Again At Midsummer

Nearly a year ago I wrote a post about what was going on in my yard. In many ways things are the same and things are different this year.

Cherries in various stages of ripeness (Margo D. Beller)

After the house wren family dispersed, I waited to see if another wren would use the nest box. It took five days - not one like last year - for a male to investigate and start singing around my yard. But nothing much happened. No female showed up. Several times the wren would fly to the box but then would leave.

Finally, I investigated. I found the opening to the box was plugged with nesting material for a house sparrow. Neither the nest nor the sparrow would be able to fit through the small opening so the bird gave up. I knew it was a house sparrow because of the nest material. House wrens use twigs. According to the bird experts at Cornell, house sparrows use "coarse dried vegetation, often stuffed into the hole until it’s nearly filled. The birds then use finer material, including feathers, string, and paper, for the lining." They also steal other birds' nests for their own.

I pulled the mess out of the opening but by then it was too late. It takes many weeks for a wren to find a mate, for her to sit on the eggs and raise the young. Southbound migration is only a month or so away. I've heard no  house wren song in my yard, tho' I've heard them elsewhere. I'll take the nest box down soon.

One of many robins in the cherry tree (Margo D. Beller)

Last year the apple tree did not lose its leaves for some time. This year its yellowed leaves are scattered below. The last apple was taken by a squirrel near the middle of June, nearly a month earlier than in the past. The tree survived its surgery but has been hit, as has the rest of my garden, with high winds, searing heat, thick humidity, the occasional flooding downpour and, now, wildfire smoke. Unlike me, it was not affected by the nearly three days we were without power over the July 4 weekend because of hurricane-force winds and hours of rain. Global warming? You be the judge.

The heat and humidity has kept me from doing much in the way of gardening, and the weeds have been taking advantage. But also taking advantage is a cherry tree at the edge of my yard.

I didn't plant this tree. I don't know if a previous owner did or if it sprang up from a dropped seed. This tree's growth was blocked for years by a nearby apple tree and the giant ash tree, both of which I cut down for different reasons. Once those trees were gone the cherry tree got plenty of light and so jumped in height and spread out. This year it was covered in flowers and now is covered in cherries. These are small and sour (yes, I tried a few) and the families of grackles, robins, catbirds and other fruit-eating birds love them.

The cherry tree trunk is the smaller one to the left.
(Margo D. Beller)

The nearby viburnum's berries are currently green but will, I hope, soon turn red. So will the dogwood's fruit. The privet shrubs will soon have their own berries. All of these will feed the birds as they get ready to head south for the winter.

It is hard to believe some birds are already migrating, such as male hummingbirds - which is why the trumpet vines and jewelweeds are flowering for them. At my house I've twice caught sight of a hummingbird investigating flowers but no birds have been inclined to use the feeder I have out, as far as I know.

There are plenty of birds that breed in my area, meaning their spring migration north stopped in my yard or in local parks that provided them with food, water and a protected place to breed. Hearing them singing or flying around gives me something to enjoy when I go out early in the morning nowadays. And there are plenty of fruiting and seeding plants out there - including weeds - that will feed those birds and the others later in the summer when it's time for them to leave.

Snow More

So far this year 2025 has been filled with cold, snow and ice. And yet, according to my home state of New Jersey, January was one of the driest in history.

Says NJ.com about January, "Many areas of the Garden State have picked up less than an inch of total precipitation so far this month. That includes rain and all the liquid from melted snow and sleet, according to data from the National Weather Service." 

Scene from a recent snowstorm
(Margo D. Beller)

It was also very cold for a number of days. According to NOAA, "For those living in the southern, central, or eastern parts of the nation—who might have forgotten what winter could be like following last winter’s record-warmth—Mother Nature provided a hard-hitting reminder during January. Temperatures averaged below normal from coast-to-coast during the month, but periodic intrusions of Arctic air were most prevalent into the central and eastern U.S." 

Now, it's February. As I write the temperature is above freezing and it is raining. Our last snowstorm the other week dropped three inches of snow and one of ice, making it harder to shovel the front and back paths. Since then temperatures have risen above freezing during the day and then dropped at night, freezing the snow and making it more hazardous to get to the bird feeders. It is miserable out and, unless everything is washed away, it will continue to be icy for days.

