"During an expedition to Mexico in the early 20th century, American ornithologist and explorer William Beebe was charmed by the song of the rock-clinging Canyon Wren, describing it as:

A silvery dropping song of eight or ten clear sweet notes, becoming more plaintive as they descend, and ending in several low, ascending trills. The silvery quality is of marvelous depth and purity…it seemed the very essence of the freshness of dawn in the cool bottom of the canyon."

abcbirds.org

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Every day is different. The same location a day apart … hours apart, can hold excitement and perhaps sobering disappointment. A lovely nest we found the day before is gone. The parent perches nearby. The winds carried the nest away.
Or a gate that was open is now locked. A bird seen one day is elusive the next.
Our schedules change. Our priorities change. Our physical capabilities are challenged.

Just for the time we are bird watching, troubles seem to fade.

Having a few photos to capture the moment is not essential but a great way to connect with a community and invite conversation.
We knew about the Indigo Bunting ( 2 down and two from the left) because a flickr friend posted photos. This tree monkey was out there days before a note showed up on LACoBirds. This was a life bird for many of us. We used email and IM to pass the location intelligence and encouragement along.
Birds on the top row are Pacific-slope Flycatcher, Blue Grosbeak ( so pretty he gets represented twice), Say's Phoebe fledglings, Yellow Warbler, and Wrentit.
The second row has the Great Blue Heron, a Rough-winged Swallow, a Northern Mockingbird, and the Pepla-guy (Phainopepla) who is still in Los Liones Canyon. We thought they had left.
The third row has the gorgeous Lazuli Bunting.
This month I almost skipped doing a collage. The muggy June weather zaps my energy and I'd rather be out birding than cursing at a photo processing program. But it was a very fun month with spectacular highlights and punch in the guts lows. The highs, of course, include the Indigo Bunting as well as the Indigo's handsome cousin, the Lazuli. Baby season was a highlight unless you think about the poor Pacific Slope Flycatcher feeding the huge Cowbird baby. We were run out of the area around Wadsworth Theatre, a hummer haven, because we had cameras: “Photograph is verboten!” Oh well. We don't write the rules.
I've been told that Fall migration is already underway.... but I'm not so sure. I think July is going to be very slow but maybe there’ll be a surprise or two.

The fireworks are just about to start. Happy 4th of July.
Fingers crossed that everyone is safe.
Thank you all, my little flickr monkeys. It’s a journey.

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"Whether in the desert or cypress swamp, on the National Mall or on the terrace at the Getty, mockers have adapted surprisingly well to North American cities and suburbs.

This may be due to our landscaping choices: cities' vegetation tends to be more structurally complex than that of neighboring wildlands, adding to the mockers' potential menu of seeds and berries; our profligate use of water boosts the availability of the insect portion of the birds' diet. Mockers often forage on the ground for fallen seeds and ground insects, though they will hunt from perches as well.

Both male and female mockers take part in aggressive nest defense. Mother and father also share in feeding chores, which don't last long: two weeks or less after hatching, baby mockers are about ready to start venturing from their nests. Add that period to the two weeks generally spent laying and incubating eggs, and that means mockingbird parents are on high alert for around a month each year.

The parents can even solicit help from outsiders. Unrelated adult mockers do often help defend other nests, and a persistent alarm call from a besieged mocker can recruit several other adults to the area to harass the stubborn cat, or whatever.

And then, as spring passes into summer, the babies fledge. The adults' blood pressure declines slightly, though mockers never really become unaggressive. An errant hawk or cat may still get The Treatment. Mated couples may part, or they may start the process over again: a pair can raise two or three broods in a breeding season, and go on monogamously to do the same thing next year."
Chris Clarke kcet.org

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Merry Christmas.....was Happy Thanksgiving to all my flickr monkeys....
"If you take a walk in the woods on a summer evening, you may be treated to the ethereal, flute-like song of the hermit thrush, often the only bird still singing at dusk (and the first bird to sing in the morning). In 1882, naturalist Montague Chamberlain described it as a “vesper hymn that flows so gently out upon the hushed air of the gathering twilight.” The hermit thrush, once nicknamed American nightingale, is among North America’s finest songsters; its beautiful song is one of the reasons Vermont chose the hermit thrush as its state bird.

