Bird of the Week

Bird 55 – Barn Owl

Today I’m announcing a change to your weekly bird.

The time has come to shift this publication from the public to the private sector. I’ve felt for a while that the bird is going so far beyond the original dozen friends it was made for that it’s probably a smidgen inappropriate that it keeps coming from my work email; up until now, though, my laziness has been too powerful an inertia to overcome. But no longer. Starting from next week the bird will come to you from a new address: weekly.bird@outlook.com. My staff have spent the last week running beta testing on the new service, so it should be a smooth transition.

The bird will also now arrive on a Sunday, so it should already be sitting in your inbox on Monday morning when you log on. It may now come from a different home, but otherwise the bird will remain the same sometimes factual(ish), sometimes humours(ish), freewheeling cavalcade of colour, feathers, and sometimes death it’s always been.

My thanks for reading and sharing, and I look forward to bringing you more birds in our rebirthed phoenixed version.

So now, let’s get down to the real reason why you’re here: Birds!

Specifically this bird: the Barn Owl (Tyto alba).

They’re an especially handsome bird, belonging to the order Strigiformes, along with some 200 other species of owl. Unduly famed for their intelligence, but rightly famed for their ability to murder. And let me tell you, these guys are built for death. They have a couple of interesting features which aid them in this endeavour, and much like our little friend the Ptarmigan from last week, it all comes down to the feathers.

First, you’ll note their sweet little faces. See how the feathers around their eyes look like wee satellite dishes. That’s no accident, much like a satellite dish, their facial feathers act to funnel faint sounds directly into their ears, so they can hear the slightest rustle, and then pounce.

Next, Barn owls make almost no sound as they fly, so the rustling of their own feathers won’t tip off any oblivious vermin. How do they do that? Along the leading edge of their wing are a series of tiny serrations that break up the air flow, reducing turbulence and noise.

Image result for barn owl feather serrated

Testing has shown that this noise reduction design is most effective when the wing is at a steep angle, which would be when they want to come in to strike. Silent assassins of the night they are.

But there is one more cool thing about Barn Owl wings. If you have ever been to Japan and rode the bullet train, part of its design is based on their wings. You see, its designer, Eiji Nakatsu, was an avid bird watcher and in an attempt to increase speed and reduce noise he borrowed the owl wing design for the train’s pantograph, which it the bit that attaches the train to the overhead wires.

This kind of design is called biomimicry. And the owl is not the only bird to have lent its features to the train. What was the other bird?

Guess you’ll have to read next week. Or you could just google it, but where would the fun be in that?

10/12/2018

Bird 54 – White-tailed Ptarmigan

As we enter summer it’s time to adapt to our new environment – shed the jacket, slather the sunscreen and flick that reverse cycle air conditioner over.

Of course, some birds do a similar thing. And there are few better at the winter/summer shift than the White-tailed Ptarmigan (Lagopus leucura).

Image result for white-tailed ptarmigan — That’s Ptarmigan with a silent ‘P’.

They’re one of the Galliformes, so in effect it’s like a tiny Turkey.

Now, here is the Ptarmigan getting around in its summer coat.

And here’s one in winter wear.

The first picture was of it in transition. Obviously it makes the change so it can do the camouflage better. I mean, we don’t call them game birds for nothing, so these guys gotta hide. (When it comes to birds, read ‘game’ as code for, ‘things we like to shoot’.)

But these guys have another feathery trick. A bird’s feathers can do a couple of things: flying, insulation, camo, just being handsome and fabulous in general. But the Ptarmigan adds another one to the list. Take a look at its little winter booties.

In the winter it grows a layer of feathers over its feet. These feathers keep their toes warm, but they also act as little snow shoes, helping the Ptarmigan to walk over snow drifts without sinking into them. That’s right they grow snow shoes.

What a bird!

03/12/2018

Bird 53 – Cinereous Mourner

So it must be said I don’t play favourites with birds, unless of course it’s a California Quail or a particularly fancy pigeon or has higher than usual murderous tendencies … okay, maybe I do play favourites. Well, this week we can add another bird to that list.

This is the Cinereous Mourner (Laniocera hyopyrra), and he’s a bit of cutie, if rather unassuming.

The word cinereous means grey, so so far it’s doing what on the label, although I have no idea what it has to be mournful about. They live in South American rainforests, where it scoots about doing bird stuff, like solving crimes (probably not solving crimes). On the surface it doesn’t appear to have a lot to distinguish it. But would your old mate Nate send you a dull bird? No, he most certainly would not.

Now, check out, if you will, the Cinereous Mourner hatchling.

