Burrowing Owl Release, Santa Fe, NM

Fledgling biologist, Malcolm Kellermueller, releasing Burrowing Owls that were mitigated and relocated from a construction site in Santa Fe, New Mexico by Hawks Aloft, Inc. The owls were safely excavated from prairie dog burrows, and relocated to an adjacent lot that had an active prairie dog colony with vacant burrows for them to utilize.

Death of a Songbird

Western Meadowlark. Photo by David Powell

I caused the death of a songbird. Certainly more than one bird, and possibly a hundred or more, died because of me. I didn’t mean to do it. In fact, I was oblivious to their silent suffering and desperate demise. It was the winter fruits and vegetables that did it, those seemingly healthy foods that the doctor recommends. They make up a large part of my diet throughout the year. I have a particular fondness for grapes, bananas, asparagus, peppers, and that standard American staple, coffee.

One of the indicators of the changing season is the annual return of bird song. Many of us look forward to the return of our feathered friends from their wintering grounds. We take for granted that their song will fill the spring air with cheerful sounds. But, each year, as we continue to demand out-of-season fruits and vegetables, fewer and fewer songbirds return. Just as the Bald Eagle, Peregrine Falcon, and Osprey were the proverbial canaries in the coal mine that warned us of the dangers of DDT, and changed pesticide use in the United States, today’s songbird populations are an important environmental indicator.

Land management plans in North America now include provisions designed to protect migratory songbirds, including virtually all federal, and most state plans. Many land managers have changed the way they manage to allow for the needs of songbirds and other wildlife, and support research to develop methods to maintain healthy populations. Ambitious projects are underway to permanently protect large swaths of acreage for birds, particularly grassland and boreal forest species. Because of their role as environmental indicator species, avian conservation measures have become part of global efforts to protect biodiversity, not just for birds, but for all life.

Many of our summer residents winter in Central and South America, where highly toxic pesticide use has caused steep declines in bird populations. Pesticide use has increased 500% since the 1980s in Central America as these countries have increased their production of crops to fuel our demand for fresh produce during the winter. The chemicals include monocrotophos, methamidophos, and carbofuran, all of which are rated Class I toxins by the World Health Organization, are highly toxic to birds, and are either restricted or banned in the United States.

In some cases, the poisonings are indirect such as the 1995 deaths of 20,000 Swainson’s Hawks on the pampas of Argentina. Farmers had sprayed monocrotophos, an organophospate on their fields to control grasshoppers, the primary food item of wintering Swainson’s Hawks. Thanks to the efforts of the American Bird Conservancy and other organizations, Novartis (formerly Ciba-Geigy), a major manufacturer of this pesticide, has agreed to phase out production and sale of monocrotophos. Additionally, a major effort has taken place to educate farmers about the benefits of these insect eating hawks and other birds that help keep insect populations under control.

In other instances, birds like the Bobolink, meadowlarks, and other grain eating birds are viewed as pests as they feed on the crops intended for humans. They are directly poisoned to minimize crop damage. The Bobolink, in particular, has suffered a 50% decline in the last 40 years, according to the Breeding Bird Survey.

Americans, however, shouldn’t feel too smug about our environmental record when it comes to pesticides. On a global scale, over 5 billion pounds of pesticides are used annually for agriculture, forest and rangeland management, disease control, and on private properties. In the United States alone, we use 1.2 billion pounds each year. Many of the most toxic chemicals, including DDT, have been banned in our country. However, the U.S. continues to export DDT as well as other pesticides known to be hazardous to the environment and to human health. Conservative estimates place the of the number of birds killed in the U.S. each year due to pesticide ingestion at 67 million. This represents 10% of the 672 million birds annually exposed to pesticides in our country alone.

South of our border, human pesticide exposures continue despite workers’ improved awareness of the dangers. Most Central American countries have few regulations for effective controls for pesticide use, and in 1998, (most current figure available) almost 6,000 human poisonings were reported in Central America. Ironically, while we have increased our reliance on winter produce, Mexico, a major importer of that produce, has increased its dependence on pesticides. It is currently the second largest pesticide importer in Latin America.