The hermit thrush is one of the first woodland migrants to return to northern New England in spring. If you’re lucky, you may catch a glimpse of this brown bird with a white breast dotted with black and a rusty rump and tail, perched on a log, flicking its tail up and down. ...


Extensive research has been conducted on the hermit thrush’s exquisite song. Analysis of spectrograms (graphs of sound frequencies) has shown that the songs of individual hermit thrushes are quite different. Male thrushes have a repertoire of seven to thirteen song types. No two birds sing the same song. The males sing with variety, never repeating the same song type consecutively. Researchers believe it is the female who has shaped the songs of male hermit thrushes over the eons. Males with certain singing characteristics are chosen to be fathers, and those singing behaviors are perpetuated. The melodies of the hermit thrush follow the same mathematical principles that underlie many musical scales. The males favor harmonic chords similar to those in human music.

Perhaps this is why the song of the hermit thrush is so appealing to us. Wrote naturalist John Burroughs, “Mounting toward the upland again, I pause reverently as the hush and stillness of twilight come upon the woods… And as the hermit thrush’s evening hymn goes up from the deep solitude below me, I experience that serene exaltation of sentiment of which music, literature, and religion are but the faint types and symbols.”

by Susan Shea, a naturalist, writer and conservation consultant who lives in Brookfield, Vermont.

www.nhcf.org

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OK. Not the real Mothman. Not even a hominid. But I needed an eye-catching title for my photo of a bird that is well off his patch.
Firstly, a bigtime thank you to Rebecca Marschall, who found this bird.
"Today I found a Red-Flanked Bluetail on the grounds of the Clark Library in West Adams (2520 Cimarron Street, 90018). I believe this bird (an immature/female type) has actually been at the Clark since December 21, when I only got brief looks and didn't see the bird's tail, so wrote it off as an aberrant Hermit Thrush with a weird white throat." Posted on LACoBirds
Jerry took W9 and me to see the bird a week ago Saturday. I was not surprised to see a sizable flock of polite birdwatchers with the full spectrum of gear, from cell phones to huge prime lenses on cameras I've never heard of.
I typically have to rely on the kindness of strangers to spot the birds. Thankfully a few folks had spotting scopes and were willing to share. I got a brief solid look through a scope at the little fart, er, celebrity sitting high up in a tall tree with dense foliage. We did our best to track the bird over the next few hours. W9 got ID shots while I was in the bathroom.
I did the best I could to console myself. And question myself. I read Dalai Lama quotes and lines from It's a Wonderful Life. What would I say to another birder who missed out?
Today was the same but different. We had a short window of time. My hero, Rebecca, had the grounds opened to birders even though the library was closed for the MLK holiday. I walked ahead and joined a much smaller crowd looking for the bird. Was it seen? Had he left? And I struck up a conversation with a complete stranger. He's stuck in LA because flights back to Boston have been cancelled due to weather. He's not even a birdwatcher. He has white hair and piercing blue eyes. I give him the briefest explanation of bird watching etiquette. Then recommend scanning the crowd as well as the ground and trees. Watch for someone to point or gesture. There's a screaming toddler ... (who brings a crying baby to find a mega-rarity?) I was about to offer my powerbar to the frazzled mother but the baby quieted down.
A loud whisper goes up. Someone points. I do my fastest calm walk and look into the shadows. "There he is" someone says. The crowd murmers in agreement. The one spotting scope is being set in place and all I see is a chubby Hermit Thrush in bad light. "He's right there on the left" and the crowd makes agreeable noises. I don't see it and wherever it is it's not holding still. Someone offers to show me the photo they just took as proof. I dismiss them as politely as I can.
I know at some point the grounds will close. Until then I'll keep my eyes peeled.
A quiet shout goes up. Finally I have something to actually see. And photograph. Ha!

"A usually shy and retiring summer migrant to vast mature taiga forests, especially ancient mossy spruce forests with lots of dead trees." ebird

"Red-flanked Bluetail: Breeds in mixed coniferous forests in Asia, Europe, from Finland across Siberia to Kamchatka and Japan. Winters in Asia, in the Indian Subcontinent, the Himalayas, Taiwan, and Indochina. Breeding range expanding through Finland; rare but increasing vagrant to Europe, mainly to Great Britain. Been a few records in westernmost North America, mostly in western Alaska." whatbird.com

ebird.org/view/checklist/S55571271

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