Battle of the Bluebirds
search Bluebird photos
While out in the meadow, glassing the usual cast of characters, I saw a bird off in the distance fluttering on the ground. Foraging, I thought. As I approached closer, I could see it was an eastern bluebird, in some form of distress.
With wings flapping and it’s body flailing, my heart sank, as I began to assume that this individual had suffered some trauma, and could no longer fly. I approached slowly. It was only until I walked right up to the blur of brilliant blue feathers, that I could recognize two bluebirds. Both males, and obliviously fighting. They were so intent on winning the territorial rights to this particular patch of meadow, that both birds were oblivious to my presence.
Very close now, I watched intently, studying the struggle as these two seemingly crazed individuals jumped on one another, bills pecking wildly and feet scratching. After several agonizing minutes, my human sensibilities took over and I leaned down and picked up each male, one in each hand. The claws on their feet were embedded in each others ear holes. It took careful effort to separate them.
Amazed at what I was experiencing, I held both up, looking for signs of injury. They sat calmly in my hands chirping loudly. It didn’t last long. Both struggled hard against my grip to get free, and I immediately let one go. It flew up about 10 feet and began dive-bombed the other while still in my hand. I swung my shoulders around to protect the bird, but whichever direction I tried to move, the other bluebird kept out maneuvering me, and attacking the handheld bluebird. I decided to let the other challenger free, and immediately both flew up into the air where they would collide with each other and spiral to the ground, feet firmly locked into each others feathers.
Robins begin to arrive to the scene. Seemingly curious, each robin would begin by perching on an overhanging branch and cock it’s head to one side to get a better look at the action. Not satisfied with their balcony seats, the robins began to drop to the ground and jump excitedly around the fighting bluebirds, as if to almost be cheering them on.
I left the battling duo to run back to the house to grab my camera. Running towards the house, I wondered if I would return only to find the loser beaten to the point of either exhaustion, or damaged beyond any recover. Or maybe even worse - all this attention of flying feathers might attract a nearby pair of nesting cooper’s hawks.
Running back out to the meadow as fast as I could, with my camera in tow, I could see both birds had not wavered in their resolve to soundly defeat the other. The blur of feathers, their madly spinning bodies, each gladiator was undeterred. I returned to my seat in the clover, and turned to the robins hoping they might fill me on what I’d missed. No luck, the action was too intense now for a recap.
Tuning into the frenzy of their melodic chimes and I was able to pick up on the frequency of a chirping female in a nearby tree. Overseeing the whole drama, she jumped around frantically from one branch to another, always looking for a better vantage point. She too was unaware to my presence as at one point she landed on my shoulder. Her jewel toned calls that close to my ear sent me into elation. With shivers up my spine, I dared not move. And then I remembered, I have a camera hanging off my neck. Waiting patiently until she found a better seat, I began photographing the action.
This was to be a no-holds-bar, knockdown, drag out scrap to the finish. And to the victor would come the spoils. Yet without notice (I was waiting for the end of a round one bell to ring), one of the males flew over to the nestbox and jumped inside. The female followed, hovering outside the hole. The other male flew to a close by branch, and sat quietly. It was over. Defeated, the tree perching bluebird breathed heavily but looked no worse for wear. I studied him carefully through my binoculars hoping not to find any signs of injury from such a fierce battering.
Back at the nestbox, the other male and the female were now chittering loudly to each other, with the male firmly anchored at his new throne – the hole of the nestbox. All hail to the king.
Ps: The pair went on to successfully raise and fledge 3 young bluebirds.
|
New Jersey Photos
Quick Search
New Jersey Landscapes
New Jersey Wildlife
New Jersey Bird photos
New Jersey Owl photos
Owl Fact
Sheet
New Jersey Butterflies
New Jersey Lifestyle photos
New Jersey Flowers - Flora
Jersey Cranberry Harvest
Moorestown, New Jersey
|
|
907.479.9196 | ©