We have effectively created a circle of poison in which pesticides outlawed in the U.S. because of documented toxicity are exported to Third World Countries that use them to grow the crops that are, in turn, sold to the American consumer. Testing by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration shows that produce imported from Latin American countries is three times as likely to violate Environmental Protection Agendy standards for pesticide residues., Some, but not all pesticide residues can be removed by washing or peeling produce, but tests by the Center for Disease Control show that most Americans carry traces of pesticides in our blood. We, however, show few if any signs of that oxicity. It just may be that our beloved songbirds might be the first indicator of threats to our health.

As American consumers, our most effective tool is our wallet. Next time you shop, buy locally grown foods wherever possible. Not only will you reduce your pesticide exposure, you will be purchasing food with a smaller carbon footprint.

Purchase organic, shade-grown coffer. Most mass produced coffee is heavily treated with fertilizers, herbicides, fungicides and insecticides. Shade grown coffee is grown beneath a canopy of tropical trees, which provide shade, essential nitrogen, and leaf litter for fertilizer.

Organic bananas should on your list. Although our pesticide exposure from bananas is minimal because we peel the fruit, bananas are grown with one of the highest pesticide loads of any tropical crop.

Purchase produce such as melons, green beans, tomatoes, bell peppers, and strawberries only if they are not grown in Central America.

The birds, and your great grandchildren will thank you for it.

The Bird that Walks on Water - Clark's and Western Grebe

Clark's Grebe. Photo by David Powell

Perhaps running on water might be a more appropriate term for part of the captivating courtship ritual of these two closely related, fascinating species. Not considered ducks, geese, or even waterfowl, these less commonly observed birds are considered just “waterbirds”, a somewhat ignominious term given their spectacular breeding season displays considered to be among the most complex known in birds. Those of you lucky enough to have witnessed the event will likely always remember it. Certainly, it is frequently shown on television nature shows. After a series of calls and posturing, the pair rises up on their feet, and with wings beating furiously, literally run across the surface of the water. A second ritual, “the weed ceremony” cements the pair bond. Beginning like the prior example, a weed dancing couple simultaneously dive to the lake bottom to gather a mouthful of vegetation, rise to the surface, and then rise on the their feet while holding the vegetation bill-to-bill.

Clark’s and Western Grebes are remarkably similar in appearance, with only subtle differences in facial pattern, bill color, and calls to differentiate the birds to our human eye. In fact, the two are so similar that from 1886 to 1985 they were considered to be one species. Highly social, they can be found on our larger lakes, particularly those with the marshy vegetation necessary for nesting during the spring. During winter, on open water, they may be found in large rafts of both species, where they hunt mainly for small fish and other aquatic animals, which are usually swallowed underwater, a seemingly impossible, if not illogical feat. Furthermore, each individual can consume up to a pound of fish a day, so large groups are capable of quickly depleting the food resources in a small pond or lake.

Superbly designed to efficiently ‘fly’ underwater, grebes have short wings and feet and legs that are positioned near the rear of their bodies, making them ungainly on land. In fact, most grebes rarely set foot on terra firma, except during the nesting process. Grebes almost never fly except during migration which occurs at night. Additionally, grebes, replace most of their feathers all at one time, rendering them flightless for much of their nesting period. This effectively restricts their range to the pond or lake that they selected for their nest site, and subjects the pair and their young to the perils of uncertain weather, water levels, and adequate food supplies.

Nestling grebes are able to swim and dive within 24 hours of birth, but are not terribly water-proof. Like loons, a closely related species, young grebes spend most of their early weeks riding on the backs of their parents. At this time of year, young grebes are independent of their parents and might be found in close company with others of their kind. Check out the lakes of New Mexico for a look are these rare and interesting birds! If you’re lucky you might even see the dance!

Li'l Red Devils

Rufous Hummingbird
Photo by David Powell

They’re Baaaack! All summer long, up until now that is, the two species of hummingbirds that nest in the Jemez Mountains have maintained a certain decorum in their daily activities with only occasional territorial squabbles. All that changes in the blink of a night, when the brash newcomer with the extremist lifestyle arrived on the scene in early July, confidently aggressive in his bright orange-red body, much like Lightning McQueen in the recent movie “Cars”. The “Ka-chow” of Lightning when he flashes his stickers is replaced by the time bomb-like “tick-tick-tick-tick” of the male rufous hummingbird as he twitches his head from side to side alertly watching and waiting. Suddenly, no feeder is safe from the stealth attack of Attila, the Hum, as he stakes out his favored feeder, and jealously guards it from unwary intruders.

