Hopefully, you will all forgive my lack of being a true birder. That, and perhaps the length.
Having said this here is the 5/6/2020 view from South Conklin road with this year's sightings so far:
The last week of March had some kind of ''Peep'' in the lower pasture. I know it's 'bad form' not to get out there and actually identify which sandpiper it is, but I wasn't in the mood to push away from the fire. They always seem to come through here too early, given the cold days and nasty winds.
At this time of year Linda and I also still have some of the 'winter bunch' coming to the feeders, most notably the Oregon subspecies of Dark-eyed Juncos (f&m).
The rest of the gang like the Red-breasted Nuthatch and the two species of Chickadees: Mountain and Black-capped (f&m) might stay the summer.
Last week saw the junco's head out to what I assume is north to their breeding grounds. Gone for the summer and most likely with other birds I don't watch so closely.
April Fool's Day saw this year's so-called ''invasion'' of White-crowned Sparrows (m&f) making that day much more special. We usually see only one or two a year, but we now must have at least six pairs in the yard most mornings.
The 13th had a Northern Harrier. I'd think it was browner in color (male) than grey (female), floating low over the fields.
15th was the first appearance of hummers here, Calliope Hummingbirds (m), then what I feel is the more aggressive Black-chinned Hummingbirds (m) on the 18th. I'm not that good at the females however, there are now many about. And since then the Rufous Hummingbirds (m) joined the fray at the best spots. Why do they never seem to get along?
Yes, I know, Darwin.
For what it is worth and just as important to me, a sign of spring brought the first garter snake out sunning, and the frogs in the low spots in the vernal creek.
But the snipe Wilson’s Snipe is always a pleasure to hear doing its territorial flight display. A sound quite like no other. Like loons.
- none here -
You're in a special place when you can hear them in the background. This was on the 20th. About the time when the first Turkey Vulture sliding up on the thermals.
Two days later the local pair of Red-tailed Hawks were building their first nest or sometimes more than one, materials are seen hanging from talons below. They always seem to nest on the neighbor's place and not here for unknown reasons, sigh... I find it some sort of missing badge of honor. What more could they want from me?
Perhaps it has to do with the 'more accepting and habituated ' Great Horned Owls GHOW's who frequent the woods all year.
Smart social distancing on the hawks part?
On the 25th. I spotted my first House Wren down in the garden at the start of our yearly tasks, his of stuffing sticks, and whatever into any and all holes available, mine tilling the soil. Busy little fellows are we both.
Somewhere in this time frame Tree Swallows begin the process of flight displays to secure the better of the nesting boxes scattered about.
An odd thing happens to me more than once every year as I'm involved with some other project outdoors; the gardens, working in the outbuildings, any little thing or excuse will do to get me outside. Winter is finishing up and I'm out the door.
While out there, something happens that's very special to me and I look forward to it every year.
In the background, while concentrating at the task at hand, I'm never quite sure when I identify a noise that's significant from all of the others, something familiar from not that long ago. A friend has 'come down the road'' so to speak, and once here, the thought of it makes me smile.
Something that has been going on for ages. The swallows are back! The house wren, the robins, and all others in time. This one and that one. Sometimes their movement will catch my sight, at other times it's their call. That white noise you mildly sense for whatever reason, changes but you're not sure why. Then just as interesting, you start to key in on, sharpening your focus.
They kindly intrude into your life again. The movement of the seasons of the planet.
We're all invited to the dance, and today I wonder, what the song will be tomorrow.
Terry and Linda Van Hoozer
