Ardea Herodias

Squawking because Sparrow is on the beach...

     I took the dogs to Jericho Beach today. It's Monday so I knew it wouldn't be crowded. We walked down to the beach so I could throw sticks for Sparrow, who was already in the water - Hawksley beside me near my ankle.

He lands and watches a few tosses of chase the stick.

     We climbed over the last grassy bank to get onto the sand. I heard this guy before I saw him. A Great Blue Heron! My dad asked me if I have a picture of one in flight, so I keep trying. Today I got pretty lucky. As I said I heard him before I saw him, so I got my camera ready. He SQUAWKED a number of times, really loudly complaining that we were disturbing him. We were at least a hundred yards away - and only two other people on the entire beach! He probably thought my dogs would chase him, but they know better - besides this park is chalk full of coyotes, so if someone's dog did chase, I feel like the dog's just keeping whatever it's chasing on whatever it's chasing's toes. Most dogs are just into chasing, not catching. There's a German short haired Pointer and he just stands there, leg up like a statue- for twenty minutes at a time. It's so awesome, the first time you see it it looks a little alarming, the dog is so intently concentrating on the bunny- but then nothing happens and the bunny is just sitting there five feet from the dog, eating a discarded carrot. The Pointer- pointing.
     So I stayed there on the beach right where we were so he could either fish or fly and he chose to fly to the east of us, complaining the whole way! I thought about running a moment or two of video to share the funny sound this big guy made, but I really wanted to get the photos of the Great Blue Heron in flight, like my dad requested. Here's a good one:

Complaining loudly, he flies a few hundred yards east.

     You should be able to click on the photo to make it bigger- for a closer look. There are usually two or three of them here but it was getting warm already at 9:30AM. I noticed tracks all over the beach from dozens of different birds. They must have fished early. It rained pretty hard yesterday but the sunset sky ended with pink, so sailor's delight.
     This is the place to come if you really need to see a Great Blue Heron that day. It's a guarantee practically. I look for their feathers in a few spots and almost always find at least one. They groom in the trees above the duck pond. They fish in the pond all the time too.
     I wondered if they would eat a baby duckling and watched one fishing for frogs. I decided it probably would, and decided to stop wondering before I actually saw it happen. The Herons you see here now are the adults and offspring of the colony that roosts in Stanley Park across the inlet. If you read my previous posting, I Did Not Know That, I won't have to repeat myself here and describe the huge colony...
     We usually leave the beach area and walk towards the Blackberry brambles where the bunnies are. The berries are ripe and cover the vines. Sparrow eats them right off the vine, carefully avoiding the prickles. The pug waits for us to feed him his share. Both dogs love the berries. So do we! There are tons of birds and bunnies that fill this little area. a few weeks ago Eliza and I watched hummingbird fledglings getting flying lessons. Talk about adorable. I was unable to get any footage because it was the one and only day I didn't bring my camera on our walk.

     Lately we have been going to this awesome dog beach. It isn't over used or over run, with about a hundred and fifty yards of shallow water that even Hawksley can play in. Check out this adorable video of him looking for his ball after it sank. He was able to find it again by using his feet, he communicated to me that he had it between his back feet by looking up at me and not moving them and then slowly looking back and into the water - then slowly back up to me. I felt between his back feet and there it was! Smartie! Cutie!

