Feathered Family

Day 62: I hope that you, dear readers, never tire of bird-in-the-hand, because I certainly won't. It has taken many years to come to this point, first to create enough enticing habitat in my yard to lure the Chickadees over from the brush line across the road, and second, to establish the degree of trust necessary to have them accept food from my hand. These days when I step off the back porch, it's not uncommon to have a Chestnut-backed Chickadee (left) skim my hair or land on my shoulder as I walk out to the feeders. The Black-capped Chickadees (right) are more wary and wait until I'm in position, standing as still as a statue with my pal outstretched. I can maintain the pose up to twenty minutes, as I often did when we were first becoming acquainted, but now neither species is particularly disturbed by slight motion. Talk about your "feathered friends" if you will. I have feathered family.

Snow Birds

Day 136: The term "snow birds" has been a source of confusion for me for many years because when I first heard it, the speaker was referring to the group of people who head south for the winter. Some years later, I heard it applied to the skiers who flock to the slopes and lodges, indeed quite the opposite of the initial definition I had learned. That said, I'm sure you will agree with my definition of "snow birds" upon seeing these images. These four species (Dark-eyed Junco, Spotted Towhee, Steller's Jay and Black-capped Chickadee) are among the most common in my yard when the white stuff is on the ground. And yes, that one curved twig is by far the most popular perch. If the weather forecast can be believed, we're due for more snow every day for the next week. Have fun, you snow birds!

Preferred Branch

Day 15: If they were writing Google reviews, the 'dee-dees, juncoes and Nut would tell you that this is their preferred branch. There's usually a line, occasionally some jostling when someone has lingered too long, and sometimes a particularly rude customer, brash and loud-spoken, shoves everyone out of the way in order to be served first, but outright tiffs are rare because there are no shortages here. Service is prompt, product quality is superior, and almost everyone can find something to their liking. Open hours are from dawn to dusk, and if you're a little birdie, you'll never fly away hungry.

We're Back

Day 32: In the Park, the return of the seasonals in the spring is marked by training sessions in each Division. Here at my house, the winter seasonals have arrived, and yes, training has begun. The returnees aren't quite settled and are still sorting out the procedures in case something has changed since last year, and the newbies are hesitant and reserved, worried about making a mistake. It's up to me, their supervisor, to assure that they have housing if needed and that they are outfitted with their essentials and, as their instructor, to put them at their ease in their new surroundings. At this point, we're laying the groundwork for what promises to be a happy relationship for the next several months.

Feeder Frenzy

 

Day 342: It's a madhouse out there! The hummer feeders out front are being swarmed by beautiful little Anna's, and the feeders (three) in the side yard have a constant stream of Chickadees (both Black-Capped and Chestnut-Backed, Nuthatches and that arrogant little Townsend Chipmunk who simply will NOT go in the live trap no matter what I use for bait. That said, no one seems to mind sharing. 'Dees of both species come together, the Nuthatch (possibly plural) sits side-by-side with either, and if Townsend is in town, the birds take the side opposite him. Sometimes he crawls inside to dine, the birds pecking away at the seeds he scatters out into the tray even as he scrabbles around in the interior. In the calmer moments, the sparrows, towhees, jays and juncos may also visit, although presently, they seem to be content to clean up what falls to the ground. Interim guests may include Red-Winged Blackbirds and Mourning Doves. The photos above were all taken within a ten-minute time frame: top left, Townsend; top right lower, Black-Capped Chickadee and upper, Chestnut-Backed; lower left, Red-Breasted Nuthatch; lower right, Townsend and Nuthatch. Everybody likes black-oil seed, and they're sure there's an unlimited supply at Café Crow.

Pair O' Dees

Day 64: They say you should be careful of what you wish for, but I have no regrets about having wished for chickadees in my yard even though it's made walking out to the feeders rather dangerous. I thought the hummers were bad, zooming around my head, threatening to poke me in the ear or in the eye, needling me with their little beakies in anticipation, but now I have to walk through a veritable cloud of chickadees, wings all a-flutter, chattering "Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" or "Tzick-a-dee-dee!" depending on species. Oh yes, I have two kinds, Black-capped (Poecile atricapillus, left) and Chestnut-backed (Poecile rufescens, right), and probably a few intergrades as well...dozens, DOZENS! of 'dee-dees in the contorted filbert and Japanese maple (not so much the dogwood...wonder why?). Given this auspicious turn of events after a thirty-year void, I suspect it won't be long before the Kinglets show up as well, Golden-crowned and Ruby-crowned groupies who follow the 'dee-dee concert everywhere.

