🌞A Chocolate Pigeon in the Park🌞

Though I have been unable to locate my Big Fat Brown Duck for weeks now, this lovely chocolate-brown pigeon showed up on the shores of Lake Lafarge. There's always something interesting going on in Birdland.

Bird to bird

Canuck the Crow is a daddy!

I don't seem to have time to set this up much, but it's self-explanatory, I think. My daughter Shannon is the reporter. I was being all envious about her being able to meet the local legend, when she told me, "Canuck BIT me!" I think  she was trying her best, but the bird didn't like her body language. She stroked him tentatively, and tentative just doesn't work with a stud crow. You've got to scratch behind the head, like the guy they showed before. Extending your forearm helps, as it gives the bird something to land on. Hey, it's been a while, and I am a cat person now, but I will never forget that I loved birds, and had them in my home. There's a bird-shaped space in my heart, which is what drives me on my video searches around the lakes and seaside paths of Coquitlam.

This crow is completely CRAZY!

The crow I recently encountered on Lafarge Lake was acting very strangely. It was standing on the banks rattling its beak menacingly, and raucously cawing its head off. Periodically he (she? I can't really tell them apart) would charge at one of the mallards which was peacefully sitting at the lakeside. I've never seen behaviour like that before. If it were nest-guarding, which crows are notorious for doing, I think it would have been dive-bombing me and all the other (many) passersby in the park. But he just stood there, sometimes strutting back and forth, making the loudest, ugliest crow sounds I have ever heard.

The ducks, strangely enough, stood their ground. One was scared into the water, but after that, they stood or sat stodgily, as if to say, we won't tolerate this interloper. Ducks are placid, but they also have a certain gravitas. They are not easily perturbed. Any goose would have made short work of this crow, lowering its neck, hissing and charging at him, but the ducks just had a sort of "we shall not be moved" attitude.

But why try to scare off ducks? How could a duck ever reach a crow's nest, and what sort of interest would it have even if it could? There are plenty of ground-dwelling predators capable of climbing trees and picking off tender crow fledglings. Raccoons, skunks, weasels and ferrets, even squirrels have been known to raid nests. And let's not start on the eagles, hawks and falcons, and even the owls which could easily swoop down and snatch a whole nest.

But this crow was attacking ducks. Placid mallards which didn't want their afternoon snooze disturbed. Ducks who were just waiting for the next handout, the inevitable, forbidden tourist-feed. 

I had a passing thought that the crow was injured, but he seemed so able-bodied, so muscular and glossy (thus my use of "he", though I could be wrong) that it didn't make sense. He did not stir from the banks in all the time we spent at the lake, photographing Bosley and Belinda, our favorite duck couple. When we left, he was still cawing raucously and walking back and forth. Strutting, rather, aggressively. My only conclusion is that he saw birds, and birds meant threat, so he was going to get rid of them forthwith. 

Don't mess with the black bird

Bye-bye, birdie food

Maui: from day to dusk

Night falls incredibly fast in the tropics. No way could I capture it, but I tried! Once I had brought all my videos home for editing, I realized I had in fact filmed through a keyhole, resulting in a postage stamp. 

But for all that, the videos stir some memories of a heavenly-sweet time. It's likely to be our last "big" trip for a while, perhaps forever. I did not realize until I got home that the sassy black birds I kept seeing and hearing were mynah birds. Every time I saw one it was singing a different song, with its uncanny ability to mimic everyone and everything around it. It was even more surprising to find out that this was yet another non-native species brought in to control pests, resulting in even worse problems (levelling fields of crops, plastering the roofs of condos with guano). Still, I loved the guys, screeching, strutting around and owning the place.

Blackbird, bye-bye

From the time it first happened, it has always seemed magical to me that blackbirds fly down to eat out of your hand at Piper Spit, the dock on Burnaby Lake. I've even had a bird in each hand, but this time they took turns, not always graciously. I've never seen so many of them at one time, all of them greedy to be fed. For months I've noticed this flock, juvenile males who were probably hatched last spring, and they were too shy to come down, though they did take an interest. They seem to like to mass in a clump of bushes near the entrance of the dock, and even if you can't see them, you can hear that exquisite song. And when people walk by, they don't fly away. They know a good thing when they see it! But with the capricious habits of birds, we may not see them again until next spring. 

White peacock display

Black beauties: ravens in the yard

Three ravens like to come sit on the back fence in our yard. They just hang out for a while, not doing much of anything. They don't go to the feeder. Once in a while, one of them lets out a croak. Sometimes, one or more of them sleeps with one foot up. We don't even know if they're the same three ravens, or if ravens just like to hang out in groups of three. One of them will leave, or two of them, or even three, then come back one at a time. Then, eventually, they fly away. (Note. Only two of them appear here. One of them flew away.)

