Thunk and other Signs of Spring

What was that rhythmic thudding? Must have been the March wind knocking a tree branch against the window, but I was too busy to investigate. Thud, thump thunk. It was relentless.
 
Curiosity finally kicked in when I saw a bird whacking itself against the picture window last March. If it weren’t for the glass, I could have reached out and grabbed this strange-looking bird with a fluffy white breast. I checked my handy bird books, but nothing matched this fuzzy snowball of a bird.
           
I called a birding expert, who convinced me I was watching male bluebirds still in their winter plumage, so the rosy aspect of the breast was hardly visible. The thumping continued for days. The birds became companions and their thumping a form of communication. I left the drapes open so I could watch the show.

Later I learned that these male birds were exhibiting territorial behavior, fighting off the opposing male they saw reflected in the glass. As the weeks passed, bluebirds thudded against all the downstairs windows of our house. Eventually they moved on, found mates and busied themselves with their nesting program, making nests in the boxes near the field.

The other day I spotted the first bluebird of this season, silhouetted against the bright snow, the muted colors of a female.

Because of the incredible experience last year I am waiting for the show to begin. While I wait, I am enjoying the arrival of all the other birds: the flock of goldfinches in dull winter coloring just showing a bit of greenish yellow, brilliant cardinals, phoebes, a flock of robins trotting across the lawn, pecking away as the snow melts. The ground is still frozen, what are they eating? The winter birds are still busy at the feeders: chickadees, titmice, nuthatches, and both downy and hairy woodpeckers.

I did hear some scratching at the front window the other morning, and there was a chickadee pecking at the edge of the window, just inches away. Aha! I knew immediately what he was doing because of a previous NH Outside article I wrote about winter bird survival. I learned that chickadees store caches of seeds for the winter. Their brains actually get larger in winter so they can remember where they stashed these food supplies. I had noticed these odd fluffy bunches of grasses and stuff tucked into the plastic window slide, and thought it was the work of bees. How amazing!

Even more amazing, a few weeks ago during the bitter March cold snap I heard the long, melodic song of the scarlet tanager. Unfortunately, he was well hidden in the top of a huge pine tree and not to be seen. Two mornings later I heard the same miraculous song from the tops of a bare deciduous tree. And there it was, brilliant red with the distinctive back wings, singing away in the bitter cold. A first! I have never seen one so early in the season.

I checked online and I learned that tanagers migrate to South America for the winter, and the males change colors during the migration trading their vibrant red feathers for dull green. And here they are back, the males first, practicing their songs, ready and waiting for the females. They have traveled thousands of miles and changed their colors twice, while I can’t figure out where the winter went.

Yesterday I began the yard cleanup. While dumping loads of sticks in the woods, I spotted several huge new distinctive square holes made by pileated woodpeckers in a scrawny tall pine tree. They reminded me of my most amazing experience with birds.

Several years ago I looked out the back window to see a huge pileated woodpecker perched low on the side of the fat pine tree. The red head was just incredible. As I admired this phenomenon, I realized I was watching not only one, but two identical woodpeckers, side-stepping around the tree in a ceremonial dance.

After 20 minutes of this amazing performance, I went outside to get a closer look. The woodpeckers flew off into the woods to continue their performance. Further investigation revealed that male and female pileated woodpeckers look alike (I thought I was watching two males), and I was watching a rarely seen mating ritual.

Coming back to the present, I just saw a pair of bluebirds at the box. Hooray! They are back, but without any thumping this year. The female flew right up to the mesh thistle-feeder at the house and the beautiful blue male showed off nearby.

Even suburban New Hampshire is full of incredible wildlife. Grab your binoculars and take time to watch.

By Anne Krantz, Master Gardener and Community Tree Steward        

4/4/07