Hawks frequently leave traces of their meals in my yard. Piles of feathers, usually, sometimes part of a wing. Some shrubs bear the unmistakable marks of a bird of prey that has been digesting in the branches above. From time to time, I even get to see one.

No one knows exactly what happened to this hawk, found by the side of the road here in California. The more sensational headlines surmise that the ingested bird managed to claw its way through. A more sensible theory is that the hawk was hit by a car, which caused the its crop to burst. But it’s certainly an startling photo.

A flock swept into the pyracantha bush during a brief lull in the winds. It never stopped raining, and one robin decided to freshen up a bit, shaking out his feathers, and having a drink too. This is taken through a less than clean window with camera settings for indoor shooting.

One of the others decided to keep an eye on me.

After enduring the ad, you will meet the artist, who creates her own world of hybrid animal creations.

Fair fight? Predator and prey, they are.

The hawk up in the redwood was annoyed by the crow. It took off, making wide sweeps as the crow kept up its harassment.

It reminded me a bit of the Blue Angels but much grander and silent.

The birds are slamming into the windows with alarming frequency this afternoon after partaking of the berries. I went out with my camera and tripod, trying to blend in with the shadows. All of them - the cedar waxwings, the robins, the finches, the occasional bluejay - took off to the top of the oaks. They chattered in tones I’d never heard before, exuberant, a little frantic, definitely stoned.

Perhaps next year, I will have the right lens for this kind of shooting.

Last year I got some pictures, but this year there are fewer berries, and I’m having trouble with the invisible part.

Either they’re very, very late, or really, really early. Or else they’re just as confused as we are, what with daylight saving time ending, fermenting pyracantha berries, vague but disturbing earth movements and springtime temps.

It has been in the queue forever since most of the family members aren’t into this sort of thing. But work has been unusually stressful, so it was time. All I knew was that it had to do with penguins, Hugh Jackman and Robin Williams were part of the voice talent, and it was probably uplifting.

If you haven’t seen it, that’s all you need to know. Oh yes, and there’s music.

The barbecued beef ribs were a bit overcooked and on the dry side since I forgot to add more sauce. I was feeling creative, so the beans came out of a can, but embellished with my famous sauce.

As an experiment, I removed one of the plastic bags protecting my rear-view mirrors from the constant onslaught of little birds who ferociously attack their own images. As I was doing so, I thought I heard a loud territorial sound coming from said birds, but I could have been imagining things.

They really have better things to do, as in caring for their nestlings who could perish from hunger while Pop is distracted. Maybe I should slip a few creme eggs into their nests.

For some weeks now, the small black-headed birds have been making a mess of my car, specifically, the rear view mirrors. The birds nest in the ivy groundcover and other places nearby. This year, they have taken a keen interest in the mirrors wherein they find rivals of a particularly tenacious and persistent sort. Neighbors have stopped to tell me how determined the birds are when they hammer at the mirrors. I’ve seen them on other cars too.

Today when I approached the car, I couldn’t help but see that the mirrors were once again encrusted. Not just the tops where they perch, but the front door windows were heavily embellished as well. The mirrors themselves now had blurred patches from constant attention. Earlier I overheard a conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Bird:

Mrs. B: When are you going to help with this nest?
Mr. B: I’ve just about beaten him.
Mrs. B: Did you see my ‘to do’ list? We need more material.
Mr. B: He can’t take much more of this punishment.
Mrs. B: How do you know if you win?
Mr. B: I win when he goes away.
Mrs. B: It’s like a video game, isn’t it? The man sits there all day, killing and maiming unbeatable things while the woman does all the work.
Mr. B: Take that, you jerk. I’m the man! I’m the man!

Which is why there are plastic bags neatly rubberbanded to my mirrors. After spending more time than I wanted scraping down the encrustations. Time I could have spent admiring the goldfish I bought last night to go in my deer scare minipond.

An African grey parrot’s 950-word vocabulary stuns researchers. Hmmm. Almost a thousand words. Isn’t that more than some politicians can manage?

Yes, I wish I had a more powerful lens or two. The geese have been flying over too, not quite as noisy as these guys though.

An overcast day in SF can be better than a sunny day elsewhere.

It’s not so much their dropping out of the sky and scaring festival goers, but the real story is not revealed until a few paragraphs in.

So now pigeons are entering banks to deposit fecal matter on customers.

From across the pond, what to do with that creature that just got wiped out (but is relatively intact except for maybe a leg), who has rights to it, which part of the meat to avoid, which animals are illegal to eat and a recipe.