According to NOAA again: The temperature outlook favors well above average temperatures across the southern and eastern parts of the nation, as well as in northern and western Alaska. Below-average temperatures are favored across parts of the northern and western U.S., as well as in southeastern Alaska. The precipitation outlook favors well above average precipitation in the Pacific Northwest, Northern Rockies, around the Great Lakes, in the Ohio and Tennessee Valleys, in the Northeast, and in western and northern Alaska, with below-average precipitation favored only in parts of the Southwest and Florida. (emphasis added) 

One of the redtail hawks I've seen near my house.
(Margo D. Beller)

The birds do not seem to mind all this strange weather. Several times I have seen a pair of redtail hawks flying around and landing in trees near my house. At this time of year they would be pairing, mating, creating a nest and having a brood. I have not found the nest yet, but I haven't had much opportunity to go out looking for it. (I haven't found a nest since 2012.)

In weather like this, when it is either raining heavily or extremely windy, the feeders are inside and the smaller birds have to fend for themselves. I don't like this but I can't fly over the ice to get to the poles, and the rain rots the seed.

Unfortunately, there is another reason for keeping them inside - one of the local squirrels has figured out how to jump on the baffle on one of the feeder poles and grab hold of the long feeder I put out after big snowstorms. (It holds more seed and I don't have to worry about leaving it out overnight because the bears are hibernating, but that will end in March.) The last time there was so much snow and ice the squirrels couldn't get to their stashes and the birds didn't drop enough for them to eat was in February 2014. That was a bad winter. The squirrels used the ice atop the snow piles as a step. This year the snow is a bit less but the one squirrel (who might be a female eating for six) is just as desperate.

This was from 2014. The feeder is the same, the
squirrel far different. (Margo D. Beller)

I used to like snow, until I became a homeowner who had to shovel it or pay someone to plow it from the driveway. Snow looks pretty until it starts to melt or, as is currently the case, gets rained upon. We have had more snow this month than we've had the last two winters. That's a good thing considering last September's drought but even with all the rain and snow we've had, my region of New Jersey is considered severely dry. Other areas are worse.

Thanks to climate change my area of the country has had milder winters with little in the way of snow, which contributed to the drought. What we're getting now is more "normal," though historically we are still getting far less snow than when I was a child. 

So, much as I hate to say it, I can only hope for more snow, ice and rain to ease the drought, and enough dryness in between to feed the birds.

A Life or Death Decision

Believe it or not, the plant pictured below was once small enough to sit comfortably on a desk. When the person who had that desk left the job, she left the plant behind. My first mistake was I took it home. My second mistake was putting it in a bigger pot. It grew and grew.

When it got bigger I wondered if pinching it would make it bush out. So I cut the top. Boy, was I wrong. It created a two-headed monster that got bigger still. Eventually I cut off the weaker of the two heads, but that created a long, skinny plant that needed to be braced in order for it to stand upright.

(Margo D. Beller)

Getting it into the house before winter and getting it to my enclosed porch before summer has been an increasing hassle as I age. To move it now I have a small handtruck with bungee cord, the best $29 purchase I've ever made, But even here I still need my husband (MH) to hold the pot as I pull it either up or down the step from porch to house and the three to the front room where I keep my plants in the winter.

Why do I mention all this? Because of the fungus gnats, which have continued.

When enough adults and nymphs got stuck to the yellow sticky traps I decided the time had come to do something radical. I bought potting soil. I spread a tarp on the porch and dumped old soil from five of the six plants into a styrofoam box, then repotted the plants in fresh soil. I quickly took them into the house and even put some yellow sticky traps in them in case I missed a gnat.

At that point, with the table I keep out there empty of plants, I pulled up the half-filled bag of sunflower seeds - and discovered it full of gnats.

Some people would've fainted at the sight of this infestation. Some would have screamed for help. I grabbed the bag and pulled it outside, then opened and started kicking it to get gnats to leave. Then I checked the old coffee containers holding seed. More gnats and a lot of rot. Out they went. The bag of seed is in a trash bag. The seed in the containers is in a garbage bag. Both are now on the patio. The box was taped and put near the compost pile until I decide what to do with it.

