Tag Archive for 'American Robin'

The Tangle of the Seasons

February in the Pacific Northwest is a time when the seasons mingle like dandelion seeds twirling in a gentle breeze. Spring bumps into winter and together they land on the fertile ground of our minds eye. Taking advantage of the season’s wonder, a Ramblin Rose tour heads north to the river flats of the Stillaguamish, Skagit, and Samish. Here the birds and rich land spread their wealth for us to enjoy.

The early morning hours on the Stillaguamish river flats presented us with a vast mixed feeding flock in the scrubby growth of a cut over poplar plantation. This winter morning finds hundreds of these migrants feeding together – American Robins from Canada and Alaska, Dark-eyed Juncos from high altitudes, Lincoln and Fox Sparrows from distant habitats. Today they are frantically feeding and filling the air with their songs, practicing their chorus for a breeding season just moments away. Arriving at Port Susan, we are astonished and delighted to discover four Barn Swallows winging their way around the flat brown lands next to the tidal flats. Harbingers of spring, they have arrived in the rains and cruise through the air undisturbed by the winter landscape surrounding them.

As we wound our way through the farm lands of the Stillaguamish River we marveled at the huge numbers of waterfowl – countless parades of Mallards, Northern Pintail and American Widgeon. Deeper pockets of water revealed Bufflehead and an occasional Common Goldeneye.

Viewing the flooded landscape outside of Stanwood revealed a gathering of a dozen Bald Eagles hunched on the muddy field alongside no less than seventeen Great Blue Herons. The eagles have descended from their wintering grounds on the upper rivers where they had gorged on spawning salmon. Along the deltas, flood plains, and river flats, eagles had gathered for the last hunt before returning to their nesting grounds. The plethora of waterfowl attracted by the open fields would be enough sustenance for the eagles to complete the winter cycle. The Great Blue Herons were taking advantage of the receding winter flood waters to glean easy pickings of fish and voles concentrated in an easy dip bowl.As we watched the predators fill their winter needs in anticipation of spring, we were accompanied by the joyous fussing of competing Marsh Wrens. The wrens were staking out early territories; each male proclaiming his bit of dried grasses and sedges. Despite the limited cover these little brown “mice” were still difficult to see but lovely to listen to.

Arriving on Fir Island, we ventured to the Skagit Game Range. The sun had broken out and revealed a pair of Red-tailed Hawks perched together in courtship. Their bonds formed in anticipation of another nesting season. They were close together and their deep reds and browns blended with the red alder catkins drooping from the bare deciduous branches. High above, early Violet-green Swallows and more Barn Swallows danced across the blue sky. While Yellow-rumped Warblers – our wintering warblers – whitted below them in the barren trees. A Spotted Towhee trilled his first territorial cheeet cheeet song from the thorns of a blackberry bush.

We journeyed further north of the Skagit River where our picnic lunch was taken at the Padilla Bay Nature Reserve where despite the brief sun breaks, the wicked damp wind reminded us that winter clings on. But we enjoy our repast accompanied by several Bald Eagles, one scruffy coyote molting out of its winter coat, and a nearby singing Song Sparrow below a hunting Red-tailed Hawk. After lunch we continued to head north to the rich river flats of the Samish. Pausing at the West 90, we were overwhelmed with the sheer numbers of wintering raptors that abound in this area. Northern Harriers, Rough-legged Hawks, Bald Eagles, Red-tailed Hawks all in evidence throughout this confluence of Puget Sound, the Samish River and the rich delta. Was it 14 Harriers? or 18 Harriers? Certainly the Bald Eagles numbered in the 30s and the rarer Rough-legged Hawk numbers stopped at seven.

Exhausted by the wealth, we stopped at Edison to refresh at a bakery. But even coffee and pastry was no respite from raptors. Easily visible from the bakery’s deck was a Merlin perched high atop a conifer less than a block away. We watched his hunting exploits, scattering Eurasian Collared Doves to and fro as we preyed upon our cookies and brownies.

Before leaving the Samish Flats it would pay to stop and gaze closely at the abundance of Trumpeter Swans that had delighted us throughout all of the day – we listened with delight to their honking cries. Their glorious pristine white silhouetted against the gray sky. Landing by the dozens, the sharp contrast of brilliant new green grasses against the swan’s pale plumage, filled our binoculars with light. We panned the multitudes, enjoying the elegance of the white adults; noting the plumage change that was already occurring for the young of last year. Their drab gray was peppered with sparkling new white adult feathers. As we watched the elegant swans, the sound of Horned Larks twinkled through the air – foretelling of spring adventures in the mountains.

The afternoon was waning, so with one more long look at the winter gift of swans we headed out on to the highway – reaching 45 mph before skidding to an instant stop, for there amongst the next flock of swans was a singular Sand Hill Crane. The gray elegance reflected in the mass of white surrounding it. Was it overwintering with this flock or stopping by on its way north for breeding season?

