Tuesday, June 18, 2013

ACCIPITERS IN A MUSEUM


Sharp-shinned Hawk (Accipiter striatus), Cooper’s Hawk (A. cooperii) and Northern Goshawk (A. gentilis) are three hawks of different sizes that are basically quite similar to one another. They are at home in wooded country, where they nest and usually forage. However, during migration, all three can be seen in open country, and all three can be seen at any time flying overhead, above the forest canopy.

All three eat primarily birds, and all three have relatively short, rounded wings and relatively long tails, useful aerodynamically as they chase their prey through the vegetation. All fly with a rapid flapping flight, interspersed with short glides.

The two smaller species, Sharp-shinned and Cooper’s, have become relatively common in urban/suburban settings, where they find abundant bird life, especially where people concentrate the birds by feeding them. So the hawks that appear in people’s yards are often one of these two species. The larger Northern Goshawk tends to stay in large tracts of conifer forests in wilderness areas.

People have trouble distinguishing the species, especially the two smaller ones, and there have been volumes written about the identification of accipiter hawks in North America. These Slater Museum specimens are put forward to furnish would-be identifiers a better idea of the relative sizes of the sexes and species. The study skins were chosen to be representative.


The first photo shows immatures of both species, the smaller males on the left and females on the right for each species. The size differences are quite apparent, and a female Cooper’s is very much larger than a male Sharp-shinned, but there is a steady gradient from one sex and then one species to the next. You can see that a female Sharp-shinned is as close in size to a male Cooper’s as it is to a male Sharp-shinned.

Immatures of the two species differ on average in the markings on their underparts, with Cooper’s tending to have finer, more distinct streaks and Sharp-shinned broader, blurrier streaks, often with some barring on the sides. Nevertheless, you can see that there is much variation. The best mark, if there is any doubt about the size, is the tail, more graduated in Cooper’s (outermost feathers substantially shorter than the central ones).

The second photo shows the same species as adults, in this case with only one female Cooper’s. Note first the difference in the tail shape. There is really no difference in the ventral color pattern. The final photo shows the upper sides of the same birds. Note the difference in color in the sexes, the males with distinctly bluer upperparts, as well as the better-defined dark cap of the Cooper’s. The male Cooper’s on the left is growing in a new central rectrix.

Dennis Paulson

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

YAQUINA HEAD, PARADISE LOST?


The islands off Yaquina Head in Oregon have always been just right for nesting seabirds. Isolation from the mainland gives them safety from mammalian predators, a very important feature for colonial birds. Colonies of nesting birds would be sure to attract predators such as coyotes, foxes, raccoons, and other carnivorous mammals, but apparently most of these mammals are not inclined to swim to offshore islands, so birds that nest on these islands are relatively safe.

These are scenes from Yaquina Head on 6 May 2011. A great colony of Common Murres has been there for many years, occupying the tops of several of the islands. In addition, large numbers of Brandt’s Cormorants nest among the murres and on lower ledges, and Pelagic Cormorants and Pigeon Guillemots fill in other parts of the islands.

The colony was flourishing during our visit, probably several thousand murres and good numbers of the other species. But the colony faced threats like never before. Bald Eagles have continued to increase every year since the banning of DDT in North America, and they are proving very effective predators on colonial nesting birds. Once the birds began to lay eggs, eagles disturbed the colony daily, taking both adult and young murres as well as eggs, and the massive disturbances caused by their presence enabled crows, ravens and gulls to take additional eggs and young.

Unexpectedly, Brown Pelicans proved almost as great a threat. Immature birds, not old enough to return to breeding colonies, stayed at Yaquina Head through the summer and visited the murre colony regularly. Walking and flapping through the colony, they picked up dropped fish and then began picking up young birds to get them to disgorge their fish. If that wasn’t enough, they also began to swallow the chicks whole. Many more chicks fell from their nesting ledges and drowned in the surf. Further disturbance was caused by Turkey Vultures that visited the colony.

During 372 hours of monitoring the colony in 2011, observers from the Hatfield Marine Science Center recorded 186 disturbance events, during which 1034 eggs, 142 chicks, and 70 adult murres were taken. Depredation rates were three to ten times higher than in previous years. Researchers estimated that no more than 28% of murre pairs successfully raised chicks to fledging age. Cormorants, much more spread out and with larger chicks, appeared to suffer much less mortality.

