In a previous blog, I described how six birds were banded in my backyard so I could track them over time. Bird banding has been done for decades, indicating that it is a practice that truly works for monitoring lifespans and locations of individual birds. But it still seemed to me that being caught in a net, having someone hold you as they extricated your legs and wings from the clinging threads, then putting rings on your legs and sticking you into a container (for weighing) would be a traumatic enough experience for you to decide that this geographical area was not where you wanted to be. Anthropomorphizing the banded birds’ reactions meant that I wouldn’t have been surprised (albeit very disappointed) if I had not seen the six birds again.
My expectation was almost immediately proved wrong, however, confirming that birds do not stay away from sites where they were given their ankle bracelets. Corey, my tail-less gray catbird (Dumetella carolinensis) was the first one I spotted again, the very next day after the banding. He has an aluminum band on one leg and 2 red bands on the other.
Since the bands are such different colors, I decided to name the birds as that is easier to note down for sightings. The gray catbird with an aluminum band (they all have this color as it contains their registration number) and white and purple bands became Camden. The catbird with the lovely yellow and green bands was dubbed Clarissa. All three have been very regular visitors to the feeders, proving that a little discomfort was not enough to dissuade them from visiting the always available buffet of mealworms and other delights.
The catbirds have a fondness for sweets and like both apples and blueberries. Grape jelly is a real treat, for which they will return again and again.
Corey’s return visits have shown how his tail feathers grew in again nicely over time. 
I named the Northern cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) Clancy and I first spotted him again 2 days after the banding. He has not been a regular visitor, however – or I just haven’t caught sight of him among the bevy of other male cardinals that flit around the trees. However, a few days ago he turned up among the apples!
Willow, the Carolina wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus), has been a very infrequent returnee. When he comes, he tries to stay out of sight, choosing the side of the feeder away from me and only lingering a short while in plain sight. At least I know he is ok.
The one bird I have not yet seen is Rusty, the American robin (Turdus migratorius). I’ve been staring at the legs of every robin that hops around the yard but have yet to see one with leg jewelry. Perhaps he was just a stray visitor the day of the banding? I will certainly keep a look-out for him.
My first re-sighting data were entered into the Nestwatch site on 1 June 2015; it will be interesting to see how long I can maintain this input. Clarissa is a very frequent visitor so I think she will be in many entries. Or perhaps she is just busy right now feeding young ones.
In the meantime, I am monitoring two nests for data entry; one for Eastern bluebirds (Sialia sialis), who have babies in a nest box, and one for gray catbirds, who have a nest in the middle of a shrub next to my carport.
The catbird parents are ever so vigilant and call out warnings to me whenever I approach the shrub. They hesitate to go into the shrub with food when I am near, even though those babies must be hungry. I finally got a view of them through the twigs when they were close to fledging. They are now hopping around on twigs in the shrub near the nest. Yesterday, when I came too close, Mama catbird dive-bombed, actually grazing my head!
The parents in both pairs are very diligent about bringing the babies meals, working as a team. One catbird parent seems to be good at collecting a variety of foods, in one case bringing three different insects at once (presumably one for each baby). I will look forward to seeing the young ones out and about and sincerely hope my neighbor’s cat doesn’t get them.
Bird watching is an enjoyable way to spend time; doing it and contributing to scientific data collection is even cooler!
We usually don’t know who gave a bird species its common name and sometimes may scratch our heads wondering how and why someone ended up choosing a particular name. But birders faithfully learn to identify birds with those names, even when they may seem illogical. For example, many people would have chosen to call red-bellied woodpeckers red-headed woodpeckers since the reddish belly feathers are much less obvious than the red on the back of their heads.
My beautiful world 