Newcomers: Birds of Spring

For the past week or so, I've been seeing a couple of birds in my yard that I couldn't identify.   It was hard to get a good look at them, and they looked enough like the sparrows that have been so common this spring that I was getting confused.  As usual, my strategy was to take as many photos as possible and let Cannon sort it out.

Yesterday I finally got around to going through the recent photos and I discovered some surprises.

The first mystery bird turned out to be pretty easy to identify.  She (yes, in this case she is obviously she) posed for some great photos around the feeder.  Her rather nondescript brown coloring had baffled me from a distance, but as soon as I got a good look at her head and beak I was pretty sure I knew who she was.  It helps that I know her mate (at least, a male of her species) has been hanging around quite a bit lately.  He's much more distinctive and I recognized him right away, even though I haven't gotten a really good photo of him yet.  Earlier this year I even got a shot of the couple together on the feeder (or another couple a lot like them).

 

This is the best photo I've managed to get of the male House Finch, but he is immediately recognizable.

So my first mystery bird was a female House Finch.  Even without her boyfriend's flashy colors, she's a handsome bird.

Earlier this spring, I got a picture of a House Finch couple at the feeder.

The second contestant was harder to identify.  I'm a little embarrassed to admit that, at first, I thought he (in this case I have no idea what the gender is) was a Song Sparrow.  They're not quite as common in my neighborhood as House Sparrows, but they've been around this spring.  He has a sparrow-ish shape, and brownish streaking on the breast.  But it's not a Sparrow.  I had to call in help from a naturalist friend to positively identify this one.  Look at the photos and see if you can do better before you read on.

Identifying birds often comes down to details, and as my friend pointed out, the telling clue is in the tail.  "See how one outer tail feather on each side of the tail is white?" He asked. "Can you think of a common backyard bird that you see with this pattern on the tail?"  

Once you see that, it's a dead give-away.  The flashing white tail feathers are so familiar that it's usually all  I need to recognize one of my most loyal feeder birds:  the Dark-eyed Junco.  This little guy is a juvenile, probably a fledgling.  And that makes him the first of the new generation that I've positively identified in my yard this year.

Pretty exciting news.    

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Birdland West readers will be interested in my review of Feathers: The Evolution of a Natural Miracle by Thor Hanson, which is posted now at Books and Beasts.   It's a great book and a must read for all bird lovers.  Check out the review here.

 (Many of the original photographs featured on Birdland West are available for sale as art quality prints.  You can check out all of our offerings at http://AlexWashoe.imagekind.com.  If you see an image here that does not show up on our Imagekind site please contact me directly and I'll let you know about availability.)

The Invaders (Part Two of Three)

(See Part One on European Starlings here)

Male House Sparrow at my feeder.

One morning, early this Spring, I took photos of four or five different birds at my feeders within about an hour.  When I examined the photos later I realized (with a little help from a naturalist friend) that they were all sparrows.  In five photos I had both male and female House Sparrows and one solitary Song Sparrow.  I realized that a winter of observing chickadees, bushtits and hummingbirds had changed my perception of size.  The sparrows -- which had once been my definition of "small bird" -- now looked quite substantial (and the robins that showed up at the same time looked enormous).   

In Seattle, sparrows seemed to be associated closely with supermarkets.  The Safeway across the street from me in Ballard, at my old home, had numerous sparrows living in the eaves of its parking garage and nesting, come Spring, in the small trees along the sidewalk.  The QFC close to my new home in West Seattle has the same arrangement, except they have no garage, so that sparrows are hanging out under the front of the building.  I always stop to look at them on my way in.  

Female House Sparrow at my feeder.

As Spring has progressed (if Spring has progressed -- it has been a very intermittent season so far this year) the House Sparrow couple have become frequent visitors at my feeders.  The male is very handsome, with his dashing brown head stripes and direct gaze.  The female is more nondescript, but I often see the two of them together.  (Or at least, I often see a male and female House Sparrow together -- I can't be absolutely positive they're the same couple every time).  

Song Sparrow

Unlike the Song Sparrow, which is native to North America, the House Sparrow is a transplant.  They are native to most of Europe and Asia.  Among "invasive" birds, only the European Starling and the universal Rock Pigeon are more common -- and Rock Pigeons, which are all the feral descendents of domesticated birds, fall into a different category.  The first known, deliberate release of House Sparrows in North America was in Brooklyn, NY (or possibly in Central Park) in 1851.  By 1900 (according to All About Birds) it had spread as far west as the Rocky Mountains.  Although two subsequent releases, in Salt Lake City and San Francisco in the 1870's surely helped the birds get established.

House Sparrows share another trait with Rock Pigeons, they are fond of human housing, seeming to prefer eaves, attics and nest boxes.  They flourish around us.  They are often credited with evicting native species form nesting areas and are known to aggressively defend their homes from other birds.  The pair in my front yard seem to get along fine with the chickadees and juncos who frequent the feeders, but I have seen them squabble with starlings over the suet.  Both invaders seem to get their fair share (as does the rat who lives under the fence -- but more about him next time).

Male House Sparrow going for suet.

So far, the House Sparrows have been an attractive and un-troublesome addition to life in my yard.  I would guess that they are here because they are nesting nearby, and that we are far enough from their winter flock feeding grounds that we won't have to worry about inundation.  I didn't see a single sparrow here over the winter.  

We pay a lot of attention -- deservedly -- to the endangered and embattled species, and worry a lot about the effect of invasive species on native habitats.  Which we should.  But it seems to me that there is something to be learned, too, from the creatures who thrive best in the world that we have created.  After all, it's the opportunistic, aggressive, highly successful, sometimes destructive, adaptable creatures like Starlings, Song Sparrows, Crows and (yes) rats who are in many ways most like us.

Maybe that's why we're so ambivalent about them.