The Case of the Hummingbird Feeder

Every morning, while the coffee is brewing, I stand at the kitchen window to stretch while observing the sky and our backyard. A birdseed box and a hummingbird feeder stand a few feet from our window. Usually two or three mourning doves or a pair of cardinals, or a blue jay will be in the seed box.
This morning something else drew my attention. The hummingbird feeder was on the ground with the false flower perch pulled from the bottle of nectar. We get deer in the yard, and they will go for a lap of nectar, but any number of other animals also enjoy sweets. So, we were unsure what pulled down the bottom of the feeder or unscrewed it from its bottle.

Three nights in a row, even with less nectar in the feeder, the critter came in to feed on our hummingbirds’ food. One morning I looked out the window at 4:00 a.m., and the feeder was still intact. My wife came out a half-hour later and it was down once again. Daybreak seemed to be the time for the culprit to feed. Once again, deer came to mind, since dawn is a favorite time for them to be on the move.

Curiosity and guessing can only last so long, then these twin mind games must eventually give way to knowledge. To satisfy our inquisitiveness, we bought a wildlife camera, or as the trade calls them: a trail camera. We hoped to catch the creature in the act.

The first night, being inexperienced, I used the camera’s default settings, continuous shooting night and day for still images. I placed the camera at about twenty feet away on shepherd poles holding hanging baskets of purple flowers. The following morning, I eagerly viewed the images caught by the wildlife camera. The daytime photos showed bird after bird coming to the seedbox, but the distance was too far and the angle too low for any significant captures. The night images showed two purple frames--nothing. Now, I was uncertain. Was the flash on? If so, did the default use regular flash or infrared? I needed to set the camera myself.

The next night, I moved the camera to fifteen feet and adjusted the angle for a more direct shot of the hummingbird feeder. I set the camera for still images with regular flash for night shots and used the default setting of two minute delay. Next morning, the images I viewed were clear and numerous throughout day and night, but showed nothing other than our house and the feeders. Something was triggering the camera, but it was gone by the time the camera snapped a shot. More adjustments were required.

I reset the camera for night only using video with infrared light and adjusted the delay time to thirty seconds. If this didn’t work, I didn’t know what I would do. At dusk I walked in front of the camera to make sure it was triggered and that the infrared light came on. It did. I anxiously awaited the next morning.

Patience prevailed. The masked bandit was revealed. Through-out the night, the robber of hummingbird nectar made ten appearances on the wildlife video.

 

At first he merely tipped the feeder to pour nectar on the ground that he could slurp up. As the evening wore on, more effort was needed, until at the end, he pulled the bottom off the feeder, climbed the shepherd pole and started licking the bottle like a babe in arms.

 

Once finished, the masked bandit walked off without as much as a tip or a thank you. He was already looking for his next source of desert, but it’s not going to be in our backyard.

Well, the masked bandit turned out to be a fat, healthy looking raccoon. I have imbedded a couple of the videos captured by our backyard wildlife camera. Hope you enjoy watching the raccoon go leisurely about his feeding, with only an occasion stop to listen for a perceived hint of trouble.

Indiana University Marching Hundred

Surfing the web the other night I came across a video of the Indiana University Marching 100 from November 19, 1955. I played clarinet in this band. The game was at Memorial Stadium against IU’s great rival Purdue University, ah yes, I do remember the Golden Girl from Purdue. Anyway, it was quite a treat seeing this video and recalling moments from those days. I knew we were a great marching band, but I never saw how we looked from the stadium, until I saw this video posted on YouTube. My how times have changed.



In 1955, only men played in the Marching Hundred. As I recall there was a first that year in using women as baton twirlers. As a Music Major I was required to be in the band, although I would probably have joined regardless. I liked being part of the activity of the university, and especially playing in the band. I also played in a volunteer pep band for Hoosier basketball games. We had two uniforms: a new one--the one you see in the video, and an older one, with a cool cape, we used for the pep band.

Our entrance into Memorial Stadium can be seen in the video, but not as clearly as I remember. Herald trumpeters lined the top row as the band quick stepped down the aisles onto the playing field. After a spectacular beginning, we maintained a lively pace with dance steps and precise formulations that transformed into pictograms that required dedicated rehearsal. Some of the results can be seen in both the pre-game and half-time shows. There is no sound, but I can still hear the strains of “Indiana, My Indiana.”

Among the memorable moments for me was playing at Ohio State before a crowd of 80,000 people, and at Notre Dame during its glory years. A special moment for me came at Notre Dame as I started marching out on the field. I heard my name called from the stands. Our neighbor from across the street, a high school classmate, was attending ND and his father was a grad. When I turned to the stands, I saw my classmate’s mother and father, smiling and waving. I had great respect for them, and their recognition made me proud.

I enjoyed the Saturday morning preparations on campus. Cool, crisp, Fall days at Indiana University brought excitement to the air as alumni gathered, students were out for a break from studying, Big 10 Football was about to be played, and I knew many of the players on the team. Most of all, I loved being a part of the collegiate atmosphere by playing in the Marching Hundred.