One of the containers and the seed in it were clean. The other containers had to be washed for recycling. I put three of them, empty, back on the porch for possible use. I'm hoping some of the seeds in the bag are clean enough to use until I buy a fresher - smaller - bag of seed for the feeders this winter.

That leaves the big plant. It is too big and trussed up for me to pull out of the pot easily to put in new soil. For now, I have a time-released water feeder in the pot so the majority of the top soil can stay too dry to support eggs. There are yellow sticky traps and vinegar traps in the pot and both types have been effective. 

Sticky traps, vinegar traps in the cups (with clear wrap
on top) and glass water feeder.
(Margo D. Beller)

I still find the occasional gnat and there is always the fear one will get into the house and infect the plants. So I have to decide: somehow pull out the plant, change the soil and bring it inside; leave the plant either outside or on the porch over the cold winter and watch it fade and die; or cut it down now, dump out the pot and hope my gnat problem is finally over.

I hate the idea of killing a living plant, especially one that I've had for at least 14 years. It wasn't its fault that when I gave it suitable conditions it went from a desk plant to a tree. Over the years through trial and error - mostly error - I've learned which plants to pinch, which to keep moist and which to leave alone. Like my evolving outdoor garden, my indoor plants have changed over the years. Some die, some are replaced. 

I've never intentionally killed a plant but whether I leave this one out in the cold to die slowly or hack it down now, that is looking more likely. 

No red-bellied woodpeckers at the feeder yet, but one will surely come.
(Margo D. Beller)

Meanwhile, I took seed from the one container that had no rot or gnats and put it in the house feeder. I put the feeder outside. Since then it has drawn cardinals, chickadees, titmice, white-breasted nuthatches, jays, a goldfinch and a house finch. Normally this feeder would've gone out in September (and my plants taken inside in October), but we've had September-like weather this week. Maybe now the feeder will draw some southbound migrant birds I wouldn't have otherwise seen. 

The birds are providing an unexpected benefit from what had been an unmitigated disaster.

The Birds in Winter

It is fortuitous that at the same time when the polar vortex is once again upon us, leaving us with temperatures in the teens (F) despite abundant sunshine, I am reading a book about feeding birds and how this activity went from only in winter to all year. I learned of "The Birds at My Table: Why We Feed Wild Birds and Why It Matters" by Darryl Jones thanks to Cornell's Lab of Ornithology, which also recently published a pdf on "Winter Bird Feeding."

Winter feeder (Margo D. Beller)

I have written much over the years in this blog on birds, feeding them and the harshness of winter (type "seed" into the search box in the upper left corner and you'll see them). As the pdf puts it, "If you feed birds, you’re in good company. Birding is one of North America’s favorite pastimes. A 2011 report from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service estimates that more than 50 million Americans provide food for wild birds."

The report then goes on to remind us all of the importance of helping the birds, what kinds of feeders help which birds the most, feeder placement and the best types of seed and suet to provide, among other considerations. Jones, meanwhile, tries to figure out why we feed wild birds and how the practice of feeding them in winter expanded to all year.

He writes: "The reality is that while wild bird feeding may be a massive enterprise with a global reach, the focus and interest of most individual feeders [the people, not the food implement] is on their own private garden. All those issues and worries may be of provound interest, but unless they affect us directly, they may seem a bit too vague or remote. On the other hand, most feeders are pleased to share their experiences or queries..." Facebook alone has many pages set up by birders in specific regions such as New Jersey and nationwide such as the American Birding Association's reports of rarities across the country.

Watnong Brook, thawing (Margo D. Beller)

But let's go back to bird feeding.

One of my friends puts out seed, suet and peanuts all year. She enjoys watching "her" birds from her bedroom during summer mornings when she is getting ready for work. She puts out liquid for hummingbirds every year, the feeder strategically placed near a pot of bee balm, a known hummer attractant. She used to feed squirrels, too, until they started hitting her bird feeders, including the hummingbird feeder.