Bird distress call

I heard this bird sound in the back yard - it just seemed to go on and on. I couldn't see anything or describe the sound to Google, which sometimes helps me identify species (I nailed down Swainson's thrush the other day, after about a century of wondering what it was). Sounded like pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew. . . It was hard to say if the bird was in distress, proclaiming its territory or trying to attract a mate. This video includes perhaps the worst camera work I've ever done, but the audio is very interesting. The sounds accelerate as time goes on until it's a kind of machine-gun bird sound.

What kind of bird is that?

"With a golden head, a white patch on black wings, and a call that sounds like a rusty farm gate opening, the Yellow-headed Blackbird demands your attention. Look for them in western and prairie wetlands, where they nest in reeds directly over the water. They’re just as impressive in winter, when huge flocks seem to roll across farm fields. Each bird gleans seeds from the ground, then leapfrogs over its flock mates to the front edge of the ever-advancing troupe." - Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology

http://www.birds.cornell.edu/page.aspx?pid=1478

Love or lust on Burnaby Lake

This is some footage of pigeons I took at Piper Spit, Burnaby Lake, our favorite place to bird-watch. The pigeons are at it full-force, and it's quite funny to watch. The video has a little gap in the middle where I forgot to turn the recorder off.

Pigeon Love (Wikipedia)

Courtship rituals can be observed in urban parks at any time of the year. The male on the ground or rooftops puffs up the feathers on his neck to appear larger and thereby impress or attract attention. He approaches the hen at a rapid walking pace while emitting repetitive quiet notes, often bowing and turning as he comes closer.

At first, the female invariably walks or flies a short distance away and the male follows her until she stops. At this point, he continues the bowing motion and very often makes full- or half-pirouettes in front of the female. The male then proceeds to feed the female by regurgitating food, as they do when feeding the young.

The male then mounts the female, rearing backwards to be able to join their cloacae. The mating is very brief with the male flapping his wings to maintain balance on top of the female.

One wonders, given the fact that actual mating takes only a few seconds, why there has to be such a prolonged, elaborate mating ritual. I suppose there's a parallel in human beings, where "love makes the world go 'round", songs are all about "love" (banging, usually), and - aside from industry - sex seems to be not just the main thing, but the only thing. (Come to that, it is also an industry in itself.)

What I have long wondered is this: since birds were directly descended from dinosaurs, did dinosaurs have similar elaborate rituals to attract a mate? Did T-Rex perform pirouettes and coo softtly so he could get it on with a girl T-Rex? How about Tricerotops? Did it throw up in another Tricerotops' mouth to charm and beguile? And how noisy would all this be? I have always thought of the dinosaur-scape as deafeningly loud, as each creature bellows with gigantic vocal cords to communicate. But this. The thuds on the ground! It would be like an earthquake.

Tragopan strikes out!

(Note that the satyr tragopan, not the brightest of birds, is extravagantly performing his courtship ritual for a log.)

Satyr tragopan
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Satyr tragopan

Tragopan satyra from Pangolakha WLS, East Sikkim, India

Conservation status


Near Threatened (IUCN 3.1)[1]
Scientific classification
Kingdom: Animalia
Phylum: Chordata
Class: Aves
Order: Galliformes
Family: Phasianidae
Subfamily: Phasianinae
Genus: Tragopan
Species: T. satyra
Binomial name
Tragopan satyra
(Linnaeus, 1758)


The satyr tragopan (Tragopan satyra) also known as the crimson horned pheasant, is a pheasant found in the Himalayan reaches of India, Tibet, Nepal and Bhutan. They reside in moist oak and rhododendron forests with dense undergrowth and bamboo clumps. They range from 8,000 to 14,000 feet in summer and 6,000 feet in winter. The male crimson horned pheasant is about 70 cm long.

Captive bird from Osaka, Japan.

When it is mating season, male satyr tragopans grow blue horns and a gular wattle. When ready to display, they will inflate their horns and hide behind a rock, waiting for females to pass by. When one does, they will perform an elaborate and attractive display in front of the females. At the end of the display, the male will stretch to his full height and show off all of his ornaments.

Females are brown. Males are usually red with blue, black, and white spots and freckles.

Bright birds

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Drama in the back yard

(Please note. These gifs can run slow at first, or at least they do for me. Once they have gone through a full cycle, usually 10 or 15 seconds, they should run smoothly.) The first day I ever worked with the video camera, every bird in the neighborhood suddenly showed up - including some we had rarely seen before. This is a female flicker who has taken to the suet feeder. She hung around for quite a long time - oh, so beautiful, while I scrambled to capture video of her.  I hadn't put the camera on the tripod yet and was wobbling all over the place. I don't know when we'll see her again.

Up close and personal with a Steller's jay. These guys are frequent visitors and tend to gulp and guzzle the seeds, quickly emptying out the feeder. They are so beautiful, almost as mystical at the flickers.

We were amazed that the flicker hung around for so long. In this case, it flew down and pecked at the crack in the door. Flickers are a kind of woodpecker and would normally go after grubs in the ground. This time it actually used the feeder (very briefly), hammering away at it.