Interestingly, not only Bald Eagles but also Brown Pelicans and Turkey Vultures are increasing in the Pacific Northwest in recent years, perhaps all as a result of the removal of DDT from the environment. A new balance may be struck as one set of species becomes less common as previously rare species increase. How will we protect the murres now that we have protected their predators?

Dennis Paulson

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

YES, WE HAVE VULTURES


We often think of vultures as big, ominous-looking birds sitting around the carcass of a lion-killed wildebeest in Kenya or lined up on rooftops next to a garbage dump in South America. But we have our own carrion-eating vulture in the Pacific Northwest, the Turkey Vulture (Cathartes aura).

Turkey Vultures occur throughout the tropical and temperate parts of the New World, from southern Canada to Tierra del Fuego. Those at the northern end of the range, in Canada and northern US, are migratory. Tremendous numbers of Turkey Vultures migrate through Mexico and Central America. The vulture migration over Panama in October has almost reached the status of a tourist attraction, as the birds wheel and climb above the high-rise towers of Panama City in the fall, along with Swainson’s and Broad-winged Hawks.

They return to Washington from their tropical wintering grounds in late March and April to occupy nest sites on cliff ledges or in broken-off hollow trees or other dark recesses, usually in remote areas well away from human disturbance. They lay 2 eggs that they incubate for about 40 days. The young remain in and near the nest for up to three months after hatching. Oddly, although commonly seen in the air, they are almost never seen at road kill, very different from the situation farther south.

These vultures are very often seen early in the morning perched with wings outspread, apparently to dry them out. Why this is so common in vultures and doesn't occur so much in other large soaring birds may be a mystery we never solve.

Turkey Vultures fly with their wings held up in a dihedral angle, which it turns out adds stability in turbulent air. They often fly close to the ground, so this is of great importance. As a wind current hits one side, that wing tilts up and the other down. As it tilts down, it approaches the horizontal, where lift is maximal, and that stabilizes it. Watch a vulture in windy conditions and see how it tilts from side to side.

Unlike most other vultures, Turkey Vultures have a well-developed olfactory sense. Field experiments have shown that they can find something as small as a dead mouse by its smell, even under a closed forest canopy. Watch a Turkey Vulture quartering on the wind, going back and forth as first one nostril and then the other picks up the smell of a carcass from upwind. By going back and forth as the smell gets stronger and weaker, they eventually home in on the spot.

At lower latitudes, where Black Vultures are abundant, they may use Turkey Vultures as their carcass finders, watching individuals of the other species and following them to the ground. The Blacks are also watching each other, so the stimulus from a descending bird spreads outward, probably for quite a distance. Blacks dominate Turkeys, so the Turkeys must be quick to take advantage of a “fresh” meal. In the forested tropics, the much rarer big white King Vultures may finally appear and scatter all the lesser birds.


Turkey Vultures have actually increased in the PNW in recent years, for reasons unknown. Are there more dead animals now? Are they being more successful on their wintering grounds? Were they reduced by DDT like so many other raptors and are still recovering? In any case, they are masters of the air and a pleasure to see in the sky.

Dennis Paulson

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

LITHOSOLS AND THEIR SPRING BEAUTY


In the Miocene, about 17 million years ago, great lava flows spread across the interior of the Pacific Northwest, year after year and flow after flow, reaching depths of 6000 feet in some places. As the molten rock cooled, it left very extensive areas of basalt. Some of these rocky areas remain as cliffs, too steep to support soil. In the flatter areas, breakdown of the bedrock produces shallow volcanic soils supporting steppe and shrub-steppe habitats.

Where the soil remains shallow and rocky, there is a rich and diverse plant community, often dominated by scabland sagebrush (Artemisia rigida) and grasses. Even though they remain hot and dry for much of the year, in the spring these lithosols come alive with wildflowers, as do the sandy soils around them dominated by big sagebrush (Artemisia tridentata).