Compared to its parent it looks pretty bizarre, what with all that fluffy orange down, and strange white spurs sticking out (the technical name for the white bit is a filoplume). What is this loopy chick doing? Well take a look at this thing:

What is that? No, it’s not Donald Trump’s hair after it finally escaped. That is the caterpillar of a particular type of moth (the megalopygidae). And that trumpesque hair it’s sporting is highly toxic, not unlike the real Trump. As a hatchling, the Cinereous Mourner mimics the appearance of this caterpillar as a strategy to ward off predators. It even wriggles its head in such a way to imitate the caterpillar’s own movements.

This is called Batesian mimicry, and occurs when a harmless animal evolves to mimic the appearance of a dangerous animal (the model) to fool predators (the dupes). Tends to happen a lot in insects, such as flies that look like bees.

But this little mourner has the strategy figured out. Good work, my tiny friend. Be the caterpillar, squirm away, channel its powers.

26/11/2018

Bird 52 – Wild Turkey

As our American friends prepare for Thanksgiving this week, it seems an appropriate time to honour the bird that takes centre stage for this holiday.

The Turkey (Meleagris gallopavo).

One of the Galliformes: the ‘game birds’, Chickens and Quails and the likes. It’s basically a big old chicken. And it is big – by weight the Turkey is actually the heaviest bird still capable of flight.

It’s also been a really long time since we did a bird that has murderous tendencies, and boy oh boy the Turkey has no qualms when it comes to attacking people. Much like Chickens, Turkeys also have a pecking order to their social structure and will fight each other to assert dominance and become top chicken. Unlike Chickens, though, Turkeys will often see people as being part of their flock and so will attack anyone they believe is subservient to them. The Turkey wants to dominate you, and I mean, it probably will, look at that thing!

Image result for turkey head — Ain’t no-one messing with that

But maybe the most interesting thing about the Turkey is its name. It’s native to North America, so why does it have the same name as a country on the other side of the world? Well, it’s complicated.

Way back in the day, Turk merchants used to bring Guineafowl from Africa to Europe, and over time these birds became referred to as Turkeys because of where they were traded out of. When new settlers to America arrived they misidentified these birds as Guineafowl and started calling them the same thing, and the name just stuck. In their defence, they do look kinda similar, they’re both Galliformes, so you know, they were close. The Guineafowl is really a lot more speckled, though.

But here’s where it gets stupid. They don’t call Turkeys Turkey in Turkey. They call them Hindi, as do the French, pullet d’Inde (Chicken from India). Because way back when, the New World was called the West Indies, because Columbus wasn’t great at geography. Well okay, so surely the Indians know the Turkey doesn’t come from their country either, so they must have it straight, right? Nope. In India the bird is referred to as Piru or Peru, but it doesn’t come from Peru either.

This is one misleading bird. Well, how about its taxonomical name? Meleagris means guineafowl, so we’re back on that first mistake again, and gallopavo is a portmanteau of gallo, meaning rooster and pavo, meaning peacock. So it’s taxonomical name literally translates to guineafowl-rooster-peacock. Which somehow manages to cover every base without referencing what the thing actually is. It’s at this point we come to realise that language has no inherent meaning.

So now maybe we should do what we should have done right at the start. What do the Native American’s call the damn thing? It’s got a couple of different native names, but my favourite is Omahksipi’kssii, which translates as ‘Big Bird’. And you know what … they ain’t wrong.

19/11/2018

Bird 51 – Spinifex Pigeon

It’s time for an anniversary bird.

On this week a year ago I sent an email to six people, pointing out an excellent bird that they needed to pay attention to.

While walking home that day I paused to say good afternoon to the local Magpies, as I always do, and they looked at me with murder in their eyes and we all laughed. As I went on my way though I thought to myself, ‘people need to know, there are birds’. Thus Bird of the Week was born. But what was that first excellent bird? Well, quite appropriately it was a pigeon, and an especially fancy and jazzy pigeon at that – it was the Bird of Week Pilot and now it’s back for all of you to enjoy.

This is the Spinifex Pigeon (Geophaps plumifera).

It’s an Australian pigeon, hangs out in spinifex, in the desert, mostly near water, because bird gotta drink. You’ll note their excellent plumage, crest, and cool facial masks. Need I say more about what makes them particularly nifty? You’ll also note its similar appearance to the Crested Pigeon (see Bird of the Week 48), and indeed the two are closely related, although the Spinifex Pigeon really outdoes its larger greyer cousin in the looks department.

