Birds and Berries

Late summer is enlivened for me by the ripening of wild fruit and the appearance of the fruit-eating bird in our local gullies and thickets. These berry thickets, found throughout the Valley, provide birders with exciting birding opportunities during otherwise quiet times.

The classic berry thicket in the North Okanagan grows around almost any drainage, pond or lake, or often in a narrow dry grassland swale that may once have channelled glacial water thousands of years ago when the surrounding ice sheets were melting. Now the folds of the drainage contain bushes and short trees that  provide birds and animals with an annual summer feast. Drawn by the bounty, species like Swainson’s Thrushes and Western Tanagers, normally hidden in upland forests, become temporarily abundant and often more visible than usual as they strip the berries from the bushes.

Choke Cherries are favoured by many species of birds and mammals including Black Bears, Red Squirrels, Ruffed Grouse, Northern Flickers, American Robins, and Cedar Waxwings. The seeds are regurgitated or excreted and thus are spread far and wide by wildlife. Photo by C. Siddle. 

The major fruit and berry species include Saskatoon, hawthorn sp. , Chokecherry, Pin Cherry, Red-osier Dogwood, and Blue Elderberry. Trees attractive to birds and found growing around the berry thickets include Douglas Maple, Trembling Aspen and Douglas-fir.

Birds drawn to such places include Ring-necked Pheasants, California Quail, Ruffed Grouse, Mourning Doves, Calliope Hummingbirds, Rufous Hummingbirds, Black-chinned Hummingbirds, Red-naped Sapsuckers, Northern Flickers, and Pileated Woodpeckers (attracted, in particular to the fruit of Virginia Creeper). Taking advantage of open perches and easy access to flies and to flying insects are Western Wood-Pewees, Willow Flycatchers (open, marshy habitat with red-osier dogwood thickets), and various empidonax species. Most prominent of the flycatchers are Eastern Kingbirds initially in family groups and later in autumn flocks fond of the white Red-osier Dogwood berry. Occasionally even a silent Olive-sided Flycatcher or two, down from the mountain forests, may appear on its way south.

Hawthorns (Crataegus sp.) are principally eaten by Cedar Waxwings. Photo by C. Siddle.

Vireos are typical berry thicket birds and are easily attracted by pishing. There is something in a vireo’s personality that will not let the bird pass by a good pish without investigating. Cassin’s Vireos, whether in molty plumage early in August or in feather perfect plumage later in the month, can be counted on to appear, while it’s a rare Red-osier Dogwood thicket that doesn’t hold at least one Warbling Vireo. Red-eyed Vireos are more conspicuous in mid and late August than at any other time as they fuss and scold their way south from thicket to thicket.

Insectivorous most of the year, Warbling Vireos become serious consumers of Red-osier Dogwood berries in summer and fall. Here an immature with quite yellowish underparts (common) is responding to my pishing. Photo by C. Siddle. 

An interesting thing about Warbling Vireos is that for 10 months of the year the species is highly insectivorous. Only in August and September does the Warbling Vireo consume fruit.

House Wrens are common in family groups, the young birds still showing fleshy gapes at the corners of their beaks, while Ruby-crowned Kinglets don’t usually begin to appear in numbers in the valley bottom until September.

Swainson’s Thrushes, along with American Robins and Cedar Waxwings, are the poster birds for these berry-bird aggregations. Coming out of the forest proper beginning in late July to feed in the thickets of the gulleys and draws, Swainson's Thrushes remain shy, only occasionally appearing at the edge of vegetation but commonly calling softly "whit" notes that reveal their presence. From mid September onwards Hermit Thrushes, that spent the spring and summer nesting in the boreal forest zone from about 1500 m and higher above sea level, replace Swainson’s in the more heavily wooded thickets though never in such large numbers.

A Red-eyed Vireo responds to my pishing. Photo by C. Siddle.