     I have accumulated a number of Great Blue Heron pictures and here are a few. I hope you enjoy them. I don't mind if anyone* (*except for a company or corporation, or for profit or mass reproduction) uses my photos. (So if you are going to profit off of it or publish it please ask me first.) I don't watermark them. I would like the credit for taking them, and would love to hear how and why you used them if you do! I take pictures because I enjoy seeing these sights, and want to share the nature as far and wide as I can in the hopes that people who aren't aware of how important it is will become aware. We need to protect it and support it.
     BIG GREEDY OIL are currently doing something really bad in Alberta for profit. It's called the TAR SANDS. Basically it's a really messy and dirty way of getting oil out of the ground. It uses millions of gallons of  fresh water and created huge environmental catastrophes.
     This is happening and we need to stop it. There is a huge protest going on in Washington DC about stopping a pipeline from going all the way from Alberta Tar Sands to Texas refineries. This will be a major environmental disaster in more ways than one. This isn't just a treehugger (which I am, proudly) sounding off, this is the opinion of brilliant scientists and educated environmentalists alike.
     If you enjoyed my blog, and the photos, please take a moment to look into this threat and spread the word that it is not the direction we all need to be taking. BP's oil spill has destroyed the Shrimp, Pelicans are STARVING to death. The Tar Sands project has had safety issues, and pipeline breaks or oil spills all the time. Thanks for reading. Enjoy the pictures.
     When you are done, please take a moment to click on (if you haven't already) any and all of the coloured links above to better understand the importance of this information...

Fishing off Granville Island

His long head feather is so cool!

Hello again!

Happy summer! 
There is so much that has happened since I last posted that I think today we will just start with some photos.

Stellar Jay on Bowen Island

Stellar Jay successfully begging for handouts.

I worked on Bowen Island for a day last week and  it was such a  great day. The wildlife there is all around you. Birds calling each other, deer wandering everywhere, otters playing on the docks right next to seal cubs sunning on the beach waiting for their mothers to return.

The only real predators on the island, are humans. No bears, coyotes, wolves or cougars although from time to time one will swim across and have to be relocated or in many cases hunted by the human official types. So this makes the mule deer that are prolific on these types of islands, pretty relaxed. For example I was using a palm sander to sand down a few planters, and this particular deer, whose name is Vinnie because of his torn ear, was waiting for me to be distracted enough to loot the apple bucket.

Playing shy guy at first so I turn my back and think he's gone.

Hid behind the tree until the apples were alone.

Success! Took his own apple out of the bucket! See his torn ear?

We have been going to Jericho beach a lot. There are no longer Red Wing Blackbirds everywhere, they left when the Folk Fest took over the park for the weekend. I want to find out where they migrate to during this time. There are only one or to still at the marsh, they call out and are unanswered. It sounds lonely although I am sure they chose to be where they are...

The Gray Herons are still feeding in the marsh and along the beach. We see quite a few each time we go. They fly really high and the only way to tell them apart from eagles at a quick glance is the long legs hanging out behind!

This was one of the biggest Great Grays I have ever seen.

Still trying for the wide open wing shot...

Watching seagulls eat salmon heads @ the marina

Time for a quick grooming under the arm pit.

Hunting in the marsh while the ducks nap.

I was taking pictures of this last Heron when there was a commotion overhead! The Heron was distracted from hunting as something crashed into the tree above me. A branch broke off and fell down, knocking debris from the other limbs as it fell. Eliza saw the whole thing and pointed out the culprit...

This is Heron Looking up at commotion...

This male Belted Kingfisher was the noisy chaser!

I am making an effort to get back into posting each day. It was a hard loss when the Northern Flickers had their tragedy earlier this summer. As far as I know, two females survived to fledge from Gibson's Wildlife Rescue.

From time to time there is a Flicker outside in the Birch. She calls a few times and no one answers her so she flies off. A few blocks away she has a family that she stays near, they all call to each other. I wonder if she isn't the second Mrs Flicker looking for her Mister and Sister wife...

Existential Extinction

Mrs. Flicker's lovely breast feathers... I thought these were just polka dots, until I got a closer look.

     I was born in a small suburb outside of Toronto called Ajax. It was back in the day when kids could go out into the streets all day with little or no adult supervision, and after a long day of tearing around the neighbourhood, we would end up safely home in time for dinner. As the town grew and became more populated, my parents felt the draw to the country. We moved out of this small town and I grew up in an even smaller one, surrounded by nature and farms.

She flew out all by herself to get fed!