Two Kinds Are Better Than One

Day 43: Two years ago, I was lamenting the perpetual lack of Chickadees of any sort in my yard. Oh, I saw them in the brush line just across the road, but they never came to my feeders. Then in January 2018, I spotted one in the contorted filbert, and it was soon followed by another. I kept my fingers crossed that they were a breeding pair, but with Chickadees, you can't tell. A third showed up somewhat later in the year. All three belonged to the same species: Black-Capped (Poecile atricapillus). They hung around throughout the year, apparently having deemed the habitat suitable for their needs. About two weeks ago, I was standing in my living room looking out the window and a 'dee-dee landed on the shepherd's hook closest to the glass. I did a classic double-take. "That's a chessie!" I said, and just that fast, Poecile rufescens (Chestnut-Backed) took off. Now it seems that consistent availability of choice food (black-oil sunflower seed) has made headlines in the Chickadee Times. I am suddenly besieged by 'dees! At times yesterday, there must have been at least a dozen darting between the feeders and the shrubbery. One chessie allowed me to get within inches of him when I filled the feeders. Species were split more or less equally, and although obviously I can't identify individual birds, I am simply overjoyed to have my very own flock of happy little 'dee-dees "dee-dee-dee-ing" when I step out onto the porch.

Cutie-dee

Day 96: You have to realize that the presence of Black-Capped Chickadees in my yard qualifies as a Really Big Deal, so I hope you don't get tired of seeing them. I certainly don't! It has taken decades to lure them across the road to the contorted filbert, less than 200 feet in human terms but a major expedition for these avian explorers. Far less common species have made farther journeys: Lazuli Buntings, Western Tanagers, high-country Grey Jays down from the Park, out of their customary environs for the occasional visit. Yet here I sat, Chickadeeless for almost thirty years before any small winged soul set toenail across the border dividing My Side from Your Side. I felt like I was living in one of those movie families where the disagreeing occupants draw a line down the middle. I hope they've come to stay!

Noel Of Small Birds

Day 72: During the years when I used to play Celtic harp and perform professionally, I wrote much of my own material. Most of it was instrumental, but occasionally, I'd compose a song.

Noel of Small Birds

All the birds of winter gather in to find a shelter,
Begging for a bit of food and warmth in the cold weather.

From their homes in barren trees, sparrows go, and chickadees.
Finches search for bright berries, flying back with treasure.

From a journey returning laden, they sing merrily.
Song fills the sky, and the snow is so white
And red the rowan tree.

Gifts of Man shall help in need, crumbs of bread and scattered seed.
Thankful small birds all indeed, merry to a feather!

Singing, soaring over the forest, freely they shall fly.
Dance on the wind over moorland and glen
In the sparkling winter sky.

All the birds of winter gather in to find a shelter,
Begging for a bit of food and warmth in the cold weather.

All along the hedgerow gay, birdsong beckons in the day,
From the holly and the bay, and the hoary heather.

Tiny birds take wing to go wassailing. Questing they shall go.
Thicket and bush for a moment are hushed
By the silence of the snow.

Masters of their frosty hall, they announce the minstrel's callm
Pleasure to accord to all, singing all together.

Thus their carol rises unbounded, joyful hearts in flight.
Echoing trills lie like mist on the hills
On a starry winter night.

Four Of A Kind

Day 50: If you're talking Chickadees instead of poker, two pair beats four of a kind. I probably won't know what I'm actually holding until next spring (and perhaps not then), but I suspect there will be at least one full house if I can find suitable nesting boxes for any of the four dee-dees who were flitting around the feeders today. Four! I knew I had two, so it looks like word has gone around that the black-oil sunflower seed magically appears in the trays shortly after sunrise every day. Dee-dees! It took me almost thirty years to entice them from across the road! And if that wasn't enough for one day, shortly after first light, two grouse ("mouse-mice," "grouse-grice" in Crow-specific argot), one rummaging through the leaves beneath the contorted filbert, the other momentarily confused by having gotten into the center of the tangle without considering possible exit routes. I've never had grice in the yard before. I was unable to see them clearly enough to determine species.

Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!

Day 17: Having Chickadees (plural) in my yard is so noteworthy that I would like to reiterate: I have at least two, and although I don't see them every day, they show signs of liking it here. I am reasonably certain they are paired; they were investigating knotholes in the fence together, presumably getting an early look at the housing market. Oh, to have baby 'dee-dees next spring! That said, it remains to be seen how their presence will affect the Pine Siskins. The two species generally avoid each other. Last year, I had both visiting the feeders, Siskins alternating with Chickadees on a fairly regular basis. While I was clearing out garden debris this morning, 'Dee-dee flitted back and forth between Harry Lauder and the hopper filled with sunflower seeds, "dee-dee-dee-ing" at me in a friendly conversation and making me smile.

More Than One!

Day 315: There is cause for great jubilation here today. The Black-Capped Chickadee has found himself a friend! I can't tell if there are more than two, but I have positively observed a second one which stayed sitting in the Japanese maple as the first one flew across my line of vision and perched on Harry Lauder. This year marked the first in thirty that they have come across the road to my yard. One appeared at the feeders for the first time in January of this year, and over the intervening months, he (or she) has become more confident around me, allowing me to walk within 6-10 feet before flying away. He's not much inclined to hold still long enough for me to focus the camera, but I managed to get a few passable snaps this morning. I suspect that their 50-yard migration is a direct reflection of the maturity of the shrubbery; they've finally decided there's enough habitat to set up housekeeping. A landmark day indeed! Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!