Swainson’s Thrushes call a diagnostic soft "heep" as they cross the night sky during nocturnal migration. It was one of my favourite sounds when I was a teenager in Mission, B.C. running home from a friend's house to make my schoolnight curfew. Overhead invisible in the inky sky Swainson’s Thrushes also hurried on their way. Nowadays it’s a rare night that things are quiet enough for my old ears to hear Swainson’s Thrushes still calling their muffled "heeps". Mostly the road past our house is a longitudinal din, what with rednecks tromping the accelarators of their jacked-up pick-ups, and plump boomers seeking the thrill of the open road in their loud fatly flatulent Harrys.

Seeming to become more uncommon each passing year, the Evening Grosbeak is usually seen gobbling sunflower seeds  at a feeder. On Silver Star Mtn. a female-type makes an absolute mess of more natural food, Saskatoon berries. Late July 2017. 

Just as Warbling Vireos are inseparable from Red-osier Dogwoods, so Gray Catbirds love their Blue Elderberry bushes. But catbirds in late summer are apt to pop up almost anywhere even occasionally in suburban yards.

Gray Catbirds and Blue Elderberries (Sambucus racemosa).  Photo by C. Siddle. 

European Starlings and Cedar Waxwings are among the most conspicuous of the berry eaters, perching atop snags where they can command a view of their surroundings. The sharp notes of a starling are often the first warning that a predator has been spotted, for the berry aggregations attract not just songbirds, but predators like Merlins, Sharp-shinned Hawks and Cooper’s Hawks.

By late August Orange-crowned and Yellow-rumped warblers will be seen passing through the gulleys among the fruit eaters. Occasionally a skulking MacGillivray’s Warbler will be among them.  Around the drowned sticks and thickets aurrounding waterbodies a Northern Waterthrush, a bird that used to regularly breed in riparian tangles along the Valley bottom but which now is mostly restricted as  nesting bird to high elevation ponds, may give its sharp, loud call note as it constantly dips its hind end and climbs amid the stalks above the water. Wilson’s Warblers are also high elevation nesters but pass through the Valley at almost all levels on their way south, bright yellow birds among the many shades of green shadows around the thickets.

A drab autumn-plumaged Western Tanager in a Saskatoon bush. Photo by C. Siddle.

The Western Tanager is a common fruit-eater, coming out of the forest like the Swainson's Thrush to reap the benefit of the berry bushes. Don't expect to see the yellow and black males (wearing a small red cap in the spring) however; most late summer and autumn Westerns are studies in green and yellow.

Spotted Towhee in molt from its brown sparrow-like plumage (seen on its head in this case) and its more adult like black, white and rufous. Photo by C. Siddle. 

Towhees stay in the same brushy habitat throughout their spring-to-fall residency in the Okanagan so it's not surprising that they are seen in the fruit thickets. Juvenal Spotted Towhees, initially streaked like overgrown Song Sparrows, molt into new sets of adult-like feathers while juvenal Chipping Sparrows, among the most common of mid-August sparrows, shows streaked underparts until they molt into the plain unstreaked gray chests and bellies of their immature plumage.

Cassie's Finch gobbling Saskatoon berries halfway up Silver Stare Mtn, .late July 2017. Note how the squashed fruit obscures the beak, possibly even temporarily staining it. 

One or two Black-headed Grosbeaks can usually be found among the hawthorns, while Lazuli Buntings like elderberries and are most commonly seen in mid-to-late August in drab female-like plumage. House Finches are common and conspicuous atop thickets but Cassin’s Finches are much more local and can look awfully scruffy and confusing to birders at this time of year. Finally, completing the suite of birds of the gulleys and thickets of late summer, are American Goldfinches, always present where there is water for them to drink and bath in.

Red-osier Dogwood (Cornus stolonifera) with its small white berries. Note the red stems which separate this species from the common Snowberry Bush which has similar looking fruit. Osier is an Old French word for willows used in basketwork. Photo by C. Siddle. 

