Why it Pays to Look Down

The first time I spotted a killdeer's nest in the driveway. I noted its location, went to get my camera and could not find the nest again.

This spring, I've spent a considerably time looking down. In early spring, with hay supplies running low, I looked for signs of green grass. Now, that the sheep and horses are grazing pastures, I'm still looking down.

A wet spring means that many alfalfa stands were damaged, and I've yet to see a hay field cut in our area. I'm evaluating pastures, adjusting forage plans and looking down.

I still don't know how I spotted it among the clover, grass and weeds. Maybe it was the bit of brown among the lush green. But I stopped and looked closer.

And, I found a red-winged blackbird's nest and recently hatched chicks.

I crouched down for closer inspection and a photograph.

The mama flew overhead, squawking her disapproval.

Standing up and looking across the acres of grass, I told her, "Don't worry. I'll never find it again."

The Birds in the Yard

On cool mornings, the birdsong in the yard rises above the crickets, the road noise, the radio.

The bird population on our farm has grown since we've moved to the farm. I suspect it's because we've done things that birds like -- planted trees, converted farmland to pastures and hay fields, installed a wildlife strip.

After reading the blog, "Where the Birds Are Is Not Where You'd Think," I conducted a count of the bird species in our yard and adjoining pastures.

I'm sure I'm missing a few, as I'm still learning to identify the birds. The bird species I counted include:

Starlings
Sparrows
Barn Swallows
Field Swallows
Blue Birds
Gold Finches (these camera-shy beauties love my sunflowers... but fly away whenever they see the camera)
Mockingbirds (who are keeping their song to daytime hours this year. Whew!)
Red-Tailed Hawks (They love perching in the dead tree on the pasture's edge)
Killdeer
Red-Winged Blackbirds
Great Blue Heron (okay, not in the yard, but flies overhead on the way to the pond and river)
Cardinal
Robin
House wrens
Buckeye chickens

The Year of the Bird

One year I spent the summer looking downward, studying pasture grasses, and what the horses ate and what the sheep ate, and what they left behind. I walked barefoot in the yard and discovered that, yes, it was cooler where the clover grew.

This year, I seem to be looking skyward.

Blame it on the house finch for starting it when she built a nest in the Christmas wreath hanging on the front porch in early spring. A storm dislodged her nest, and my interest turned to the Canada geese who landed on the nearby pond.

On the daily dog walk, I discovered that Mickey, the Border collie, was indeed a trained goose dog. The 11-year-old dog raced to the pond and drove the geese onto the water, then circled to the other side. Because she didn't get into the water, she never touched the geese. But the geese decided there were other, more hospitable ponds and moved on, much to Mickey's disappointment.

In the spring, I also met the bluebird man who has built hundreds of bluebird boxes and installed them throughout the countryside.

"You have to put them where the bluebirds will want to stay," he told me, explaining that he looks for pastures and fence rows that provide bluebirds with a food supply.

His bluebird project began years ago after the saw his first bluebird. He recalled that he'd never seen something so blue and beautiful. Now, he sees them almost daily.

I do too, thanks, in part, to the bluebird boxes he installed near the hay fields.

The hay fields, pastures and fence rows attract an abundance of birds. When working the dogs in the tall grasses of the sheep pasture, I came upon a red-winged blackbird nest on the ground and wondered how the birds find their nests in the acres of grasslands.

After a hay field was mowed, I stumbled across a green-tinted egg, almost the size of a chicken egg. A pheasant egg or some other game bird? Pheasants live in the area. Years ago, I discovered them when an insistent pheasant cock called for a mate. The pheasant call reminds me of a juvenile rooster learning to crow.

Identifying birds by sound seems to be my new mission. Blame it on the mockingbird that began singing at two in the morning. I had to learn what was keeping me up at night.

When I discovered a pileated woodpecker on my morning walks, I had to look it up to be sure that's what it was. Our area doesn't have a lot of standing dead trees or woodlands, so woodpeckers aren't that common.

That's when I discovered Cornell's Bird Guide. Not only does it show and describe the birds, it has an audio link so that you can learn their sounds.

So, now when I hear the woodpecker, I look for the red-headed bird.

As I write about the birds, I realize that one bird, my favorite, the barn swallow, isn't in abundance this year. Usually, they are nesting above the windowsills of the house. When mowing, dozens of them would swoop behind me, looking for bugs. We have some, just not as many.

The swallows are some of the first birds to head south each year. Usually, in late August, I walk around the farm and realize, with great sadness, that they are gone. Their flight reminds me that summer is ending.

I wonder, if because their numbers are smaller, I will miss missing them this year.