Over the last couple of days, our backyard has been resplendent with critters. Flickers, Turtle Doves (aka Mourning Dove), squirrels (yes, those too), and little tiny birds of unknown pedigree hopping amongst the crowd.
This adorable little Turtle Dove practically posed for me as I photographed him/her the other morning . The young ones are called “juvies” when they’re young. The adults produce broods late in the Summer.
Pure innocence in those sweet eyes. He would allow me to get surprisingly close before hopping off to a safe distance. Then back to some serious pecking business.
Keeping an ever watchful eye on me.
Unlike this robin who is full of challenge and confidence in his undeniable cuteness. He doesn’t seem to think I’ll mind if he helps himself to one of the peaches that the squirrels have discarded.
Can’t remember the last time those thieving rodents allowed a peach to ripen enough to be enjoyed by a human. But it’s nice to see some sharing going on.
Our young Turtle Dove hasn’t yet mastered the flight thing too well, so when he gets startled, he flaps all crazy-like to get to a short fence. He’s got that right foot out and he’s truckin’.
A Kodak moment amongst all the peaches that are destined to land on the ground.
Turtle Dove juvies are referred to as Squabs. Not a term I care for, as it gives rise to visions of ornate table settings, linen napkins, and snooty waiters.
In contrast to the youngsters’ cuteness quotient, the adult Turtle Doves are downright regal and proud in appearance. I’ve always been moved by these guys. The way the wings join their body, giving the appearance of padded shoulders. They look like little soldiers. The un-mated males sometimes make a mournful sound in the evenings that tugs at the heartstrings.
These birds are monogamous - something I like to see in animals. To feed the youngsters, they produce something called “crop milk” which collects in a little pouch in the back of the gullet. They mix that with other morsels they’ve gathered to produce a sort of soft, bland cereal. When they fly, their wings make a “chirping” or “whistling” sound, giving the impression they’re grunting with the effort. Quite the contrary, they can fly fast and bullet straight at speeds up to 55 mph.
This dude is a European Starling who is molting. Hence the disheveled appearance.
And this speckled little sweetie has pretty much grown in his new feathers.
The rest of these photos are from a spontaneous critter party that I inadvertently crashed early yesterday morning. My long lens made it possible to catch more of the revelry.
There are a couple of Red Shafted Flickers at the center of this soiree, feeding quite companionably alongside little teensy birds. There are two flickers in the first two photos, but the one lurking in the background isn’t too evident.
Squirrel photo-bombs.
Varmint vanity.
Rocketing rodent.
Caught in mid-hop.
And let us not forget the wee peeps.
Ain’t nature grand?
RAM
Your photos are wondrous!
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