The Vagary of Birds and a Congress of Ravens

The Vagary of Birds and a Congress of Ravens

As many of you have read in national media, California is enduring its 5th year of extreme drought.  While this past winter saw us at about 100% of normal precipitation for the winter, it didn't make up for the preceding 4 winters.  Legacy Ponderosa pines and white firs are dying by the millions and our forest will be forever changed.  

We are fortunate to have a good well, so I can continue to carefully water my fruit trees, roses, and small veg garden. 

Off the kitchen deck, I installed a little garden pond a number of years ago.  It is a repurposed 4 x 7 foot tank used by tomato haulers in the central valley.  2 1/2 feet deep, it is a nice little addition to the yard and I love to hear the water running through the recirculating pump.  Forest birds are attracted to the sound of dribbling water, as well. 

However, as you can see from a few posts back, I broke my ankle a couple months ago.  Along with a lot of other chores, pond maintenance got away from me and it was completely matted with pond lilies and the pump no longer circulated this gloppy, slimy water.  I didn't know just how clogged the pond was until Flossie, one of my chickens, fell in the pond while taking a sip. She literally walked on water and self-extricated. 

I should back up a few months and mention that this spring we were invaded by about half a dozen, noisy, raucous ravens.  Like a gang of hoodlums in the city, this "congress of ravens" took over our little forest and pushed out the other birds.  [While I try to be apolitical in this blog, the collective noun for a group of ravens has not escaped my notice....] 

My forester son tells me that ravens like to eat smaller birds and their eggs, so that explains even the evacuation of our beloved western screech owls, who usually sit in the oak tree near the bedroom and softly wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh all night long.   www.Audubon.org/field-guide   has a great collection of bird calls. Listen here: western screech owl 

About two weeks ago, as I was sitting as I am this morning on the back deck with my first cup of coffee, I saw the unmistakable flash of a northern goshawk flying through the forest surrounding the house and a responding chatter from a squirrel about to be an avian breakfast.  Goshawks are lethal predators, but it is absolutely thrilling to see one navigate through a dense forest, steering with their tail.



While I usually shake a broom at the goshawk because she generally wants to eat my chickens, I waited to see if she would hang around.  Silence from the squirrels and I quickly hung bird netting over my chicken run and waited.  Within days, the raven gang disappeared and a blessed silence came back over the forest. 

So I drained as much water as possible from the little pond, and between me, my husband, son and daughter-in-law, we hacked and cut the matted lilies into sections and pulled it out using hay hooks.  Scrubbed, refilled, and replanted with just 5 lilies, a week later I set up the pump.  Immediately, all manner of small and large forest birds were attracted to the sound of water and came to visit:  tiny red-breasted nuthatches, dark-eyed juncos, mountain chickadees, Steller's jays, a hummingbird so fast I could not identify it, and even robins have come back.  

The pond is still a rework-in-progress, but a welcome return.  I find it truly amazing in the grand scheme of life that the addition or subtraction of one or two individuals can affect an entire ecosystem.

 Last night just as I dropped off to sleep, I heard the descending ping pong ball notes of my favorite night bird, back home to roost.