We had time for one more stop on the way south. We made our way back to the North Fork of the Skagit River on Fir Island. Here, where the saltwater meets the mud of the river, a rich mixture of grasses and cover make an ideal hunting grounds for vole predators. As we exited the vehicle, the song of Western Meadowlarks rained down upon us. A quick scan with the scope revealed over twenty yellow-and-brown beauties feeding in the fields. A few meadowlarks winter in western Washington but their song reminds us of the warmth of their spring and summer homes in eastern Washington.

Climbing the dike as the sun sank low, our attention was captured by the barking of Northern Harriers. The agitated harriers swooped down on Short-eared Owls perched amongst the driftwood. Soon the Short-eared Owls took flight, floating moth-like against the backdrop of a pink and orange sunset reflecting from the fresh snow clad Olympic Mountains. Marsh Wrens continued to sing a spring duet with the Western Meadowlarks as the sky filled with the cacophony of thousands of Snow Geese flying from the fields to their night roost on Puget Sound. It truly had been a day of winter mixed with the hope and signs of spring.

A Moment in Nature

A great cacophony of sound filled the forest. Robins and crows were going mad with alarm and cries of distress. Following the chorus of sound along the North Loop Trail of Discovery Park, I watched in amazement as a Barred Owl flew into a maple, feet from the trail, with a robin grasped in its talons. Convinced that the owl would only be hunting during the day to feed its young I remained stationary, waiting and watching. Surely it would take the prey to its nest. I watched in amazement as it slowly plucked and fed upon this huge meal. Bit by bit it disappeared, till the last foot slid out of sight. Apparently today the meal was meant for the adult only. But still I waited until the owl cleaned its beak against a branch rousted its feathers and settled in for a mid-morning nap.

Meanwhile my attention was being pulled toward tiny begging sounds issuing from the forest on the south side of the trail. Who is so hungry? Following the cries, looking for movement I discovered a nest filled with Hairy Woodpecker young. The adults were working frantically, carrying insects back to the cavity in a snag to stuff the greedy young with essential protein.

All in all a fantastic moment of “wild” in Discovery Park – but the most remarkable thing about the whole experience was watching wave after wave of park visitors streaming by without any inkling of the life and death drama that surrounded them. Families taking a stroll, a hiking group socializing, joggers exercising, and dog walkers enjoying their canine company. All oblivious to the begging of young woodpeckers, waves of Wilson’s Warblers filling the canopy, the Barred Owl’s brunch, the fringecup blooming trailside and the wonder of the natural world surrounding them. It is much like choosing a fine dining establishment to enjoy the ambiance, drink in the fine aroma then not partaking of the excellent cuisine.

Birders as a general rule are very aware people, alert to the sounds and sights around them. Birdwatching lends itself to a heightened sense of awareness. Without this connection to the natural world, we would miss the next life bird, an interesting behavior or the simple beauty of a Western Tanager returning from its winter hiatus. As city dwellers and creatures of a modern lifestyle, our senses have become dulled in order to survive the continual onslaught of sights, sounds and smells of our harried lives. In order to get back in touch with our senses and truly experience the natural world a focused moment will help.

Choose a quiet place in a neighborhood park. Sit and relax on a bench and take a moment just to look. How many different birds will you see and hear? Suddenly realize how many shades of greens are in a forest habitat. Lean down squeeze a Bleeding Heart leaf, then smell the light scent of powdered donuts. Run your hand gently over the bark of a cedar, then contrast its texture with the gnarled rough thick bark of the Douglas fir. Expand your quest to reestablish a natural relationship by choosing a different habitat. The beach at low tide is filled with ample opportunities. Crouch quietly next to a tide pool and as if by magic a new world will appear. The tiny legs of the barnacles are kicking away bringing food into the protective shell. Tidepool sculpins completely camouflaged when still, will begin to swim and reveal their locations. Shells will suddenly become hermit crabs skittering among the rocks. Gently touch an anemone and marvel at their soft fragility. Pet a sea star and discover their rough outer layer.

By awakening your senses through focused effort you will soon discover an open door through which many discoveries will come to you naturally. Then and only then will you be as fortunate as a recent group of birding by ear class participants – together we were alerted to the presence of an Anna’s Hummingbird by her quiet ticking sounds and rapid movements.

Pausing our walk, we watched as she gathered a spider web. A moment later she took the silk back to her tiny camouflaged nest barely five feet over the trail. This natural magic and more awaits you once the senses have been awakened.

Ramblin’ Rose’s First Adventure

Yes! I’ve done it! Oh no what have I done!? Sitting on the side of I-90 stranded with a broken transmission, I realized my decision to launch a new birding business is not looking very good – in fact it is feeling pretty dismal.

For years I have shared my passion for birds and birding by teaching classes and leading tours as a naturalist at Discovery Park. Recently the City of Seattle Park’s Department reorganized the education staff into teams. The team I was assigned focuses on school students from kindergarten to grade 12. No longer will I be providing classes and tours to adults and members of the general public. Many wonderful Discovery Park constituents and members of the public with whom I had shared countless birding experiences had pushed, urged, literally kicked me into starting my own bird touring business. Thus Ramblin’ Rose Birding Adventures was born.

