Variations on a theme

One of the most common birds we get at the bird feeder are evening grosbeaks.

They're showy, quarrelsome birds. The males are very handsome in a "tuxedo" sort of way.

They show up by the dozens.

But once in a while we get a variation on the grosbeak theme, and welcome a black-headed grosbeak. They're rare visitors. One showed up the other day when it was gray and rainy, and I grabbed a few pix.

Interestingly, except for the thick finch beak, I find black-headed grosbeaks very similar in pattern and coloration to an east-coast bird, the Baltimore oriel. Go figure.

(Here's a Baltimore oriel.)

At any rate, I enjoyed this little guy until he decided to flutter off to parts unknown.

Surest sign of spring

Along with the rest of the country, we've been feeling restless and cooped up. Spring is on its way, and at this stage we get a lot of "teaser" weather: beautiful one day, cold and rainy another, usually with bursts of snow for good measure.

But the spring birds are returning, and I'm documenting them as I see or hear them.

On March 4, I heard the first robin.

On March 6, it was the first killdeer.

On March 13,  the first evening grosbeaks descended en masse on the feeder.

But the surest sign of spring? I hung some laundry outside to dry.

Yes, really. It was a minor thrill to hang the flannel sheets outside rather than draping them over the indoor clothes racks and waiting a day or two for them to dry.

At 58F, it took them all day. But still, it's a promise of things to come.

Yep, spring is on its way.

That must hurt

We have loads of evening grosbeaks at our feeder lately. Despite their name, they're especially active in the early morning, but we get them throughout the day.

Yesterday I noticed one bird sitting funny.

I've seen that position before. The poor thing has a broken leg. That must hurt.

His wings work fine, so at least he has a food source to keep him going.

He could even compete with quail.

But it's hard to watch him struggle.

I don't know if birds can heal from a broken leg in the wild, but at least he won't starve.

Attack of the evening grosbeaks

A few days ago, I saw the first evening grosbeak of the season at the feeder.

"Aww, how cute," I thought, and snapped a picture. I've seen them back at the feeder in groups of three or four since then.

Then this morning I heard a sort of whump and a commotion. I looked out the window to see a huge flock of evening grosbeaks. Yowza!

I've never seen so many at one time. I couldn't even begin to get them all in one photo. I did a hasty count and came up with over three dozen.

Then, woosh! They all flew off in a cloud, and I haven't seen them back in those quantities since. Sheesh, what was all that about?

Attack of the evening grosbeaks. Drama at the bird feeder.

Bird brains

Things have been very busy at the bird feeder lately.

To say the feeder has been very popular all winter is a vast understatement. Most of the time, I see just three species: Oregon juncos, Cassin's finches, and lesser goldfinches.

On the ground beneath the feeder, turkeys will frequently glean fallen seeds. And quail are common both at the feeder and on the ground below. I can always tell when the quail arrive because they land on the deck with a thump. I mean, these guys are fat. Why shouldn't they be? They've been feasting like kings all winter.

In fact, sometimes the quail will literally pile on top each other as they greedily gobble seeds, to the annoyance of the smaller birds who are shouldered out of the way. Bird brains.

So yesterday (Feb. 1), I finally saw a new species: evening grosbeaks.

I hadn't seen these critters since last summer. It was nice to see something a little more flamboyant at the feeder than Oregon juncos.

It's also the first (early) indication that winter may be losing its grip. We'll see.

New bird

We have a new visitor around our place: an evening grosbeak.

I first figured this out a couple days ago when I kept hearing a loud, harsh cheep call. It sounded so much like the loud, single-note distress call of a baby chick that I went outside to see if a chick had gotten out of the coop. But the call was coming from up a large pine tree. I saw a bird flitting around and tried to view it through binoculars, but no luck.

Early this morning, just after dawn, the same call sounded near the barn, so I grabbed the binoculars again and stepped outside.

Into my view came the most beautiful showy bird.

I'd never seen an evening grosbeak before, and they're lots prettier than the rather dull entry in my bird identification book implies.

I snuck into the barn and literally took these photos through a knothole (at maximum zoom) so I wouldn't disturb him (which is why they're blurry when cropped).

Nice having new visitors!