The Oilbird

This bird may not seem ugly at first appearance, but wait till you get the details. Here's a colorful quote:

"Raucous shrieking and frightful retching… which might express the sufferings of sea-sick demons." Not a passage from Milton, though this description by the early 20th-century zoologist John Golding Myers does describe his entry to a kind of earthly hell: a cave of roosting oilbirds...

This split-personality, cave-dwelling oddity, known to North Americans as the guacharo, doesn't seem to know whether it is bat or bird. It echolocates like a bat to perceive its surroundings, but as well as this crude form of sonar, the oilbird has the most sensitive eyes of any vertebrate.

Photo source: Robert Siegler

And then there's this:

As Myers noted, oilbirds spend much of their time squabbling in caves, in colonies numbering up to 20,000 birds. Because of the immense numbers living there, the floor is carpeted with guano, which supports a host of insects and other small animals. The birds also put the guano to good use during the breeding season: they build nests with it.

These birds may be vital to their forests's health, but that doesn't mean I want to spend a night in an oilbird cave.

Thanks for the new bird, Morgan (a resident bird expert). And good luck in your studies.

Grateful

I used to think it a crime that so much color could be wasted on a vulture. But I'm now grateful that I can look at pinks and lavenders and blues instead of the typical naked pate. Still, though, why the stern gaze? I'm glad they keep to carrion.

Photo source: hsc 70

RIP Thaao

Andean condors typically live to be 50 years old. Not so with Thaao (pronounced TAY'-oh). He lived to be 80 years old. He was born in the wild, where only a few thousand still remain, but spent most of his life in captivity.

Though he wasn't cuddly with humans, he was quite helpful in developing captive breeding programs. I imagine he lived a life that many a young man can only dream of.

RIP, Thaao. And thanks for the article, Ida.

Photo source: LA Times

Commiserate

Anyone know what kind of bird this is? I want to ID it so I can commiserate with it. I know exactly how it feels. I think the two of us would have a lot in common.

Photo source

Out on a Dinner Date

There's something so poetic about this picture: the dead tree and the gray clouds juxtaposed against the almost romantic pose of this pair of lappet-faced vultures. I can imagine them flying up to get a good view of the new carcass, giving each other a loving squawk, and then descending to bully their way to the front of the gathered carrion-eating crowd to tear at the hide of the dead beast.

Is that so different from when I take my wife out on a dinner date? Um, yes, I guess it is. Please, no one tell her I compared these two to the two of us.

Photo source: Vearl Brown

Lizzy the Bald Emu

Michaela had raised her emu Lizzy from the moment she hatched. So when Lizzy began going bald at the tender age of one, it was a real mystery.

Lizzy lived in the same enclosure with a couple of kangaroos, and everything seemed to be normal, save for the loss of Lizzy's feathers. The poor bird was getting sunburnt during the day and cold at night. On top of that, the replacement feathers were growing back like painful in-grown hairs. (As an aside, look at that pathetic wing and see why these birds are flightless).






















But then one day, Michaela saw her sweet and harmless kangaroo Leah pluck a feather from Lizzy's body and eat it. It was then that Michaela realized that despite all of the feathers lost, not a single one was on the ground. They were probably all in Leah the Kangaroo's belly. The feather stealing must have been happening at night.


















But this tale of loss and woe ends well. Michaela separated the emu from the kangaroos, and she has since grown back all of her feathers. She now has free access to Michaela's 10,000 acre property.

Let this be a word to the wise: if your emu ever starts going bald, look to your kangaroos first.

Thanks for the photos, Michaela. I'm glad Lizzy is in full plumage once again.

Shoe Bills

The shoebill is one of my favorite birds, though I've never seen one in person. They get very large, upwards of 115-150 cm (45-64 in) tall, with a wingspan of 230-260 cm (91-125 in).

I imagine that bill can do some damage, given that it's used to scoop up and devour small crocodiles. They're even reported to feed on young calves. They were known to ancient Arabs, who called them abu markub, meaning father with a shoe. They've even been spotted in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.

That shoe bill, which is indeed the size of an adult human shoe, is not only used in devastating attacks, but can be filled with water, which the mother uses to dowse her young in the nest. I'm not sure why she'd do that. But then, if I could fill my mouth with a couple of pints of water, I'd probably dowse all sorts of people--the kids, my wife, coworkers, passersby... I wouldn't have many friends.

Walk the Wilderness

If you want to see a superior nature blog that features original photography of Indian wildlife, then you must visit Walk the Wilderness. It's run by Thomas and Shilpy, who visit various wildlife sanctuaries to capture amazing shots. Not only do they detail the wildlife, but they also discuss how the shot was taken, with what equipment, and how the image was processed after the fact.

