Whether we realize it or not, we all have hidden talents—a special skill or talent we trot out from time to time to amaze and amuse ourselves and others. My college roommate Alisan, an engineer by trade, can juggle just about anything you put in front of her. My friend Lisa can read—and comprehend—really, really fast. And I can make a weird popping noise with my ears.
Our wildlife neighbors have hidden talents too. Did you know, for instance, that certain species of caterpillars are adept at flinging frass–science-speak for insect poop–more than three feet from where they’re perched? (It’s a great way to throw potential predators off track.) Or that beavers are just as good at digging burrows as they are at building lodges and dams?
I was reminded of animals with surprising skills again the other day as I walked toward the entrance of the Pottawatomie Community Center. I heard a faint, high-pitched whistle overhead and looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of a medium-sized, yellow-toned bird darting back and forth, catching insects on the fly.
The bubbly bug-catcher was a cedar waxwing, a local resident known more for its ability to eat prodigious quantities of stationary foods, namely berries, than for its aerial acrobatics. Nonetheless, there it was, feasting on the insect bounty we’ve been blessed with this warm, wet summer.
I remember the first time I saw cedar waxwings eating bugs, along the Menominee River in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. New to birding, I was standing outside our family’s cabin trying out a new pair of binoculars, when I noticed a group of birds flying maybe 20 feet above the water.
As I focused in, I expected to see some familiar insectivores—like maybe swallows. Or phoebes. There was an eastern phoebe nest on the cabin that summer. But, darn it, the birds I was watching bore no resemblance to any bird I knew of that ate insects.
After several minutes of intense peering thru the binocs, coupled with occasional bare-eyed squints, I was ready to admit defeat. But then, wonder of wonders, one of the birds came over and landed in a nearby poplar. With its rounded crest, black mask and distinctive red marks on the wings, even I could recognize that the mystery “flycatchers” were in fact cedar waxwings.
I’ve since learned that insects make up less than a third of the cedar waxwing’s diet, but they’re added right when the birds need them most—in summer, when nutritional demands are high.
Wings, legs and exoskeletons aside, insects are an excellent source of protein and energy-laden healthy fats. If you’re looking for a human comparison—or are considering an insect diet for yourself—1 kilogram of grasshoppers provides the same amount of protein as 10 hot dogs or six Big Macs, minus the artery-clogging grease. They make a perfect food for birds coping with the stress of raising a family—and for the growing family members themselves.
(Just as an aside—hummingbirds do the same thing. Though they’re known for sipping nectar, hummers catch their share of flies, gnats, mosquitoes and moths during their summer stays here. Look for them doing just that along the Riverwalk in Batavia.)
If you happen to find yourself in a particularly bug-rich area this weekend—and, let’s face it, what areas aren’t right now—take a look above and see if you notice any birds catching insects. You may find you have a hidden talent…for identifying cedar waxwings.
Pam Otto is the manager of nature programs and interpretive services for the St. Charles Park District. She can be reached at potto@stcparks.org or 630-513-4346.