Exploring Kootenay Lake

The kingbird is a large summer flycatcher. It is actually two birds: eastern and western. I have seen the less common western feeding its chicks, but until a few days ago, had not seen the more common eastern feeding them. Amazingly, in one day, I watched two local Eastern Kingbird nests where the adults were very busy feeding their chicks.

An Eastern Kingbird feeds one of its four chicks. The nest has been built on a cylindrical TV transmission device on a line between utility poles. This was probably a good choice for the bird’s protection from predators.

Here, a parent is giving them a dragonfly.

A half kilometre away was another Eastern Kingbird nest with four smaller chicks.

Both parents were involved in feeding them. The mother was panting in the day’s heat.

Birds breed in the spring, and then, in the early summer, they raise their chicks. The chicks must go from eggs, to hatchlings, to fledglings, to independent birds during the season. It is a big task for them, but a huge task for their parents. 

At this time of year, both parents are often involved in feeding their chicks. This is a full-time job involving finding food, flying it to the nest, feeding the chicks, and removing the faecal sacs. This is done repeatedly throughout daylight hours.

I have watched a number of nests, but this posting is about a Tree Swallow couple and their cavity nest. (Tree Swallows seem to favour cavity nests previously made by humans or flickers.) This posting shows three pictures of swallow parents both coming and going adjacent to the nest cavity.

One of the parents typically sits at the cavity opening while the other hunts for food, in this case grubs or insects. When the other parent is seen approaching, the watching parent flies off to hunt, and the process is reversed. They cross the picture space near the cavity in a small fraction of a second, usually on their own. Very occasionally they both appear in the same shot. It is these pictures that I have shown. 

The male Tree Swallow approaches with food in his mouth for the chicks in the cavity nest. Having fed the chicks with her offerings, the female leaves the nest to go hunting.

Here the female approaches with an insect dangling out of her mouth, while the male leaves to find more chick food.

Food brought t0 the chicks is not always evident as it is may be inside the adult’s mouth.

Frequently, one or the other will leave the cavity nest with a faecal sac. This is carried far away from the nest and dropped where it will not attract predators to the nest.

A couple of days ago, we first saw a chick at the nest opening. I looked forward to the chicks sticking their heads out and begging on subsequent days.

One of the chicks appeared at the nest hole merely to wonder at the strange world outside. Photo by Cynthia Fraser.

Early the next morning, there were no chicks, no adults, and the cavity nest had been attacked. The likely culprit was a racoon. It has the power and dexterity to rip open the cavity nest. Undoubtedly the chicks, which could not yet fly, were eaten. The parents flew off. Some detached feathers can be seen behind the broken side. Photo by Cynthia.

As a solace for the death of these chicks, here is a shot from another nest cavity of a parent placing food into the chick’s mouth. This chick apparently fledged and left.

Kootenay Lake has Horned Grebes, but the area is just south of the breeding region, so the bird almost always appears in its non-breeding plumage. It is correspondingly rare to see one in its breeding plumage and yesterday was the first time I have seen one on the West Arm of the lake.

The Horned Grebe in its breeding plumage is a striking bird. During breeding, light horn-like tufts appear on each side of the head, hence the name. Photo by Cynthia Fraser.

But as this older picture demonstrates, the Horned Grebe in its non-breeding plumage is barely recognizable as the same bird. Maybe the red eye gives it away.

It is unclear whether this Horned Grebe will breed here, or head somewhat north to do so.

The drilled rows of holes in a tree are the work of the Red-naped Sapsucker, a western woodpecker. I start with an old picture of the sapsucker and the drilled holes. Yet, it isn’t frequently that one sees one in any guise. So, I welcomed an invitation from a friend to visit a nest cavity that he discovered on his property. The sapsuckers are now busily feeding their chicks in the nest, but these chicks have yet to grow big enough to peek out of the cavity. Maybe that will soon come.

This first picture was taken 14 years ago. It shows a Red-naped Sapsucker that has carved rows of holes in the bark of a tree to then sip the nectar and eat the attracted bugs (June 9, 2010). I have seen it a few times since, but not the carving of holes.

Now, return to the present. It is the practice of many birds after fetching some food, to not fly directly to the nest, but to stop at a nearby tree and look for predators. On finding none, they then fly to their nest.

The male then moves to the cavity nest with a beak full of soft-bodied insects.

Both male and female sapsuckers tend the nest. The male is leaving, the female arriving.

The male flies off to get more food for the chicks. It is a constant task.

Around sunset last night, I was watching an adult male Northern Flicker stare out of a nest cavity where it had presumably brought food for a yet-to-appear chick. As it flew off, I pressed the camera button.

The momentary juxtaposition of the head and the underside of the wing made the wing look like a headdress. So, look at this picture, not as of a flicker, but of a strange creature with an elaborate feather headdress.

Mating among birds, while essential for survival, goes by amazingly quickly. For these Tree Swallows, from the arrival picture to the departure picture, only a second transpired. But the mating was accomplished.

A male flies to a female, who is already lifting her tail to provide access to her cloaca. 

He arrives on her and adjusts his tail so their cloaca make contact and sperm is passed.

Then a second after arriving, he lifts off. But he will stay with her to help raise their chicks.

The Yellow Warbler is a long-distant migrant that is here from May to September. But just try to photograph it. It is small and very fast as it flits from place to place. My daughter, Cynthia, found a nest it was creating and we occasionally have been watching it — from a distance.

So far we have not been close to the Yellow Warbler, so I have included a picture from a few years ago where, by happenstance, I passed by quite close to one.

In its foraging around its nest it now seemed to be searching for fluff. Photo by Cynthia.

The fluff was returned to its nest for padding around eggs and chicks. Photo by Cynthia.

It probably has yet to lay an egg. It seems to still be building the nest.

This year, I did not catch dipper chicks in the nest. But we did capture them in the creek being fed by a parent.

Three dipper chicks stand with their mouths agape and their wings raised as they beg their parent (in the foreground) for some food. 

The parent brings some food to the anxiously waiting chicks.

The chick’s yellow gape is what prompts the parent to place food there. Photo by Cynthia.

A dipper parent feeds a dipper chick a bug. Photo by Cynthia.