed

My cut tree
(Margo D. Beller

Dear Perplexed:

There could be many reasons why. Perhaps these were ash trees infected with the emerald ash borer, the reason I had a dead tree removed earlier this month. Perhaps the homeowner was afraid a strong wind or snow storm would bring one or more of them down on the house. Perhaps the owner is putting in a swimming pool or a deluxe playset for the kids and the trees were in the way. Or the owner got tired of picking up fallen branches.

It is not YOUR backyard so ignore the devastation. Put up more feeders to attract the birds the cutting down has displaced.

Dear Birder:

My feeder has two sides but when certain birds come they fight each other over one side. Why can't they share the feeder?

Wondering

Dear Wondering:

Far be it from me to decipher the thinking of birds. You do not say what type(s) of bird. There are some that are more territorial than others. White-breasted nuthatches, for instance. They are small but feisty and if another one or even a larger bird of a different type tries to get to the feeder the first will chase off the second. I have found hummingbirds to be the same way when I hang a nectar feeder.

Nuthatch on the feeder
about to chase off a
titmouse. (Margo D. Beller)

Cardinals will spend more time chasing each other away than eating, unless it is a pair. A pair, during mating season, will sit on either side of my house-shaped feeder but another male or another female approaching will get chased off. So I can't tell you why your birds fight. Maybe hanging more feeders farther apart will help.

Dear Birder:

This year I have a lot of juncos coming to my seed feeders. Last year I had very few. Why do I get a lot some year and none at other times?

Watching

Dear Watching: 

I wonder about that myself. I think a lot depends on the wind and weather during the migration period. Maybe when the juncos were heading south from the breeding grounds to your yard (the males stay farther north than the females; in my yard I see only male juncos) the winds were favorable and there was a lot of food (such as from your feeders) to encourage juncos to stick around.

Junco (Margo D. Beller)

I have been seeing fewer cardinals and white-throated sparrows and more house finches, at least those few times during the workday when I can look outside. But as we used to say in Brooklyn, wait til next year.

Dear Birder:

How are Spruce and the apple tree doing? We haven't heard from them in a while.

A big fan

Dear Fan,

Earlier this month, when I was writing about the trees I had trimmed back or cut down, I wrote about the apple tree. She had not been pruned back in about a decade. I think she looks better now. Gone are the web of lower branches where I used to hang the house wren nest box. Gone are the very high branches where I'd leave the apples for the squirrels.

How the apple tree looks now
(Margo D. Beller)

However, she has not talked to me yet. It will be a few months before any apple blossoms appear, and with the blossoms will come fruit. The last time she was cut back (not as drastically as this time) she provided a lot of apples. This time, with fewer branches, I don't know. I hope she will talk to me.

As for Spruce, he is standing tall and looks very healthy. He provides winter roosting spots for juncos, chickadees and titmice. It is too early to know if a finch, for instance, will try to nest in him this year after I cut back the arborvitae, where I always seemed to disturb something when I opened the front door.

Spruce Bringsgreen
(Margo D. Beller)

I will pass along your good wishes. Maybe he will write another post for me soon.

Apples and Wrens, Yet Again

In my yard, the apple tree and the house wren nest box are forever linked, and not just because until two years ago the box was in that tree. From late June into July, both are busy with young. In the tree's case, that means a lot of ripe, edible apples drawing squirrels, insects and birds. For the birds, it means the parent wrens taking turns flying to the box to feed their chicks.

House wren feeding young, 2022 (Margo D. Beller)

For the past two weeks, the young - two? three? Can't be much more in that small box - have grown. I know this because now when a wren comes to the box, the sounds of begging are loud enough for me to hear without opening a porch window. The parent can't get inside. It flies to the opening and whichever chick has muscled its way to the front gets the insect meal. 