Two of the most showy lithosol species are Simpson’s hedgehog cactus (Pediocactus simpsonii) and bitterroot (Lewisia rediviva). Both of them can be locally abundant on rocky soils in the Northwest interior, adding splashes of pink or red to a landscape that features all the flower colors of the rainbow.

The cactus is typical of its group, with a deep taproot that gathers limited water and nutrients, a succulent stem protected from herbivores by fierce spines, and no leaves. The showy flowers are produced in spring when the bees that pollinate them are most likely to be active in this hot, dry environment. Many other small insects feed on the pollen and/or nectar but are probably not effective pollinators.

Bitterroot is stemless and leafless, the clumps of flowers growing up from a fleshy taproot that anchors the plant firmly among the rocks. This may be another strategy to avoid herbivory—put most energy into reproduction without supporting photosynthetic leaves that are attractive to plant-eaters. The only thing edible on the plant, the succulent root system, is well protected in the soil, but Native Americans ate it as an occasional delicacy. During the Lewis and Clark Expedition, Meriwether Lewis ate bitterroot and brought back specimens; he was honored by its generic name.

Bitterroot survives without apparent chlorophyll by utilizing CAM (Crassulacean Acid Metabolism) photosynthesis, in which leaf stomata open only at night, when water loss is reduced, to take up CO2 that is then released the next day and converted into sugars by chemical pathways that do require light energy.

These flowers and their habitats are best seen in April and May. As the air heats and the soil dries, this large part of the Columbia Basin seems to retreat back into dormancy.

Dennis Paulson

Thursday, May 2, 2013

BLACK-BELLIED PLOVERS - NOT ALWAYS BLACK-BELLIED


Many of the common names given to organisms are descriptive, but sometimes the description is valid for only some of the individuals. Take the Black-bellied Plover (Pluvialis squatarola), for example. Forgetting for a moment that the undertail coverts, which some might take as part of the belly, are snow-white, the males of this species have lustrous black bellies, and in fact almost entirely black underparts.

Female Black-bellied are similar to males but duller above, more brownish in comparison with the males' more spangled black and white look. They also may have some white intermixed with the black of the underparts. Nevertheless, they are clearly black-bellied Black-bellied.

However, this is true for only half the year; the underparts are black only in alternate (breeding) plumage, from April to August or September. For the rest of the year, in basic (nonbreeding) plumage, the underparts of both sexes look entirely white at a distance; brown streaks and bars are apparent at closer range. the upperparts are light brown, with slightly darker markings at this time.

Furthermore, most birds don't get black underparts until they are at least two years old. Juveniles fresh off the Arctic breeding grounds look much like basic-plumaged adults but are a bit darker above, with light markings on the feathers. These birds get increasingly faded and worn during their first winter and spring, then molt into a plumage much like the adults' basic plumage for their second year of life. In their second spring, their plumage is identical to that of the adults.

Even more fun, if confusion can be fun, it takes the birds about a month to molt between these plumages, so there are black-and-white-bellied plovers present during one-sixth of the year. This is mostly in March and September, but not all individuals molt on the same schedule, so these intermediate birds can be present at other times.

One of the most interesting aspects of the plumages of this species is the sexual dimorphism. Males conduct aerial displays on the breeding grounds, so it is understandable why they are black below to be more visible against the sky. But why then should females share the color? They are duller than males, but their plumage change at breeding time is still quite substantial. Perhaps different plumages just function for sex recognition, as they do in so many birds, but then why aren't all shorebirds sexually dimorphic?

Black-bellied Plovers are abundant migrants on the Washington coast and also winter in some numbers, both on the outer coast and in protected estuaries in the Strait of Juan de Fuca and Puget Sound. They are usually in flocks, and an observer with a good spotting scope can study all of these plumages at different times of year.

Dennis Paulson

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

COLONY-NESTING SWALLOWS


Finally, a swallow that nests only where it is supposed to. Bank Swallows (Riparia riparia) nest in sand banks, usually in colonies, sometimes in very large colonies. These vertical or near-vertical banks are typically along rivers but may be in dry areas as well, even sand quarries and piles of sand thrown up by construction and then abandoned. Thus like all other swallows, their nest sites can be augmented by human activities.

