A book taught me to read. It was published in 1958 and for 62 years it has been my go-to book. Published by the Department of Economic Affairs, Alberta; written by W.R. Salt and A.L. Wilk. Its title is Birds of Alberta. My copy has been with me since 1960. It is now a bit tattered and the cover along the spine is missing. It is on the bookshelf, along with newer editions of The Birds of Alberta. Still, this 1958 edition is my favorite. All the information about birds that you find on this blog come from this book. My thought is that it’s time to introduce the readers of this blog to the birds and critters of all types that reside, pass through or pass over the Ghost Horse Hills.
Thank you.
Richard (aka Pops)
As the crow flies, the church quarter is 1 ¾ miles south of the Ghost Horse Hills.
The SW-17-58-23-West of the 4th meridian -- that's the legal description of what we called our Church Quarter. The Waugh Catholic Church took out four acres on the northeast corner of the quarter section. A half-inch of topsoil covered the surface of the Church Quarter. Beneath that, a heavy layer of bentonite clay reached right down to bedrock. Dad would joke that even a good farmer couldn't raise a disturbance on the Church quarter section. Dad wasn't a good farmer but he never stopped trying to raise a hay crop on that land. In a dry year, even the grass was slow to grow. Even so, if a person knew where to look in the spring, new life abounded.
On the Church yard, many years past, an ambitious parishioner had spread tons of rich black loam over the cemetery plot. What followed was an invasion of pocket gophers. In the process of mining out their horizontal tunnels, they left black mounds of dirt on top of the grass. Every once in a while, they would grab a mouthful of this rich quack grass, drag it into the tunnel and line a nest with it. There they would give birth to their young. Under the steps at the back of the church, ground hogs had dug out deep burrows, created small caverns, lined them with quack grass and birthed their young.
On the top of the post that was part of the fence that separated the church yard from the rest of the quarter, a meadowlark would sing sweet praises to God and his world. At the bottom of the post, in the tall grass, a female lark had used grass to weave a domed nest with a side door. There she sat on her eggs. Out in the hayfield south of the church, using a field stone for cover, momma jackrabbit was raising an only child.
Close to the centre of the Church Quarter was a derelict, broken-down granary. Rock doves (pigeons) used a hole in the roof to gain entry. Inside, they had created a terrible mess. In the spring, these pigeons would bring in a few twigs and sticks to fashion a flat nest on the floor or on a flat plank over the granary door.
There they laid two white eggs and for the next couple of weeks both parents did equal time in incubating them. At the end of the structure, outside, behind a mess of broken boards, a mother porcupine birthed one of her own.
Under the eaves, opposite the door, a pair of kestrels laid their eggs. They were too small to hunt pigeons so they used their aerial skills to capture all sorts of bugs. A small knoll north of the old granary was occupied by a horde of gophers. Their young ran in and out of the dens that their parents had dug out of the hill. After them came the badgers that spent days digging bigger tunnels so that they could capture the gophers. Parent badgers are very protective and jealous of their young. One day, while investigating one of these huge caverns with my brother, we must have gotten too close. It's surprising how fast badgers can run on their short legs.
A spring-time creek cut across the northeast corner of the Church Quarter. In a long-abandoned beaver
pond, there was no end to the life that could be found. Strings of frog eggs spread across the surface; tadpoles were everywhere. In a clump of willows next to the pond, a house wren lectured anyone who came close to her nest. Under a hazelnut bush, a mallard duck sat on eggs.
Along the north boundary of the Church Quarter, a 30-acre grove of scrub poplar trees offered other delights. Crow and magpie nests and paper wasp nests could be found just about everywhere. Here's where our journey on the Church Quarter takes a little bit of a detour. Dad had three rules that were never to be broken. We were never to give Mom any lip; never show up late for breakfast and under no circumstances were we to be late for church.
The quarter section where our family's building site was located was ¾’s of a mile west of the church yard. Every second Sunday from spring to fall, we were expected to attend Mass. On Sunday mornings, my habit was to leave early for church. This allowed me extra time to explore the scrub poplar grove.
On one such Sunday, a climb up a willow to look into an old magpie nest, gave me a surprise. Four big eyes were looking out at me. Two small owls, one coloured grey -- the other red. We stared at each other for several minutes. They made no attempt to fly off. Just then, the bells in the church tower began to chime. It was the last call to Mass! They were a warning to me to hurry up to avoid being late for church. It was my intention to return to the nest after church service but my hasty departure left me with no memory of where the magpie nest was located. Hours were spent searching for the right willow. The colour differences of the two little owls gave away their identity. They were screech owls. There have only ever been three reports of screech owls in all of Alberta and never a report of a pair of nesting screech owls. Such a report would have put a crowning touch to spring and the new
life that could be observed on our Church Quarter.