They’re also one of those birds that can fly, but just isn’t interested in that noise. They usually opt to run away on foot if they’re threatened, rather than winging it, which doesn’t seem super efficient, but I guess they know what they’re about. And I get it, flying can be a hassle, you know what I’m saying, all that flapping, and it’s so hot today, we’re in a desert guys, gees, just … just chill out, okay.

I get where you’re coming from, pigeon. You just hang out under the shady crags and have a splash in the water.

So that’s a year of Bird of the Week! Thank you to everyone who’s signed up to the bird, and everyone who’s shared the bird. I’m genuinely surprised ya’ll continue to be interested in my nonsense, but worry not I’ve got plenty more. The birds will return next week, as they do every week. Cooing, moulting, being fabulous and generally leaving a mess in your inbox.

12/11/2018

Bird 50 – Flightless Cormorant

You know, we had so much fun on the Galapagos last week I thought we should keep the dream alive and spend a second week there, and— No, we’re not doing the Finches, stop asking about the Finches, gees.

Instead let’s take a look at this fine fellow, the Flightless Cormorant (Phalacrocorax harrisi).

All Cormorants belong to the genus Phalacrocorax in the order Suliformes, which also include Gannets and Boobys.*

Unlike other Cormorants though, they got super stubby wings only about a third the size of what a bird of a similar size would need to fly. As seen below, normal Cormorant right, Flightless left.

But like all Cormorants, their wings aren’t waterproof, so they have to spend time drying them out. This characteristic display is also where the delightful expression, like a shag on a rock, comes from. ‘Shag’ being another term for a Cormorant.

I think the main question we all have, though, is how did this usually flighty bird become flightless. Well, I mean, who can say for sure? But I’ve got a pretty good idea of how it went down.

What I think happened, see, is those Penguins from last week turned up one day and started lording their flightlessness over the other birds. Look at them getting around wearing their little tuxedos, the Cormorants would say, acting like they’re the aristocrats of birds. Well, they want to see flightlessness, we’ll show them flightlessness better than they ever dreamed.

What followed was something of an arms race, or wings race if you will. A race to the ground to see who could resolutely do the best job of staying out of the sky. Penguins have great pedigree in this race – they’re basically organic torpedos. But you’ve really got to hand it to the plucky new comers, being flightless doesn’t just happen overnight, but they stuck to their guns and really pulled it off.

5/11/2018

*And to answer your question, yes we’re going to have a Booby week. Gees birds are filthy, cocks, tits, boobys, and have you seen the lining of a budgie cage – filthy!

Bird 49 – Galapagos Penguin

I think it’s time to finally visit the Galapagos Islands. And I know what you’re thinking, here come the Finches. Well steady on, Buddy, because them islands have more birds to offer than just finches. On top of which, we haven’t done a Penguin since Bird of the Week 02, so it’s high time for another.

This is the Galapagos Penguin (Spheniscus mendiculus). Like all Penguins it belongs to the order Sphenisciformes.

Now, you may be asking, what is a polar bird doing way up in the tropics? Well, as far as I can gather they rode in on a cold current that came up from the Antarctic. The current keeps their waters cool, and provides good food for the eating. I guess they just liked the area and decided to stay. Of all the penguins they spend the most time on land, and don’t really do the whole long stint at sea thing. As can be seen below:

Another fun fact, they are the rarest Penguin in the world.

But the ultimate fun fact is one you can use against people who are trying to out-nerd you. It’s commonly known that penguins only live in the Southern Hemisphere, right. Well, the northern most tip of the island Isabela, where these penguins live, actually jusssst juts above the equator, so technically, some of these Penguins do in fact live in the Northern Hemisphere.

So the next time some fool tries to tell you about Penguins, you can say, ‘look here, friendo (make sure to add the ‘o’ so they know you aren’t really their friend), don’t you tell me about Penguins okay, I know about Penguins.’ And then walk away without telling them the fun fact – power move. It’ll leave them disarmed and confused and you would have asserted your dominance.

Bird of the Week provides the best life advice.

29/10/2018

Bird 48 – Crested Pigeon

When a bird arrives on a Wednesday instead of a Monday you know something must be deeply wrong in the world. Either that or I haven’t been in the office for a few days, but really, who can say?

This week I thought, let’s go with a bird everyone has definitely seen – hell, you might even see it today. It’s the Crested Pigeon (Ocyphaps lophotes).

That’s right the pigeons are back, baby.

You might also know them as Topknot Pigeons, but that would be a mistake, as the Topknot Pigeon is its own type of pigeon. Maybe one day it’ll get its own week, but really, who can say?

