The Backyard Science group regularly features The Daily Bucket . Anyone can note any observations you have made of the world around you. Insects, weather, meteorites, climate, birds, flowers and anything natural or unusual are worthy additions to the Bucket and its comments. Please let us know what is going on around you in a comment. Include, as close as is comfortable for you, where you are located. Each note is a record that we can refer to as we try to understand the patterns that are unwinding around us.
I work at, and roam a golf course west of Portland, Oregon. A recontoured farmers's field, it includes four multi-acre lakes, a handful of bogs, lowlands, wood lots, and expanses of open fields. For 16 years, I've followed the tribulations of the feathered, furry, and finned critters that eke out a life amid its fertilized boundaries. This week I've peered into the details of feathered females who care for their prospective progeny; as they deal with the aftermath of that emotional (or instinct-driven) afternoon or evening when avian desire overcame common sense.
I'll start with the coots. From Google: Coots are medium-sized water birds that are members of the Rallidae (rail) family. They constitute the genus Fulica. Coots have predominantly black plumage, and—unlike many rails—they are usually easy to see, often swimming in open water. They are close relatives of the moorhen.
During the winter, I often see over 100 coots on the course ponds, mostly flocked in a single pond. In the Spring, the coots have generally scattered to all four ponds and begun nesting. I've taken the following pictures at what I call Coot Pond. Cattails envelope most of the 600 yards of Coot Pond shoreline.
(I formerly called Coot Pond, Shiva Pond, because the watery expanse often destroys golfers' dreams.)
A couple of weeks ago, I came up close to a coyote couple on the golf course an hour before dawn. Perhaps as a result, a couple of days ago, I looked over my surroundings with Coyote Eyes.
I carefully watched the coots as they drifted along, pausing at a particular spot, paying a little too much attention. I plunged into the brown dry wall of desiccated cattails, suspecting what I would find.
I advanced by stepping onto masses of cattail roots. The water was a couple of feet deep there.
For years, this looked like nothing more than dead cattails to me. Now I realize it is actually Home Depot for birds; the hummingbirds grab the cattail fluff for their nests, and the coots and ducks build nests from the cattail stocks.
For the first time, I actually saw a coot's nest with a half-dozen eggs. I admired its cleverness; like a teepee, with a flattened middle. I hope you can see it too, below dead center in this picture. I'm using the Lighthouse mode, so you can click on the pic for better resolution.
However, I felt disturbed, watching the coots' reaction. The coots seemed oddly accepting of the prospective loss of their nest, even appearing to bow their necks as they swam nearby.
The coots' reaction contrasts sharply, of course, with the killdeers' reaction after my Coyote eyes schemed out the nest site of the "wounded" killdeer at another location, a half mile to the east, on the edge of Buffie Pond. In that instance, the killdeer frantically attempt to distract my Coyote eyes from seeing their 4-egg nest, shown in the 2nd picture.
I rarely find the killdeers nesting in a hidden place like this. More often, they nest on hardpan, rather than vegetated surroundings. I imagine they are learning to better conceal their eggs.
The picture of the "wounded" killdeer actually shows, to the left above the woundee, yet another killdeer that came to pester me when I approached the couples' nest. I wonder if that possibly another sign of the killdeers' adaptation; mutual defense.
My final picture is from another location, where an inexperienced mallard attempted to nest far away from the water and the cattail barriers. I found the broken eggs; it's a story too sad to continue.
That's the end of my story about the fears of these feathered mothers; the anxiety, in one instance realized, that their young ones could be lost to the whims of predators. As a parent, I know some of the feeling. As a father rather than a mother, I do not know it all.
Now it's your turn, readers, and hopefully your days are free of these and any other anxieties.
"Green Diary Rescue" is Back!
After a hiatus of over 1 1/2 years, Meteor Blades has revived his excellent series. As MB explained, this weekly diary is a "round-up with excerpts and links... of the hard work so many Kossacks put into bringing matters of environmental concern to the community... I'll be starting out with some commentary of my own on an issue related to the environment, a word I take in its broadest meaning."
"Green Diary Rescue" will be posted every Saturday at 1:00 pm Pacific Time on the Daily Kos front page. Be sure to recommend and comment in the diary.