Blog Posts - D. August Baertlein - Writer & Ruminator

Acorn Woodpecker and Red-Naped Sapsucker

2/5/2020

Don't ya' love that beautiful face?

My favorite woodpecker memory is from when I volunteered in animal rehab at CALM (California Living Museum) in Bakersfield. There was a little fellow there who had become too acclimated to people and couldn't be released back into the wild. Whenever anyone walked by he'd beg for food, and if you stuck a finger near enough he'd wrap his long cord-like tongue around it. It was the strangest feeling to have that strong prehensile tongue probing your knuckles for insects. I miss that little guy.

In spite of it being 25˚ F this morning, the birds seem to be returning, maybe longing for spring as much as I do. This handsome Acorn Woodpecker was looking for water at my birdbath. I'm afraid all he found was a skating rink, until I poured a bit of hot water over the ice.

This Acorn Woodpecker visited us in Lake Hughes, California back in April of 2016. He was probably instrumental in hoarding great gobs of acorns in one of our telephone poles.

Apparently, Acorn Woodpeckers are notorious for diligent acorn stashing. Audubon.org says such graineries can be used for generations and have 50,000 holes! Honestly, I didn't count, but they were all up and down the this ~30' pole.

This Red-Napped Sapsucker is another Lake Hughes bird, photographed in October of 2015 climbing the cottonwood tree outside our window. I haven't noticed this species here in Prescott, but my Merlin Bird app says I should keep looking!

Turkey Tail Mushrooms, Moss, and Lichen, Oh My!

1/29/2020

My nature-nut niece Kira made me a pair of earrings out of Turkey Tail Mushrooms. Having no knowledge of this particular species of fungus (Trametes versicolor), my imagination went wild. First, I assumed that she was making a comment on my personality. She says she made herself some too, but seriously. She's something of a turkey herself. (My favorite sort, of course!)

Then it occurred to me that she might have discovered my secret spy identity, and was providing me with an emergency suicide pill that I could wear in plain sight. But, as it turns out, these are medicinal mushrooms, not poisonous ones. They're packed with antioxidants and immune-boosting unpronounceables!

(Photo credits clockwise from upper left: Gilbert Trimblay, Steven Knight, Constantin Jurcut, and Thomas Pate. Thanks, guys!)

I have no personal photos of Turkey Tail Mushrooms in the wild, so I grabbed these from freephotos.com. I can't swear they're all Turkey Tails, and, personally, I wouldn't eat them without an expert guide's approval—like Kira, maybe. She's training at the Wilderness Awareness School, where they know their mushrooms, among other things.

To finish with a little LOCAL color, above on the left is a gorgeous Prescott rock painted over with splotches of lichen. Don't ask me what kind. There are more than 15,000 species of lichen, and they're each actually two creatures—a symbiotic association of some sort of fungus plus either an alga or a cyanobacterium, depending on the species.

On the right, some bright green moss has sidled up next to the lichen in a shady spot along the trail. As dry as it is here, I was surprised to find moss, but it seems quite happy when it finds a cool, damp place to grow.

Happy Hiking!

Birds Finally Ate the Pyracantha Berries!

1/22/2020

The Western Bluebirds (above, below, and in January archive link), Spotted Towhees (photos in December archive link), and maybe some other species I couldn't identify finally gathered around our Pyracantha berries. The fruit hung on so long I wondered if it might be bad tasting or even poisonous.

Apparently not. In fact, this Arizona State University Pyracantha sheet has a recipe for Pyracantha jelly. It also describes birds getting drunk on overripe berries, but this I did not see.

On January 16, I spotted these bluebirds in a feeding frenzy. Shortly after, we went away for a few days. By the time we got back, the bushes were picked clean. There are still Juniper berries about, and no snow covered the birds' normal feeding grounds, so I can only assume that once they discovered the berries they found them tasty enough.

It is puzzling that it took so long for the birds to show up. The fruit has been there in plain sight since at least October (above), when the berries were surrounded by red salvia blossoms, a hummingbird favorite.

And here they were well-preserved by an early December snow.

Now they are gone until the bush blossoms again in late summer or fall. Or so I hope.