     At Lockhart Public School, one of the things we were were schooled on that I learned about and retained some vague knowledge of, was dinosaurs. We were taught about extinction caused by dramatic world events known as Natural Disasters. Meteors, Ice Ages, Flash Floods, Volcanos... pretty much anything could happen to us at any given time to wipe us all out, we were told - but not to worry - because it would all be over before we knew it, and in the blink of an eye - if that ever happened during our lifetime. Still, these doubtful inklings would creep in just before dozing off to sleep... what if?
     The brainwashing continued when they petitioned for, built and activated Nuclear Reactors on the very big & beautiful, Lake Ontario. Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. They stated. No chance of an accident or they wouldn't build it in the first place, our parents convinced themselves, and us. One minute they were teaching us how to hide under our desks and where to go in the event of a Nuclear Disaster, the next minute they were telling us it was impossible and to just continue to carry on living our day to day lives.

     It is only recently that I started to look at these teachings to see how they made me not see reality the way it is in it's natural state. Catastrophic events caused extinction, we were told. Huge, rumbling, sky blazing, smoke filled events that the whole world would witness. Not just hurricanes or tornados, but entire planet threateners.
     I was not taught in any school that extinction was happening each and every day at an alarming rate. Extinction of races of humans, of types of birds, fish, entire species of mammals. Each day. Every day. I wasn't informed of this, it isn't on the six o'clock news. I had to look for this information, I have had to open my own eyes to these realities.
     The Northern Flickers that were nesting in the Birch tree outside my window have been gone for 2 weeks exactly. I started bird watching because of the mating dance between the two females and one male that lasted upwards of a month. We were delighted to see hatchlings squawking for food from mama and daddy. We wondered where the male went, and assume he was killed somewhere around June 7th. I found the mother, dead in my back alley on the 10th and took her 8 nestlings to the Night Owl Bird Hospital where 6 survived the night. In the morning they were prepared for a trip to Gibson's Wildlife Rehab Centre to fight for survival under the gentle care of the good folks there...
     A few weeks ago, I was in put touch with a doctor of ornithology from UBC who told me that Northern Flickers had a very low survival rate. Northern Flickers only have a 46% survival rate. Forty. Six. I am not a wiz at the math, but this statistic tells me these wonderful woodpeckers are heading toward extinction. Fast. I didn't post the statistic before because I didn't want to jinx anyone who might be trying to raise a Flicker family just outside my window. I had high hopes for everyone in the birch tree. This brutal statistic was validated this past week in the loss of another four of the original eight Northern Flicker nestlings that we rescued from the birch cavity. If I include the father and mother, that's eight of ten, dead and gone. I can only hope that one of the original two females that was mating with the male is still alive somewhere. I have no way of knowing. There is one female up another back alley that calls out sometimes when we are walking the dogs. I can only hope it's her.

After lunch she flew up onto her feeder's head to show off!

     I have looked at nature all my life with admiration and awe, and I  have also looked away with great respect. It's fleeting and though full of passion, nature can seem clearly devoid of emotion. The strongest will survive and that's how it works when evolution is the momentum fueling the journey. Really sad moments will be justified during tragic events by humans, but people think that animals seem to just push through tragedy without reaction.
     Today,  only two female nestlings are surviving at the Gibson's Rehab Centre. I went there with Jill & the dogs on Thursday. They have no idea what was caused four of the nestlings to die. There were no warning signs, just little dead Flickers in the bottom of the cage. The first one died within the first two days, it was the weakest bird, but not the smallest. Last Sunday when they went in for the morning feeding they found two males dead, the following day one more male. They were tested repeatedly for parasites, and still found no apparent cause for their passing. It devastated the caring folks who love them and feed them everyday, and their sadness was made harder by having to tell me, and ultimately everyone who reads this that all but two of the six brought to them have perished.

Two little females perch on a log in their cage at GWRC.

