Birds' faces are frozen for a lifetime. They cannot grimace or smile or furrow their brows. Yet, a bird can exhibit a certain expression that may or may not appear appropriate to a situation or its personality or demeanor. This can cause us to misinterpret its feelings or intentions.
Can a bird, such as the Mad Bluebird, make an angry face? This photo of mine shows a White-eyed Vireo with an "attitude," and was chosen by the National Audubon Society and the Sierra Club to promote their Climate Change information campaign.
The "Vehement Vireo"
This likely is a different bird, photographed a few months earlier within 1/2 mile of the above. What is "Vehement Vireo II" trying to say?
Can a bird have a "curious" look? Another of my photos was recently featured in an Audubon bird ID quiz. It shows a female Chestnut-sided Warbler looking quizzically at the camera. She did approach me quite closely, but did her facial expression change? Anthropomorphism at its worst?
Are these two catbirds engaged in an angry confrontation? (Actually, I am quite sure that this was a courtship interaction.)
Many raptors exhibit an eternally fierce countenance. Is this female Bald Eagle mad at the world?
Here she is tenderly feeding her young, not killing them.
Up close, this Red-tailed Hawk has fire in its eye. As it is with eagles, the pronounced bony supra-orbital ridge shades its eye, but also causes a permanent frown.
Instead of a pronounced bony brow, a dark area under his eyes reduces glare for this American Kestrel. He looks quite gentle, incapable of any evil intent to harm a little grasshopper or mouse.
A female House Finch is said to have a "blank" or "innocent" appearance, as her face is unadorned.
Contrast this with the "expressive" face of a female Purple Finch.
Of course, owls are said to look "wise," but this Long-eared Owl seems rather surprised to see me.
These young Great Horned Owls are hardly old enough to be "wise," but they already have that look.
Beyond wise, this Burrowing Owl appears to be omniscient.
The Horned Lark looks like a police inspector who means business.
This Yellow-crowned Night-Heron reminds me of a grumpy old man with bushy eyebrows and bearded jowls.
What about looking "fearful?" I know it is not possible, but to me this Whooping Crane expresses sheer terror.
The American Birding Association (ABA) used my Purple Swamphen photo to announce that this introduced species is now "countable" under their rules. It looks like a "Purple Gallinule on steroids," and has an aggressive style that matches its robust appearance.
Still not "countable," under the ABA rules of the game, the exotic and aggressive Egyptian Geese have spread rapidly up the Florida peninsula during the past five years. (See this video of an intense battle between Egyptian Geese, filmed by StuartDutchmanHQ of the Netherlands.) We just had the first pair on our lake, and the male viciously fought off a competitor, no holds barred! Like a masked gangster, the male (foreground) celebrates victory with his "gun moll."
The Horned Lark is one of the breeding birds that I will miss most since their local habitat was destroyed in our NE Illinois neighborhood. They nested only steps away from our front door, and often posed on top of utility marking stakes. Of the dozens of lark species worldwide, this is the only one that is an established resident of the USA. Skylarks were introduced into British Columbia, Canada, where they successfully reproduced, and they also wander from Asia into Alaska.
Horned Larks are called Shore Larks in Europe. This one struck an arrogant pose.
I would either sit on the front steps or park the car along the curb on one of the streets in the undeveloped grassland, focus my camera on one of the stakes and simply wait for a bird to fly in and perch. Early in the spring, the visitor would commonly be a Horned Lark.
Males hover in courtship flights over the females, often hidden in the grass. They do not receive critical acclaim as songsters, as do the Skylarks, but I loved to hear their high-pitched music in the morning, beginning before sunrise. They also have a distinctive, if subdued flight song. Listen at this link
The coloration of females is less pronounced, and they lack the characteristic feather head tufts of the males, the hallmark of their species.
The "horns" are not always raised, as is the case in this adult male. This and the amount of yellow on the face, throat and upper chest varies geographically, being generally brighter and more extensive in the northeastern USA than here in the plains of Illinois. Northern birds are larger and darker.
Their brown backs make them almost invisible in the grasses. Larks may resemble sparrows, but unlike sparrows, all larks walk rather than hop. This male shows almost no yellow color.
As our most recent visit to NE Illinois draws to a close, the visions of Snow Buntings, Northern Shrikes and Snowy Owls that danced in my head are beginning to fade. While time afield has been limited by the weather and our duties, we have had a few opportunities to drive out to vast areas of corn fields a few miles west of Batavia, where we have been staying in our daughter's home. She and her husband made progress in their recovery from recent injuries. Thankfully, she is now able to drive their two daughters to school. Since this was the most critical task we had to perform for them, there is now less need for our continued presence.
When we arrived in early February there were a few clear days before the snow and cold set in. We did not find our target birds, but this old barn was an attractive subject.
We visited the banks of the Fox River and found flocks of Common Goldeneyes.
The males were performing courtship displays, fluffing their head feathers and pointing their bills straight up to the sky. The females acted as if they were not impressed by this amazing feat.
Several Bald Eagles flew over, including this immature bird.
The ducks took flight at the sight of the eagle...
...but soon settled back down on the river.
Several Common Mergansers were also present.
Most of our "birding" was at the feeders in our daughter's back yard. Before the snows came I could get good shots of Northern Cardinals and Black-capped Chickadees from their rear deck.
Then came the snow. Agramonte, their 100+ pound Tibetan Mastiff really enjoyed falling asleep under a blanket of the white stuff.
The snow has been deep enough to block access to the feeder on the other side of the fence. Now the little plastic barn feeder that hangs just off the deck is the only one in operation. This does bring the birds closer, but they must be photographed through double-paned glass windows. Therefore my images are mostly soft and blurry. What else is a birder to do when house-bound?
The local throngs of House Sparrows were joined by Dark-eyed Juncos...
...the Northern Cardinal...
...more chickadees...
...and a flock of American Tree Sparrows.
Dried cherries clung to two trees in the back yard, attracting juncos...
...American Goldfinches...
...and American Robins.
When the roads were cleared we ventured out to the cornfields.
Mary Lou usually accompanied me, as I can depend upon her sharp eyes to spot little flocks in the snowy fields, if they are present. So far we have found only Horned Larks and a single Lapland Longspur. I have had to settle for distant views and soft images of both species.
Early one afternoon I drove out alone and Mary Lou missed the best sighting. I spent about an hour scoping out the cornfields in Sugar Grove, west of Batavia, again looking for Snow Buntings. None were to be found, but I saw this Coyote.
Two Northern Harriers swooped over it, one a subadult male and the other presumably an immature female.
The harriers exchanged places on a fence post and watched the Coyote as it passed by along the hedgerow.
The Coyote moved directly to the north, and when about 0.7 miles away (per Google Earth) it turned to the left and started chasing two deer along a farm road. The Coyote ran after them in two sprints, then stopped. The deer looked back at the Coyote on the road.
The Coyote gave up the chase and simply turned around and walked away.
The two deer were joined by another that came out of the high grasses along the track. They watched the Coyote for a few minutes and then walked back along the same path and disappeared behind the hedgerow.
I just know that as soon as I get back to Florida I will start reading about all the Snow Buntings that are flocking in these corn fields! And shrikes? Snowy Owls?