Helping Birds Decorate Their Nests

You’ve heard the saying, “Looks can be deceiving.” That statement describes our little terrier’s coat. When you meet him, he looks like a sleek pooch who doesn’t shed.  That’s true July through February. However, when the calendar says spring, he gives March Madness a new interpretation.

Most folks who meet the winter Buster love to pet his silky fur and rub his soft ears.  Let them visit before a spring de-thatching, and they’ll wear Buster home. That little guy sheds like a champ. If there were Olympics for losing winter hair, our pet would win a gold medal.

Once we’re well into summer and he’s down to his hot weather duds, I forget about his ability to fill brush after brush with taupe fluff.  Throughout the cold months, I don’t think a thing about Buster’s special talent, but come those first warm days, and I remember he’s a nest building bird’s best friend.

As soon as I spy that first filament separating from a follicle, we spend spa time together.  I don’t know that he sees getting repeatedly swiped with a grooming glove as pleasurable, but I’m on a mission to capture that loose hair before it gets on me or someone else. He’s just a little guy—only 14 pounds, but he fills the grooming mitt or the wire brush time after time with handfuls of velvety fiber. 

 

For years, I tossed his winter long johns in the trash as quickly as I gleaned them even though I’d heard of folks who harvest their beloved beasts’ hair and spin it into yarn to use to weave or knit. That seemed over the top even considering how much raw material my little  half Jack Russell sloughs off each year. I figure he’s good to supply a child-size sweater.

During my musings, I read that birds line their nests with anything downy, including pet hair. Aha, the ultimate repurposing without purchasing a spinning wheel and the accouterments to take up either knitting or weaving.

Learning to up-cycle my pooch’s fuzz to improve neighborhood bird real estate changed Buster’s spring curse to a blessing.  Instead of being upset that his winter growth falls out, I pledge to capture every strand to share with robins, sparrows, wrens, flycatchers, cardinals, orioles, and even blue jays. 

Old Sol’s rays beat down to warm the tops of Buster’s and my heads and shoulders while balmy breezes riffle over us. As I comb my little friend to retrieve nest-decorating supplies, I hope my companion enjoys his western Kansas version of a tropical beauty treatment.

Spotting Buster’s fuzzy discards lining a bird nest makes those hours grooming him worthwhile.  I like thinking the coat that warmed him through cold winter days keeps future serenaders toasty and comfy until they fledge into summer skies.  

Straw Houses Make Happy Homes

Those of us familiar with The Three Little Pigs read this title and shake our heads, saying “What?”  However, we are thinking like pigs or, better yet, humans.   Put yourself in a bird’s mind to see the logic behind this title.

Before area trees and shrubs leaf out, treat yourself to a nature walk.  If you have youngsters or the heart of a youngster, grab some binoculars and find a grove of trees. Spend thirty minutes examining trunks and branches from top to bottom.  Look for grass and stick homes tucked where branches intersect or for grass and sticks poking from holes to reveal hiding places of cavity dwelling families-to-be. Examine plants at tree bases to find hidden, bowl-shaped nests.  Through bare branches, spy nests waiting for new or returning residents.

Once you find last year’s feathered-friend-summer-homes, focus the binoculars to analyze construction and materials. This provides a perfect opportunity to play amateur ornithologist and form hypotheses about previous residents. 

Nest size provides clues to the homebuilder.  Outer materials and nest linings provide more information to help solve your mystery.  If you’re lucky, you’ll find a feather or a bit of broken egg shell to finalize an answer.  Once you’ve examined the physical evidence, continue your investigation on the internet or in a bird book.  Look up species that live in your neighborhood and examine pictures of their nests.

 You will see willy-nilly assemblages where mom and pop hurriedly tossed sticks together so they could lay eggs.  I feel bad for these offspring because crude nests must poke delicate hatchlings.

In another nest, you’ll find finely woven grasses, string, cellophane, ribbon, and hair.  You’ll note soft linings made from thistle down, downy feathers, or discarded pet hair.  

Once you see what neighborhood birds use to create nests, toss handfuls of Easter grass or cat, dog, or human hair retrieved from brushes into the backyard.  You’ll soon see birds scavenging these contributions for their homes.

These nests assume various forms.  My favorite is an oriole nest recognizable as a grass bag attached to a branch. Dare to stick your nose in a hole in a tree where you might find a wren nest or a larger woodpecker or flicker nest.  Messy sparrow nests, large red tail hawk constructions, oriole cradles, and elaborate stick nests of blue herons grace tops of creek-side cottonwoods.  Look in lower branches to find cardinal and dove nests or search the ground for brown thrasher nurseries.

After leaves unfurl, sighting bird nests requires more work.   Take advantage of stark branches to learn where nearby birds brood.  Later, spend time watching adults flit in and out to feed noisy offspring.  Soon after, watch awkward fledgling flight patterns and attempts at food gathering.

Time invested now allows you and your family to discover neighborhood grass, stick, and straw homes neither Big Bad Wolf nor wind can blow down. Identify such locations to observe nesting behaviors over the next months.