Some thicket sites where birding can be rewarding:

NORTH OKANAGAN

Gray Canal Trail – Vernon

Gray Canal Road

Glenhayes Rd – Gray Canal section

Goose Lake – Vernon

Kalamalka Prov. Park – thickets around Cosens Bay

Southern sections of Otter Lake Rd – toward Armstrong

Desert Cove Estates – along Deep Creek

Birding late summer thickets may introduce the observer to identification challenges due to  molt, unfamiliar immature plumages, and excessive feather wear. Believe it or not, this is a Cassin's Finch. Photo by C. Siddle

LAKE COUNTRY

Beaver Lake Road – access to best habitat limited

Winfield Creek Preserve

CENTRAL OKANAGAN

Chichester Wetland Park

Railway tracks behind Scandia – Kelowna

Mission Creek Regional Park – Sutherland Hills division

Kalamoir Regional Park

House Wren fledgling. Photo by C. Siddle.

SOUTH OKANAGAN

White Lake Road between St. Andrews and the Observatory

Sawmill Lake

McIntyre Road, Vaseux Lake

The interactions of birds and berries is an intricate subject with many features that I have not touched upon in my superficial introduction. If you are interested in exploring the topic, try Birds and Berries: A Study of an Ecological Interaction by Barbara and David Snow. 1988.  T&A.D. Poyser, Town Head House, Carlton, Waterhouses, Staffordshire, England.

Juvenal Lazuli Bunting. Photo by C. Siddle.

Birding with Special Ed

Every July for the past three years we have babysat our friend's dog that I will call Special Ed, to give you a hint of the joys and the troubles we have consequently experienced. Ed doesn't travel well so when our friend, Donna, heads south for a well-earned break from school teaching, she takes her older dog, Toby, as a well behaved travel companion but delivers Ed to us. Our house becomes Ed's summer camp. Along with Ed comes cans and bags of his special diet, though if Ed had his way, he would eat almost anything including, we've discovered, grapes, lettuce, apricots, carpet fluff, all carbohydrates, the odd coffee bean, jujubes, dental floss, and Q-tips.

Donna also delivers his toys - one small plushy flying saucer that squeaks when you press it, and a tug toy my wife braided out of soft but tough felt. Rarely does he play with his toys. Sometimes during a long nap he might rest his outsized muzzle on the tug toy as a sort of nose pillow; otherwise he ignores the items. Unless I happen to pick one up to visually suggest a game of fetch. That's when Special Ed exhibits his predominant personality trait - insecurity. When there's something Ed can't figure out, like having a toy tossed to him, or some other event that happening quickly or loudly or both, Ed reacts by barking nervously. Tail and head down, he scuttles out of the room as if I had yelled at him and raised my hand in anger. Weird.

In many other situations, Ed knows pretty much what is going on. Like all dogs, the Shetland Sheepdog, even a slightly defective one like Ed, knows that good things especially food come from human beings. And so Ed studies me as I enter the kitchen and approach the cupboards.  Ed may be a tad ackwards-bay in certain areas but in the subject of the location of food he's top dog.  It took him one short visit to the kitchen to learn that the dog treats are stored in the lower right cupboard. Ed also knows that if I am going to prepare a meal on the counter, the odd tidbit might fall onto the floor. And so he waits, patiently, for gravity to bring him a chance gift. As far as food goes, Ed is a perfectly normal dog.

What Ed abhores above all else is surprise. He understands that humans eat, cook, give him a treat, talk, sit, walk, sleep, and eat but he's always surprised, shocked even, when one of us coughs or sneezes. A cough comes from nowhere and he just doesn't understand it. He leaps up and barks loudly. A sudden sneeze sends Ed into a frenzy. Tail up, ears up, he involuntarliy dances, his barks overlapping into a roar. Other surprises that Ed should be prepared for but never is are the arrival of visitors, the shutting of doors, thunder, the turning on of any noisy appliance, and the forementioned tossing of toys. Ed also barks at things undetectable to human beings, sounds we cannot hear, smells we cannot detect and perhaps vapours caught in the passages of his narrow skull.

