Bird watching: the bird and the rat

Self-tutoring about outdoor encounters: the tutor mentions a surreal summer afternoon observation.

Yesterday, mid-afternoon, I had “computer head” – the slight headache and dim eyes that can arise from being at the computer for too long. Since it was beautiful outside, what seemed indicated was to pour a coffee, then bring it to sit in the sun awhile. I put on my cap and sunglasses, then went outside and took a seat with my coffee.

The birds were active, but not like they might be in early spring; you’d hear them now and again, the airwaves shared among numerous different species. A few potentially-stinging yellowjackets seemed on patrol, but I hoped that, just sitting back lazily, they wouldn’t bother me.

While the temp was only in the late teens (Celsius), the sun was intense. I could feel it touching my skin; it felt good. Eyes closed most of the time, I leaned back in the deck chair and enjoyed the early summer weather. (I know it’s spring, technically, but it felt like summer.)

A bird was giving a single “chip” call, about once every few seconds. It was different from what I normally hear, so I looked for the bird, and eventually found it. Said bird was flitting between a cedar hedge, one side of a fence, and an apple tree, other side. The bird wasn’t that close, but could still be tracked, mostly by its calls.

When on the apple tree, this bird was picking it over, limb by limb, pretty thoroughly, likely gleaning for insects. Then, it would retreat to the cedar hedge for a couple of minutes, then return to the apple tree, continue gleaning, and so on. Its single-note call, almost metallic, came to dominate the soundscape. I closed my eyes, sipping coffee from time to time, basking in the sun.

After awhile, the bird’s call got more frequent, and sounded urgent. I opened my eyes, finding the bird back in the hedge after about thirty seconds. What was causing that bird to call so intently? Nothing seemed different…

Under the cedar hedge, motion along a fence top caught my eye. A sleek animal, which likely was a rat, poised in front of a post, preparing to jump upon it. The rat was partly in shadow, yet its form was very clear: it was on its hind legs, front paws held in front like hands, tail raised behind it, likely for balance. The rat looked elegant, its fur slick. I’d say it was dark brown. It jumped upon the fence post, then continued forwards.

From there, the fence ran behind an out-building, beyond my view. Just before the rat disappeared that way, the bird streaked through air, from above and behind, towards it. The encounter which one assumes followed happened beyond my view, behind the outbuilding. I believe the bird’s call continued, but much less noticeably.

I never got a great look at the bird, since the above events happened some distance away. However, its behavior I didn’t recognize. I looked up what it might be, and my suspicion is a Cassin’s vireo. Its gleaning habit, as well as its attack against the rat, and its insistent, single-note call suggest such, at least to me.

Interesting, eh?

Source:

Hoar, T.L., De Smet, K., Campbell, R.W., Kennedy, G., Kagume, K. (2010). Birds of Canada. Lone Pine Publishing.