The tiny rufous hummingbird breeds farther north than any other species of hummingbird, into southern Alaska and far from the equatorial tropics in which its ancestors evolved. If measured by its diminutive body length, the species has the longest known avian migration. Although the Alaskan breeding season is short, it has the longest day-length seen by any hummingbird. In fact the day length exceeds the needs of this bird, which requires 5-6 hours of rest each night.

Males breed with as many females as possible, and their only contribution to the reproductive success is sperm. Their elaborate courtship flight is described as a complete oval, which they pursue repeatedly in the presence of any female. I found one intriguing description of an individual attempting to impress a female with his prowess and superior physical attributes. After climbing to a great height above the female perched near ground level, the male reversed heading after entering a dive and then leveled out after passing the female. He uttered a series of short dit-dit-dit-deer calls increasing in pitch, followed by a few dull “plops” from using his tail feathers as a dive-brake. Very impressive, I’m sure. Another tactic is called whisking, in which the male flies rapidly back and forth at a consistent level in front of the female, much like a whisk broom. Perhaps this tactic wears down female resistance by its endless repetitions. When I consulted the references for actual mating activity, I found only a brief paragraph which stated, “After the dive display, a female joined the male in a swinging flight, which he thought included actual mating, but he was totally unable to see the birds except as a blurred streak of color. Further study needed.”

The nest is constructed by the female alone, who also incubates the eggs, and provides all sustenance for her young. Nesting in the far north, it’s a life on the edge for one of the smallest birds in the Western Hemisphere. Because the males finish their reproductive role early in the season, they are the first to arrive and that’s when chaos ensues in southern lattitudes. Males maintain territoriality at re-fueling stopover sites for 1-2 weeks at a time during migration. The more dense the flowers, or feeders, are the smaller the territory of individual males. One of the ways to reduce aggression at your feeder is to hang several feeders on opposite sides of the house out of the line of sight of an individual bird. However, often several territorial males set up a defense network around all of the feeders. Another trick is to make syrup with a mixture of one part sugar to three parts water for one feeder. The sweeter syrup may attract the rufous away from the other feeders. However, as part of the bigger picture of hummingbird conservation, the practice of hummingbird feeders is thought to have had a positive effect on hummingbird populations overall.

When the first Attila on the scene has enough fat reserves, he will move on, only to be replaced by a later arriving male, and then the females and juveniles. Soon, they also will be joined by the Calliope and Broad-tailed Hummingbirds that nest farther north as well. Experts recommend leaving your hummingbird feeders in place until about two weeks after the last hummingbird observation, or until about October 30 in this area. That last remaining feeder may mean the difference between life and death for America’s smallest bird, the last one to depart from his Alaskan summertime residence.

All About Baby

American Robin
Photo by David Powell

You might have heard the old myth, the one that says you can’t put a baby bird back in its nest because the mother will smell the human scent and reject it. Today, avian savvy folks know that this just isn’t true, as evidenced by solid data. We also know that branching is a normal stage for baby birds of all species. This is the time when they have left the nest, but are not yet able to fly.

At this time, the parents are still caring for their young, although many young birds run into problems at this time of their life cycle due to cats, dogs, vehicles, and human intervention.
Yes, it’s true. This is the time when well-meaning humans notice those unflighted youngsters, think they have been abandoned, and KIDNAP them. They gather up the avian equivalent of a toddler, put it in a box and begin calling rescue groups looking for help for their “orphan”. We, along with wildlife rehabilitation groups nationwide, receive loads of call each spring and summer from frantic humans looking for other humans to take care of baby.

Flash back to Memorial Day 2008. It had been a gloriously long, full day of hiking in the Ojito Wilderness Area with friends, but I was tired that evening. While I reclined on my sofa, watching the news, I heard frantic shouting in my Rio Rancho back yard. Puzzled, I arose to investigate the cause of all the commotion. A male voice shouted,

“Gail! Gail! GAIL!”

Neighbor John leaned over the fence looking very relieved. Seems he had found a baby robin running around in his back yard, and felt the need to rescue it. Shortly, he produced a small cardboard, holding a small, very confused fledgling robin. We talked about nature, and how it was best to leave them be, but John wasn’t having any of that! Proudly, he handed over the box.