I put out seed in fall, when the migrants are moving through, until early spring. In cold times I also put out suet. In midwinter I feel sure no bears will take down my feeders. Otherwise, I take all the feeders in at night. When I see the first reports of hummingbirds in New Jersey, usually after I am no longer putting out seed and suet, I put out sugar water for them. Except for the hummer feeder, which is on a shepherd's crook behind deer netting, the two feeder poles have baffles to keep the squirrels from climbing to the feeders.

My attitude is, when summer comes there are more than enough food sources for the birds and if I want to see them I can leave home for areas where they have been known to show up or have been reported. By late spring it is time to start working in the garden and I am tired of the continual feeding of birds I'd rather not see such as house sparrows. Hummers are another matter: They are hard to find in the wild unless in a garden with a lot of the blooming plants they frequent. Since deer have been known to eat these types of blooms, I don't grow them and provide sugar water instead.

Feeders in winter, before the birds started coming (Margo D. Beller)

Which way is "correct"? Both, depending on the person involved. Some people want to attract or help birds all the time, some want to help during dire conditions, such as the current polar vortex, and leave the birds to fend for themselves and their young during warmer periods. I've been feeding birds for over a decade and am not about to stop even if my feeders bring birds as well as those that feed on them. (Hawks have to eat, too, though I'd prefer it be elsewhere.)

One of the things Jones looks at is whether all this bird feeding is helping or hurting birds. His conclusion is "feeding almost always changes things," but not always in the way we expect. I see many more house finches than titmice nowadays. Cardinals and chickadees must come early to the feeders before the jays arrive and scare them off.

There's more than enough food for all in my yard, but I do wish more people in my neighborhood would join me in this relatively inexpensive bit of conservation that is easy to do and very important.

Feed the birds.

Feeding Time

Cardinal hogging the house feeder (Margo D. Beller)

Most mornings lately I have gone outside with the bird feeders around 7am when it is light but the sun hasn't risen high yet. Usually a male cardinal is sitting in the apple tree. When I prop open the screened door it starts to cheep to its mate, who cheeps back. It has figured out that when I open the door I will soon be out with the feeders - the suet on my right arm, the caged feeder in my right hand, the house feeder in my left. I go out and hang the house feeder on the first pole I pass, then walk to the other one and hang a feeder on each hook.

I go inside for the water cooler. By now the cardinal is on the house feeder but it flies off at my approach. I hang the water cooler on the pear tree and then walk back around the corner of the screened porch and close the door. Sometimes I stand outside and listen to the birds. Usually I hear white-breasted nuthatches and titmice nearby so I know they'll soon be at the feeder.

Titmouse at water cooler (Margo D. Beller)

Other times I go on the porch and sit in my corner and watch the feeders.

As usual, the first birds were able to somehow communicate that food was available. But once all those birds start coming, it is interesting to see what gets to feed first and what forces them away from the feeder.

One reason I have two seed feeders out is the more open house feeder will accommodate two larger birds, one on each side. The caged feeder allows smaller birds to come into the protective cage (the cage is to protect the feeder from squirrels but I have seen small birds protected from predators), perch and eat. Chicadees and titmice will come, take a seed and leave. House finches will perch and keep eating until something, or someone, prompts them to leave.

A cardinal will sit at the house feeder and, like the smaller finches, eat until it is sated or spooked off. When a house finch or sparrow attempts to sit next to it, the cardinal will force it away. But if a comparably large bird, say a jay or a redbelly woodpecker, flies at the feeder, the cardinal departs. Jays and woodpeckers will sit a while but not as long as the thicker-billed cardinal or finch. When the big birds leave, the smaller ones can grab a bite.

Hummingbird feeder with many portals (Margo D. Beller)

Within the group, there is a pecking order. A male house finch will come to the house feeder. It might allow its mate to sit next to him but if another male house finch approaches it will fight it off if it is not the alpha bird but it will leave if the approaching bird is the alpha bird. The top bird always gets to eat. The same is true for other birds. One particularly snowy winter we had four pairs of cardinals coming to the feeder. The alpha pair always ate. If another cardinal was in the vicinity, the male would fly at it to force it away. Later, one of the others would come eat only to have the alpha male chase it off.