Obviously, or it wouldn’t have brought its luggage today. We do have citywide free wifi now, after all.

I tried to get a closer look to see if the missing leg was an aberration of nature or the result of human/animal tampering in some way. But its pigeonness got to me first so I waved my arms wildly. It did not leave the yard.

Well, eventually it did, but I had to chase a bit. If the resident gnome had any kind of pity in its heart, it would fashion some kind of prosthetic device out of twigs maybe, or a miniature crutch.

One of my elderly neighbors continues to feed pigeons, which means that some of the less intelligent ones seek out my yard. When they land, a strong blast of the hose is enough to discourage them. Till they forget.

Lately, whenever I look up from my work, I see just one pecking away. If I go out and spray, it leaves, but somewhat slowly. A family member pointed out what I failed to notice in my haste to shoo it away: this pigeon only has one leg.

Well, now that’s different. Sorta. I stopped using the hose, but wave my arms instead. I just don’t like pigeons and all the stuff they leave on the car and driveway. So when I glance out, what I mostly see are the 50 tomato plants on the patio trying desperately to get some sun. In between them, there’s a bluish fat pigeon peeking out now and then.

When I wave my arms, it flutters to the top of the fence as if checking to make sure I’m hostile. Or if I’m tossing out handfuls of food.

The truck was moving 25 penguins, an octopus and several fancy fish to a tourist attraction in Galveston. As trucks sometimes do, it overturned, spilling out the penguins and the others, who were protected by plastic bags. Some of the bags, unfortunately, spilled their contents as well, and some fish didn’t make it.

The octopus survived. Most of the penguins huddled in a ditch, and will get to compare notes on exactly what happened. A few died.

Some days all you can hear are the juvenile birds begging their parents for a handout. The black-headed birds, the brownus birduses and the young raven can get pretty raucous at times, following the adults around. But it’s a nice kind of noise. When I spot them, the babies still vibrate their wings when they beg like they probably did in the nest.

Not today. The fence guys are back with their nailguns and dumptrucks full of vast quantities of loud boards. Down the way the treecutters are into their second day of chainsawing and composting the results.

This sets off the neighborhood dogs, one of which is suspected to be a robot dog, but we’re not sure yet. One of the little yippy yappies is beside itself, periodically screeching in a deranged way.

A pair has lost its young, and the entire neighborhood is going to pay. As soon as a human appears, the ravens descend with raucous calls, flying much lower than usual.

This happened once before, and the harassment went on for weeks. A great photo op, but unfortunately, I may not get the time for some shots.

For the past few weeks, Papa robin became a familiar sight in the yard while Ma sat on the nest in the tangerine tree. I forgot about the resident hawk.

For several mornings, I would hear a wild flapping of wings near dawn. Yesterday, there were loud and frantic chirps from the robins as well, and after that, some faint cheeps. I was only half awake and went back to sleep.

I’ve been giving the nest as much peace as possible while taking care of plants nearby. Yesterday was busier than most Thursdays, and I didn’t think to check..

This morning I peeked in, and there was no mother robin. No papa nearby either. The nest being above eye level, I couldn’t see in.

Just now, I climbed up on a chair and had a look. Whatever got the parent(s) did not come back for the babies.

The pair moved in a few weeks ago to the tree sheltered by an overhang. At first, the female was particularly jittery. Either that or I was particularly curious.

This is a part of the yard that needs regular watering. Early in the going, I dragged the hose along, irrigating the fuchsias and bamboos nearby. At some point, I peered in from a distance of about four feet, trying to see if there was indeed a robin in there.

She flew out with a loud shriek, scaring the heck out of me. I was afraid she would move away.

A week or so after, I decided to take another look, keeping a little farther away. This time, I could see her tail hanging out over the edge of the nest.

I suppose she has accepted my comings and goings with an annoyed patience. Now when I check, she is usually looking right back at me with little fear. Maybe even some defiance.

So which came first? The chickens still aren’t revealing their family secrets. But a chicken farmer, a geneticist, and a philosopher just might have the answer.

If you didn’t see it, you don’t want to know.

Not the irritable, flightless birds that can rip out your guts with their sharp claws. Chasing the citizenry of Innisfail, North Queensland they are.

A hummer that is 8-1/2 inches long, yet still builds a tiny nest.

As their numbers soar, wildlife officials are concerned, especially when the birds go after baby tortoises and murrelet eggs.

