Swainson's Thrush Story

I've been meditating in a secluded part of our property under a canopy of trees since it got warm and stopped raining. My eyes are nourished by the many shades of green, my ears by the dawn chorus of bird sounds and distant traffic, and my skin and lungs appreciate the crisp freshness of the morning air. After a brief break indoors, due to chilly, rainy weather, I returned to my spot to find an abundance of Swainson's thrush activity. A thrush would 'wheet' insistently off to my right for a while, then flit across my field of vision and 'wheet' off to the left, then behind me. I assumed it was a baby 'wheeting' for food. This continued for 8 days. On two occasions I had startled an anonymous bird in the bush next to my spot when I put my chair down, but I didn't think anything of it. On one day two thrushes flitted about in trees directly in front of the spot I stare at. Finally, on the eighth day, after hearing a fluttering of wings near my left ear, and realizing that it was not the first time I had heard this, it dawned on me that I might be near a nest. I looked into the bush immediately to my left, and there was a dark mass at eye level (I was seated), with a white feather on it. When I got up to leave, I looked more closely, and there were 3 eggs in a nest. I could have reached into the bush from where I sat and touched the nest. All of the assumed baby 'wheeting' turned out to be stress calling and diversionary tactics from panicked parents.

I start anticipating the arrival of the Swainson's thrushes around March, even though I know I won't hear one until May. The geese are on their way home to Canada and their low flying over the property at various times (always a time to stop and relish the sense of wonder) will be missed. The sound of the Swainson's thrush (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lpLnRUnoJNQ) is a special treat we only get in summer, when the geese are gone. At the end of May this year, when we were clearing things away from the building in anticipation of our new paint job, I found a dead Swainson's thrush, most certainly a victim of a window collision. Sad, and also wondrous to be that close to one, to hold the lifeless body and admire the reddish brown feathers, I left it in the common house so everybody could see it.

Now that I knew about the nest, I felt a sense of responsibility for it. On the day of the discovery, I gave a tour to some folks who happened to be birders. I told them about the nest, and we attempted to see it, but frightened mom off the nest as we approached. They told me that looking at a nest can alert predators to its whereabouts, so we did not attempt to get close. The nest was located three to four feet off the ground on a path used by people (but always empty when I'm there in the early morning), and clearly visible if one knew where to look, so I kept it mostly secret. When I went out in the mornings, I passed by the bush and went to an open meadow area, without drawing attention to it. Upon leaving, I would frequently see a bird leave the bush from afar, and I knew that all was well. On the fifth day after 'discovery,' I sensed that something was amiss and looked into the bush. The nest was tipped forward and its contents were nowhere to be found. The grass under the nest was smashed, otherwise, no details of the theft were visible to my novice eyes. One morning, a month or so before, a raccoon came crashing up the hill toward that very spot. There are also feral cats in the area, the occasional house cat, dogs, and for a brief time years ago, a mink lived in our compost bins. We can only hope that the parent thrushes learned a lesson and will build a nest in a more protected spot.

I took the beautifully built nest, constructed of twigs, moss, and lichen. The larger sticks were threaded into the bush and held it securely, until unknown predator pulled the nest over. We suspect the white feather came from some domesticated geese in the neighborhood. You can see it at my house, or here: 

4th of July Parade - Coho Style!

The kids had planned to go to the Corvallis 4th of July parade, which is an anybody can participate event.  Just show up and be in the parade.  (One year, the Coho musicians practiced Sousa marches for a few months ahead of time and we marched together.  It was the only band in the parade.  Trumpet, flute, accordion, guitar, fiddle, and there may have been a recorder.)  However, this year, they got confused about the time and missed it, so they decided to call a spontaneous 4th of July parade.  And the other citizens of Corvallis do not know what they missed!  Most of the cohoots who were at Coho were IN the parade, only a few of us were onlookers.  (They needed to have somebody to wave at.)  Here are some highlights:

We started with the Star Spangled Banner, to Trumpet and flute.

Sporting red, white, and blue with Lady Liberty on a float.

Coho musicians in a rousing Stars and Stripes Forever.  Lots of parade waves.  Is that a wagon full of stuffed animals?

Coho Kabuki?

Perhaps in reaction to the blasé grey buildings (but more likely, 'school's out - what kind of mischief can we make!?!'), a couple of creative cohoots decorated themselves with chalk and food coloring. Fantastic results! If you need make up consultants for your next costume party - look no further.

And the expressions!!!  Have they been studying Kabuki?

Mysterious Pink Lights on the Path

Mysterious Pink lights appear on the path in early morning hours....

On mid-June sunny mornings, iridescent pink lights shimmer on the pavement for brief periods, in

front of buildings 3 & 6, and 2 & 7. The most striking lights appear in the form of a pink bird with a yellow wing, sitting on a pink branch. (bird light).

Years ago, I came upon Mica sitting on the path spitting and furiously rubbing out a pink chalk line.

When I asked what he was doing, he replied with his characteristic mischievous, bordering on demonic

smile, “I'm destroying the girl color!” I glanced down the path at the crooked pink line extending as far

as the eye could see and told him, “I don't think you have enough spit to complete the job.” He let me

know that his plan did not require the elimination of the entire line. Given the shimmering pink lights

on the path, could it be that the secret powers of the girl color are in their ascendency?

Read all about it on the Coho blog:  https://www.cohoecovillage.org/blog/2016/06/sightings-at-coho-mysterious-pink-lights/

Wren vs. Chickdee: Who's Mo' Badass?

The housing shortage in Corvallis has apparently extended to the bird kingdom. A wren and a pair of chickadees have been engaged in loud, continuous squabbles over a nesting hole in the fence behind building two. Wren makes the most noise, so you could say the wren is in the catbird seat. The chickadee does the most bullying, chasing the wren around the area. The early morning air is filled with “chickadee-dee-dee-dee,” followed by various wren warbles and buzzes – on repeat. Over and over. (Of note, the more dee-dee-dees at the end of the chickadee call, the greater the threat.) By the end of the day, wren is still singing, and chickadee appears worn out. He sits on the wire fence under the nest hole, feathers all plumped out – looking bigger, badder, and appearing to scowl through that low-slung black cap. Chickadee has a partner who sometimes goes into the nest hole during the chases, and sits looking out – making it clear who inhabits this hole. Wren then sits on the wire fence beneath the hole, body flicking furiously. Today I thought I saw a little brown bird go into the hole during a chase and disappear. So, wren might just have a partner, this still needs verification. Last year, he sang for almost 3 weeks, and just when it seemed that all was lost, a partner appeared and cleaned up the awkward nest he had built for her. They had a successful fledge.

To hear wren songs and scoldings: https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/House_Wren/sounds

To hear black capped chickadee sounds: https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Black-capped_Chickadee/sounds

Who has claim to this nest hole? It was started several years ago by a downy woodpecker, who never completed it. It was finished by a couple of chickadees, who busily deposited sawdust all over the nearby planting beds, but they never nested in it. Last year a wren came and set up house in the hole. So, while the architecture is distinctly chickadee, wrens do have a precedent for living in this hole.

So, who's mo' badass? Wrens are aggressive and destroy the eggs and young of nest box competition. While it is a little late this spring, perhaps it's time to do something about the bird housing shortage at Coho.