     It was a nice visit, and really busy at the centre so we didn't stay long. The fine and wonderful people who take care of these creatures are the only ones on the coast, so they get pretty busy at this time of year. People cutting down trees, re-roofing their homes, clearing out their bushes and sheds disrupt a great deal of nestlings. There is little or no care taken to give birds and other small creatures a fighting chance. On the farm, trees are removed in the fall or very early spring long before there is any chance for babies to be disturbed or essentially killed.
     When I was a kid, in that small town of Ajax, we used to watch movies down the street at the Tarjan's house. We saw stuff hat we normally wouldn't be allowed to watch at home. What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? scared the bejesus out of us. We sang, "the worms crawl in the worms crawl out" after seeing Picture Mommy Dead even though the song itself gave me nightmares until I was 12. When we saw The Blob, we laughed that that actually frightened people. Clips of people running from old movie houses represented the very best of scary movies back then. We heard War Of the Worlds and were told that it caused major hysteria in it's day. Sent people into a state of panic, jammed phone lines created grid locked traffic from believers fleeing for their lives.

Mrs. Northern Flicker feeding 2 of her 8 hatched nestlings before she was hit by a car & killed on June 10, 2011.

     I am afraid that most people are waiting for this type of dramatic display to take action against the slow poisoning of our fresh water sources. It's rapid in reality, but what if the daily decline of our wildlife isn't fast enough for everyone to care in the timely manner that we need it to take place. When folks went to see The Awful Truth, Al Gore's movie about the climate crisis, no one left the theatre running, for the first time I felt like it. Does everyone have to wake up to no birds singing to notice we have a serious problem? Because it'll be way too late then, and the credits will be rolling...
     There are things we can do to wake people up faster. I think putting a stop to the coal mine in the watershed on Vancouver Island near Parksville in the Comox Valley would be a great way to show people all over the planet that we have a real crisis that needs to be addressed. People look to the west for sound advice. We lead the way in North America for natural healthcare services for ourselves and for our pets.  We know the right way to do things here, and have the capacity to make the right decisions. It's time to make the changes we need to make. Ending the production of coal in Canada is just one...
     We parked the car in the shade of some nice trees to let the ferry traffic pass and die down. I heard the familiar PEER! of the Northern Flicker through our open windows. I looked up into the tree behind the car and saw a knot had been hollowed out about 20 feet up into the tree...

Young male Northern Flicker waiting for mama to feed him.

    I thought it was pretty great, we saw a female getting fed, and moments later, her brother appeared for his gullet to be filled. His red cheeks just filling in against his light grey head.
    He peeked his head out and shouted at his mom to bring him more food. A mother mule deer walked right behind me escorting her two spotty backed baby fawns. She startled when she saw me, but didn't run into the traffic, she carefully guided her babies to safety behind the tree line next to the chain link fence that surrounded a hydro station.
    I know that even though four of those little Northern Flickers we brought in didn't make it back to nature, they died with full bellies, safe and warm and cared for. They didn't merely starve to death in the cavity of the birch over a period of time that would have been cold and lonely and a stark contrast to the love and care they got right up to the end. Intention takes a back seat to nature's master plan and that's the way it should be. That's why we need to stop doing things that go against nature. Like mining coal.
     It's Sunday June 26th, 2011. CLICK here to: STOP A COAL MINE!

Rescuing Nestling Northern Flickers

The Flicker Nestling Rescue

Last few photos of Mrs. Flicker, landing and feeding...

     Friday was now history, and Saturday sunrise was met without the chirping of the Northern Flicker family of West Eleventh Avenue. We had a few things to organize before the trip to West Vancouver, and then across on a ferry to the sunshine coast to the Gibson's Wildlife Rescue Centre. We wanted to walk the dogs early so they would be comfortable for the trip. I loaded them into the car and walked around to the driver's side. There were some feathers swirling around on the grass beside the alley next to the parking spot. Feathers I missed when i gathered Mrs. Flicker from the alley. I picked them up now...
     A small detail that comes only from a sort of intimate study of a Northern Flicker, like when they aren't alive anymore. I felt like I was let in on a kind of secret. The spotted chest or Mrs. Flicker isn't polka dots at all. Blowing across the grass near where I found her body were tiny cream coloured feathers, each one with a little black heart where I had expected to see a polka dot. I was glad to know it and sadder for knowing it at the same time. Somehow it made me even more determined to save these little nestlings from the unrelenting city.