As for the old tree, last year there was so much rain we had an abundance of apples, so many I had to sort what I picked (or picked up when the squirrels dropped them so the deer didn't get any) and put the ones I knew I wouldn't use in a corner of the yard for the critters. Even then I made several quarts of apple sauce. This year, either because there has been less rain or the squirrels took advantage of my being away for five days on vacation, there have been fewer apples in a good condition to use, enough for one pail rather than my larger apple basket. I intend to use what I have and leave none for the critters. If I'm lucky, by the time I cut off the bad parts and cook the good ones, I'll get one quart out of all of them.

Two of the last apples of 2022. A squirrel later got one of them.
(Margo D. Beller)

Some years, things get out of whack between the nesting and the fruiting. There have been years when the squirrels started going into the tree earlier, in mid-June, for the juicy apples because we were in an unusually hot stretch. In those years I would be concerned the squirrels would disturb the wren sitting on eggs and the tree would survive the drought. There have been other years when the young wrens have fledged before apples were ready to be picked. Some years the tree would not have many flowers in the spring, and that would be a year when I would not be making much apple sauce, if at all. 

It was during a plentiful year that I had to use an extension pole to knock down apples if I wanted to use any, thus disturbing the wrens as much as the squirrels. That was when I decided to move the nest box to the dogwood on the other side of the yard, which also allowed me to watch the wren activity more easily.

(Margo D. Beller)

Any day now I expect to bring my morning coffee to the porch and see no feeding and hear no begging. Every so often I've been hearing one of the parents calling from a shrub, trying to draw out its young. At the moment they are, like a lot of young nowadays, happy to stay at home. Why go out when Mom or Dad brings me what I need?

However, unlike their human counterparts, the wrens' brains are hardwired to continue the species. At some point instinct will kick in and they will leave box, learn how to fly and feed themselves, and then leave in late fall for their winter grounds. If they survive the trip, they'll fly north next spring to pair up, find a suitable nesting spot, mate and make more young. 

As usual, I hope at least two of them will be in my yard.

Location, Location, Location

In the dawn's gray light, the house wren begins his bubbly, incessant territorial song. He is better than an alarm clock. I listen through the open window, thinking of how I had hoped to sleep in later. Then I remember, I am lucky to be hearing a wren singing at all.

Wren nest box in its new location.
(Margo D. Beller)

Once again the changes in my yard came fast when winter was finally over. Where once the sun would hit me as I sat on my enclosed porch, now the light is filtered through oak and maple leaves. The sun's arc is now wide enough that my chair gets hit by the early and late sun. 

Besides the tree leaves, the shrubs, lawn and perennials came back with a vengeance. The back garden bed I had re-netted after taking off the protective burlap and cutting back the yew shrubs and the other plants quickly filled with fresh leaves and bright pink and purple flowers on the geraniums, coral bells and columbine. In the front yard, the azeleas, lillies and rhododendron were the best I've seen in years thanks to all the rain we had in the spring. Even Spruce Bringsgreen was covered in fresh blue-green foliage.

On May 7 I was still wrapping the pots of peppers I had put out front in plastic sheeting to protect them from the overnight cold. On May 9 we had a heavy rain. On May 10 the yard was filled with warblers, vireos and even a Swainson's thrush. All of them couldn't continue north to their breeding areas because of the bad weather. The birds were in my yard to take advantage of the oak seeds and insects. They fed and sang for only a day or so before continuing on their way.

But not all the migrants left. Some like to stay in my yard. Earlier this month there were still white-throated sparrows calling and singing their "Sam Peabody" song in my yard, where they had spent the winter. Then the catbirds started arriving. Now those sparrows are gone (but will be back next winter) and the catbirds fill the void with their activity and singing.

Back plot filled with blooming
geraniums, coral bells and 
columbine, with feeder.
(Margo D. Beller)

And then there is the migrant bird I watch for every year, the house wren. Every year I hang a wooden nest box in a tree, hoping a pair will use it to have a brood. Sometimes a wren pair will take over the nest box immediately. Some years it takes a little longer. 