My only complaint about Walk the Wilderness is that there aren't nearly enough ugly animals on it. Instead, they have elephants and tigers and peacocks and leopards. Take this photo they took of a painted stork. It's but one in a fantastic series. The only thing that qualifies it for this blog is that we get to see an inordinate amount of its wrinkly orange scalp. Even then, the more I look at it, especially at those eyes, the prettier I find it.



















Check out their site. You won't be disappointed. Then come back here once you've been detoxified.

Thanks, Thomas and Shilpy. You've got a good thing going.

Silvery-cheeked Hornbill

Whenever I see a hornbill, and I behold that mighty beak and its casque, all I see is a massive wedge of toenail, complete with fungal infection. I want to call my grandpa's podiatrist and have him prescribe these birds some sort of anti-fungus medication, anything to mend what seems to be a jagged mass of bone and keratin.

Like other hornbills, the silvery-cheeked hornbill is a smart bird. They inhabit tall evergreen forests in eastern Africa, from the Sudan and Ethiopia, all the way sown to south Africa. They feast on almost anything they can get their beak on, including fruits, insects, and small vertebrates.

Photo source: Helen Grose



















Silvery-cheeked hornbills are dutiful parents. They share the task of incubating the eggs in a nest cavity. Once the eggs hatch, the female seals herself in the nest with the chicks until they are half grown. Meanwhile, daddy brings home fruit in his gullet and regurgitates them for the family. At one such nest it was estimated that the male brought home 24,000 fruits in a 120-day breeding cycle (200 fruits a day!).

My kids may not always like what we put on the table for dinner, but they need to count their blessings that I don't come home from work with an engorged gullet and then proceed to regurgitate softened spaghetti and salad for that night's meal. It's all about perspective.

Drama at the Carcass

Few birds out there can rival carrion eaters when it comes to size and belligerence. So when you come across a dessicated wildebeest carcass, you're bound to find some heavyweight inter-species squabbling.

The bird on the right is the largest Old World vulture, the lappet faced (or nubian) vulture, with an almost nine-foot wingspan. The bird on the left, who has just arrived at the party, is the equally large marabou stork. He doesn't seem to be too impressed by the vulture's posturing and protests.

Meanwhile, the small band of griffons that has shown up to dine seem happy enough to have the big guys distracted while they go in for some delicious fetidness.

So much drama in the Serengeti.

Photo courtesy Barbara Lawrence

Possible Condor Reintroduction

The California Condor might be coming home to roost for the first time in the northern reaches of its native territory, which was once as far north as British Columbia. The Yurok tribe is seeking to reintroduce them, and I can't help but offer my sincere wishes that the condor is able to propagate itself in the northern wilds once more.

Photo source: AP Photo/Rick Bowmer via Yahoo! News




















Here's some historical perspective on the California Condor: the first written record we have of one is from 1602 when they were spotted feasting on a whale carcass in Monterey Bay. Then, in 1805 the Lewis and Clark expedition caught one that had been feeding on a whale carcass. In 2006, five condors were found in Big Sur feasting on...can you guess it?...a whale carcass.

The average whale carcass can feed a population of condors for months, and as I've read elsewhere, dead whales were a primary food source for condors back in the day. But we're so diligent in keeping our coastline clear of dead whales, that the condors aren't able to feed like they used to.

I don't really know how to fix that situation. Maybe one of you ecologists or biologists or someone more familiar with condors or the disposal of dead whales can weigh in.

Snake Killers Or Snake Oil?

Guinea fowl have a variety of uses around the farm. For instance, these African birds have long been touted as snake hunters. But then, others dispute this claim. The two arguments seem to line up based upon who's trying to sell what. Talk to a guinea fowl seller, and these birds are great insect and tick eaters, along with snakes. But others, in the pest control field for instance, say that guinea fowls aren't much good at snake killing.

I have some friends (really, I do) that own some guinea fowl and swear by their snake killing talents. Can anyone else corroborate this?

Photo source: goincarcrazy

Vulture Chicks

The American black vulture (Coragyps atratus) is pretty widespread across the New World, though their territory doesn't reach the same northern and southern extremes of its cousin, the turkey vulture. Unlike many other vulture species, these birds usually lay their eggs on the ground (which is probably why you see these two-week-old chicks huddled on the ground). They don't even bother much with making a nest, though sometimes they'll decorate the egg spot with colorful bits of plastic or glass or bottle caps.

I wonder what they used for decor before I started throwing my garbage out my car window...

Thanks for the photo, Clair.

Degrees of Pink

The Andean Condor has many claims to fame, including being the largest bird in the Western Hemisphere, and being one of the longest-living birds on the planet, with a lifespan of around 50 years.

The bird below is a male, who resides at the Philadelphia Zoo. You can tell it's a male by its large fleshy comb (maybe that comb helps it steer mid-flight, like Rocketman). These birds have bare heads (the vulture trade mark), with flesh that is a dull red. But, depending its mood, the flesh can become flushed. I have an uncle with a similar trait: the degree to which his face is pink is directly proportional to the degree to which he is drunk. Remember, kids, friends don't let friends feed on carrion drunk. They don't know when to stop.

