Day 81: A mob of porch parrots showed up a few days ago, cleaned the feeders and left as swiftly as they had arrived. I didn't see them again until this morning when a flock of a dozen, both males and females, appeared within seconds of the time I laid out the seed. They have my feeders marked on their maps, but January visits from these beautiful birds are scarce, and always bring me great pleasure.
"Porch parrot?" I hear you asking. Blame my late husband. He dubbed them "parrots" for their huge beaks, and when Mt. St. Helens blew in 1980, hundreds of them were shifted off their normal flyway and into our yard. When the windowboxes filled with them, the "porch" part of the nickname was a logical extension. Technically, they're Evening Grosbeaks (Coccothraustes vespertinus), a robin-sized bird which some say resembles a Goldfinch on steroids. During mating season, that big beak turns a vivid chartreuse green, making them even more colorful. Their call is a somewhat petulant, inquiring "Churp?" and a sound I recognize as my cue to lay in a few hundred pounds of black-oil sunflower seed to keep them happy during the spring and summer. This bird is a male. The females are greyish-green.
No comments:
Post a Comment