The birds are beginning to flock up. They must be finished molting and getting ready to migrate. We’ve had a cool, wet summer, but reproductive success appears to be good locally, with large numbers of young birds. Yesterday morning I happened to look out the window at a great time: a very large mixed-species flock of about 40 warblers had gotten together in the chokecherry tree and they were really active.
Chicken Stinkum
When you don’t get a moose and you’re tired of salmon, there’s chicken. This recipe began as a quick way to whip up a tasty tortilla filling from leftover roast chicken. It has since grown into its own entity, and it’s a favorite.
Chicken Stinkum (a recipe from The Church of Chicken)
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1 medium onion
1 jalapeño
5 chilpotles in adobo sauce
1/2 can of black beans
salt to taste
chile powder, or salsa as taste dictates
cheese if you’d like it
good tortillas
Smoke-grilled Crane
We had some friends over for dinner, and thanks to Jack Withrow we had three Sandhill Cranes to work with. They turned out really well, and this recipe will work for ducks or geese, too.
Smoke-grilled crane
three cranes: breasts filleted, legs and thighs still together
1 Cup of an olive oil/garlic/oregano mop
2/3 Cups shallots, scallions, or diced onions
1 jalapeño
basil
1/4 Cup red wine
First Bath
Two Black-capped Chickadee families have been entertaining us since the young fledged about ten days ago. When they were just out of the nest, they would follow the adults to the tree by the bird feeder and sit there and beg while the parents flew to the feeder, picked up a sunflower seed, returned to the chick, and stuffed the seed in the chick’s mouth. This went on for much longer than you would think it would take for a chick to learn to feed itself, but it was entertaining to watch. For variation, occasionally the same thing would happen at the suet feeder, only this was even funnier, because the young birds would be sitting inches away while the parent moved small mouthfuls of food from feeder to chick. Eventually, after days, the young became more independent and were feeding themselves at the feeders, although they are still closely following the adults.
On Sunday I was taking a break from yard work and sitting on the deck when a new lesson began. The weather was gorgeous; the sun was out, it was in the mid-70s, and apparently the chickadees decided it was time for a bath. An adult was in the bird bath going to town, really making the water splash. A fledgling was on the rim of the bath watching closely, and then it, too, made all the appropriate bathing motions – feathers loosened a bit away from the body, up-and-down dipping posture, wings rapidly flipping up and down over the back – but it was still standing on the rim. The adult finished up and flew into the nearby tree to preen. The young bird hopped out onto a rock in the middle of the bath and went through all the motions again. Still not touching the water. Then it followed the adult to a tree branch a few feet away.
Now, I am not sure it was the same adult, but the same young bird followed an adult down to the bath moments later and they went through a similar series of bathing and almost-bathing movements. It looked quite enjoyable. But junior still wasn’t getting the full experience. This time, after a couple of dry runs on the rim, the fledgling hopped briefly onto a rock that was just barely submersed in the water. But it leaped immediately back onto the rim with a sort of surprised, “Yikes, that’s wet!” movement. You could almost see the thoughts in its head: Well, maybe yikes, but in a good way, not a bad way, so…it hopped straight into the deep part (all of an inch), right up to its wings. It stood there for a couple of seconds and then connected both parts of the lesson and splashed water about like a big kid. Yahoo! First bath!
There was one more lesson – surprise! As the young bird flew laboriously back up to the tree, it learned just how hard it is to fly when wet.
Photo by Nancy Castillo at The Zen Birdfeeder
A Sawbuck for a Chainsaw
Cutting firewood can be back-breaking work. And when you’re far out in the woods and your chain saw gives you trouble, you risk coming home with much less wood than you’d planned. After a couple of really sore-back days and one drive home with a very small load, I adopted a new plan: bring back four-foot logs when possible and cut them up into 16-inch firewood logs at home. Out in the woods, this technique drastically lowered both the amount of time spent bending down to cut and also the time the chain saw was running. It was mostly a big win. Except that it just spread out the back-breaking bending over (our wood stove insists on 16-inchers). We did like being able to get a load of wood faster, and I eventually figured out a method at home that’s pretty easy on my back.
