Last week, Madison Audubon staff and Kestrel Nest Box Monitoring volunteers collaborated with the Dane County Humane Society’s Wildlife Center, Sauk County Humane Society, and a couple conscientious citizens in an effort to reunite some displaced American Kestrel nestlings with their parents. Successful rescues of this nature hinge upon the wisdom and experience of licensed wildlife rehabbers—always contact them first if you find sick or injured wildlife. Read the full story below.
Late afternoon on Thursday, June 22, I was starting to wrap up work for the day at Madison Audubon when I got a message from Jackie Sandberg, the wildlife program manager at the DCHS Wildlife Center.
Earlier that day in northern Sauk County, an excavator was tearing down an old structure when he noticed movement and stopped. Three fluffy little American Kestrels were out in the open—their nest, so carefully tucked away in a cavity of the building moments ago, was gone. Out of concern for the young birds, they were transported to the Sauk County Humane Society (SCHS), whose staff connected with the DCHS Wildlife Center.
Luckily, the nestlings (estimated to be 20 days old) appeared to be healthy and in good condition, meaning that their best chance would be to be reunited with their parents. With all the machinery and noise disturbance, the parents hadn’t been spotted by either the excavator or the landowner, though Jackie was hopeful that they would still be in the area. But the nest was destroyed, so someone would need to furnish a new home where the kestrels would be safe.
Remembering our Kestrel Nest Box Monitoring Program, Jackie reached out to program coordinator Brand Smith (who is permitted to hold and band the birds) and me to see if we might be able to help. Serendipitously, we had already been planning to head up to Sauk County early Friday with two volunteers to band nestlings in two other program nest boxes.
A few phone calls later: Jackie had coordinated an overnight stay for the kestrels at SCHS; Brand had coordinated the materials and tools for the nest box with Cal, one of the volunteers; and we got permission from the landowner to put up a nest box. We were all set for our mission.
On Friday morning, I reached out to Rose at SCHS. The young birds were doing well! After banding, we picked them up and made our way north to the property. Once there, we met the excavator, who checked in with us as he was removing a large final stump near the site of the demolished structure, and the landowner, who worked with us to strategize a location for the nest box.
Moments after arriving, volunteers Maddie and Cal were unloading the post hole digger when suddenly...
“BIRD! BIIIIIIRD! BIRD! HURRY! BIIIIIIIIIIRD!”
WHAT!? Brand, Cal, Maddie, and I dropped everything we were holding and raced over to where the excavator was shouting. Sure enough, there was a fourth kestrel nestling, hopping around on the ground near the stump.
After settling her in with her siblings and taking a few deep breaths to bring our collective heart rate back to normal levels, we tackled the task at hand. Maddie expertly dug a three-foot-deep hole using the post hole digger, Cal positioned the post, and Brand used a shovel to fill the hole and secure the post in place. I walked around with my binoculars looking and listening for any sign of the adult kestrels, but… nothing. A Barn Swallow swooping low over a distant field, a cardinal chipping from a tree, a Turkey Vulture overhead.
We consulted with Jackie about the health of the fourth nestling while Brand banded the young ones. With the nest box up and angled toward the most scenic of vistas, it was finally time to put all four young kestrels into their new home, complete with a cozy floor layered with wood chips. They made quite a racket as Brand gently set each one into the nest, whining and chittering. It was a nice chorus of noise intended for their parents.
With the possibility that the adults could have abandoned the area because of all the commotion, we were all a little antsy that we hadn’t seen them, even at a distance. Slowly, we all backed away from the nest. Then, we waited, and we waited, looking for any sign of the parents.
As time passed, the others had to leave, but I stuck around for a little while longer to observe. Armed with my trusty binoculars and even trustier permethrin-treated clothing, I trudged around the perimeter of the property. Oh! A rusty-plumaged bird on the edge of—nope, Brown Thrasher! Gosh, they’re cool though.
As a very last resort, Jackie shared with me a recording of juvenile kestrel calls to play and see if that would entice the parents to make an appearance. Oh! Oh! Nope—that’s definitely a Downy Woodpecker.
Without so much of a hint of the adult kestrels to be found, I was weighing whether or not we’d have to go with Plan B, when FINALLY! A distant bird with sharp wings zooming over the—wait, nope, Mourning Dove.
Feeling discouraged, I checked in with the excavator and landowner. As we were chatting, I saw two birds zing over the field behind them in that way only falcons (and Mourning Doves) do, but this time I saw the right blue and rusty plumages, and I was sure—okay, maybe 97.5% sure, which was about the maximum I could be because they were FAST—those were adult American Kestrels.
Almost magically, Brand called and I shared the news of what I was pretty sure I’d seen. I called Jackie too and provided the landowner’s number so that the Wildlife Center could stay in touch to truly confirm that the parents were returning to the box.
I remember feeling giddy as I drove through the random construction and necessary detours that mark the summer season in Wisconsin. Later that afternoon came a message from Jackie (“OMG!”) accompanied by a photo of an adult kestrel perched, watchfully, on top of the new nest box.
Even though this was just one single nest box, it was also representative of how birds can be an amazing connection between people and places. A humane society and a wildlife center in different counties with an amazing partnership. A landowner who the day before didn’t even know what kestrels were and a program coordinator who is an honest-to-goodness kestrel expert. An excavator with a longtime appreciation of backyard birds and two volunteers passionate about wildlife conservation. And me. I sure was glad to be a part of it.
Some friendly reminders about nests and nestlings
When planning to remove or remodel a structure on your property (house, barn, shed, etc.), please thoroughly review the site for signs of nesting activity first. Even if you cannot see a nest, you might notice bird behaviors (frequently flying to and from a location, perhaps with food or materials) or hear sounds (irritated adults scolding you for coming close, high-pitched sounds of nestlings crying for food) that could signal a nest is nearby.
If you find a nest, wait until after the birds have fledged and nesting season is over, as it is against the law to remove or destroy a nest if there are eggs in it or if young birds depend upon it for survival, under the U.S. Migratory Bird Treaty Act.
Be aware that there are additional protections for nesting sites and breeding grounds of some species, especially if they are endangered or threatened. For example, eagle nests (whether occupied or not) are further protected by the federal Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act and require people to stay back 300 or more feet to avoid disturbing the nest. The Wisconsin DNR has created a guideline with avoidance dates for some species of concern in our state.
As always, if you find a wild creature that you think might be sick or injured, be sure to contact a licensed wildlife rehabber. They will advise you on the best next steps based on the animal’s condition:
Locally, the Dane County Humane Society’s Wildlife Center is an incredible resource you can reach by phone (608-287-3235) or email (wildlife@giveshelter.org)
Visit the Wisconsin DNR Wildlife Rehabilitation Directory to find a rehabber near you
Written by Kaitlin Svabek, Madison Audubon communications coordinator
Cover image: A fuzzy young American Kestrel squawks while being held after banding (photo by Kaitlin Svabek/Madison Audubon).