Landing with a gullet full of food... second last time.

      And- can I just say, that I understand that sometimes animals are struck by cars and it is completely unavoidable-save for never driving a car- but this rare woodpecker, with 8 babies, was hit in a back alley next to a curb. If the driver were paying attention, not speeding carelessly, Mrs. Flicker would still be with her offspring. The nestlings wouldn't be in a cage in a Vet clinic on West Broadway waiting for us to drive them a hundred miles away to give them a fighting chance at survival.
     And to the advice of those who don't think that people should interfere with nature that quickly or drastically, downtown Vancouver isn't nature. A city park, isn't nature - it's landscaping. Nature is where people don't come first, or second or even third. There are ways we can help nature succeed to include us so we can evolve with it, but it means Everyone putting effort towards controlling corporations and governments to force them into behaving the way we expect them to, and by NOT PUTTING PROFIT FIRST ANYMORE. If you are confused, or not convinced, go see a Michael Moore documentary, or watch The Corporation, check out the David Suzuki Foundation, talk to Leonardo Dicaprio or Ed Begley Jr. if you don't feel like figuring it out for yourself.
     And folks, you can't expect a bunch of famous people to sing a song or hold a benefit and fix things. Each person has to make a little effort. Okay, no more lecture. I am just saying... wake UP, look  around. Slow DOWN notice things. Pay attention to your surroundings... do SOMETHING!
Now, back to the Flickers...
     We went to the Night Owl Bird Hospital and collected 6 baby Northern Flickers to deliver to GWRC. 2 of the nestlings did not survive the night. It seems that Mrs. Flicker was already having a hard time keeping up with all the babies as it was. 4 were really healthy, 2 noticeably smaller ones would require a little more attention but were doing really well, but the two that perished were an indication that she was just barely keeping up. The doctor mentioned she was surprised she even had enough food to feed all these little ones. Eliza mentioned our suet paddles and Dr. MacDonald thought that could have been what was keeping everyone alive.

6 nestlings packed up and ready for travel...

     Night Owl had fed and readied the babies for the journey, so we didn't even have to lift the towel that covered their cages until we presented them to GWRC. The trip and ferry ride were uneventful and pleasant. The babies made weird noises that perked our dogs ears the entire ride...The kind folks who run GWRC were excited to have this cheeky species back in their folds, they had raised two before and successfully released them in back into nature. We were lucky to have rescued them so fast that they didn't really suffer a great deal of trauma. They didn't really need to recover from anything or be nursed back to health, they were lively and alert and HUNGRY!

This is the Northern Flicker's fresh nest at GWRC.

     Immediately expert hands of the lady of the house went into action. She had each bird fed in mere moments, using a plastic coffee stirrer, and a special formula developed by the Ornithological Society of America.
Because the babies are eager to eat and open up for feedings, they won't require too much handling and won't become too trusting of humans. This makes their chances of survival so much higher. Being wary of people makes them nest further from poisons, urban encroachment, cats and of course, traffic.
     We got the grand tour of the Rehab Centre. It's just a wonderful place operating out of the goodness of these people's hearts. Please donate generously through their website if you can contribute to the caring of some really wonderful creatures, including the Flickers!

off the front of the ferry to GRWC

Ferry to Sunshine Coast with Flickers.

looking out the side of the ferry

6 fed nestlings, ready to nap...

     In my neighbourhood we would learn to adjust to the amputated Birch across the street, and now that  the nestling Northern Flickers are in the right hands, they will live and be released back into nature! With any luck there is something in them that migrates them back to Gibson's or somewhere else safe on the Sunshine Coast, and not back here into downtown chaos.
     I talk to GWRC every day. Progress is the only thing to report! the runt is the boldest, demanding food first, and last - most are perching on the lip of the cage and waiting to be fed, the other 2 are on a cloth still a little small to perch on their own. But no one needs to have their beak pried apart & held open for feeding! They are all eager eaters and that makes them even more likely to survive to adulthood! We are going to visit them tomorrow.