No matter how frustrated I become by Ed's sudden loud outraged outbursts, which prompt similar outbursts from me, I still like him a lot and find him a good companion. As a Shetland Sheepdog, though hardly a visual paragon of the breed - his narrow head is too big, his legs are too short, his body is too lumpy - he does like to herd Sonja and I into close proximity to him and he happily watches over us, which I guess is the other important part of shepherding. If Sonja goes to the basement and I go to the second floor Ed will sit miserably on the main floor and howl to bring us back to him.

Birding with Ed is slightly challenging. It's not that he chases, or even notices, birds. Honestly I can't remember a single instance of Ed reacting to a bird. It's as if he doesn't see them. In this regard he is much like your non-birding human friends, except Ed never complains that the damned birds wake him up spring mornings and that something should be done about all the "noise" they make.

Birding with Ed means walking with Ed, because he cannot abide riding in vehicles. There's no arguing about where he's going to sit, fussing with seatbelts, complaining about the funny smell in your car, or nattering about the birds we didn't see the ways your friends will so often do. So once again, Ed comes out as a better companion, mostly silent and mostly content to be on the end of a leash.

Ed does not tug on his leash to go faster. Unlike some human friends he is content to stay within a small radius with me as the centre of his attention, mostly, except when he finds something that smells intriguing on the ground. I wish I could say the same about my human birding companions. They wander, they chatter, and at times they apparently don't hear a thing I have said. OK, so they don't spend much time sniffing at dead things on the ground, but in comparison with Ed that's about all human birding companions have over my canine friend.

I know that some birders keep life lists for their dogs. I don't keep one for Ed for reasons I have already stated. I have a fantasy that one day some largish loud bird, say a Ring-necked Pheasant or a California Quail will bellow in Ed's ears and he will acknowledge that yes something disturbed him, but I know he will never ask me if we can get a better look at the bird, or ask me when are we going to see a Chukar. Again, Ed comes out on top of the dog versus human comparison.

But let me turn the idea of a list for Ed on its head. Let's face it, many of our lists are just a little frivolous. I know birders who keep lists of wild birds seen on TV, birds seen from the office, birds the lister has photographed, and birds copulating. I could start a list of Birds I have Seen but Ed has Ignored while on walks with him. Let's see ... he failed to acknowledge the Violet-green Swallows and White-throated Swifts that flew just above the rim of Cougar Canyon between Coldstream and Oyama a couple of springs ago. He was not impressed by the Canyon Wren that paid us a visit during that same walk or the several Townsend's Solitares that sang around the snags on the trail into the canyon. Once, atop Silver Star Mountain, his dog buddy, Toby, was startled when we flushed some young Dusky Grouse just a few metres in front of us but good old oblivious Ed was looking the other way and missed these chicken-sized birds entirely as they rocketed out of the fireweed.  Ed has missed the everyday and the rare. He has walked by the late summer flutter of goldfinches in the thistles and unknowingly passed into the shadow of a soaring Golden Eagle riding out a sudden spring storm. It would be fun to dig back into my fieldbooks and see what I could come up with for such a list.  Meanwhile, Ed, spending the final day of his summer vacation with us, is standing in the hallways barking at nothing in particular. Yes, I'll miss Ed when he goes home, but there's always next summer.

Ed at Cougar Canyon 2013. Photo by the author.

Maybe next summer he will be quieter. Maybe next summer he will find peace in the contemplation of nature. Why just this morning while Sonja and I were having coffee on the patio, I saw Ed notice, WITH INTEREST, a furry beige caterpillar rippling by on the cement. Hey, it wasn't a bird but it was a start.