Photo by Art G.

Lightning-fast Wood Stork Beaks

Mo Hassan took this photo of a wood stork, the only stork currently breeding in North America (in Florida, where the breeding is timed to the dry season so as to partake of the fish caught in shrinking pools). This particular stork was lurking outside Mo's hotel in Orlando.

The wood stork has a rare and effective fishing technique; it lowers its beak into the water and lies in wait, waiting (obviously) for the touch of a soon-to-be-erstwhile fish--preferably a minnow. Then, in as little as 25 milliseconds, it snaps its beak shut. This reaction time is almost unrivaled in the vertebrate world. Not even my near instantaneous and unmanly shriek at the feel of a spider skittering across my bare foot is as fast.

It's Good to be King Vulture

The King Vulture (Sarcoramphus papa) is a large New World vulture, whose habitat includes lowland forests from southern Mexico to northern Argentina. They are often the first on the scene of a fresh carcass, and so are the ones to make that initial cut into the deceased's hide. The early bird gets the intestines.

They are one of the most commonly featured birds in the Mayan codices, distinguishable by the caruncle on the beak (that orange knob) and by the concentric rings that were drawn around the eyes. I can't find any mention, however, as to whether the neck was depicted as a Big Stick popsicle, or if the caruncle was depicted as a rotting orange peel. Regardless, they were thought by ancient Mayans to be the messengers between the humans and the gods.

So, next time you see one at a zoo, see if it'll pass a message along for you. Maybe to Acat if you want a particularly killer tattoo, or to find out if the world-girlding serpent god Hapikern is of any relation to Corpse Tearer.

Photo by Mike Raiford

I Don't Want to Grow Up

Why is this adorable tribble tawny frogmouth chick squeezing its eyes shut? Because it knows it's about as cute as can be, but it just got a glimpse of what it will look like as an adult. This the avian equivalent of the I-don't-want-to-grow-up look.

Photo source SFGate.com

















Now we know why this adult frogmouth looks so forlorn. It can only look back upon its early life like some classmates you may know who peaked in their youth, and adulthood for them has been nothing but a steady, inexorable coast downhill. As Audrey put it, it's the ugly duckling story in reverse.

Photo source Susinder
But need this be such a sad thing? Sure, I was a lot cuter when I was young, but did I have mediocre blogging skills back then? Of course not - the Internet didn't even exist! Life is better now, what with the being potty trained, being literate, and having a mortgage and stuff.

It'll be all right, Mr. Frogmouth. At least you'll no longer be fed regurgitated bug-gruel. No, you can pluck insects from the air mid-flight now and enjoy their crunchiness without that sour aftertaste of your mother's digestive juices.

Thanks, Audrey.

Vulture Chick

Here are a few shots of a lappet-faced vulture chick taken from its nest in Etosha, Namibia, for the purposes of taking a blood sample and tagging.

Though the lappet-faced vulture is the largest of the Old World vultures, and is known for its aggression and belligerence, the chicks were remarkably docile. So much so that they didn't fight being extracted from their nest (last photo) and didn't even balk at having their blood drawn (middle photo). In fact, they just laid down through the whole ordeal (first photo), and didn't make any attempts to escape, despite not being restrained.

I've had two children who were particularly docile and easy-going in their infancy. Both have since become the two scrappiest spitfires of the brood. Maybe a child or vulture whisperer could weigh in on the psychology of that.

Photos by Carrie Cizauskas

Sibling Abuse

ZooBorns comes through for us again. Behold a silvery-cheeked hornbill chick. This particular bairn can be found at The Central Florida Zoo. It's being raised by the keepers since its older sibling was picking on it.

I had a similar experience with my twin daughters. For the first few months of their lives they shared a crib. But as they became more able and willing to flail their arms, they became a danger to one another, and we had to separate them into their own cribs. It seems that sibling abuse is no respecter of species.

Thanks, Jonathan.

Of Scabrous Heads and Garbage

Photo by Dr. Fitz
The more storks I get to know, the more I begin to wonder exactly which stork it's supposed to be that delivers our babies? Certainly not the marabou or wood stork. And certainly not the Greater Adjutant Stork.

These massive birds (over an eight-foot wingspan) are natives of southeast Asia. They're endangered (with about 1,000 individuals estimated left in the wild, they'd be hard pressed to deliver all those babies), but they're adaptable. Like most storks, they eat frogs and fish, etc. But this one will also eat carrion, for which its scabrous head is an adaptation. They have also learned to scratch a living out of human garbage dumps.

Much like the Grinch of Whoville fame, this peruser of garbage knows far too much of the underbelly of humanity. I'd hate to hear his opinion of us.