Chestnut-backed Chickadee, Poecile Rufescens

Day 218: For years, I was jealous of photographers who captured images of chickadees sitting on peoples' hands, perching on a camera lens, taking seeds daintily from someone's fingers. For that matter, I was jealous of people who could get close to chickadees anywhere, let alone make personal contact. I had chickadees galore in the shrubbery opposite my home, on the other side of the road, but none ever seemed to venture into my yard. I planted bushes and trees to provide better habitat for them, and my efforts were finally rewarded a few years ago when the first Chestnut-backed Chickadees showed up, two of them, and as it turned out, they were a pair. My yard population grew. Then one day, I spotted a Black-capped Chickadee in the contorted filbert. I was overjoyed. After a close approach by one of the Chessies, I decided to hold Chickadee Training to see if I could get one to accept seed from my hand. It happened quicker than I had any right to expect, and soon I had them arguing over who got to sit in my palm, who had to remain on my wrist, and who got to go down inside the canful of seeds under my arm to eat in leisure. But being a scientist, I couldn't help but notice one important thing: the birds who were most comfortable with me were almost all Chessies. The Black-capped 'dees would fly in as if they were going to land on my outstretched hand, but almost invariably decided to retreat to the safety of the filbert. Some would occasionally perch on the feeder beside me, but on the rare times one of them would perch on my palm, the contact lasted only a few seconds. On the flip side, the Chessies would let me walk around while carrying them, and sometimes I'd have to hoist one out of the can if I wanted to go back inside. This raises a question I will probably never be able to answer: Why is one species shy and the other friendly? What pressures could have resulted in such different behaviours in two very similar birds?

Red-breasted Nuthatch, Sitta Canadensis

Day 217: Nut (Red-breasted Nuthatch, Sitta canadensis) surprised me by being one of the earliest birds to show up on Global Big Day. He's usually rather shy and only puts in brief appearances, but in this case, he hung around (quite literally) on the suet feeder for minutes at a time. However, he was inclined to present the typical view of the species more often than not (kindly refer to the lower image), and was not being at all obliging with a portrait pose. During the day, he returned repeatedly, even when I was sitting out in the yard, so eventually I was able to capture an image which portrayed his field markings.

These delightful little creatures are cavity-nesters, and have the peculiar habit of collecting globs of conifer resin to smear around the periphery of their entryway. They have been observed to use bits of tree bark to spread the "spackle," but the purpose of this is unclear. Some think it is to deter larger predatory birds. Others suggest that it serves to prevent insects from entering the nest. Like Chickadees (for which they are sometimes mistaken), they may carry a particularly tough seed to a branch where they can insert it in a crack to be held while the bird pecks it open.

As a footnote to Nut's obliging personal appearance on Big Day, who should show up three days late to the party? The Northern Flicker was at the suet feeder yesterday.

Band-tailed Pigeon, Patagioenas Fasciata

Day 216: If I could, I would say a favourable word about Band-tailed Pigeons (Patagioenas fasciata, syn. Columba fasciata). I would gladly praise their redeeming merits if they had any, but the fact of the matter is that they are my least favourite bird, even surpassing Starlings and Red-winged Blackbirds on the annoyance scale. They are gluttons, cleaning out my bird feeders if my vigilance relaxes for more than three minutes. At this time of year, I spend a sizeable portion of my day rushing at the window, arms flapping, screaming, "Get out of here, you (redacted) pigeons!" This acts only to shift them over onto the power line, so I go out to the kitchen, slide back the door, clap my hands loudly four or five times, sending them off into the trees. By the time I've returned to my chair, two or three of them will invariably be back. They are the largest of North American pigeons, and in my opinion, certainly the most obnoxious.

It's Behind Me, Isn't It?

Day 215: Don't turn around! Don't look! It's behind you! As he felt as the feeder rise like a teeter-totter when a significant weight landed on the far end, this Goldfinch must have thought the monster was catching up to him fast. I've often described Evening Grosbeaks as resembling a much larger version of a Goldfinch, but having the two birds side by side in proximity really points up the size difference. When you can only observe one bird, it is difficult to say, "That one's about the size of a sparrow" or "Big as a Steller's Jay, that one!" In trying to determine whether you're seeing a Raven as opposed to a Crow without the two side by side, an estimate of size is a poor tool because objects at a distance are almost impossible to judge. You need to learn the other identifying features. In the case of Goldfinch vs. Grosbeak, that's fairly easy. The Goldfinch is brighter yellow with very little darker shading on the neck and back. During mating season, Grosbeaks' heavier bills turn chartreuse, and a Goldfinch's dainty beak is pinkish.