A story about how Bear, who once had a long, glossy tail, lost it because of Fox and his trickster ways.

If you know how to listen, you will hear the sounds of countless numbers of birds migrating.

This article links to tips on constructing an inexpensive microphone and free software to help identify what you hear.

A pair of black-headed birds are building a nest in the flowerbed outside the window here by my desk. Less than two feet away. These birds seem to prefer nesting on the ground, usually in a thick growth of ivy.

There will be pictures, but maybe not just yet.

Dragonflies behave very much like birds when they migrate, according to a new study. They build up fat reserves before taking off, and seem to navigate in similar ways.

One afternoon last week, I heard the unmistakable sound of a duck quacking. We get seagulls, owls, hawks, pigeons, ravens and sometimes, a heron going after the fish in a neighbor’s pond. And large numbers of songbirds, but never ducks.

Saturday, we spotted a female mallard in the middle of the road. Later, it moved to a cozy spot on a lawn, where it appeared to be settling down for the night. We debated whether it was a pet. Since this particular neighbor is the obsessively spotless one who goes after single ants with an industrial-weight pesticide sprayer, we decided not. Given the excretory habits of the average duck.

What should I see this morning but a pair of mallards flying by in what I generally think of as raven airspace.

As I recall, there is some connection between the presence of ducks and a gnome population. Stay tuned.

It’s not the H5N1 strain that is of global concern. Via Briefing.com via Reuters.

This fluffy little bird and its mate have built their nest in a bush under the eaves. Possibly from the family that was raised in a basket in our garage earlier. They seem to be quite used to people, and have a strange habit of flying at the window every few minutes.

It can’t be insects unless they are microscopic. They aren’t gathering nest materials because construction appears to be finished. Maybe they want to come in.

What we need is a porch.

Less than a second later, they were gone.

Feathers, the raw material of artificial flies, are not as available now, thanks to global trade bans. Customs agents are burning shipments, and the price of feathers is rising.

Hurrying around a corner of the yard, I surprised several doves. One seemed to be injured, and fluttered away, but not far. This one appeared to be younger, and froze against the appropriate backdrop.

I wondered if the injured dove escaped more serious damage from the hawk attack last week.

These are not your usual smallish owls. Eagle owls can be three feet tall, and have been seen carrying off small dogs and attacking deer.

Authorities suspect the owls are being released by citizens who believe the species should be revived in Scotland.

We had settled in to watch the movie when I yelled, Pause it! and raced outside. Either my jasmine blooming on the fence had just exploded, or a hawk bagged its supper in a spectacular way.

Unfortunately, it was raining, so I only took a quick look, but my companion saw movement in the corner of the garden. The hawk could still be heard, so we shot pictures and hurried back in.

In Kentucky, the wild turkey is annoying citizens of Newport, who apparently don’t like her within the city limits. Wanda is still free.

No surprise there, but instead of ravens, doves, or the various songbirds, we hear the screeching of seagulls.

Jubilant, no doubt, at finding a new and vast area of water that is the valley.

The lawn has needed feeding, so during a lull in our daily rain, I ran out with a sack of grass fertilizer.

Unfortunately, today’s lull is brief indeed.

But the little black-headed birds eat the breadcrumbs I throw out. If I’m to raise any praying mantises this year, I’ll have to to provide other food for the huge bird population.

In Afghanistan and Denmark, found for the first time.

Another heartstopping moment when I bend down for the hose, and surprise a mother bird hidden in the groundcover ivy. They seem to explode out of the nest.

Despite the seemingly disastrous practice of having a home on the ground, this particular bird (I will look it up in the Sibley soon) is very successful. Their relatives in the garage are possibly smarter. I will have a photo soon, but this calls for vigilance, which calls for spare time.

It has rained for 38 days and 38 nights. Especially last night. Actually, we had three nights of rain in just the seven hours that I was trying to sleep.

If you have a nest of baby birds in a basket hanging from a beam in the garage, it’s best to leave it alone till you’re sure the parents are out of there.

But not of the varmint sort this time. In the same basket used a couple of years ago, there’s a new family of baby birds chirping away. The earlier nest was known for its silence whenever a human was near.

They have the whole sky to play in.

I managed to steal some reading time this afternoon, William Langewiesche’s A Meditation on Flight. specifically the part where he explains how airplanes turn. For a brief time then, I was also in the sky, leaning, picturing how a plane rolls over so easily, then rights itself.

They don’t enjoy having their pictures taken.