I waited until he went indoors, and promptly opened the box to set the little one on the ground near some dense shrubbery. My logic was that since our yards were adjacent, surely Mama Robin would hear her baby only 20 feet further away in the next yard. But, the baby didn’t cheep, or beg, or do anything except stare at me. I hid behind the door, peeking out every once in a while. After 30 minutes or so, baby was no longer visible. A few minutes after that, a plaintive cheep, cheep, cheep arose from the shrubs.

It was about then that I began to doubt all the literature, as well as my hands-on experience, and the worry set in. It was windy that evening, terribly windy. What if Mom could not hear her little one calling? After all, I hadn’t seen a robin in my yard in days, nor had I heard one. What if I had made a terrible mistake? The cheeping went on; the wind kept blowing, and I knew that I had done the WRONG thing.

Just before dark, I heard an adult robin call. But the irrational worry didn’t end there. In fact, it continued for three days, even though I was now noticing robins foraging in my yard every day. But, there was still no sign of baby. Maybe one of the neighborhood cats got him.
Finally, three days later, when I looked out my back window, there he was, and quite proud of himself too. With a stubby little tail, and half-grown wings, he had climbed up to the lofty height of about 2 feet in a sand sage. He preened; he stretched; he exuded confidence as only the very young can. Mama Robin returned and stuffed a giant worm down his throat.

All was well. There was nothing to worry about! Really! I knew that it would work out just as I intended. Whew! I hope that particular issue doesn’t happen again anytime soon.

Speaking of orphans: Hawks Aloft has already placed one Cooper’s Hawk fledgling back into its nest at an apartment complex in Albuquerque. Its kidnappers had driven it all the way to the Wildlife Center in Espanola, where it spent four days in captivity while we coordinated its return to its natural parents. Coordination meant working together to get baby back to Albuquerque, as well as assistance from our friends at PNM who donated the use their bucket truck and crew. Fortunately, there were two other siblings in the nest so the parents were still in attendance. Baby settled in nicely and, when our biologist checked on it an hour later, all three were being fed by Mom. This particular hawk baby just got an early lesson in human avoidance.

If you find a feathered baby bird on the ground, observe it from a distance to see if it is being attended by its parents. If the bird is constantly begging and the parents are not responding, only then should it be caught and taken to a wildlife rehabilitation organization. If, however, you find a naked baby bird on the ground, try to return it to its nest. If that isn’t possible, line a berry basket or shallow plastic container with some ventilation holes punched in the bottom with paper towels or tissue to simulate a nest and securely fasten that to the tree as high as you can place it. If the nestling is in danger of being harmed by pet animals, then capture it and call a wildlife rehabilitator.

The two largest rehabilitation groups in New Mexico are the Wildlife Center, Espanola, at 575-753-9505, and Wildlife Rescue, Albuquerque 344-2500.

Little Yellow Fellows

American Goldfinch
Photo by David Powell

In the world of birds there are no books; the language is unfamiliar to two-legged mammals, and self powered flight is almost a given. Of course, exceptions occur to most of the above phrases; birds don’t print or read books; some birds do mimic human speech and some humans can correctly interpret the meaning of bird sounds; and flightless birds, such as the Kiwi, the Weka, and the Emu, traverse the same paths as land-bound mammals. As with many apparent rules that govern our planet, the only hard and fast reality may be to expect the unexpected, and that the chaos theory is alive and well.

The question arrived via e-mail just the other day. In late June or early July, a Jemez resident had noted a bright yellow bird with a black cap, and wondered if it might have been a Wilson’s Warbler, a small songbird that primarily eats insects. Now, the books that determine where birds nest, winter, and migrate state that while Wilson’s Warbler travels through New Mexico during migration, sometimes in staggeringly large numbers in the fall, the breeding range occurs father north. Additionally, there are almost no recorded sightings of this species during the breeding season (June), another indication that the species nests elsewhere. However, New Mexico is a large state, and the Jemez region is definitely under-birded by the ornithological community. And, birds don’t read the books!

Among scientists, there is a theory that all bird life evolved in the tropics, lush habitat with few temperature extremes. In this Garden of Eden, food was plentiful and animal forms flourished, increasing their populations and evolving into additional species. Population expansion, in turn, may have taxed food resources, forcing animals to expand into nearby areas in search of sustenance and breeding territories with less competition. Birds, with the power of flight, could travel the greatest distance, easily reaching temperate zones. Here, these pioneer birds found abundant food, nesting habitat, reduced threat of predation and competition for resources. The limiting factor for temperate zone nesters was, and remains, weather extremes and the associated food shortages.