Squirrels! We have three baby squirrels living in the back yard. This happens every year. They were likely born in the spring and are SO CUTE that we can't bear to keep them away (like so many bird-feeding people try to). We couldn't believe they'd go after suet or be able to get to it. Obviously they can. Occasionally we get fat bushy-tailed grey squirrels, and even the odd red squirrel which is particularly adorable.

We have tons of juncos in the yard. This is an example of a particularly handsome male. They just hang around and eat, mostly the fallout from the feeder. They are easygoing and don't attack each other, believing there is plenty to go around.

And this is the miracle - even more miraculous than the appearance of the flicker. This is a spotted towhee, a bird we have only rarely seen, and always on the ground. Not sure why so many amazing birds showed up when I was using the video camera for the first time! 

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Flickers, jays and squirrels: is this a McDonald's, or what?

This is Baby's First Video, the first time I ever tried to work with the video camera: and all at once, a Steller's jay, a squirrel and a flicker showed up! After this I more or less figured out how to work with a tripod, so the worst of the shakes ended. Gifs to follow!

Mystery of the Magpie Duck: still unsolved?

After the revelations in yesterday's email from the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology, we went to visit our newly-recognized magpie duck in Como Lake. There he was, fat and feathered and practically eating out of a man's hand as he threw seeds to the flock, which was waddling around on the lake shore.

But then I noticed something.

I noticed something I had sort-of noticed before. Our duck's plumage didn't exactly match the photos of magpie ducks, though they had the same general configuration of light and dark.

But our duck is brown.

Our duck has a brown breast and sides which pretty closely match the rich variegated plumage on the mallards (particularly the females) all around him. Magpie ducks are closer to solid black and white.

Then I realized I probably didn't fully understand what the Cornell Laboratory guy said: "It is a hybrid  of mallard origin" likely referred to OUR duck alone, not the whole species as I had assumed. I guess I thought his entire race had a mallard origin, like Thoroughbreds being spawned from ancient Arabians, or Bengal cats from wildcats, but probably not. Our guy is unique.

Though we can't know for sure because he likely won't submit to a DNA test, this is likely a mixed-race duck, a genetic puzzle, which is partly what makes him so special. That means either his Mummy or his Daddy was a magpie duck which mated with a mallard: a strange love affair, which might even have rendered him sterile, like the mule which results from a donkey mating with a horse.

Or not?

And why is he so big? He's nearly the size of a goose, for God's sake! It's hard to believe he was crossed with anything, let alone a duck so relatively small. We noticed his feet were at least an inch longer, as was his bill. But I tend to trust what the Cornell Lab guys say.

Today, when I was particularly eager to get a good look at him, he practically posed for me, his whole body out of the water, even turning to let me get a look at the other side.

Though the mystery has been solved, it hasn't been solved fully. The scenario is now more complicated: a magpie duck and a mallard producing offspring which has features of each, but is mostly magpie in size and configuration.  And what of "the other one", the second magpie duck which we thought we saw once? Did that mating produce more than one offspring which decided to stay in the safety of the lake rather than become someone's dinner? Or is this Bigfoot all over again, seeing what you want to see?

I wonder, too, why he posed for us on dry land like that. We've been glimpsing that duck for several years, in an "oh, look, there he is!" "Where?" "Oh, he's gone now" sense. Never has he stood there three feet away from us, preening and quacking into the camera.

The magpie is a most illustrious bird

Dwells in a diamond tree

One brings sorrow and one brings joy

Sorrow and joy for me

The magpie is a most royal bird

Black and blue as night

I would that I had feathers three

Black and blue and white

I saw the gentle magpie bird

In dusky yester-eve

One brought sorrow and one brought joy

And sooner than soon did leave

The magpie is a most illustrious bird

Dwells in a diamond tree

One brings sorrow and one brings joy

Sorrow and joy for me

Sorrow and joy for me

Sorrow and joy for me

A bird in the hand: mystery songbird at Piper Spit

Later identified as a tree swallow, but can't they come up with a more lyrical name than that?! This guy's song was intoxicating. Like all the birds at Piper Spit, he's too tame for his own good, and I know I'm not helping matters with my handfuls of seeds. But what can I say? I'm weak, and short on magic moments in my life. I have NO birds in my back yard all, and barely any squirrels, though last year it was just teeming out there. Don't know why. Even took down the new bird house in case they thought it was a predator (like those plastic owls you see). And our former favourite haunt, the "duck park" at Lafarge Lake, is being bulldozed to make way for a Nazi-like cement amphitheatre (just the name has Third Reich connotations to me - like something from Hitler's proposed monstrous empire, Germania). We may never get that lake back, but now we have this.

Blackbird singing. . . on Piper Spit

I can't describe to you the feeling of having this handsome devil fly right down to me without any prompting. I know I shouldn't be feeding him, but I am. I'm tired of feeling like an evil human being. I need my moments of utter magic, and I find so many of them in this magical place.