UC Blogs
Central Valley Postharvest Newsletter (CVPN)
Post by: Carlos H. Crisosto Director of UC Fruit & Nut Research & Information Center Department of Plant Sciences University of...
What I Did in My Garden Today
Goodbye tomatoes.
Time to go.
You've given much, but
Time to go.
Give way to winter.
Time to go.
Now be compost.
Time to go.
Thank you, sungold.
Time to go.
Come back soon, but
Time to go.
Gone...
Lurking in the Orchid Cactus
It's Veterans' Day, but to jumping spiders, it's just another day--another day to ambush unsuspecting prey. We spotted this jumping spider on an...
A jumping spider on an orchid cactus, Epiphyllum. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
A Gathering of Entomologists
The Lone Star State will be far from "lone" or "alone" Nov. 10-13. Some 3000 researchers, professors, graduate and undergraduate students,...
This was a scene from ESA's 2008 annual meeting, held in Reno. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
Signs of the times--at 2008 ESA meeting. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
A Mockingbird Can Change Your Tune
Until last year, the noisy Northern Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos) irritated me. Flitting from limb to fence to rooftop, this shrill impersonator of other birds’ song and sounds was not welcomed in my garden. But that was before a family of 10 moved into the neighborhood right across the street from my house and brought with them four felines that roam free 24-7. Needless to say, these cats prowl my front, side and backyard for birds. Within days, the seed feeders I had tacked atop fence posts and the bird baths I'd placed in the flowerbeds sat empty. No Towhees, Gold Finches or Robins. No Quail or Doves. Not even a Blue Jay or House Sparrow.
Now when I sat at my kitchen table sipping my morning coffee, I look out the window at cats slinking along the header of the wooden fence. Instead of enjoying the daily ritual of birds scratching the soil and sifting through leaves for insects, I see cats hiding behind bushes hunting for a feathered meal. Four uninvited cats licking their chops and leaving behind their business. Needless to say I'm one unhappy gardener. Yet what bothers me most is that I miss the twitter and squawk, the chatter and the chirp of bird song.
Until yesterday, I thought my days of listening to cheeps, coos and trills are history. Then out of the blue, a “many-tongued mimic” flitted into my backyard. Guess what? I was so excited to see a Mockingbird that I vowed never again to grouse about its mating call, even it woke me up at 2 a.m. This weekend I plan to rummage through the garage for paint to construct a small garden sign that reads:
ALL feathered friends welcomed here — even Mockers, Mimics and Misfits
Here are a couple of tidbits you might find interesting about the Mockingbird.
• The Latin name (Mimus polyglottos) really does mean “many-tongued mimic.” Recognized calls of the Mockingbird are: Hew call used to warn of nest predators and interaction between mates. Chat (used year-round when disturbed) or chat burst (specific to fall and used in territorial defense). Nest relief call and the begging call (used only by males).
• An omnivore that forages through vegetation and on the ground. Both male and female look alike, nest build, and are socially monogamous.
• The State bird of five states, known for its ability to recognize previous threats and intruders (including humans) and to return to prior breeding grounds. Today more Northern Mockingbirds live in urban habitats than rural areas and are considered a positive species.
For me, the very presence of this fascinating intelligent bird triggers an age-old in-depth conversation. Personally, I am at a loss for words, a good thing lest I write something naughty about the neighbors. Certainly, the Mockingbird’s reappearance in my yard is helping me change my tune about this amazing bird. But I can’t say the same about the cats. As a former “responsible” cat lover-owner who appreciates pets, I must be honest about these neighborhood free roamers. Seems to me that gardeners have little voice on the block to truly convey the environmental, emotional and spiritual impact of losing the sweet simple melody of their garden.
Yet maybe, in time, with enough cats as mentors, Mockingbirds will learn to meow. Now that’s a thought to ponder. I mean, can you imagine a 2 a.m. repertoire of screeching feline frenzy?
Mimus polyglottos (courtesy of Wikipedia.org)