Tag: #birds

The Bufflehead

The Bufflehead

It was Easter Sunday and Cath and I were taking Carmen for a walk. As we returned, we noticed something white on a tree branch in the pond. Initially, we thought a plastic bag was caught on a limb, but soon realized we had a first-time visitor to the farm – a Bufflehead Duck.

That’s Bufflehead. Not Buffethead or Parrothead, of which there are plenty in this area.

The pond is wonderful for animal and bird watching. I’m not a birder, but we do keep an Audubon Field Guide to North American Birds available, tracking both regular and visiting species. In addition to the normal Blue Jays, Cardinals, Robins, Bluebirds, Finches, Hummingbirds, Hawks, Owls and occasional Eagle, we have numerous waterbirds who fly in. Geese and Ducks arrive during their migrations. Herons stop by to fish. They stand stone quiet in the water, silently awaiting their opportunity. Deer, raccoon and the occasional bear visit as well. Regular readers of this blog will recall that two River Otters* were guests at the farm about a year ago.

For the past couple of years, a pair of geese and a pair of wood ducks have shared the pond and called it home. The geese are noisy and brazen, making sure everyone knows it’s their place. The ducks are quieter, often staying in the brush out of sight.

Then, a little over a week ago, this guy showed up and joined the party. We’ve not had a previous visit from a Bufflehead Duck, or at least none I’m aware of in the past 25 years. As a matter of fact, until his visit, I didn’t know such a duck existed. Starkly black and white, he was hard to miss and cut quite the figure. Going to our Audubon, I found it pretty quickly – a male Bufflehead. As is often true in nature, the males are more colorful than their female counterparts.

Our Bufflehead Duck, Just Hanging out

I read up on them in the Audubon and online. It turns out they migrate from Canada to Florida or Mexico and aren’t that unusual here in Virginia. They are evidently more often on the Chesapeake Bay, but according to our birding friend, Linda, they are definitely here in the Virginia Piedmont as well. Described as “short and chunky”, they are also known as Butterballs and Buffalo Heads.

Why this one was alone, I’m not sure. They normally travel in small groups, not big flocks. Maybe his buds were somewhere else in the area, or perhaps he became separated or injured. There is no way to know.

After three days, he was still here. Except for the occasional swim or dive for food, he hung out on the same tree limb sticking out of the water. It was as if someone posted a sign – “Bufflehead Roosting Only”. He’d definitely claimed the branch as his own. It’s worth noting this is the same branch the River Otters sat on a year ago. It must provide a good vantage point. Usually he swam alone, but occasionally I would see him with the Wood Ducks paddling around together.

Hanging Out Alone, at the “Bufflehead Roosting Only” Branch

One morning, he and the male Wood Duck were hanging out on the branch together. They didn’t appear to be talking or comparing notes. They were both just sitting there, very Zen like.

How long will he stay? We don’t know. As with the River Otters a year ago, we are enjoying his visit. When I feed the horses around 7AM, I make a short side trip to the pond and look for him. So far, he’s been sitting on the “Bufflehead Roosting Only” branch each morning. Later in the day, Cath and I both occasionally see him swimming around the pond or diving for food. He’s quite the character and has made himself at home on the farm. It’s over a week now, and he’s still hanging out, providing a little extra joy and color to the pond.

Our Guest, Diving for Dinner One Evening

Addendum:

  • Update: On April 12th, eleven days after his arrival and two days after this blog was published, our guest disappeared. Perhaps some animal caught him, but I like to think he resumed his migration north. I hope he enjoyed his time at Rohan Farm as much as we enjoyed seeing him.
  • * Here’s the story of the River Otters that visited us for about a month last year: “This February, we had visitors on the farm. While it took a bit of time to confirm their identity, we eventually did. Two river otters took up residence at our pond and provided both joy and sadness” […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2023/02/28/guests-at-the-pond/

Sounds of Silence

Sounds of Silence

It was an early winter morning a little before sunrise – that liminal period of time between darkness and light. When I left the house to feed the horses, it was so quiet, the silence felt deafening. I soon discovered the opposite was true. In that cold predawn stillness, sound was everywhere, once I started listening.

That Liminal Period Between Darkness and Light.

I have to admit on most mornings, I’m on autopilot as I walk to the barn. Typically, I’ve only been up about ten or fifteen minutes and haven’t yet had my coffee. It’s pretty rote – walk to the barn, feed the cats, feed the horses and return to the house to make coffee.

I suppose I have the sudden snorting of a buck to thank for my change on this particular day. I stopped and tried to pinpoint his location in the paddock, but couldn’t see him. The question of whether he was sounding an alarm, or merely indicating curiosity was soon answered – I heard muffled footfalls, and then saw six deer leaping our fence before clamoring into a neighbor’s field. Our dog Carmen and I were both so startled, neither of us did anything except watch them go, their white tails vivid in the half-light. I have no idea why Carmen didn’t chase them – it was the first of three unusual non-actions on her part that morning.

The deer must have disturbed some nearby turkeys, as two of them started “gobbling” in the woods by the pond. I looked for them as well, but couldn’t tell if they were on the ground, or the low branches of a tree. Carmen, for the second time that morning, did nothing.

By now, my ears were evidently alert, as I heard a woodpecker tapping near the side of the house. A few footsteps later, the whinnies of our neighbors’ horses came from about 100 yards away. That was unusual for them at this time of the morning. Perhaps something was about, as they were joined by the barking of our friend’s dogs, Jonah and Jebson, about a quarter mile down Swains Road. Carmen’s ears pricked up. Much like the dog telegraph in the movie, 101 Dalmatians, the two frequently start a message that circulates among the other dogs in the neighborhood. This morning, Carmen must have decided they were just gossiping – after listening for a second, she trotted to the barn, with nary a bark.

Jonah and Jebson Trying to Look Innocent

It was chilly in the barn and there was a skim of ice on the water buckets. Our cats, Ollie and Mama Cat, stared silently at me, waiting for their breakfast. The horses weren’t so quiet. Stella and Katie nickered, snorted and pawed the ground. They too wanted their breakfast, but made a much bigger demonstration than the cats about it.

I fed the cats and then the horses, left the barn and started making my way back to the house. It was nearing sunrise now and there was some color in the eastern sky. Carmen and I stopped for a moment just outside the barn and looked to the east. We disturbed a couple of crows who scolded us with their caws, but the cardinals in the nearby evergreen didn’t seem to mind our presence and continued to sing their song of CHEER, CHEER, CHEER ,,, PRETTY, PRETTY ,, PRETTY, PRETTY!

Color and Light in the Eastern Sky.

I thought about the birds and animals, both tame and wild, who were there to greet Carmen and I that morning. It brought to mind one of my favorite quotes from Maya Angelou – “Listen to yourself and in that quietude you might hear the voice of God.” While watching the sun rise that morning, I had an additional thought – In the quietude of a winter’s morning, hear the voices of God’s creatures and feel blessed, for we are all God’s creatures.