Feedback and feeders
Time to get the feedback dept. cleared out.
Once in a while, one of these
”
Naturally
”
rambles seems to strike a chord with readers, and I hear from a
few of them.
Usually, the feedback is kinder and more effusive than I
deserve, and whatever criticism is delivered is almost always
constructive.
Feedback and feeders
Time to get the feedback dept. cleared out.
Once in a while, one of these “Naturally” rambles seems to strike a chord with readers, and I hear from a few of them.
Usually, the feedback is kinder and more effusive than I deserve, and whatever criticism is delivered is almost always constructive.
The nice thing about writing a natural history column is that just about nobody is anti-nature. Heaven knows this newspaper affords me a wealth of opportunities to make people angry in other venues.
That’s not to say that occasionally I don’t step on some toes, paws or hoofs in this column. An observation about the havoc wreaked by feral pigs brought a very thoughtful response from a passionate wilderness visitor who does not object to the presence of these intelligent and fecund animals in a landscape they did not historically inhabit.
It was some years ago that I wrote about the effect of domestic cats on wildlife. Free-roaming cats are believed to have been the source of feline leukemia among cougars. The numbers of small animals and birds killed each year by them is staggering. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service cites a Wisconsin study that estimated 39 million birds taken by domestic cats annually in that state alone.
Flash forward a few years, and a letter-writer accused me of having advocated for hunting cats. Didn’t happen. Besides, I couldn’t even begin to figure out how to prepare one for dinner.
But the feedback engendered by last week’s column surprised me. I wrote about Airline Highway, the section of Highway 25 connecting Hollister to a short spur into King City.
Even though I seldom encounter many cars, especially past the turnoff for Pinnacles National Monument, apparently this hidden gem is not such a secret after all.
People just love that highway for all the reasons I enumerated last week. Now that rains have finally returned, the grass should start growing again in earnest, and the show will only get better.
Other e-mails came from people observing their hummingbird feeders, and finding some unexpected company in the garden.
Chestnut-backed chickadees and Audubon’s warblers are paying wintertime visits to the sugar taps of local backyards.
The behavior surprised these correspondents, but it shouldn’t. Both species live largely on insects in warmer months.
As days shorten, the warbler’s entire digestive tract changes, to better accommodate a winter diet based on seeds and the like. They flock to our olive trees, to eat the bitter but oil-rich, high-calorie fruit.
Given a supply of high-calorie sugar water, it’s only natural that these resourceful, tiny birds find it attractive.
Chestnut-backed chickadees are worth getting to know anyway. Since they reside in our area all year long, they grow very familiar with its feeding opportunities and places of shelter and refuge, as well as its attendant risks. (Perhaps that free-roaming cat next door?)
During migration, birds just traveling through often attach themselves to chickadee flocks, kind of like following truckers to a local diner in search of good, cheap food.
The chattering of chickadees during the fall, in particular, should always invite us to pause and look them over for something unexpected.
One correspondent who has observed chickadees at her hummingbird feeder for some time said that one would scold her persistently whenever it ran dry. That’s pretty gutsy for an animal less than 5 inches long and weighing 0.3 ounces.
Mark Paxton is publisher of The Pinnacle. His e-mail address is [email protected].