Until this year the box was always hung in my apple tree. Last year I had planned on putting it in another location because when the tree is full of apples it is also full of squirrels, other birds and me trying to knock down as many apples as I can for my own use. The wrens would be disturbed. Two years ago there had been plenty of apples. 

But in 2020 I had forgotten my plan and hung the box in the apple tree as usual. However, in the year of the coronavirus the apple did not put out as many flowers to form fruit, so the picking was done by the time the wrens were feeding their young.

This year I did not forget, and I learned there are some differences using a dogwood instead of an apple tree.

Once I read the first reports of house wrens in my area I hung the box on what I thought was a sturdy branch. But the next strong wind had the box swinging wildly, something that didn't happen in the more densely branched apple tree. Luckily, the dogwood had another set of branches that made a natural V where the box could be hung more securely. 

Then I waited. 

Rhododendron (Margo D. Beller)

On May 4, I heard a house wren singing in the backyard. As I watched from the porch he investigated the box. Then he left. Later that day I was on the porch, looked at the box and was horrified to realize the hinged side that allows me to get in there to clear the nest after the birds have flown south for the winter was hanging open! I quickly got my ladder to climb up and shut the box tight so a bird would want to use it.

That's how things stood until May 9 when another house wren came singing into the yard. This one was more promising. He checked out all the feeders, flew into the dogwood and into the box. He stayed around the yard for a few days and at one point I heard the scolding call of his mate answering him. But on May 13 I realized there was no singing, no birds.

On May 15 I went to the box, intending to take it down and put it in the apple tree, even tho' this is shaping up to be another good year for apples. Then I saw the tell-tale twig sticking out from the box, signifying "this is taken." Was it from the pair? Would they be back? I left the box alone. But there was only silence for nearly a week.

Spruce Bringsgreen in his spring coat.
(Margo D. Beller)

On May 21, another male house wren was in the dogwood singing. He went into and out of the box and stayed in the yard all day. The next day he was back singing and his mate was making trips into the box with nesting material. Was this the pair from the other week? I don't know, but this time it looks like they are staying.

The dogwood leaves shade the box from the sun for most of the day (tho' the foliage is not as thick as it is in the apple tree) and the only things to possibly disturb the wrens are catbirds and others that happen to fly to a dogwood branch for some reason. Squirrels wouldn't be interested now, tho' they might be later in the season if there are dogwood fruits, which are small and red and won't be ripe enough to eat until after the wrens have finished their breeding and left the yard. Right now the squirrels are distracted by the apples that are growing and will soon be all over the yard, attracting deer.

As it was in the apple tree, the box is high enough in the dogwood to be free from danger while not so high that I have difficulty putting it up or taking it down. The box is sturdy despite years of dings. It is a good home in a very good location. 

That's why, as of today, Mr. Wren is still singing that bubbly, incessant song in the gray light of dawn. 

Apple Tree Watching

You can observe a lot by just watching.
              -- Yogi Berra

The squirrel walks through the long grass stealthily, gets close to the apple tree, then leaps to the main trunk. It is a small squirrel, so let us presume it is a female. She climbs up the trunk into thicker canopy until she appears on one of the smaller branches as she climbs to the top of the tree. She raises her head and sniffs as she seeks an apple.

(Margo D. Beller)

Nearby, a house wren sings, warning his mate of the potential danger. She is in the nest box hanging in this tree. On this cool, early morning she is sitting on eggs, fed occasionally by her mate. She's not going anywhere unless the squirrel shakes the branches and jostles the nest box while looking for apples. A flicker explores the nooks and crannies of the wooden flood wall at the edge of the yard, and a family of noisy titmice are in the oak trees, following a parent around and begging for food.

The squirrel, meanwhile, has gone up one branch, found nothing and then backtracked to climb another branch. Finally, again near the top, she snares a small apple and climbs down to eat it sitting in the crotch made by two thicker branches. 