Confiding

Day 205: Old birding guides will often refer to Chickadees as "confiding." The word in this context doesn't mean that they're telling you their innermost secrets; rather it refers to their confidence around humans. My little Black-capped friend is becoming more confiding as he/she makes the connection between my activity and food replenishment. In fact, when the feeder ran dry in the evening, Dee-dee perched on the shepherd's-hooks directly outside the living room window and gave me the pointed eye. Obedient as always, I responded by delivering another cupful of small seed mixed with nyger, just enough for a bedtime top-off. I have not seen more than one 'dee in the tree, but I keep hoping that the confidence of one will draw others.

Captured At Last!

Day 115: Today marks the accomplishment of a goal it has taken me DECADES to achieve: I have finally gotten a "field-guide" shot of a Black-Capped Chickadee! Everybody else in the world has chickadees which feed out of their hands. Any I have encountered were more elusive than warblers! Dee-dee (just one!) has been coming to my feeders for at least a month now, gradually gaining the confidence to stay in the contorted filbert when I've gone out to add new seed. Sometimes, he'd let me walk past on my way to the mailbox, letting me know that he was there with a "dee-dee-dee" call. I'd speak to him as a way of assuring him that I wasn't a predator: "Oh, hi, Dee-dee! Did you see the peanut-butter suet I put out for you?" When I first saw him today, he was face-on toward me with a twig in the way of his lower body, but he allowed me to edge around until I was within ten feet of his perch, although he didn't voice his call as I got closer. I'd say we've come to an understanding, and I do hope he spreads the word.

Dee-Dee Documentation

Day 70: It's still not the "field guide" shot I want, but Solstice brought an opportunity to capture several views of my pesky little 'dee-dee friend. As far as I can tell, only one is coming to the feeder, dashing in to grab a few seeds and then returning to the deep interior of the contorted filbert to eat them. That said, the bird is becoming less leery of me and of the light (what pitiful light there is) glinting off the camera lens. It often remains hidden in the filbert, chattering "Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" at me while I'm in the yard. If I'm patient, I can usually spot it among the branches, but it seldom perches in the open. I was lucky to get this shot!

Black-Capped Elusive

Day 53: It's still not the "field guide" photo I'd like it to be, but yesterday I managed to capture this image of the Black-Capped Elusive who has been visiting my feeders for the last couple of days. I am so envious of people who have flocks of gregarious chickadees which seem to be more than willing to sit on their hands. Here, they are flighty and jumpy, and just as you locate one in your viewfinder (mind you, in a tree fifty yards away), by the time your finger has clicked the shutter, your target is gone. I've been trying to sneak a shot through my less-than-spotless living room window glass, but the little bugger takes off if I move the camera even slightly. This photo was taken from my back porch...well, more or less. I was hiding in the kitchen with nothing but the lens sticking out the door. That said, at least I have documentation of Poecile atricapillus in the contorted filbert.

I'm not sure what that means in the long term. Chickadees will not come where Pine Siskins are present, and I generally have Siskins at the feeder. The "dee-dees" live across the road in the brushy band of Ninebark, Chokecherry and Vine Maple behind my mailbox. If they've migrated to the yard, it may mean that the Siskins have moved out. There's no option which allows for both in the same territory.

The Photographer's Bane

Day 100: I have spent a large portion of my photographic energies on trying to capture a "field guide" shot of a Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus). I tease my east-coast friends about getting excited over Bald Eagles because here they are common, but those same east-coasters have Chickadees at their feeders daily, almost hand-tame, and I'd gladly trade half a dozen Eagles for just one tiny 'dee who would hold still long enough for a portrait. This, dear readers, is as close as it gets for me. You can see the field markings, but the pose is far from classic. Poor little guy must have dropped the bud!

Black-capped Chickadees frequently hang out with Ruby-crowned or Golden-crowned Kinglets (or maybe it's the other way around). The Kinglets are usually what catches my attention, "popcorning" among alder and cottonwood branches faster than my eye can follow. Trying to zoom in on them is a hopeless task. They are usually at a distance which makes it hard for me to identify a branch, let alone focus on it. Likewise, the Chickadees pop off just as soon as I spot their perches, and the whole congenial flock, Kinglets and Chickadees alike, seldom populate a site longer than five minutes. That said, I still hope to get that classic shot some day.

Black-Capped Chickadee, Poecile Atricapillus

Day 141: I do envy the people who say, "Oh, the Chickadees are so tame here! They'll come right down and sit on your hand." Any Chickadee I've met during my ramblings in field and forest has been flighty, jumpy, and impossible to photograph, and I've spent hours trying to get a decent shot of one. Today, I had three in a group at Warbler Bridge (Foothills Trail). As soon as my eye fell on this elusive avian quarry among the tangle of limbs, the birds would leap to another branch or disappear into a thicket altogether. They also seem to know how to use the sun to good advantage. As I would maneuver myself into position so that they weren't in silhouette, they'd hop ahead of me again, always keeping the sun in my eyes as I searched for them. I did finally manage a few shots, although they're certainly not field-guide quality. One of these days, you little stinkers...one of these days, I'll catch you when you're not looking!