After a protracted struggle (it actually snowed on St.
Patrick’s Day at my house!) Spring seems to be gaining the upper hand around
Seattle. The last few days have been
wonderful – and I’ve gone on two long walks with my dogs this week. Good to be out and about again. If you go back and look at my posts from last
year, you might see that I was quite enthusiastic about the prospects of winter
birding. Unfortunately, it didn’t live
up to its promise – not because nature wasn’t cooperating, but because I got
wrapped up in other things and let the winter pass without enough
observation. Those “other things” –
including an emotionally demanding writing project, ending one business and
planning another – were all important.
But I disappointed myself with my unwillingness to brave the cold and
dark in search of birds.
Anna's Hummingbird |
The one bright spot throughout the winter was my hummingbird
feeder. The Anna’s not only stayed all
winter (through snow and storm) but there were more of them here than I’ve ever
seen. One combative little guy staked
out our tree and yard as his territory and defended them bravely, but that
didn’t stop others from making a run at the feeder whenever they could.
A couple of days ago, I was out on my porch with my roommate
and the dogs, enjoying the novelty of sun, when I noticed a hummingbird on the
feeder. It was one of those sights that
have become so common I almost passed over it.
But something didn’t seem right.
My roommate saw it too.
“That doesn’t look like the same hummingbird,” he said.
This hummingbird – obviously a male – was smaller, and his
coloring wasn’t quite right. I ran
inside to get my camera, but by the time I got back he was gone. I’m pretty sure he was the first Rufous
Hummingbird of the new season, back just a little early from his winter in
Mexico. I will be watching for him now,
and hoping to get photos.
“Look for surprises among what you take for granted” seems
to be the theme so far this year. There
is no more ubiquitous bird in my neighborhood than the Black-Capped
Chickadee. I see them all the time, and
as much as I love them, it’s easy sometimes to almost stop seeing them. When I have the camera, I often think, “One
more photo of a chickadee – you have thousands.” Which is true, I do. Still, I’ve found surprises hiding among the
chickadees before. A couple of years
ago, I found Nuthatches in the chickadee flock in my yard. So when I started seeing flashes of brown I
thought that’s what it must be.
But it wasn’t.
Chestnut-Backed Chickadee |
A friend who was visiting watched the feeders with me for a
few minutes. I mentioned the brown
interlopers and suggested there might be nuthatches in the flock again. He wasn’t convinced.
“Those are definitely chickadees,” he said.
Chestnut-Backed Chickadee |
He was right. The
next day I started to get photos, and they were definitely chickadees. Just not Black-Capped Chickadees. For some reason I had the idea that
Chestnut-Backed Chickadees were usually found only in the woods, not around
neighborhoods or urban parks. I was
wrong about that. I asked my naturalist
friend and he assured me it was quite common for them to form mixed flocks with
Black-Capped cousins in the spring and early summer. But I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen them in
my yard before.
Pine Siskin |
The same holds true for the Pine Siskins I wrote about in an earlier post. I’ve seen them around
Seattle, but they’ve never been common in my neighborhood – until this year,
when they’re everywhere. Change, it would
seem, is in the air.
Pine Siskins |
So, encouraged by the new discoveries, I spent a little more
time on the deck this past week, and snapped a lot of photos. I found some familiar, but entertaining
fellows – like this puffed up House Sparrow, and a much shier Song Sparrow. But once again, it was a case of finding the
unexpected among the most familiar. When
I looked through my sparrow photos, I found this.
Do you know who this is?
I had to get help with this ID, but if you said
“Gold-Crowned Sparrow”, you’re right.
It’s a juvenile, born last year and almost ready to molt into his full
adult plumage. There’s no chance at all
that I would have spotted him with my naked eye.
So far this year, I’ve added four species to the yard list
(Gold-Crowned Sparrow, Pine Siskin, Chestnut-Backed Chickadees, and Cooper’s
Hawk) and three to my lifetime list (Snow Goose, Chestnut-Backed Chickadees and
Gold-Crowned Sparrow).
Not a bad start at all.
(And I’ll get back to that hawk very soon.)
###
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I loved this post ... primarily because after moving back to Seattle a couple of years ago, I experience my first winter hummingbirds. Living in California for 20+ years, I was accustomed to keeping the nectar refreshed and cool in the summer. But, I didn't anticipate being up before dawn on freezing mornings, pouring warm nectar before our Anna's male arose from his torpor. Great shot of the feeder and the snow.
ReplyDeleteI have found that bringing the feeders in overnight and putting them out before dawn works pretty well -- and keeping two feeders ready to rotate on the rare, really cold day also helps. I have, however, been scolded by the male who hangs out in our yard for not having the feeder up soon enough on a cold day.
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