This could be a Flicker home...

... and look how remote! 

Paradise for any woodpecker, right there in Gibson's on the Sunshine Coast.

Tragedy on West Eleventh...

Dedicated to the Flickers of West 11th & Hemlock...

Beautiful Mrs. Flicker feeds her nestlings dutifully.

     In an attempt to keep this Flicker Report as accurate and true as possible, I will install each day of this past weekend as it unfolded, and as an individual posting instead of trying to tell it all on one page, in one sitting. So, without further explanation and with a total broken heart, I have to tell you that a devastating tragedy has befallen our dear Flicker family and extreme measures had to be taken in order to save the babies.

Mrs. Flicker keeps the nest clean after feeding her nestlings.

Here are the events.
Friday June 10 6:45AM
     Eliza and I woke up and the first thing Eliza saw through a crack in the curtain, while still lying in bed with our dogs & cats, was Mrs. Flicker feeding on the suet paddle on our back porch. She fed for a while before filling her gullet and flying across the street to the Birch cavity that housed her nestlings. I watched her feed  a few eager gaping beaks before getting up and dressed and heading out with my dog for my morning cuppa coffee.

There is a little white knob on either side of the lower beak.

     When I came back, Mrs. Flicker was on Jill's suet paddle pecking away. I came into the house and got my camera ready. I saw her make another trip to the nest and go inside. she made a few trips to clean out the mess the babies had made in the night.
     The suet paddles were getting low and I was planning on a trip to the bird store to replenish her paddles. I mentioned to Eliza that we hadn't seen Mr. Flicker since the 6th or at the latest 7th of June. We weren't sure if he had another family, or what became of him these last few days but we weren't totally worried - just wondering when/if we'd see him again.
     It was now 8:30 AM and I was waiting to get my morning photos, so I was pretty glued on the nest, expecting her to come back at any moment.  An hour passed.  Two hours passed.
     Two and a half hours passed and the babies had now been up to the hole a few times and their shouts for mama continued to go unanswered. I have rescued quite a few baby animals and I  grew up an a small farm so I know that babies need constant care, feeding & warmth. Especially the little ones that can't feed themselves, like naked baby woodpeckers in a tree cavity. I asked Eliza to keep an eye on the nest while I walked to the store with Sparrow & Hawksley to get the suet.
     We walked up an alley and looked for Mrs. or Mr. Flicker. No sign of them. Silence. We got back home and Eli said she was worried too, that there was still no sign of her. We decided to go looking for her. Maybe she got caught somewhere, she couldn't be far. We walked around each of the four blocks that we know they travel and hunt for food. We checked the back alleys and listened. Nothing.
The babies were now leaning out of the hole with regularity, squawking for their mama to bring food. I started to feel really uneasy. This was not good. She should be here for sure by now. Eliza stayed by the nest, watching. The babies had attracted the attention of the crows. Even they were aware the babies were left alone too long.
     Eliza and I walked around the back and saw 5 or 6 crows sitting on Jill's porch. Motionless. Sombre. It was eerie. I chased them off gently and took Sparrow with me for another look. This time I did what I do when I really need to find something or someone. I walked a block from the house in no particular direction. I tried to clear my mind from worry, from guessing. I need to find her, I rolled those words across my brain to clear it from my thoughts of what ifs... I need to find her so I know what to do. I need to find her so I know the right thing to do for the babies.
     I am telling you the honest to goodness truth when I tell you that then next thing that happened was I  heard a Flicker's call. PEER! My heart started to pound... okay, call again, I heard you-... PEER! PEER! PEER! Sparrow and I trotted south towards the call and turned down the back alley... listening... listening... nothing. We waited. Nothing. We continued in the direction we had come to be facing and ended up in the alley that runs off of my parking lot. I was across the street and looked down my own alley.
     My heart sunk in my chest without me even knowing why yet. Heart pounding walking, Sparrow  beside me tucked up, squinting at me, worried and not trotting ahead with his tail all pompous. We crossed Hemlock street and I could clearly see 2 wings jutting up from the ground at an impossible angle. The word no caught in my throat, and Sparrow's tail tucked under him. He looked up at me and then his nose scented the air with great concern. He stayed close beside me, monitoring my reaction.
     I got up to whatever it was that I was reacting to and my brain tried to make sense of the muddle I was looking at. My eyes scanned the little slip of feathers and body tangled in a little arc. under one wing, tucked I finally saw her beautiful head and black beak. It was odd. No blood, not messy, just entirely ironed out into nothing but feathers.
I came into the house and told Eliza that we had an emergency. I told her I found her and that she was gone. I couldn't say the word dead about that bird. I grabbed my gloves and gathered Mrs. Flicker's little empty body as best I could. By the look of the scene, she had been busy focused on an ant hill next to the curb in the alley and some careless driver ran her over. Then the next person, and the next person for probably the whole three hours we had searched for her. This is not a small bird. This was careless, thoughtless driving.