Javalina or Collared Peccary (Not Actually Pigs)

1/14/2020

Despite the uncanny resemblance, Javalina are technically not related to "Old World pigs" (Suidae). Our desert critter, the Tayassy tajacu, actually belongs to the family Tayassuidae, or New World pigs. (Yeah, TMI. Sorry.)

At this Arizona Sonora Desert Museum link you'll find a picture with a wee baby. (I don't care what anyone says. They're stinkin' cute!) Since they don't have a set breeding season, babies can show up any time, even during last winter's two-foot snow storm! Unfortunately, I've never managed to snap a baby picture.

The Desert Museum link also has a button to play "a variety of Javalina sounds." But the smell... well, you have to be there. It's very skunk-like, and I'm not convinced I can tell the difference between skunk and peccary by smell alone. My mother can, though! What a nose she has!

I took the above video when a herd of about a dozen sauntered through last week. This fella' is grubbing around our yucca and small native plants (AKA weeds). S/he is probably digging up some juicy bugs and tubers. Javalina are primarily herbivores, but also enjoy carrion when they can find it, and a bit of tasty human trash when it presents itself.

Note the teeny tiny tusks in the photo above. Those teeth are actually bigger than they look. Some of the iStockPhotos in this link show more arresting views. (BTW, don't you love the delicate fringe of eyelashes over that bedroom eye?)

Javalina don't attack humans, either to eat them (primarily herbivores, remember) or in defense. They're far more likely to run and hide when they see us. But they don't see very well, so it's best not to sneak up on them. Also, people who carry food out to them have on occasion been skewered by tusks and teeth. Another reason to just let them be wild.

I blame my shortage of pictures on the fact that they blend into the underbrush so well, and that they're most active at night. (I do have several shapeless blobs in my nighttime photos.) So, here's a lovely video and some more information on the javalina or collared peccary at this Arizona Leisure link.

Enjoy!

Western Bluebirds

1/3/2020

These Western Bluebird beauties (Sialia mexicana) were a much-loved fixture at the Prescott birdbath in late fall and early winter. This photo is from November 18, 2019. According to The Firefly Forest, they are year-round residents in Northern Arizona, but I'm not seeing them much now. I'm sure this is partly because water more abundant with the recent rain and snow, and they don't need my little water supply.

They may also be scarce because---it's bloody winter! not my favorite season. Birds are out there, but they keep such a low profile I'm almost never able to identify them, let alone catch a photo.

This bluebird angel took flight in early November also.

This hole (likely created by a woodpecker) in a cottonwood tree outside our window in Lake Hughes, California, was home for bluebirds several springs running. (The photos above and below were taken April 1, 2016.) It was wonderful to see parents darting in and out caring for their eggs. Not so wonderful when a crow slipped in and snatched them. The circle of life, I guess.

Desert USA has wonderful detailed information on Western Bluebird, including that they are probably surviving on juniper and mistletoe berries this time of year, but feed themselves and their hatchlings primarily on insects in the spring.

Here's another Prescott bird for comparison. Apparently, they may or may not migrate---north/south, or locally between elevations. Though Arizona and California birds look identical to me, I doubt any individuals moved with us. 😉 I'm sure that I'm far more fascinated by them than they are by me.

Seen any good birds lately?

Mother Nature Decorates for Christmas in the Chaparral

12/17/2019

The San Francisco Peaks stand dusted with a cape of snow. No, they're not in northern California, but in a volcanic field north of Flagstaff, Arizona. Humphrey's Peak is the highest one, and the highest point in Arizona at 12,633 feet. Mother nature lets us ogle them from below in our warmer chaparral climes.

Pale blue juniper berries are thick on some trees this time of year, absent from others. I've not figured out their schedule. We have at least two varieties of Juniper here—the alligator with chunky scaled bark like an alligator's skin, and another which I think is the California Juniper—but that doesn't seem to account for the difference in timing of the berries.

My father-in-law used to take us looking for alligators when we'd visit from the desert. I thought he was yanking my chain the first time. And then we found one! What a card.

I confess. This Pyracantha isn't native, and the snowstorm at its feet swept in a few weeks ago and melted soon after. But aren't the berries lovely? The internet says they're not toxic and birds will eat them, but mine linger for months untouched. Perhaps because they're not native here the birds haven't developed an appetite for them.