The only other thing I've ever seen that forces a cardinal off the feeder is if it is besieged by a lot of smaller birds that will harass it until it leaves

I don't know if this fighting would be avoided if I had many more feeders of different types out. Unfortunately, I don't have many feeders and all but one are not designed to accommodate a large bird like a cardinal.

Hummingbirds have a pecking order, too. When I had two females coming to the feeder in 2016 the more dominant one would always chase off the other. When a male showed up the alpha female would battle it, too, sometimes winning but sometimes flying off. Mind you, the sugar water feeder has several portals so they all could've fed at the same time and even brought over friends. But that's now how the bird brain operates.

Redbelly dominating the house feeder (Margo D. Beller)

The suet feeder draws woodpeckers. If the small downy is on the feeder and sees the larger hairy or redbelliy woodpecker approaching, it leaves fast. If a female downy is on the feeder and a male downy approaches, she's out of there, even if it's her mate. If two male downys are interested in the feeder, the alpha will chase the beta off, feed and then fly off, allowing the beta to eat - presuming the alpha male doesn't chase it off just because it can.

How is it determined which male or pair is the alpha and which isn't? That's another mystery better left to others to figure out.

Tweeting the Birds

We recently had two days of heavy rain and so I kept the feeders indoors because too much water can rot the seeds and then they are useless. After those two days I put the three feeders (two with sunflower seeds, one with suet) out and watched them from my kitchen.

When the snow is thick, food sources are thin aside from feeders.
(Margo D. Beller)

For a long time there was no activity. Then a white-breasted nuthatch came to the house feeder, then a couple of titmice. Then nothing. A white-throated sparrow appeared on the flood wall and then flew to the base of one feeder pole to look for dropped seeds or scratch at the ground. Later, I would see jays fly to a seed feeder, chug down a few seeds and then fly off to trees to cache them in some hiding place for later eating. Then, a male cardinal flew in. Eventually a flock of house sparrows and house finches arrived en masse at the two seed feeders.

How did they know food was available? How do birds communicate that knowledge? I am no scientist but I have some theories based on years of observation.

Chickadee investigating the house feeder. As it darts to
and fro with seed, it will attract the attention of other
birds hungry for seeds - or for feeder birds. (Margo D. Beller)

Theory 1: The birds remember where there are food sources. If they don't find the feeders out one day, they come back and look again later that day or the next. In my yard they will find the feeders out most days until summer comes, when there will be plenty of other food sources.

If they find no food, they must seek it elsewhere. Birds must eat to survive and in winter they can't hang around the yard in hopes something may turn up. That also includes the hawks that know where there are feeders drawing the smaller birds they eat for their own survival.

Theory 2: A big, bright bird, be it a noisy one like a jay or a quiet one like a cardinal, is hard to miss. So if other birds are flying around the area and see that bright color at a feeder, they follow it, sorta like being followed on Twitter.

White-throated sparrow watching the activity at
the feeders. Soon it will fly below
and pick up what other birds drop. (Margo D. Beller)

Theory 3: Speaking of tweeting, some birds are very vocal. There's the shrill "Thief!" call of the jay are the softer "dee, dee, dee" of the chickadee, the sharper variant of the titmouse and the "hank hank" of the white-breasted nuthatch. Other birds hear the calls and investigate. It's the same reason why, when I find a flock of titmice in the woods, I try to look at as many individuals as possible in case something different is flying with them looking for food. That way I've found myrtle warblers and gold-crowned kinglets foraging with the titmice and white-crowned sparrows with their white-throated cousins.

Theory 4: Birds communicate in a way we humans can't do ourselves or possibly understand.  

Likely it's a combination of all the above. Among each species during the breeding time the birds communicate which area is their territory, sing songs to attract mates or call to their young. But hunger is the main driver at this time of year. When there are few insects, birds must rely on weed seeds or those in feeders. Birds spend a lot of time and energy looking for food and in harsh winters many will die. So when they find food, whether they mean to communicate that information or not, the news gets around.

My job is to provide food and alert the birds so I can continue to hear their tweets.