Westfield CBC and Cowbird Ruminations

The Westfield area bird count was scheduled for the day after Christmas, and one of the highlights was the large numbers of blackbirds recorded. With the ground bare, blackbirds have been hanging out on local meadows and lawns, usually in flocks of from fifty to a few thousand individuals. Large flocks were usually a mixed group of grackles, red-winged blackbirds, and cowbirds. By late December these three species are usually gone from New England, forming mega-flocks of tens of thousands that are not so welcome in the rural south.

Two weeks ago a hundred or more cowbirds arrived at my feeder. They covered the ground, packed in so tightly they had to lift their short tails in the air to avoid swatting their neighbors. I decided there would be no seed spread at all until they moved on. Without snow the other birds would find enough to eat in the wild for a few days. But they returned to my restocked feeders, once in a flock of several hundred. On count day there were two hundred feeding at the house and another four hundred down the road.

The cowbird was once only a Great Plains species that followed the great herds of roaming bison. None inhabited the nearly continuous forests of eastern North America when the Europeans colonized it. The cowbird had adapted to become a "generalist parasite," laying its eggs in the nests of other species for the adoptive parents to raise. Finding seeds and insects around the churning feet and fresh droppings of the grazing bison did not allow them to build a nest and parent in one place. Like the plains people themselves, they followed the bison wherever and whenever they moved.

Europeans pushed west and cut the eastern forests, bringing their cattle with them. The cowbird pushed into this new habitat and eventually colonized the whole of North America. Many species of birds confined to the east had no experience or defense against these larger, quicker hatching eggs and fast-growing young that pushed out their "sibling" rivals from the nest to die. Rarer species, such as the Kirtland's warbler of northern Michigan, would have been exterminated without cowbird control programs. Some people would like to see a nearly universal control to reduce the huge cowbird numbers.

I admit to a visceral dislike myself for these hordes of eating machines with the "bad" breeding habits. Although they are living creatures that survive as best they can, their story reminds us that living at the expense of other life, though natural, is no ideal. As the dominant survivor on earth, the human species is looking for other models of behavior rather than just blindly pushing each other, or the rest of life, out of the nest.

As if to remind us even more of the gory side of nature, one party on the count saw a turkey vulture soaring low over the treetops. There is probably plenty of carrion for these birds in the winter, but it is usually harder to find. If snow doesn't cover a dead animal, then it freezes, locking in the decay that would release the telltale aroma that the keen vulture nose can detect. This was the first vulture ever seen on a western Massachusetts Christmas Count, and a prize for those who found it.

For those who rose very early, screech owls were easy to hear as they responded to tape recordings of their call. One party had three birds calling in one place and another two, with a dozen counted altogether. The Barred owl is a large forest loving bird, that is usually reluctant to call. One of the two noted only called at the very last minute as the listener was just about to get back in his car.

Woodpeckers were another highlight. Downy, hairy, and red-bellied woodpeckers were quite common and two of the big pileated woodpeckers were seen. There were quite a few flickers, which need bare ground to survive the winter. There was also a very rare red-headed woodpecker coming to a Westfield feeder. It was an immature bird with a completely brown head and throat, and a black back with bright white wing and rump patches. Another one of these was reported in Monson a month ago. If you have one coming to your feeder let me know, but be sure it isn't the red-bellied woodpecker, whose red is confined to the crown and back of the head. I will write more about this bird next week.