One of my favorite backyard birds is the summer tanager.  The male is Georgia’s only all red bird.  Unfortunately, I do not see summer tanagers as often as I would like.  In fact, I see more bathing in birdbaths than moving about the canopies of the numerous trees scattered across my property.  Fortunately, for the past few weeks I have been hearing them practically every day calling from the canopy of the numerous trees scattered about my property, their picky-tucky-tuck call is unmistakable.

       If I saw the birds more often, perhaps I would have better luck watching them capture wasps and bees. Tanagers catch these insects in flight.  When a tanager captures one of these stinging insects it lands and beats them against a branch and removes the insect’s stinger.  Studies have found that a single tanager may capture and eat 10-20 wasps and bees a day.

       If you just happen to see a summer tanager this summer, spend some time watching it.  Perhaps you will see the gorgeous bird capture and eat a bee or wasp. Now that would be something!

       The barred owl will sometimes nest in neighborhoods blessed with mature trees. Often the only way you might know birds are living close by is to hear their calls.  The birds’ vocalization sounds like they are saying, “Who cooks for you?  Who cooks for you all?”

       Whether they nest in your neck of the woods is often determined by whether or not they have suitable nesting sites.  The birds typically nest to hollow trees, however, when one is not present, they will nest in the stick nests of large birds such as red-shouldered hawks.

       If you want to encourage them to nest nearby,  erect a barred owl nesting box.  These huge nest boxes look like bluebird boxes on steroids.

       Since of the bird’s favorite food is the gray squirrel, folks that are vainly trying to keep squirrels away from their bird feeders should welcome these large fascinating birds to their neighborhood.

       If you would like to receive barred own nest box plans, and information on how you can certify you backyard in the Community Wildlife Project (sponsored by the Georgia Wildlife Resources Davison, TERN (The environmental Resources Network and the Garden Club of Georgia), email Melissa Hayes (melissa.hayes@dnr.ga.gov)

       Nobody likes to hear the sound of a bird striking a window.  One of the ways that we can reduce mortalities caused by birds hitting windows is by locating feeders within no more than three feet of a window.  The reason why this technique works is when a bird leaves a feeder so close to a window, it cannot get up enough momentum to suffer a fatal injury. 

       I will discuss other ways to prevent window strikes in future columns.

        Now that November has arrived, we have entered Georgia’s Second Hummingbird Season.  This special time of the year extends from November through February. During these four months, Georgians have the best opportunity to spot see a rufous and other unusual hummingbirds.  Consequently, many hummingbird fanciers maintain a feeder throughout these coldest months of the year.

       Since we rarely see winter hummingbirds, it is easy to forget that hummingbird feeders should be kept clean and filled with fresh nectar.  Dirty feeders containing fluid that is contaminated with mold and bacteria are potentially harmful to the birds using them.

How often feeders should be cleaned and refilled with, fresh fluid is determined by the temperature of the air.  As such, those Georgians that live in South Georgia where winters are milder than anywhere else in the state, will have to clean and refill feeders more often than those of us the live in Middle and North Georgia.

       If the temperature reaches into the 80s and above, it would be a good idea to change sugar water at least every three to four days.  If daily highs average in the 70s, you might be able to go up to a week before refilling your feeder.  When the daily high temperatures drop to 60 or below, nectar will sometimes remain fresh well more than a week.  If the nectar becomes cloudy, however, you have waited too long.

      I hope you will host one or more winter hummingbirds in your yard this winter.  Unfortunately, chances are one will not appear. If one does show up, you are in for a real treat!   Good luck!     

        I have often wondered how many species of native bees forage in my backyard.  I have long realized that my yard hosts a variety of native species.  However, not being an expert in bee identification, all I can say is that a number of native bee species are hard at work in my yard each day.  This observation is based solely on the colors, patterns, and sizes of the bees that I see.

       Research conducted by University of Georgia suggest our yards are homes to far more native bees than most of us would have ever have imagined.  In a two-year study of bee populations living yards in Athens, Georgia, they were able to locate more than 100 species of native bees.  What makes this figure even more remarkable is these urban bees represent roughly 20 percent of the 500+ species of native bees known to exist in the entire Peach State.

       Interestingly, the yards where the greatest diversity of bees was found were adjacent to patches of forested habitat.

        Moths are among the most unappreciated backyard inhabitants.  Although many are just as beautiful as the most gorgeous butterflies, we rarely see them since many primarily fly at night.  A good example of one of these nocturnal beauties is the banded sphinx (Euromorpha fasciatus).

       Kim Walton (the administrator for this blog) recently found one of these moths lying on the ground in her garage one morning as she was about to leave.   Although the moth was alive, it did not attempt to fly away.

       The banded sphinx is a large moth (3.4 inches).  It lays its eggs on a number of host plants including water primrose, grape, and Virginia creeper. 

       It is a nocturnal feeder.  While we are asleep, it is flying about nectaring at a variety of plants.

       Since the banded sphinx ranges across the entire state, if you keep your eyes peeled, you might find one of these strikingly beautiful moths in your yard too.

       Each year a pair of chimney swifts nests in our chimney.  We are never sure when they begin building their nest or begin incubating a clutch of anywhere from two to seven eggs.  In fact, throughout most of their time with us, aside from seeing them flying into the chimney at dusk, we would never know they were roosting and nesting in our chimney. In fact, it is only after the young have hatched do we begin hearing twittering sounds coming down the chimney.

       In spite of the fact that chimney swifts live in close proximity to humans, we know very little about them.  This is large because they spend their days flying about catching insects. In addition, they nest in chimneys that are often difficult to monitor.

       For that reason, it is not surprising that my wife and I do not know when they begin nesting.  If the birds that nest in our chimney are typical, both the male and female build the nest, incubate a clutch of two to seven eggs, and feed the young.  At times, an unmated adult will serve as a helper.

       The eggs are incubated anywhere from 16-21 days.  When the young hatch, they grow rapidly.  When the youngsters are around 20 days old some tend to get a little rambunctious and flap their wings while standing on the edge of the nest.  Some will even crawl out of the nest and hang on the inside of the chimney. 

       Finally, when they fledge and leave the safety of the chimney, they form small groups of other fledglings and adults, which eventually form larger flocks before migrating to South America.

       The only time we know the young are in our chimney is when the parents return to feed them.  On such occasions, they begin rapidly twittering. These sounds increase in volume as they grow.  Sometimes we will even hear them begin chattering when we hear a loud clap of thunder during the night.

       The sounds are never annoying.  In fact, it is pleasing to hear these sounds of nature filtering down our chimney rather than the loud sounds made by vehicles passing in front of our home.

       Consequently, when we stopped hearing the twittering of the chimney swifts this past week, we knew they had fledged.  Each day since, we have listened in vain for their calling.  We now realize we must wait until next summer to be the proud hosts of another family of chimney swifts. 

       When they departed, I wish they could have taken some of the highway noise with them.