Bank Swallows are common breeding birds across northern North America. They winter mostly in South America and are common migrants in between. Breeding also all across Eurasia, they are one of the most widely distributed songbirds (like the Barn Swallow).

Bank Swallow colonies range from just a few birds to up to 1,500 active nests. The burrows can be quite near to one another but stretch for hundreds of feet along a bank.

At new sites, males begin excavating burrows as pairs are forming. A male with a burrow will fly after a female and attempt to attract her to the burrow, where he lands at the opening. If she is interested, she will accompany him inside, where copulation takes place.

Although Bank Swallows are socially monogamous, males constantly attempt extra-pair copulations. When a female leaves the nest, her mate often flies right on her tail to keep other males from attempted mating, and this is successful most of the time. These flights, usually with three or more birds, can be seen constantly around colonies early in the season. One researcher found that males could actually distinguish heavier females, apparently receptive to breeding, and preferentially chase them.

The burrow is dug with beak, feet and wings. The excavation takes about 4 or 5 days, and then the female begins to gather material for the nest at the end of the burrow, taking another few days. The four or five eggs are laid one each day, and incubation, mostly by the female, ensues for about two weeks after the last egg is laid.

Both adults gather food for the brood, and it has been estimated they bring about 60 prey items/visit and feed the entire brood about 7,000 insects in total. If you're worried about bugs, it would seem to pay to live near a Bank Swallow colony. 500 nests x 7,000 insects = 3.5 million fewer insects in three weeks! But what would the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Insects say about that?

The young leave the nest at about three weeks of age and gather in communal perching areas, where they are fed for up to another week. Adults recognize their own young vocally among the clamoring of many individuals, much like the case in a tern or gull or penguin colony.

Dennis Paulson

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

A HERONRY TO WATCH


I recently learned of a Great Blue Heron nesting colony in Kenmore, Washington, only 10 minutes from my house. But the colony, at the edge of a park and ride lot, was at some distance from the vantage point, so it would take a long telephoto to get good photos of them. So I went up there with my new Canon PowerShot SX50 HS camera with its 50x zoom lens.

The colony has about 50 obvious nests, although not that many pairs were present during my two morning visits. Activity levels were low, consisting mostly of birds flying out to gather additional nesting material. But that activity had birds flying in with twigs and branches often enough to be photogenic, and a few birds even landed in the nearby Douglas-firs to tug on live branches. Otherwise the herons stood quietly at their nests.

The nests are reused for many years, birds sometimes changing nests between years. I don't know what happens when a bird chooses a nest and its previous owner returns soon thereafter! You do see sparring in the colonies.

Males procure the nest material and females remain at the nest to put it in place, and I saw numerous such exchanges. The sexes can't be distinguished, so all one can do is make assumptions that are supported by previous research. The first eggs should be laid in March, according to the literature, so presumably in early April some of the birds had clutches already. Indeed, some birds were flat on the nest, presumably incubating.

Copulation takes place both before and during egg laying, and one such act was observed during a two-hour visit. Both sexes incubate, alternating during the 24-hour period (females more at night), and the total incubation period is about 27 days. Hatching is asynchonous, as incubation begins when the first egg is laid, so the youngest bird may be several days younger than the oldest.

Once the eggs hatch, the young remain in the nest 7-8 weeks, so there will be plenty of photo opportunities to come. One thing I will be looking for is siblicide, where a young bird attacks and actually kills a nestmate. The prey is often dropped into the nest in the midst of the young, and especially when the items are small, the young are more likely to fight over them. When food is limited, it makes evolutionary sense for the brood to be reduced, so the remaining young will have sufficient food to grow and fledge.

Great Blue Herons have had a hard time of it in the Seattle area, as Bald Eagles, which have increased tremendously in recent years, visit their colonies as they are forming and take eggs, young or adults if they can catch them. A few such disturbances will usually cause the adults to desert the colony. They can either move elsewhere or just fail to breed. The next season they try again at another spot, and there is a fair likelihood that eagles will find that spot as well.

I keep hoping that the eagles won't destroy this colony. It has been established for a decade at least, so there is hope. On occasion, herons nest very near an eagle nest, and apparently that keeps other eagles away from the heron colony. I don't know why the resident eagle doesn't take its toll.

Dennis Paulson