A blue saga
It’s a Saturday morning and I settle in with a cup of coffee for a quiet read. Suddenly, a celestial fragment falls from the sky, catching my eye. A male Mountain Bluebird has dropped from my roof and landed on a nearby nest box. As always, he commands my full attention. I reach for my binoculars and lose myself in his sublime blue.
I saw my first Mountain Bluebirds decades ago, when reintroducing endangered Peregrine Falcons to the wild in Wyoming. The brilliant males that looked like they’d been dipped in liquid sky captivated me, but I became enamored, too, with the subtly elegant, grayish females. I decided then that I wanted to live where these bluebirds nested so I could fill my eyes with their brilliance every day. It was nearly thirty years before that dream came true.
I have not been disappointed. But while I expected the breath-catching beauty, I hadn’t anticipated the drama—and the unique personalities I’d come to know. As with all Mountain Bluebirds, the first male to nest near my house was ferociously protective of his realm, battling every male that intruded on his territory. Unfortunately, these intruders regularly appeared in the side-view mirrors of any vehicle that came into my driveway. I learned to rush outside any time someone drove into my yard and cover their mirrors with plastic bags. Rambo Bluey or Rambluey, as he soon was dubbed, often beat me to the car. Seeing a rival facing him in one of the mirrors, he’d attack it mercilessly, until I drove him off. Most birds, intelligent as they are, have not evolved to cope with such reflective surfaces. Only a few non-human animals (including Eurasian Magpies, a close relative of our Black-billed Magpie) recognize themselves in mirrors. Rambluey certainly did not, but I accommodated his ferocity—covering or keeping vehicle mirrors at bay—and he successfully raised young for two seasons.
His successor was more challenging. Hearing a bonk bonk bonk while I was working at home one early-spring, I soon discovered that a newly arrived male bluebird was doing battle with one of my windows. I rushed to apply more bird-deterring window decals, then resumed my work. Bonk bonk. Psycho Bluey had found his rival staring at him from between the decals and was trying to knock him out. I covered the window with a sheet. But a short while later: bonk bonk. Now, Psycho Bluey had found eight more rivals, each staring at him from my garage-door windows. I marshalled two more sheets to help eliminate the invading army. After a few weeks and more battles, this ferocious male disappeared—either his rivals had been too much for him or a predator found him.
Fortunately, a new male moved into the neighborhood. And peace reigned. Thus far, this male (and perhaps his successor) has ignored my windows and mirrors. My delight in watching the bluebirds’ activities on our shared patch of Big Sky Country has never wavered. But I am slightly chastened that the males whose ferocity might once have led them to dominate their realm and leave behind the most offspring have faced challenges that likely took a toll on their wellbeing. In a world dominated by humanity, there are inevitable and often under-appreciated costs for the wildlife that share our landscapes. So I help my dazzling defenders however I can, all the while relishing the mountain canvas they embellish with every move of their incandescent blue.
Take a small step to help birds
It is easy to feel helpless in the face of climate change, habitat destruction, and disappearing wildlife. But if each of us does something to help birds, we may be able to reverse their declining numbers.
Here are a few things you can do:
Bluebirds are cavity nesters. Competition for scarce cavities is fierce (we often cut down dead trees and non-native House Sparrows and European Starlings commandeer many nest holes). So we can help bluebirds by installing nest boxes. Check the diameter of the entrance hole. Mountain and Western Bluebirds require larger entrance holes than do Eastern Bluebirds. Don’t place the box too close to buildings or you’re liable to get House Sparrows (an aggressive species that will kill bluebird and Tree Swallow nestlings then take over a cavity).
Nest boxes on posts are less accessible to predators than those on trees. But two years ago, a chipmunk—an adorable but fierce nest predator—climbed up into one of my House Wren boxes and killed the nestlings. To keep future nestlings safe, I wrapped a piece of metal stovepipe (available at the local hardware store) around the nest-box post, wrapped tape around it to keep it tight, then nailed it to the post. My wrens fledged successfully last year despite the chipmunks. I’ve now installed these metal “sleeves” on all my vulnerable boxes.
Consider affixing specially made bird-deterrent decals or tape on your windows. Manufacturers often suggest a high density of decals or tape. But I subscribe to the “anything is better than nothing” philosophy and have found that even one decal makes a window more visible to birds. So use as many as you feel comfortable using.
Check your property, if you have one, for uncapped pipes sticking out of the ground or roofs. Cavity nesters sometimes drop into these pipes when they are searching for a nest site. Since they can’t extend their wings to fly out, they get trapped and die. Whenever you can, cap open pipes so they don’t entrap cavity nesters.
Thank you for reading and thanks for helping birds!
Until next time …
P.S. To read about a variety of unique bird personalities, please check out my new book Feather Trails—A Journey of Discovery Among Endangered Birds, which will be published by Chelsea Green Press on May 2, 2024. It’s available for pre-order on Amazon and will be shipping SOON!
Oh, Soph, I just love this! I have 6 families of Eastern Bluebirds and they are my heart ❤️ Thank you for writing this and I will thank Lis for sharing it! xxoo
Sophie, I am so glad to see Rambluey made famous on the internet!!! I loved hearing about his antics over the years. I recall seeing a roadrunner in south Texas having the same "rearview window" battle, skittering and sliding back and forth across my truck windshield to try to jab at his own image on duel fronts simultaneously, rattling all the while. By the time I returned to the truck and interrupted his single-minded defense, he was nearing exhaustion.
And I am so glad you mentioned capping open pipes to avoid entrapping cavity nesters. I've especially seen this peril in the oil and gas fields and in areas where individual mining claims are marked by posts or pipes at each corner. Thanks for a great read!!!