Perhaps the little yellow bird with the black cap was a pioneer, exploring new habitat, and searching for better nesting territory. Another well-documented pioneer set up shop along the Rio Grande in the summer of 2007, singing his heart out for a full six weeks. As of this writing, it remains unknown if the Chestnut-sided Warbler attracted a mate. If he did, and they were successful, then there is a good chance that they would return to the same area the following year, thereby expanding the range for their species. Range expansions for some species are well-documented, such as the White-winged Dove, and the Great-tailed Grackle. And just last year, in July 2006, Jo Wargo, US Forest Service Biologist, and I found a singing American Goldfinch along the Jemez River. With a bright yellow body and perky black cap, it might have been mistaken for a Wilson’s. Also out of range, this bird should have been to the north, in Colorado or beyond during nesting season. That goldfinch was well documented, and has been added to the reports for this species in New Mexico, although a nest was not found. In 2008, another American Goldfinch was observed in the same general area, perhaps representing a range expansion.

Our little yellow goldfinch of summer and cousin to the American Goldfinch, is the less common, and more range restricted Lesser Goldfinch. Like the birds above, its body is bright yellow, but the black on its head trails down the back of the neck (nape) and covers its back. His sweet song brightens summer days when most of the other songsters have finished their last aria. Like its cousin, it is one of the last to begin nesting, often not until the summer monsoon season, when its preferred foods, thistle, sunflower, and other weedy plants, set the seed crop that will easily satisfy the rapidly growing young as well as their parents. Uniquely adapted for seed-eating, their diet is almost entirely vegetarian, unlike most other birds. In fact, it is the goldfinch’s mostly vegetarian diet that makes them a poor host for the nest parasite, Brown-headed Cowbird. Although cowbirds do select goldfinch nests in which to deposit their eggs, the young cowbirds are unable to thrive on the seed only diet lacking in animal protein, and do not survive.

Both goldfinches adapt well to human activities and can be found in weedy fields, as well as in your own back yard. To attract goldfinches to your back yard, consider hanging a thistle, or niger, feeder. In New Mexico, you might just see the bright yellow Lesser Goldfinch during the summer, replaced by its northern cousin the American Goldfinch during the winter. At the higher elevations in mostly coniferous forest, thistle feeders will attract another finch with only a hint of yellow in its wings and tail, the Pine Siskin.

These hardy little birds are survivors in a human dominated world, and in fact, populations have benefited from our activities. The only threat reported in the literature is capture for the pet trade! While this is unthinkable within our country’s borders, our little yellow fellows spend at least a portion of the year in the tropics where there is little protection or understanding of the impact of poaching on wild populations.

The identity of the little yellow bird that was the subject of the question that motivated this article–what it mighta’ been, coulda’ been, but shoulda’ been–is anyone’s guess.

Brave New World

Golden Eagle Chick. Photo by Ron Kellermueller

Perhaps it was a tussle over a food delivery. Or sibling rivalry. Maybe it was an ordinary exercise session gone amok, the furious pre-flight flapping that strengthens flight muscles in preparation for the aerial maneuvers that will come later. We will never know the real cause of the eaglet’s premature descent from her lofty nest. The wise biologist who had been watching the nest all season knew, however, that there should have been two eaglets still inside the safety of the sizeable stick fortress in which they had been born. The biologist began his search, and easily located the large female chick huddled in natal position on the ground, a behavior common to most unfledged nestlings. With only half-grown flight feathers, she was definitely too young to be out, yet putting her back was a physical impossibility. She would not be flighted for another week or so. Her chances for survival? Reasonable, particularly because she was already quite large, and few animals would attempt to prey on a chick of this size, particularly with defensive parents in the immediate vicinity.

Great Horned Owls do not build nests. As the earliest nesting species other than eagles, they merely select their preferred nest, add a nest lining, and set up housekeeping. Unfortunately, they are not known for their ability to select structurally sound nests. Many disintegrate as the young begin to move around. Such was the case of the nest watched by the female biologist, but its demise was particularly early, when the nestlings were only about 2 weeks old, still covered in gray down, and far too early to expect survival of the young. Two diligent searches a week apart failed to reveal any evidence of survival and this nesting attempt was declared failed. One month later, however, a songbird biologist conducting a survey in the same area called to ask if there had been a Great Horned Owl nest because he had seen two fledged owls and their attentive mother. Interestingly, the sighted trio was within 50 feet of the original nest.

