Day 212: Collectively and colloquially (at least in the argot spoken in my yard), they're Parrots. Not Porch Parrots, just Parrots. "Porch Parrot" is a phrase reserved for Evening Grosbeaks, and if you've been following along for any time, you will have heard the story of how they earned their nickname several times. Nevertheless, the beaks alone are enough to stipulate that Black-headed Grosbeaks (Pheucticus melanocephalus) are also Parrots, but I have never assigned them a further distinction. Yard Parrots, maybe? That seems too bland for such a striking bird. They are seasonal here, as were the Porch Parrots in the dim beginnings, although now a few of the latter stick around all year, recognizing that there's a good thing going in terms of a reliable diet of black-oil sunflower seed even when three feet of snow covers the ground. The Black-heads haven't figured that out yet, but they have learned the trick of coming to the window to glare at me when the feeder goes empty. Even if I'm involved in needlework or on the computer, I can feel that stare on the back of my neck, and yes, I respond accordingly. Currently, the vast majority of birds at my feeders are Evening Grosbeaks and Black-headed Grosbeaks, with a liberal sprinkling of Pine Siskins, Goldfinches and assorted sparrows for spice. But there are others, and tomorrow is Global Big Day. I probably won't have to leave my living room to get a count of at least twenty species.
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