A flash of yellow, glimpsed through the trees outside our living-room window, brought my partner out to the street. It came from high on the light pole that had been of such interest to flickers and chickadees the day before—this time, though, it wasn’t a feathered worker but the widespread, easily-identifiable-without-a-field-guide Yellow-Vested Utility Crew. Bright and early this Monday morning, they were transferring wires from the old, hole-ridden pole to the fresh new one beside it, then would remove the old pole.
My chickadees! Now what?
The crew finished that day’s work and left. Would the chickadees return, or were they too alarmed by the noise and vibration and tapping of screwdrivers and pliers?
Phew – the next afternoon, Tuesday, the chickadees were back to their diligent excavations. But the drama wasn’t over yet, not by far.
I’m embarrassed to say that the following day, Wednesday, it took me a while to realize that that day’s chickadees continuing the work on nest excavation—
—were not just new birds, but a whole new kind of chickadee. A pair of Chestnut-backed Chickadees had taken over the nest hole since Tuesday: the third species in the span of a few days to study the hole in detail, and to work on remodeling it to their specs.
Did the Black-capped Chickadees decide to abandon this nest hole and look for a place in a quieter neighborhood? What would happen to my new little chickadees when the remaining wires were transferred to the new pole? And worse, when the old pole got removed altogether? Could the chickadee nest be saved from being toppled and tossed into a shredder?
A quick call to Seattle Audubon got me the phone numbers of people to call at the Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife (WDFW’s excellent wildlife biologist Chris Anderson) and Seattle City Light (SCL). As each phone rang, I mentally worked up my argument about why even a daily little bird like a chickadee should be protected just as carefully as “charismatic mesofauna” like owls, osprey, and eagles.
Of course, I had to leave a message in each case. Here we go, I thought, eternal phone tag. But I was astounded when in each case, a live human being called back within about 30 minutes: “Of course we’ll get the work stopped on that pole. Let me get your contact info and I’ll copy you on the emails.”
To my surprise and delight, it turns out that the state and the utility want to help wildlife—even two tiny would-be chickadee parents.
Chickadees aren’t endangered and they sure don’t seem too migratory except between my birdfeeder and the cedar beside it, but they’re on the federal Migratory Bird Treaty Act protected list. Ron Tressler, the wildlife biologist who heads up SCL’s Wildlife Research Grants Program, explained that this means that the WDFW has issued guidelines to help SCL respect all bird nests, not just the big fancy obvious ones:
Leave all nests in place if they do not represent a threat to reliable operations, public safety, or a constitute a nuisance;
Remove nuisance nests only when the nesting season is complete and the nest is inactive
Of course, usually SCL gets called about the immense osprey nests that those birds like to build on top of tempting tree-like objects with a fine view of fish-filled water: a perfect description of a high-voltage powerline tower in the Seattle area.
I had a terrific conversation with Scott Thomsen, SCL’s Senior Strategic Advisor for Communications & Public Affairs, who described what’s involved in protecting ospreys and their kids from electric dangers, and who was justifiably proud of SCL’s quick response to my chickadees. (In fact, he’s written about our chickadees for SCL’s own blog — check it out!)
My initial contact at SCL generously offered to contact the local TV/cable company to alert them to hold off on removing the final cables and pole until after nesting season. Mom and Dad Chestnut-backed Chickadee are safe for the season, hopefully along with many chickadeelets. Blockwatch success!
It’s part of SCL’s stated mission to be good environmental stewards while working to provide cost-effective power so we can cook our food, heat our homes, and write blog posts on computers. Unlike a lot of organizations that like to sound green, I think these folks actually mean it. Half an hour to get back to one random citizen-naturalist wanting to protect a pair of birds who, if they held wings and jumped together on a postage scale, might tip it at one ounce? With an “of course we will”? That’s pretty good.
Thomsen said he thinks this is the first time SCL has gotten a citizen call about chickadees; if we can all pay attention to avian homebuilding on our blocks, maybe it won’t be the last. Little parents everywhere need your