Hungry babies call for mama Northern Flicker.

When I get into these situations, which seem to be a reoccurring theme in my life oddly, I go into auto pilot. Once I had her gathered, I went for her babies.
Ladder. Box to put them in. Suet to try to lure them up to the hole. The first ladder I was going to climb was about a hundred years old. Wooden. Eliza made me get down off of it before I was even half way up. There was a huge aluminum ladder in the other basement, pain in the ass but I got it out with Eli's help. I climbed up but the babies were naturally scared and deep into the cavity. My hand could fit in, but with a bird in it I doubted I could pull it back out. Eliza climbed up. Her arm went in deep, but not deep enough to catch anyone. We tried a little suet, and she caught the first baby. I climbed up behind her and took him and gently placed him into a dark box. We tried for about half an hour to get another one of the four babies we knew were in there but no one else came close enough to grab.

Eliza up the ladder reaching in for the nestling Flickers.

    It wasn't working, and we didn't have time to wait. I also didn't want to try a whole bunch of things that would upset them and compromise the stressed little ones any more than they were. We made the hard decision to put the baby we had, back into the nest so he would at least be with his brothers and sisters. I ran down to the fire station. Eliza called her good friend and fellow animal advocate, Alisen, who would rush right over after walking her pup.
     The fire truck at Fire Station number 4 on West 10th Avenue a block from my house was out at the moment. The fire fighter who answered the door when I rang heard me and told me I could ask the Captain, but he couldn't say either way whether or not they could help. Could I come back in half an hour, of course. I went to the landlord of the building that actually housed the Birch tree and the cavity of babies. I rang him up and explained the dire situation. He thought about it and asked for more details. I took him out to the tree and showed him what I planned to make happen. The fire department will do it if I have his permission I told him... he agreed if I was sure this was the only way to save the babies.
     I walked home and turned the corner to see firetruck #4 parked down on the corner in front of Rangoli, a great restaurant for lunch. I waited until I saw the guys around the truck and I ran down. I explained that there was a nest - that they were woodpeckers and they were rare birds and they were going to die if they didn't help us. I also completely understand if they can't help us. It's not their duty to risk their lives for birds. They run into buildings,when everyone else is running out. They are important members of our community and to ask this of them was a lot, if anything happened to them or if it all went terribly wrong their intervening could be really awful fro them.
Where? They asked... I ran to the tree a hundred yards away. You want to do this? the Captain asked his crew? They were already suiting up and cracking out the chainsaw. A small crowd gathered.
Ladder up to the tree. Secured. One guy climbs it and makes sure it's safe.
Eliza passed up my old undershirt and he crams it into the cavity to act like a plug to keep the babies low, block out some of the horrific noise, and keep it dark.
He climbs down. Suited up firefighter climbs up with chainsaw and slices the top off of the limb like butter. He climbs down with saw. First guy scoots back up the ladder and straddles himself over the branch and looks in. He pulls out my undershirt and drops it to his guy below. Ready? Here we go.

