Bird Cams Around the World

Beth
There actually are no moms or dads. That is why this whole program is happening. So far none except for one pair have reproduced in the wild and the chick made it. (W106 she is called for first chick born in the wild in 2006). All of these babies are being hatched from eggs sent from 5 different captive breeding places. The chicks are having to be taught the migration route by the ultralight planes. After one year they know the way to Florida and will migrate back on their own. Right now there are only about 80 in the eastern population. So far they have not been able to understand why they are not reproducing succesfully. Every year some pairs nest, lay eggs and then leave the nest. This year one pair had hatched a chick but it later disappeared. When you have an extra hour or two (yea right) go back and read all the field journal entries from this year. Heartbreaking and unbelievable how many people spend all this time trying to "save a species"

Sara - Thanks from me too. I'll have to read up also . . . isn't it something that they haven't been able to reproduce on their own?

Beth - Thanks for the really cute picture of the crane chick!

The cranecam has been moved to another pen site where another group of chicks are. Soon they will be putting the two groups together which is why they moved the camera. I haven't looked early enough to see what's happening in the morning. One of the most agressive chicks tried to take on the handler yesterday and they had a confrontation with the chick actually hitting the hanbdler in the head. I thought a funny thing to read about in the field journal. Then a sad entry one of the babies was run over by the ultralight and did not survive.

This is the entry from the field journal.

929 has turned into the typical teenager. He is big for his size and likes to throw his weight around. If he could talk, he would be giving lots of lip. Because he can’t, he uses his beak to communicate his belligerence. He pecks the puppet very aggressively and doesn’t back down when it is raised above his head. (As the chicks work on their hierarchy, the first step is always trying to be taller than the other indicating dominance, thus we do it by raising the puppet above the chick.) He still tries to be tall. When I crowded him, he refused to back down and continued to jab with his beak. I bumped him gently and he stuck out both wings and stomped his feet at me using all the moves he knows at this age. When he finally calmed down, I walked away to check the other chicks.


Because the chicks are still young and short, I must bend over to give each a good look. As I was looking at 922, I felt a sharp blow to my temple, momentarily saw stars and was rocked forward a step. Temporarily confused, I stood up only to see my newly created nemesis, 929, standing tall beside me, challenging me with beak held high.
I towered over him, glowering down through the visor, daring him to try it again. I kept walking at him and he kept backing away, but not down. None too happy with my rebellious teen, I backed him into the fence at which point he had no choice but to turn and walk away from me.
Chalk up one victory for this crane mama. And, as I dizzily write this with the bottle of Advil in my hand, am I ever glad I don’t have real teenagers!

This is from field journal this morning. The birds are not named but numbered. 901 was first born this season, 924 was the 24 born and so forth. There was some talk about naming them but decided not to.
Tonight will be the first night we let cohorts 2 and 3 stay together all night. I am sure everyone of the handlers will have a sleepless night wondering how all the chicks are getting along. Will 924 leave 919 alone? Will 927 get his tail kicked, or will he survive the evening unscathed? Will 914 leave 925 alone while she is roosting? These are all the worries we have and then some.
Yesterday morning, since we didn’t fly, we went to the pen to join up the cohorts. We opened the pen gate and they all eagerly came onto the runway. Before I knew it, all but two of the chicks were airborne flying southbound. I looked after them, marveling at their grace and beauty and hoping like heck they would come back.

Truth be told, I was stunned that they flew. These two groups had never flown together before, and I was impressed by the loose formation. 928, the last chick out of the pen, remained on the ground as did one other bird who’s transmitter band was so dirty we never could tell who it was. Judging by the predominance of white feathers, it had to be one of the older birds; either 913 or 918. Four of the younger chicks returned to the runway while the rest continued their circuit, eventually returning to land all about us.

As we stand on the runway, the chicks turn towards us, initially dropping their legs into a landing position, then cupping their wings as they glide to the ground. They tip back and forth as they stall out their wings, losing lift. Soon they are on the ground, running a step or two before stopping. They slowly walk about , poking and probing in the dirt.

The ground is terribly hard, not surprising considering the lack of rain this last month. They continue probing, occasionally stopping to ruffle their feathers back into place after the flight. They stop and look at us as they pass by, each with varying amounts of dirt on their faces.

Most of the overt aggression has passed, but there is still the stare down or chase. We keep a close eye on our charges, making note of who is chasing whom, and who needs to be calmed down. 919 is the tough guy of the morning and I sidle up next to him, proffering a grape to sooth the savage beast, so to speak. He calms, and I walk away.

929 seems to stalk me. I crouch down to seem less threatening and he starts to peck at my costume. My nemesis seems to have lost his imagined grudge against me and never pecks hard. He pecks at the puppet, at my costume, at my sleeve, my helmet. He looks up at me, dirt all over his face and I fall in love all over again. And just like a real mom, I forget all about how badly my child has acted and wish I could do nothing but hug my dirty faced angel.

Migration was supposed to start Sunday but due to weather especially wind they are still waiting. I think that all except one has been moved to the pen they will leave from hopefully tomorrow. I missed why one is being kept away from the others. When they finally get going there is a camera mounted on one of the ultralights that wil be showing the birds flying behind it. This morning that camera was on for a short time and was showing the hanger and the men putting on their white costumes. Go to wildearth.tv and scroll down to find the whooping camera and read the live chat.. Also you can click on hotspots and see what others have saved. The main website is operationmigration.org which also has a link to the camera and all the field entries that are made daily and a map that charts their progress to Fla if they ever get to go.
I am still trying to paste pictures here but having no luck.. I keep forgeting to get my son to show me how. I will have to really butter him up because he already "knows" I am a bird freak and does not want to encourge me too much. I must warn you watching these cameras I think is more addicting than the falcons well maybe not.

Brids are flying now. Live camera on at new site where one group has landed and another on one of the trikes. The second group will be landing in a soon at new site.