The red bark of manzanita is a year-round treat. Still, the Christmas colors caught my eye. And dead branches, like those to the left above...

...make a lovely Christmas tree.

Spotted Towhee

12/12/2019

The Spotted Towhee is a a common sight here in the Arizona chaparral. In spring and summer I often see them perch high in trees singing up a storm. Audubon says this is the male defending his nesting territory.

Apparently, they have several different calls. (Listen at this same Audubon website.) The one that catches my attention in spring and summer is a chip-chip-chip-buzzz call. The number of chips varies from two to four, and I've always wondered if it means something different in bird-speak, or if these are different call-signs of different birds.

My sister, Kris August, gave me a fascinating audiobook on bird language a few years ago. It's by the wilderness skills instructor and tracker, Jon Young. He talked a lot about towhees, which at the time I didn't know from chickadees or flickers or much of anything else for that matter. In this short video Young describes how paying attention to a towhee's behavior clued him in that he was being followed.

Females and males have very similar color patterns, but the female has a grayer head, where the male's head is black. Both of these photos are probably of male birds.

I enjoy spotting spotted towhees even in winter, but they're much quieter and shyer, down in the dirt scritching through fallen leaves for insects. By the time I raise my camera, they've generally flitted away. So these pictures are from summer and fall.

Our Elusive Coyotes

12/4/2019

Coyotes can adapt to just about any environment. They modify their diet to whatever is available, from bugs and bunnies, to trash and house cats. They're everywhere, including here on the ranch.

I hear them sometimes in the evening. On occasion I see one trotting across the road. too fast for me to whip out my phone or camera. One spring, a couple raised pups in the boulders not far from our house, defending vehemently when my dog came near.

So, surprisingly, this is my only Coyote picture. So far!

Woodhouse's Scrub-Jays (often mistakenly called Blue Jays)

11/25/2019

The CornellLab of Ornithology website calls Woodhouse's Scrub-Jay reclusive. This isn't my experience. These guys are all over, filling the air with their distinctive "schreak" call. They remind me of the seagulls hollering "Mine!" in Finding Nemo.

Fittingly, a group of jays is sometimes called a scold of jays. Note that these Woodhouse's Scrub-Jays lack the pointy head-crest of a Blue Jay.

This thinner fellow reminds me of the Geico gecko. I half-expected him to request peanuts in a proper British accent.

Speaking of diet, apparently Woodhouse's Scrub-Jays eat everything from nuts, juniper berries and seeds to insects, eggs, lizards and other bird's babies! I'm not going to think about it.

The white eyebrow makes them look quite wise, and they are pretty smart! I love this website, which calls them "Gregarious and Gluttonous" as well as "Insanely Smart." Like crows and ravens they hide food for later use, remember where they put it, recognize when it might be so old as to have spoiled, and watch to make sure nobody saw where they hid it. Bird brain, indeed!

This fellow seems to have a deformed beak. An Audubon article from a few years ago suggests that several species can get an Avian Keratin disorder, perhaps caused by a virus. Whatever caused this, it sure looks like it would make it harder to eat.

Also notable in this picture is the grey shoulder wrap, which distinguishes Scrub-Jays from Blue Jays, along with the lack of a crest.

Rain At Last!

11/20/2019

In honor of the first significant rain in months, I'm veering meteorological today, (with a touch of astronomical at the end). We're up to 3/4" for the last 24 hours, with more expected. Yipee!

Stop laughing, you Oregonians and Washingtonians!

I love the sound of it in this short video. Unfortunately, I can't share the smell.

We did get an impromptu hailstorm on November 6, complete with rainbow accessory. It didn't amount to much precipitation, but the birds were notably less thirsty for a few days, which made me realize that birdbath isn't just for my entertainment.

Here's lightning strike from September...

...and a lovely full-moon-set the husband caught the morning of November 12.

He also nabbed this artful receding mountains shot that morning. I don't think I've ever been able to capture those fading purples in a photo quite this well. Maybe because I'm always looking the other way in the evenings instead.

The prize goes to the early riser.