The emotional swings of creating a small business have been wild. But I had successfully filled the first adventure with clients, and now Scott and I were supposed to be winging our way to Eastern Washington for a fam trip. An opportunity to check routes, locate birds, ensure that my first adventure would go smoothly.

But the brand new transmission in my Nissan Pathfinder had other ideas. While winding up I-90 toward Snoqualimie Pass, a shudder and a plume of white smoke suggested an early end to our outing.

Frustrated, angry and impatient while waiting for a long-delayed tow truck, I paced the side of the highway. Scott calmly attempted to console me. But I was having none of it – until… Why, yes! That was a Red-winged Crossbill flying across six lanes of traffic. The unmistakable sound of its turn signal call note drifted down over the din of traffic. Readjusting my attitude and focus, I began fighting through the chaotic noise and rush of traffic to pick up any sounds and sights of life on this freeway.

High above, floating against the green backdrop of the Cascade Mountains was a lonely Raven. Its glossy black wings shimmering in the spring sun. Can it be? – yes, it is the distinct Ziiiiiiiiip of Pine Siskens flocking and feeding amongst the Red Alders. And there just beyond the shoulder near the edge of the evergreen forest were a pair of Robins feeding. They seemed unconcerned and oblivious to the rush of civilization pouring past their habitat.

Scott and I celebrated the joy of discovering life – bird life – in the midst of noise, chaos and car trouble. Perhaps we wouldn’t make the family trip today, but the birds would be there awaiting the arrival of the first Ramblin’ Rose Birding Adventure.

Birding by Ear

Why learn to bird by ear? Birding by ear is essential to all birders, opening an entirely new dimension of understanding and awareness. Learning to recognize birds by their calls and songs allows you to know birds just as you would a friend’s voice across a crowded room or a mother discerning her child’s cry of “MOM” amongst a chorus of “MOMs” on a playground. Birding by ear also opens up a whole new world of recognizing behaviors, keying in on sounds above the head, identifying lurking and hidden birds in the thick of spring growth and separating difficult species from one another.

The high chittering falling down from above reminds you to look up. The sun’s glare is barring any view of field marks. But immediately you recognize the sound of Violet-green Swallows. Spend enough time looking and sure enough they are no longer back lit and their white rump patches become obvious – confirmed!

The excited caw! caw! caw! of a murder of crows – what and why are they so upset? Focus in with your binoculars and a perfectly camouflaged Great Horned Owl pressed against the trunk of a tree comes into view. We would have walked right by without noticing this stunning predator but the crows raucous voices remind us to look.

Many birders are intimidated by learning the many different songs and calls that fill the bird world. But you needn’t be. The language of the bird world can be mastered and translated. There are a vast array of tools to help. CDs, tapes, and iPods will allow you to listen and learn at your leisure. During a long commute, while cleaning house, any time that is convenient for listening to these tools can help. Taking a class from an experienced guide will aide in the mastery of birding by ear.

Developing your own tips, tricks and tools is essential. Personalize your learning. The bubbling song of a Ruby-crowned Kinglet is now the “teeter-totter” bird. The whiney chatter of the Pine Siskens are forever known as Pine Ziiiiipkens! An orange rolling off a table? Orange-crowned Warblers descending trill of course. By placing your own description to the music around us it becomes your own.

Some field guides have excellent descriptions of bird sounds but nothing compares to the original Peterson Guides. Roger Tory Peterson had an incredible knack for translating the language of birds into English. He neatly separates the impossible Flycatchers with simple catch phrases that everyone can learn. Willow Flycatcher says Fitzbew! and the Olive-sided Flycatcher – Quick Three Beers! How fun and easy!

But by far the best way to learn birding by ear is to get outside and go birding. Pick up your binoculars and scope, spend time looking at a bird while it sings. Focus on the gray and orange red bird – does it say Cheeriup Cherrioh as a American Robin – or a monosyllable, discordant whistle of the Varied Thrush. Scan the trees, is it really a robin’s cheery song or a Black-headed Grosbeak or Western Tanager? Auditory cues such as a slurry wolf whistle of the grosbeak or a chibit of the tanager will narrow the identification – the visual contact will confirm the id.

Soon your everyday life will become richer. Now as you are walking across the parking lot to the mall in anticipation of the big spring sale you may be stopped in your tracks by the sweet conceit of the White-crowned Sparrow – “See Me Pretty, Pretty Me!” When you hear someone insisting “Drink your TEA!” an Eastern Towhee is nearby or if you are in a neighborhood on the West Coast, it will be the Bewick’s Wren demanding that you “Drink your TEA”!

Just that quickly your world will become a three dimensional experience with the previously unseen, unnoticed, unidentified popping into auditory view. Time, practice and being outside birding will open an entirely new world.