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April 13, 2006  Joy In A Box The Mountain Bluebird, a resplendent cavity nesting bird, returned to the Cariboo a few weeks ago. It would be safe to say that many people recognize a Bluebird at a glance and this familiarity gives the bird a connection with humans. Some songs suggest that a Bluebird can create happiness. Some people say they feel joy upon seeing the unmistakable bird. Perhaps the bird's colour, at times like the blue of a clearing sky, or the birds' gentle demeanor, makes people find a level of comfort. True, the Mountain Bluebird is a feast for the eyes, but if asked to describe the bird, I would forego the use of particular colours and just use the word elusive. Despite living on the plateau area of the South Cariboo where Mountain Bluebirds are plentiful, I've not spent much time around Bluebirds. Perhaps this is because Bluebirds are adamant about what they want in the way of habitat. And if your house is not near pastureland or other open spaces, then your chances of having daily Bluebird visitors are lessened. I've never lived in blatantly Bluebird friendly settings, but this still feels like a poor excuse for ignoring the bird. This year I'll make a real effort to embrace the Bluebird. I'll do it because the land around the house where I currently housesit is prime Bluebird country. I may be off to a bumpy start but soon I'll warm up to the birds of blue. Today I sat in the grass by the roadside. There is little traffic at the best of times. Today at 6:30 a.m. the road is a pale vacant strip which separates the house from the pasture. I sit with my back against a thick poplar, or slumped sideways propped up on one arm. I am watching for Tree Swallows, a bird with which I have a long relationship, but at the same time I'm waiting to see a Mountain Bluebird. If I only watched for Bluebird activity there would be little to do - so the Swallows also keep me company on my vigil. Soon a nearby Mountain Bluebird intones 'Deer-a-durr. Deer-a-durr.' This is another maddening thing about bluebirds; their call possesses a definite ventriloquist quality. It could be coming from above me in a tree, behind me, or off to one side. I pull up the binoculars, scan the fence line then spot it some distance down the road. It is sitting on an old stump that has been enlisted to act as a post in the fence line. How did it get there? I can't tell if this, or some other is the calling bird? Suddenly it flies across the road and evaporates. Where did it go? Well it's a start. The next morning, and the following morning, I am also out by the roadside. Most mornings I hear a Bluebird without a sighting, but I persist. My roadside sit spawns an idea. To better know the Bluebird I should do what I do with Tree Swallows - build a nestbox. I am well aware the property has many Bluebird-suitable birdboxes. Perhaps more than any other I know of locally, and yet this idea seems like a good nature gesture. Digging deep into my memory about what Bluebirds enjoy, I conjure my own new and radical Bluebird box design - partly to entertain myself but also to further the appeal of a yard already overflowing with potential nest sites. My new box design sprang from recollecting that Bluebirds enjoy nesting in hollow limbs of trees. When I read this, I couldn't remember ever having seen such an accommodating hollow limb on any trees, but nevertheless I built my version of a hollow limb. Whereas most bird boxes hang in such a way that the length of it parallels the trunk or post, my design shoots the length out from the post vertically. The roof is flat, the sides about 11 inches long with a sloped floor. The face of the box, where the hole is, is no larger than 3 inches by 5. Yes it's very radical. After I built the first prototype I tried to come up with a catchy name for the shape but all it really reminded me of was a safety deposit box. My box placement strategy was a bit pushy. I decided that the usual arrangement of two boxes on posts near each other, one for the Tree Swallow that would keep another Tree Swallow away from the other box, thereby allowing a Bluebird to use it, could be stretched even further - How about a three-box cluster? The bluebird could have a choice of box shapes within this Tree Swallow gated community. Soon I had seven new box designs hung, all within sight of the house, and all crowding around preexisting boxes. How's that for Bluebird love bombing? Now all I had to do was sit back and watch. Yesterday, my heart raced when I saw a pair of Mountain Bluebirds sit high in a poplar at the front of the yard. Until then I'd only seen male Bluebirds, or heard disembodied calls that refused to materialize into real birds. This morning, under an overcast sky, I once again took position under a poplar tree. Oddly, the Tree Swallows, about 5 of them that have appeared every other morning for a week, were absent. Last night the temperature stayed above zero so I expected they'd be around. Robins were singing and Sapsuckers were drumming and soon I heard a Bluebird call. Where was it coming from? What was that bird on the fence line just across the road? It was a Bluebird! It flew from the fence to the ground then slowly approached one of my radical boxes. Finally it sat one fence post away. Would it investigate my nestbox? Unfortunately not. After one more foray on the ground, and a few calls, it lilted off across the pasture - So that's the flight of a Bluebird - I'd never really watched before. It was kind of an undulating affair, a bit of a flap and then a bit of a drop like a woodpecker but not as strong. There have been some years during which Mountain Bluebirds did not nest here at all. So it's pleasant to have several around these past mornings. Though they haven't brought outright joy, they have brought some optimism. And that by itself is quite a large load for one small bird to carry. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
