Loaded!

Day 285: "Attention! Attention! Calling all Cedar Waxwings! The feast is on the table!" Both of my Mountain-ash trees are loaded...and I do mean LOADED...with fruit, to the point that I am afraid some of the branches may break under the weight. I don't think I've ever seen as heavy a crop. The Waxwings failed to appear last year (they're intermittent here), which meant that the robins had a banquet, but the trees were not this heavily laden. There's plenty here for everybody this year, if only the Waxwings will notice. What brings them here some years and not others? Are they responding to visual clues like this tree is surely offering? Or do they navigate from waypoint to waypoint with built-in GPS, having marked good food sources during spring migration? What keys them in? Perhaps I should hang out a big neon sign saying, "Waxwings welcome," if this glowing orange invitation doesn't suffice.

Awaiting Waxwings

Day 289: A little over a month ago, I had a solitary juvenile Cedar Waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perch on the shepherd's-hook immediately outside the window. I hope he was taking notes, because the Sitka Mountain-ash berries are beginning to ripen, and there's nothing Cedar Waxwings like better. They (the berries) are in somewhat short supply this year due to bizarrely fluctuating weather in June, 90 one day, nearly freezing the following night, a pattern which played hob with many of my plants including the hardy kiwis. Nevertheless, there are enough mountain-ash berries on my two trees to keep a small flock of Waxwings happy for a day or two, and the ones they don't eat will be gobbled up by migrating robins. Both species of bird like the fruit a bit past its sell-by date when the pith begins to get somewhat winy. I'm not expecting Waxwings for two or three more weeks, but I hope that solo visitor carried the message home.

Waiting For Waxwings

Day 291: Many plants and animals and undergoing phenologic shifts due to the changing climate, and because some are drifting toward earlier seasons and others to later ones, this can be critical. We are seeing wildflower blooms before the arrival of species-specific pollinators, with the consequence that the wildflower species do not set seed and the pollinators go hungry if they cannot adapt to other food sources (and many are not biologically equipped to do so). Another glaring example of radical phenologic divergence is taking place right in my own yard. For the last several years, the fruits on my Sitka Mountain-ash (Sorbus sitchensis) have been ripening earlier and earlier. Now almost a month ahead of its original period, the fruit is colouring while the Cedar Waxwings (Bombycilla cedrorum) are still far to the north where food is plentiful. At the same time, the Waxwings have been arriving here later and later, and last year, the berries had already begun to fall from the Mountain-ash before they showed up in late October. This native tree is one of their primary food sources during the autumn migration. If the berries are gone when the Waxwings arrive, many will not survive their southward journey. In the long term, this may lead to a change in the Waxwings' range, extending it northward and reducing it to the south. However, the operative word in the last sentence is "may." If the Waxwings and Sitka Mountain-ash fail to perform in parallel, one or both may not survive as species.

Where Have All The Berries Gone?

Day 14: And just that quick, there they were! Had I not looked up at the precise moment I did, I would have assumed that the robins had cleaned the tree, but when I raised my eyes from my needlework, I saw the distinctive Zorro mask. "THEY'RE HERE!!!" I shouted exultantly. "THE WAXWINGS ARE HERE!!!" Quite literally, within five minutes, they had stripped the tree of every berry they deemed ripe enough to consume, leaving roughly 10% for the robins who accordingly polished off most of the remainder as well as those on the ground. And then, the Waxwings simply disappeared, their work here done for the season. That said, the robins had gobbled all of the berries from the smaller tree prior to the occasion and quite a few from the larger one (a nursery cultivar which ripens a week or so later), leaving some of the Waxwings wondering where their food source had gone. I can only hope they found enough to carry them through the next leg of their journey.

In The Absence Of Waxwings

Day 13: Not a single Cedar Waxwing has come to my yard this fall, nor have they shown up in Cornell's Birdcast migration data for my county. They passed through in the spring, so I can only assume that the recent abundance of wildfire smoke has directed them to another route. That said, my Sitka Mountain-ash trees were laden with berries, and some had begun to drop onto my gravel driveway. Raking leaves out of gravel is one thing, messy berries quite another. I wondered what I was going to do without my clean-up crew. I needn't have worried. A flock of American Robins (Turdus migratorius) cleaned one tree in a matter of days and are now working diligently on the second. They are even foraging deep in the junipers for the ripest berries. Boozy birdies, some of them seem a little shaky on their pins for having overindulged on those which have begun to ferment.

