Faithful Friends

Day 97: This is a nod to the most faithful of friends, the Dark-Eyed Juncos (Oregon Junco, Junco hyemalis) who come to my feeders every day of the year. They are so reliably present that they fade into the background of my observations with the same facility that their camouflage effectively hides them from view among the greys and browns of Pacific Northwest winter, their chirps so familiar to my ear that I do not notice them beneath the buzz of hummingbirds and harsh jay-chatter. My eye disregards them when a Song or White-Crowned Sparrow lands among their numbers, or is drawn away by the Spotted Towhee's red eye or Grosbeak's yellow flash. They do not come to my hand like the Chickadees, but often scurry about, searching for seeds beside or under my lawn chair in summer, careful to stay out from underfoot, if perhaps only by inches. I do not mean to ignore them, but they are the socks and underwear of my birding wardrobe; essential, yet not often given much consideration in the day's outline. To continue the metaphor, I would feel embarrasingly undressed without them, to be sure. This day is yours, little Juncos. Thank you for being there.