Fireman that helped rescue the Northern Flicker Nestlings.

He reaches in, One.
Two.
Three.
Four. We're going to need a bigger box.
Five.
Six.
Seven. There is some concern about seven and eight. EIGHT!?
     They passed Eliza the empty Hepa filter box full of 8 baby Flickers. Took down the ladder. Put away the chainsaw. Smiled and let us thank them briefly, and left. These big strong wonderful firemen were pleased to help us do something that was in their minds, a happy thing. They saved a bunch of rare birds!  How great is that? They asked us to let them know how they were doing, I promised I would. And will.
     So now we had a little hot box of birdies. Alisen had been on the phone the entire hour she was here, investigating and researching where we could take this precious cargo, and had all the answers. We jumped into her car and drove only a few blocks to the Night Owl Bird Hospital on West Broadway. They were waiting for us and took us right in to an exam room. The most wonderful calm angel walked quietly into the room and asked us what we had brought her. 8 baby Flickers we said, Dr. Anne Macdonald dropped her jeweler's magnifying goggles down and peered into the little box. She immediately told us to stay there and she took the nestlings into the back exam room.
    She came back a 10 minutes later and asked me for the whole story. (Read my previous posts for the back story I told this superb human being.) She asked us what our involvement was going to be. I explained that I was here to see this through and do what ever had to be done to rescue, raise and rehabilitate these guys, that after all the joy I got from their moms & dad, it was the very least I could do. She knew of a place that had successfully raised Flickers before, but it was quite a ways away, could we drive them? We could borrow Jill's car, and take them across to the sunshine coast tomorrow morning- first thing!
    We got home and not fifteen minutes later the phone rang. The Gibson's Wildlife Rehab Centre was calling. Irene was on the phone, with a sage Scottish lilt. I have that loyalty coursing through my veins as well, the familiarity was comforting. She described their setting and gave me directions. I would see her tomorrow at half past noon, and deliver a passel of baby Northern Flickers for her to nurture back to nature.
     Eliza & I went to bed knowing that things would most likely be okay after a really sad, tragic day. I looked out at the lopped off  Birch and it looked exactly as empty and quiet as I felt. Amputated. Death sucks so badly for those of us left living to feel it's sting. In my mind, I recited the things that Dr. Anne MacDonald told me.
     She explained that Mrs. Flicker was doing a good job, but clearly struggling over the loss of Mr. Flicker who had disappeared 3 days before. Six of the babies were pretty clean and fed, but two might not make it though the night. These two were the least developed, and probably couldn't make it up to the hole for feeding like the rest, so they would only got fed when mama could get past the others to get to the bottom of the cavity.
     The doctor told us that the other six would for sure thrive in the care of a rehab centre and instead of all perishing in the city because of everyone running them over in cars, poisoning them with crap to make flowers grow, weeds die and grass greener they have a better chance of surviving to full maturity in Gibson's, than in downtown Vancouver. She said that because they were brought in relatively healthy, the care giver would have less to deal with. These were all good things. Eliza set the alarm clock for 6AM, we passed out, exhausted...                  to be continued.

The empty cavity the nestlings were taken from...

FLICKER UPDATE! BABY FOOTAGE!

And that means they are big enough to reach the hole!

She can reach in to feed them without going inside today!

We counted four beaks so far. The mama is so busy feeding them.

They look like they are kept in the dark, all ghostly looking.

Today the Northern Flicker baby birds in the cavity of the Birch tree across the street are big enough to be seen during feeding time! Look at this video of the Mother Northern Flicker feeding a bunch of babies! I won't get into a long description of it, the pictures say it all...

They squawk & sound exactly like the parents sound, only tiny.

Almost all, except that the sound is hard to hear over the traffic of the city, and really surprisingly loud! They sound just like their parent's mating call, except they sound really tiny. But you can recognize the Flicker call coming out of the cavity of the Birch tree.

Baby waits for his mama to begin the jack hammer feeding.

After feeding female Northern Flicker leaves the cavity.