Waiting For Waxwings

Day 328: The vigil has begun. At some point in the next few weeks, the Cedar Waxwings should be making their fly-over and will undoubtedly stop for lunch when they spy such a lavish spread of Sitka Mountain-ash berries on the two trees in my yard. One tree is a transplanted native, the other (this one) a commercial cultivar. Other than the native being somewhat smaller because it is younger, both trees produce prodigious amounts of berries, and if it wasn't for those dear Waxwings being on the job, my driveway would be a sticky mess. Trust me, I know. One year, the Waxwings passed over without stopping. When the berries dropped, you couldn't see gravel under the boughs. This is the price we sometimes are asked to pay when we create gardens to attract birds, bees and other critters. Sometimes they don't show up, and then we are saddled with clean-up duties. But for the joy that those Waxwings bring me for the few short days they are here, I'm willing to bucket out berries on the years they miss. It doesn't happen often. My trees are on their map.

White-tailed Robin

Day 353: For the first time ever, I have observed a White-tailed Robin (Turdus albobuttus) in my yard. Of course, I'm pulling your leg a little here. I suspect that this American Robin is showing evidence of age or injury, as opposed to true leucism which arises due to defects in pigment cells, although that's also a possibility. That said, I have noticed more birds across several species this year which exhibit this trait, and generally in tailfeathers or on the top of the head. One notable exception to that was a crow I observed in early spring with a wide white patch on one wing. The other crows regarded it as a social pariah and drove it away. This Robin has a few white flecks on its crown.

Robin Whitebutt showed up with dozens of his relatives and a flock of Cedar Waxwings who set to work stripping my two Mountain-ash trees of berries. The Waxwings showed a marked preference for the native tree and left as soon as they'd polished it off, leaving the nursery cultivar for the less discriminating robins. The robins returned to finish the job the following day, and it was fun to watch them fluttering like hummingbirds while trying to get a fruit loose from the cluster. By the time evening came, even the berries which had dropped to the ground had been gobbled up, and less than a dozen still hung on the tree, apparently too firmly attached for the birds to pull off. Ordinarily, this is a process which occurs over 4-7 days, with Waxwings present most of the time. In this case, the harvest was done and dusted in less than 36 hours, and Whitebutt left with a full tummy.

Calling All Waxwings!

Day 291: The table is set, and I am expecting company. Any day now, a Cedar Waxwing will notice that the Sitka Mountain-ash berries have turned orange. Another bird will follow that one, and another and another, and easily within the space of five days, the tree will be stripped bare. It was precisely for this reason that I planted the tree: to provide a feast for guests who come to stay for a fleeting few days each autumn. To be sure, they'll leave behind a mess in my driveway, but the trade-off is worth it to see their soft, smooth colours and bold black masks where they perch among the foliage, the illusion of light and shadow artfully portrayed by their feathers. Come one, come all! I'm waiting for you, Waxwings!

Wonderful Waxwings

Day 278: A seasonal delight, the Cedar Waxwings returned to my yard a few days ago and have been busily de-bugging between the weeds which pass for my lawn. Yesterday evening, a group of four birds took turns hunting or perching on the fence, so while fending off mosquitoes with one hand, I managed to capture a digital record with the other.

Bombycilla cedrorum presents such smoothness of body colour that it is difficult to distinguish feather texture even when seen at close range. The transition between its milky-tea brown head and yellowish flanks occurs so smoothly that it fools the eye. However, Cedar Waxwings' distinctive black mask augmented by a thin white line around the edge is striking, and the tail is marked by a yellow band across the tip. The wings are unpatterned except for a frost of white on the tertial feathers and the waxy red "drops" which are sometimes visible on the tips of the secondaries. This feature is characteristic of the species and gives it its common name. It is believed that this secretion is a concentration of the pigments contained in the red berries preferred by the birds (mountain ash, honeysuckle, dogwood, etc.), a factor which may also influence the depth of colour found at the tips of the tail-feathers. Waxwings also consume bugs, buds and blossoms, but their diet is largely fruit.

Hanging Out

Day 240: Ohop Valley is an excellent locale for birdwatching, and although I'd stopped by in the hopes of catching a snapshot of a Yellowthroat, it was the Cedar Waxwings (Bombycilla cedrorum) who stole the show. Their colors are clear, breasts and flanks unmarked by any of the flecks or speckles which camouflage other species, black facial masks outlined with white, and tailfeathers "dipped in yellow paint." A keen-eyed observer may be able to make out bright red, waxy drops on the tips of the secondary flight feathers, the physical feature which gives these birds their name. Cedar Waxwings are not related to jays as some people think, although their heads are similarly crested. They are a very gregarious species, often grouping in large flocks when feeding. A hundred Cedar Waxwings in a chokecherry tree is a sight to behold!