birds

It’s not the answer most want to hear, but the only alternative is to not feed birds. By choosing to feed, you congregate songbirds in numbers not normally found in the wild — and that, in turn, makes easy pickings for predators.

The most common hawk seen in the Buckeye State at winter feeders is the Cooper’s hawk. Sleek, fast, and deadly, this member of the accipiter grouping of hawks is one of the stealth fighter jets of Ohio’s bird world.

On Thanksgiving Day 2017, an uninvited guest arrived at an Amish farm just a few miles north of Berlin, Ohio — and decided to stay. It was a young snowy owl, and the bird hung around for several weeks, perching atop the peaks of Orris Wengerd’s several barns. It quickly became a celebrity, attracting hundreds of birders and photographers.

Kelleys Island residents welcome the return each spring of their “feathered tourists” — songbirds, waterfowl, and raptors that pass through on their way to Canada.

So it was a rather obvious decision for the island’s innkeepers to band together to create an event around it. “Nest with the Birds” began in the 1980s as a way to drum up some early-season bookings by offering guided hikes and migration-related programs for birdwatchers.

It’s easy to find Joe Bodis’s property in Huron County, a few miles southeast of New London, Ohio. Just look for the house surrounded by “weeds.”

In actuality, those “weeds” are a carefully planned and developed island of wildlife habitat in a sea of corn and soybean fields. “When I first moved in, neighbors used to stop and ask when I was going to mow the weeds,” Bodis says. “Now they ask what things they can do on their property to attract wildlife.”

A retired pharmaceuticals salesman and member of Firelands Electric Cooperative, Bodis moved to his 5 acres in 2002.

Ohio, the Buckeye State, was admitted to the Union in 1803, but even 15 years later it remained a very wild place — too wild, in the opinions of some settlers, and they determined to do something about it, frontier style.

Each winter, Ohio is invaded by mysterious aliens that sail south from Canada on silent wings. But these migratory birds — short-eared and long-eared owls — are no longer feared as the portenders of death that most owls were during centuries past. Rather, a glimpse of the owls is eagerly sought by today’s birders as a special seasonal treat, another check mark to add to their life list.

The pointed protuberances on the heads of these two owl species that give them their names are not really ears, but rather, just feather tufts.

According to an old Pima Indian legend, a flock of very ordinary gray birds became concerned about how unattractive they looked. They began bathing in a sparkling blue mountain lake every morning hoping to make themselves more beautiful. After bathing in the lake for four days, their feathers fell off, and all that remained was gray skin that was even uglier than their plain-looking gray feathers. On the fifth day the feathers grew back in, but this time they were the brilliant blue color of the mountain lake.