These are pretty neat pigeons, which have done surprisingly well since European settlement, and they’re actually far more common now than they were when first discovered. I know, right, crazy! They like to hang out in open suburban areas. They peck about on the ground mostly, and build super flimsy looking nests. Masters of design the Crested Pigeon is not.

Now, I don’t know much about nest building, but to me that looks like those eggs are rolling right out.

Anyway, the most notable thing about this Pigeon, which I’m sure you’ve all noticed, is the whistling noise their wings make when they take off. Turns out the culprit behind this whistle is one feather, the 8th primary feather on each wing. As seen here, it’s much skinnier than the others.

Image result for crested pigeon 8th feather

If this feather is clipped the Pigeon won’t whistle. But, these pigeons use the whistle as a form of non-auditory communication. For you see, the faster the Pigeon flaps its wings the higher in pitch the whistle. So if the Pigeon is trying to escape from danger and is moving faster the whistle will be higher pitched and will warn other birds to get out of Dodge. Ornithologists have followed these Pigeons around playing the whistle sound at different frequencies, and have found that the higher the pitch the greater the likelihood that other Pigeons will take off in alarm. Ya’ll, they got an inbuilt warning system.

Now, if you’re anything like me, the thought you’re having right now is, ‘you mean to tell me people actually get paid to stalk pigeons, how do I get in on that action?’ To that I say, you’ve got some nerve, it was my idea first, you need to back off.

24/10/2018

Bird 47 – Northern Brown Kiwi

So we all had such a fun time in the Pacific Ocean last week I thought we should just keep it rolling and hop a couple of islands to New Zealand. Because after you do the ‘I’iwi there’s really only one bird you can do next.

That’s right, it’s the Kiwi.

But, there are in fact five different species of Kiwi, which all belong to their own order Apterygiformes. So I’ve got to pick one to feature. And I’m going to go with the classic Kiwi, the Northern Brown Kiwi (Apteryn mantelli).

Although it should be noted that the Southern Brown Kiwi’s taxonomical name is Apteryn australis,which tickles me because obviously New Zealand just can’t escape getting confused with Australia, even with their national animal.

Image result for australian kiwi — Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!

To my mind a Kiwi seems like a two footed rat with the bill of an echidna, but hey what do I know?

Their rat like appearance is made extra pronounced by their almost total lack of wings. They’ve evolved down to be nothing more than stubs.

Now, the reason I picked the Northern Brown Kiwi is because of its egg. For while the Ostrich (see Bird of the Week 39) may have the biggest egg, the Kiwi has the biggest egg as a ratio to its body size. As this picture attests.

A normal bird’s egg is around 3-6% of its body weight, the Kiwi’s egg is a staggering 20%. Wooweee!! So why, oh why does the Kiwi do that? Well, with more delicious yoke to sustain them, Kiwi chicks hatch out much more developed than other birds: they’re already fully feathered, more self-sufficient and don’t rely on their parents to feed them. So I guess you win some you lose some. Good on you, Kiwi.

The leading theory as to why their eggs are so large is that the Kiwi was once a big bird and gradually grew smaller over time, while its egg stayed the same size. This would mean the Kiwi was once as big as a Cassowary, and considering its closest (extinct) relative is the Elephant Bird, which stood 3m tall, that’s probably a reasonable assumption.

Keep on foraging you little, two-legged rat … thing.

15/10/2018

Bird 46 – ‘I’iwi

I think the time has come to make a tropical getaway, and what better place to do it than Hawaii?

And wouldn’t you know it, Hawaii has some fun birds. There are a group of birds there known as Honeycreepers, which much like the Finches of the Galapagos Islands, have evolved into a variety of species to fill niches. And the honeycreeper I would like to introduce you to today is the ‘I’iwi (Drepains cocinea).

And it must be said that it is a preposterous bird with a preposterous name – two apostrophes, only four letters, three of which are ‘i’, come on! But it’s got the bright red plumage that just won’t quit. Try not to stare at its nose though, it’s sensitive about it.

The type of niche this creep fills is that of Hummingbird, and it uses that zany bill to drink nectar.

So really the name is a bit deceptive, as it doesn’t creep on honey, it creeps on nectar, but you know, still pretty close, I guess.

They’re actually one of the most common birds on Hawaii, which makes for a nice change from the usual, edge of extinction thing, and … surprise, they are actual vulnerable, I lied. All the usually things, habitat loss etc, but also apparently avian malaria has gotten on the island and the ‘I’iwi doesn’t take to kindly to that.

Really though, they’re pretty fun, and check out all that excellent moss on the picture above, such variety! Clearly the ‘I’iwi knows where it’s at.

Anyway, until next bird.

8/10/2018