Exploring Kootenay Lake

It is not everyday that one sees one, let alone three, owls. Seen were the smallest of our owls, the Northern Pygmy Owl, and the largest, two Great Horned Owls. (In fairness, the Snowy Owl is even bigger, but it is rarely seen locally, and then only when it has wandered far off course.) The owls are presented in the opposite order in which they were seen during last week’s visit to the Creston Flats.

The Pygmy Owl is unusual in both hunting during the day, and being the smallest of our owls. The eyeballs of an owl are not spherical and so cannot be rotated in their sockets. Consequently, to look around, an owl must rotate its head, something facilitated by extra neck vertebrae. A composite of two pictures taken of a pygmy sitting on a great mullein illustrates. Without turning its body, the left image shows it looking towards the camera, while the right image shows it looking the other way. The back of its head reveals two fake-eye spots. If you are small, it helps to imply you are always wary.

This Great Horned Owl was seen sleeping on private property, so it wasn’t possible to get closer. What is difficult to realize by comparing this picture with the previous one is the great size disparity: the Great Horned is about twenty times the weight of a Northern Pygmy. This is one big bird.

Named for both its size (great), and the feathered tufts on its head (horned), the Great Horned Owl has become a movie cliche. Despite the fact that only two species of owls hoot (the other is the Barred Owl), every spooky nighttime movie scene must include the hoots of a Great Horned Owl.

When a Great Horned Owl flies, it flattens its feathered tufts, and this reduces both drag and aerodynamic noise. When this owl flies after prey, few escape. Notably, it regularly takes skunks (it seems impervious to the smell). Germain to the present situation, it regularly attacks and eats the Rough-legged Hawk, a raptor with which it shares the Creston Flats in the winter.

Yesterday, my backyard thermometer rose to +5° C for the first time in over a month. And with the warmth, Ruffed Grouse reappeared — two of them seen over 3 km apart.

The first grouse sat motionless in the bush and appeared to be a log butt showing its grain.

The second grouse didn’t feel any need to hide. It brazenly crossed my path confident that its plumage offered camouflage even in snow. It seems destined to make some coyote very happy.

Fresh from having seen Trumpeter Swans in Kokanee Creek Park, I have now seen an accipiter there. 

Accipiters are a genus of hawks; They are not a species. Accipiters are distinguished by short, broad wings which have been adapted for fast flight through woods. As such, accipiters would seem to be a comfortable fit to our highly wooded Park.

But, which accipiter did I see? The picture, below, suggests two likely choices: Cooper’s Hawk, Sharp-shinned Hawk. At first I guessed one, but then decided from the picture that it was probably the other. 

However, rather than influence the few hard-core birders who subscribe to my blog, I leave it to them to tell me what it was that I saw in the Park.

Sometimes, persistence pays. Four days ago, I watched two swans circle over the bay to the west of Kokanee Creek Park. The next day I head reports of them, but failed to find them — they were in the vicinity, but where?

Today, I was looking for something else when friends said, “There are two swans at the bottom of this path….” Finally, I managed a shot.

However, there was a striking feature I had seen before: geese and dabbling ducks were keeping company with the swans. I suspect that their motivations had to do with the long necks of swans. All of these bird forage in the shallows by tipping down and using their long necks to scour the bottom. The longest necks belong to swans; they are able to forage to depths where geese and ducks cannot. But, if swans are present to stir up detritus on the bottom, geese and dabbling ducks can pick it off as it floats near the surface. So, it is that others like to hang out with swans.

Trumpeter Swans forage and attract Canada Geese and Mallards that take advantage of the activities. 

It is a mystery: Why are woodpeckers attacking the soffits of my home now that it is cold out?

About the only time I had previously seen woodpeckers attack my home was in the spring when male Northern Flickers hammer on the metal flange of the chimney. They have discovered that thin metal provides a more impressive sound than does a tree and so more effectively demonstrate prowess to a potential mate. 

Yet, a couple of weeks ago, a Pileated Woodpecker made a racket as it probed under the chimney’s flange. As it was making a clatter at my chimney on Christmas morning, and as it wore a red cap, I succumbed to the temptation to suggest this was actually Santa Claus. 

I thought nothing more of it. But then, a male Pileated Woodpecker returned and probed a soffit for comestibles. A few hours later a Northern Flicker did likewise. After years of not bothering to look for arthropods in my siding, why were woodpeckers suddenly taking an interest in the house?

Throughout this period, it has been cold. Woodpeckers have probed trees, pilings, and utility poles during other winters, but what is it about the wooden siding of a house that attracts them now? I don’t know.

A Pileated Woodpecker probes for grubs along the soffit of my home.

A few hours later, a Northern Flicker does likewise.