The transmission line that runs through Ted Turner’s Armendaris Ranch bears a special name, “Maternity Row”, bestowed by ranch manager, Tom Waddell. Nearly every transmission tower holds at least one nest, and on average, there is an active nest on one of every two towers. Most are ravens, but Swainson’s and Red-tailed Hawks also crowd into the premium high-rise district. Management practices on this expansive ranch, just east of Elephant Butte Reservoir, are intended to foster healthy populations of all wildlife. The Chihuahuan desert ranch positively teams with life in all shapes and sizes, from large ungulates including Oryx, pronghorn, and bison, to endangered turtles, prairie dogs, Burrowing Owls, bats, and cicadas. In fact, I had never before seen so many cicadas in my life. It was a smorgasbord of food, enough for everyone even the sizeable families of quail with golf ball-sized young speeding along on invisible legs.

We were there to look for a particular nest, one that held two very precious nestlings, the first of their kind in New Mexico – Aplomado Falcon – another species that does not build nests, but generally uses existing nests in oversized yuccas. However, when a bird is reared on a wooden structure, perhaps it views that as the most desirable nest location. One tower held a smallish nest, located in the shade of the crossarms above. It was insignificant in size compared to the others, but I got the scope out just in case. As I watched through the lens, one tiny white fuzzy head bobbed above the nest rim, soon joined by another. Precious cargo here, watched and loved by ranch management and biologist alike, a success story just one year following the first release of 11 young, by the Peregrine Fund in August 2006. Chances of survival for these two chicks are mixed. Birds that attempt nesting when they, themselves, are less than one year old, may not be sufficiently skilled hunters to provide for their young. Here, however, watchful human eyes keep a close, but distant eye on the nest, and food limitations are certainly not a problem.

The woman called to tell me that she and her family had discovered a nest with five featherless nestlings on their boat. She wasn’t asking for information, just telling me about her discovery. As politely as possible, I asked how they had handled the situation and suggested that the best thing to do was to either return the nest to an area very near where the boat had been or to transport them to a wildlife rehabilitator. Her response was to say that they had already driven five miles before the discovery and did not want to take the time to put them back. Instead, they had placed the nest on the ground under the shade of a tree (five miles away from the original location). The disastrous phone call continued as the woman went on to tell me that ‘these birds’ need to learn not to build their nests on people’s boats. So ‘these young’, species unknown, had no chance for survival, and indeed the woman reported that by the next morning only the centermost nestling was still alive. I still haven’t figured out why she felt the need to display her ignorance in this way.

Many chicks of all species end up on the ground before they can fly. It is a stage called ‘branching’ and the young are indeed quite vulnerable at this stage even though it is part of their normal life cycle. The parents continue to feed and care for their young, while at the same time, teaching them to find and consume appropriate food. Most baby birds, especially those that have almost all of their feathers do not need to be rescued.

Another myth is that a mother will reject a baby that has been handled by humans because of the human scent. This is not true. If you can find the nest, the best thing to do is to put the youngster back into the nest. If you cannot find the nest, which is probable because birds hide their nests for protection, then you can build a nest to hold the baby bird.

Find a margarine tub, or similar shape and puncture it with drainage holes. Line it with tissue for support and warmth. Nail the container to the tree as close as possible to where the bird was found, making sure that the location will remain shaded and protected as the sun moves. Watch for a parent to find the nestling and continue to care for it. Monitor for at least two hours. If you still have concerns, contact a wildlife rehabilitator. Two different groups are within an hour’s drive of Jemez Springs. The Wildlife Center, (505-753-9505) located in Espanola, takes all kinds of animals including bears, mountain lions, reptiles, bats, and birds. In Albuquerque, Wildlife Rescue (505-344-2500) takes all species of birds, as well as some small mammals. If you have an injured or orphaned raptor, Hawks Aloft (505-828-9455) will assist you in making sure that the bird gets to a rehabilitator.

Of the four vignettes above, three sets of young were not in need of human interference. Only in the case of the last incident, should humans have taken a different course of action.