What? Could chickens have teeth?

Well, the whole bird species has been under duress lately, as you know.

Not to worry, they are safe, and being fed their favorite foods.

They follow the ants, which are able to catch large insects. When the birds see that a choice morsel is there for the taking, they seize the opportunity.

The females are bright red and blue, the males are green.

In the rest of the bird world, the male is the splendid one, while the female is drab.

Scientists were puzzled when it was discovered that batrachotoxin was the poison in both the pitohuis and the frogs. The bird is found in New Guinea, the frogs in Colombia.

At the California Academy of Sciences, Dr. Jack Dumbacher reports that the source is a beetle of the genus Choresine. Researchers found the beetle when they asked New Guinea villagers which insects caused numbness. The beetle belongs to the Melyridae family, which is also found in Colombia.

They rank right up there with the scene in Dersu Uzala, the one in which Dersu and the Captain are forced to build a shelter in order to survive.

Except the penguins had no shelter.

With Art Porter, a fine version of the Jobim classic from the Twist of Jobim CD.

A previously untouched world full of new species awaited a team of Conservation International scientists last November and December. They were amazed to see birds such as Berlepsch’s six-wired bird of paradise, formerly thought to have vanished. Giant cassowaries, long-beaked echidnas, golden-fronted bowerbirds, and a wattled honeyeater were seen in an area reachable only by helicopter.

Before touching down, the scientists reported seeing unknown plants with enormous flowers.

On the BBC news front page, there is a link to pictures.

For about two years, a neighbor fed a growing flock of pigeons. Ravens have now taken over the free lunch, and I no longer hear the creepy sound of pigeon feet landing on the roof several times a day.

At least one group of them is stepping up in the world, thanks to a researcher at UC Irvine. Beatriz da Costa is outfitting these pigeons with air pollution sensors, GPS receivers, a camera, and a mobile phone.

The plan is to monitor air pollution, with data to be sent to a blog, beginning in August.

Lest you think the poor pigeons will be bent over from all the equipment, fear not. All components will be fitted onto a small board carried in a special backpack.

Guess who wins. In Alberta, small male birds such as the ovenbird are not being heard by females due to the industrial din of compressor stations belonging to oil and gas interests.

Some can be found here, more here, still more here.

And just one more that you might not expect.

At the University of Pittsburgh, scientists report that the vaccine is 100% effective in chickens and mice.

What happens when an important scavenger is brought to the edge of extinction through the use of a cattle drug? In Pakistan, India, and Nepal, diclofenac is routinely used as an anti-inflammatory in cows. When a cow carcass is left to rot, as is customary in those regions, vultures take in the drug while feeding.

Scientists fear that when there are no more vultures, the carcasses will become sites where anthrax can breed.

The pitohuis is known as a rubbish bird in its native New Guinea. In a surprise discovery, scientists found that the toxins in its dander are the same as those in poison dart frogs half a world away.

Researchers are unsure what the source of the birds’ poison is, and what the exact purpose might be.

Leftovers of chicken and broccoli. Then I fell asleep several times during the movie, which was absolutely gorgeous, but somewhat repetitious. Early on, the soundtrack became annoying. Maybe I should have waited for an evening when I was not so tired.

I kept thinking that a slice of pie would be just the thing. But putting on pajamas early meant an end to that, thank goodness. In the best of worlds, there is a dessert delivery service available till well past midnight. Right to your door it would go, and the trucks are filled with warm cakes, pies, and cookies. If a hot fudge sundae is what you want, they’ll make it on the spot.

Pelicans herding carp into the shallows, a swift fox with dinner, and the bear. Especially the bear.

Not all quails are toxic, of course, and those that are do not have the toxin at all times. Symptoms: vomiting, terrible pain, difficulty breathing, and paralysis. It’s not fatal, however.

No one knows what causes the quails to be poisonous. Some say certain seeds, others say insects.

Quail available in American supermarkets and restaurants are imported from Japan, and quite safe.

Last year, the pair of peregrine falcons raised four youngsters in a nest on the main PG&E building in downtown SF. Their progress was closely followed by fans via webcam.

Here are some highlights from those shots.

A Russian politician known for his unorthodox opinions is suggesting that citizens arm themselves, and shoot migratory birds out of the sky. Especially those from Turkey.

His remarks have been dismissed by his peers.

An eagle nest monitoring organization reports that 80 percent of nests destroyed by hurricanes in 2004 and 2005 have been rebuilt.