I have a pair of barred owls challenging my birding ethics.
Yes, birding ethics are a thing, and have been codified by the American Birding Association to promote respect for birds, people and the law.
Part 1(b) of the code is especially pertinent to my situation: “Avoid stressing birds or exposing them to danger. Be particularly cautious around active nests and nesting colonies, roosts, display sites, and feeding sites.”
The barred owls in my neighborhood are preparing to nest, apparently close to my morning walking route. I see one of the owls almost daily. And it sees me.
Am I stressing it?
If my latest encounter is any indication, the answer is no. I was enjoying the solitude of the woodland path last week, when suddenly there was an unearthly squeal 50 yards to my right. The owl was in hot pursuit of a panic-stricken gray squirrel.
I wouldn’t be surprised if they perform this ritual regularly. The squirrel spiraled up the nearest tree, keeping the owl on the other side of the trunk with relative ease.
The owl sat for a moment on a lower branch, watching for another opportunity that never came. The squirrel merely climbed higher in the tree, and complained in a typical squirrel-like fashion.
Then the owl flew nearer to me and perched where it could look me over.
If you want a bird to think you’re not a threat, don’t look like a threat. I did my mental checklist: no sudden movements, don’t stare, don’t approach. If necessary, move away slowly.
The owl promptly lost interest in me and began to preen. Then it napped. As far as the owl was concerned, I may as well have been a respectful deer.
Granted, this owl may be unusually accustomed to people. The nest site abuts a neighbor’s backyard. This may be the same owl pair that nested in another neighbor’s front yard three years ago.
Barred owls are cavity nesters, and if they find a proper hole in a big enough tree, they may not worry too much about who else is around.
However, they might. The ethical thing for me to do is give them space. Although this owl appears unconcerned now, that may change in a few weeks.
The female is currently well-hidden in the nest hole with eggs. Once the chicks emerge, parents get more nervous about potential threats, especially when they must constantly hunt for food for their growing brood.
With or without owls, everybody can watch how birds react to humans. We often share our homes with eastern phoebes nesting on the porch.
I can tell immediately when the phoebe eggs have hatched. The parents are insanely quiet while on eggs, but then scold the living daylights out of me when the kids pop out.
Robins do it, too.
Song sparrows are notorious backyard nesters. If you’ve got a pair nesting in the yard, you’ll know when their eggs have hatched. They’ll give you a constant tongue lashing until the kids fledge. People watch birds, often forgetting that birds watch people.
Northern cardinals and gray catbirds nest around suburban homes. Properties with thick bushes might host common yellowthroats. It’s worth watching the behaviors of all these birds through nesting season.
House wrens don’t ever seem to care. I suspect Carolina wrens are the same way.
The Maine forest is full of winter wrens, but I’ve never been scolded by one. Marsh wrens nest in cattails. They let me paddle by without a scolding. Few birds are bolder around people than wrens.
Woodpeckers don’t scold me, but they do set boundaries. I often notice that I need to be a certain distance away from the nest hole before they’ll bring food to the nestlings. They’ll sit and watch me until I move off a bit. So I do.
Various species using my bird feeders react differently when I step onto the porch. Jays and doves flee immediately. Finches stick around, unless I approach. Chickadees, nuthatches, titmice and woodpeckers don’t flinch.
It’s not just birds. I watch how all wildlife reacts to people. Gray squirrels run for the nearest tree whenever I step out the door. Red squirrels scamper only if they judge I’m too close. Chipmunks don’t budge. They think I’m slow and dim-witted.
They’re not wrong.