2020 crop (Margo D. Beller)

She is hidden from most people (and predators) but I know where she is because I have been sitting in my chair in a corner of my patio and watching her progress. I know what will happen and I am not proved wrong. She finishes her breakfast and drops the core with just enough apple on it to draw the interest of a chipmunk, perhaps a bird, more likely a deer that passes through the yard later. 

That's why I go pick it up and toss it into a corner of the yard to keep deer out of this area so near to my plants.

Now, a second squirrel approaches and climbs. When it is up a ways I walk to the tree and look up. The squirrel freezes. We look at each other, then I step back and the second squirrel jumps down and rushes away. The first one, meanwhile, is so high up I have to walk back somewhat to see it. She seems to know I am not the type to climb trees. She will be looking in this tree a while because there are not many apples in it this year.

Unusual for an apple tree, mine produces fruit in late June going into July. If all things were "normal" the apples would get bigger, redder, sweeter and I'd have three weeks to go out at dawn and dusk to gather them before the squirrels and deer.

Plenty of blossoms earlier this year. (Margo D. Beller)

Last year, we had a bumper crop both of apples and squirrels, sometimes as many as six at a time in the tree, all dropping partially eaten apples.

But in this year of coronavirus, which has changed everything about life as we know it, the apple tree blossomed beautifully in spring but did not put out a lot of fruit. The coronavirus has nothing to do with it, but it seems apt that this year would turn out to be a bust year. 

Many trees go through booms and busts. In my yard that also includes oaks, elms and locusts. Last year was very good for oak acorns. They fell to the lawn continuously as the squirrels climbed along the branches. Some would sound like gunshots when they hit the metal porch roof. I left them alone for a while until I started putting out feeders again in the autumn and it was hard walking on the acorns (or their caps, once the nut was removed). I raked up as many as I could and put them into a corner of the yard behind the compost pile. They are still there.

What the squirrels are dropping nowadays.
(Margo D. Beller)

According to John C. Kricher and Gordon Morrison, authors of the "Peterson Field Guide to Eastern Forests," many types of trees in the temperate zone, which includes New Jersey, have "mast" years when seed production is higher than usual.

Why? "Masting is probably an adaptation to aid the trees in escaping the potential ravages of seed predators. By alternating between occasional bumper crops and more usual poor crops, trees conserve energy, enabling them in a given year to produce more seeds than all seed predators combined could ever hope to eat," they write.

So the apple tree might be taking a breather this year to protect itself.

Unfortunately, it is too easy to underestimate the importance of trees, their ability to clean the air and provide shade and food. About 36 million trees a year are cut down, according to one report. I know I see enough of that destruction in suburbia when a tree that took several decades to grow is taken down, hunk by hunk, in a day. (Was the tree sick, planted in the wrong place or just in the way? Who knows?)

Meanwhile, those that need acorns (or apples) to survive, breed and feed young (squirrels, jays and other birds) are going to have a harder time of it this year, as will the raptors that feed on those animals. When snowy owls or rough-legged hawks can't find their favorite small mammals in their northern breeding territories because the population has "crashed," they fly farther south to find food. That is known as an irruption year. Smaller birds that depend on cone and other seed crops can have irruption years, too, including both types of crossbills, pine grosbeaks and redpolls, to the delight of the bird-watching community. 

Gone for now, but it - or a descendant - will be back next year. (Margo D. Beller_

But that's winter. Right now, in June, I was only able to pick 10 apples this year, but I am happy to be relieved of the annual routine of chasing off deer, picking up chewed apples, trying to find apples I could use and then the long process of cutting off the bad stuff and making apple sauce with the rest. As for the squirrels, they have turned their attention to getting other things to eat, including gathering oak acorns. What is falling so far this year are shrunken and not nearly big enough to feed them, much less a family.  

Most happily, this year I won't be going around the tree smacking ripe apples with an extension pole and agitating the house wrens in the nest box. Once the squirrels get the last few apples from the very top of the tree (where I couldn't get at them anyway), that's it until next year. And next year the nest box is going into another tree.