Birds sport every color imaginable and then even more because our feathered friends see ultra-violet light, invisible to our own human eyes. But sometimes it seems that when we observe bird life in live action, it's a lot like watching an old movie, filmed in black and white, detailed only in hues of gray.
Of course there are a few colorful regulars at my Prescott seed and suet feeders, like that scarlet-headed male house finch. And the male lesser goldfinch shines like a lemon drop sugar candy, brightly disproportionate to his diminutive size. But the most notable visitors are the bushtits, titmice, nuthatches and woodpeckers that are either black and white or, excuse my plagiarism, many shades of gray. So it was especially exciting on the last day of August when I discovered some eye-catching birds at Granite Basin Lake Recreation Area, just a few miles away from my home.
The morning actually got off to a very slow start in terms of bird-finds. There were a couple of violet-green swallows distantly swooping over the surprisingly well-filled lake. And I might have identified some chipping sparrows joining the ever-present goldfinches pecking at the wildflowers and grasses bordering the lakeside trails. Of course the squawks and cackles of woodpeckers - acorn and hairy - resonated from the treetops.
But it was deeper in the woods that shelter a seasonal creek that feeds Granite Basin Lake where I'd find my treasure trove of birds. Judging by appearances the collection of finds might have indeed been an actual goldmine: all radiated because of their gilded colors, in various hues of sunny yellow.
Besides the mournful entreaties of the lesser goldfinches, it might have been the soft, pleading mews of a black-headed grosbeak that I initially recognized. It wasn't difficult to identify them by the pale saffron undersides of at least two females or juveniles alighting to the highest tree limbs.
That short, high-pitched gargle: was that a summer tanager call I last heard in early July at my cabin's suet feeder? I followed a flash of yellow through the canopy, to a branch high in a tree, deep behind strata of foliage. That glimmering color, maybe it's even an oriole? An answer would have to wait because there were just so many birds to chase.
Flycatchers dove from some of the ponderosa pine trees' highest naked limbs. A quick view of a photograph identified one as a cordilleran with its flaxen body and teardrop-shaped white eye-ring.
Sparkles of gold entered my sight as two birds fluttered in front of me, zigzagging into the lower bushes, deeper in the woods. They're warblers was my initial and correct guess. I caught up with one, tracking her non-stop flits from branch to stem to leaf as I snapped photos of what I'd later identify as my first MacGillivray's warbler. Yellow-bellied and gray-chested, she was a beauty.
Back in a clearing, I could see more flycatchers in their acrobatic hunting forays. One rather tall specimen, still and erect for an especially long moment, stood out because of his gray vest-like markings. The olive-sided flycatcher was quite distinguished, with a white streak extending shirt-like down his chest to a, yes, creamy cummerbund.
But it was those yellow birds darting every which way high in the pine and ash tree canopy that kept drawing my attention. I couldn't confirm they were orioles; perhaps they were tanagers. But which kind? They were definitely not males as the summer and hepatic are each quite red, as is the crown and face of the western which also has mostly black wings. Perhaps they were females or even juveniles this late in the breeding season.
One shot later showed an especially lemony-faced individual. Yet others were of birds displaying olive highlights. In the end, I'll wager I saw both summer and hepatic female tanagers.
Meanwhile around Prescott, black-eyed susan wildflowers have bloomed eye-popping gold at spots where our precious and lately rare summer rain collects. The especially dry monsoon season might be contributing to the leaves on our local cottonwoods beginning to yellow prematurely this August. At the same time, the needles of my neighborhood's ponderosa pine trees seem to be dropping in piles of straw; doesn't this usually happen in the autumn?
Nonetheless goldfinches continue to brighten our ever-expanding and encroaching mountain community all year-round. And the tanagers, grosbeaks and orioles, all migratory birds, are heading south, adding some final luster to our waning summer sunlight during their precious layovers.
Of course there are a few colorful regulars at my Prescott seed and suet feeders, like that scarlet-headed male house finch. And the male lesser goldfinch shines like a lemon drop sugar candy, brightly disproportionate to his diminutive size. But the most notable visitors are the bushtits, titmice, nuthatches and woodpeckers that are either black and white or, excuse my plagiarism, many shades of gray. So it was especially exciting on the last day of August when I discovered some eye-catching birds at Granite Basin Lake Recreation Area, just a few miles away from my home.
The morning actually got off to a very slow start in terms of bird-finds. There were a couple of violet-green swallows distantly swooping over the surprisingly well-filled lake. And I might have identified some chipping sparrows joining the ever-present goldfinches pecking at the wildflowers and grasses bordering the lakeside trails. Of course the squawks and cackles of woodpeckers - acorn and hairy - resonated from the treetops.
But it was deeper in the woods that shelter a seasonal creek that feeds Granite Basin Lake where I'd find my treasure trove of birds. Judging by appearances the collection of finds might have indeed been an actual goldmine: all radiated because of their gilded colors, in various hues of sunny yellow.
Besides the mournful entreaties of the lesser goldfinches, it might have been the soft, pleading mews of a black-headed grosbeak that I initially recognized. It wasn't difficult to identify them by the pale saffron undersides of at least two females or juveniles alighting to the highest tree limbs.
That short, high-pitched gargle: was that a summer tanager call I last heard in early July at my cabin's suet feeder? I followed a flash of yellow through the canopy, to a branch high in a tree, deep behind strata of foliage. That glimmering color, maybe it's even an oriole? An answer would have to wait because there were just so many birds to chase.
Flycatchers dove from some of the ponderosa pine trees' highest naked limbs. A quick view of a photograph identified one as a cordilleran with its flaxen body and teardrop-shaped white eye-ring.
Sparkles of gold entered my sight as two birds fluttered in front of me, zigzagging into the lower bushes, deeper in the woods. They're warblers was my initial and correct guess. I caught up with one, tracking her non-stop flits from branch to stem to leaf as I snapped photos of what I'd later identify as my first MacGillivray's warbler. Yellow-bellied and gray-chested, she was a beauty.
Back in a clearing, I could see more flycatchers in their acrobatic hunting forays. One rather tall specimen, still and erect for an especially long moment, stood out because of his gray vest-like markings. The olive-sided flycatcher was quite distinguished, with a white streak extending shirt-like down his chest to a, yes, creamy cummerbund.
But it was those yellow birds darting every which way high in the pine and ash tree canopy that kept drawing my attention. I couldn't confirm they were orioles; perhaps they were tanagers. But which kind? They were definitely not males as the summer and hepatic are each quite red, as is the crown and face of the western which also has mostly black wings. Perhaps they were females or even juveniles this late in the breeding season.
One shot later showed an especially lemony-faced individual. Yet others were of birds displaying olive highlights. In the end, I'll wager I saw both summer and hepatic female tanagers.
Meanwhile around Prescott, black-eyed susan wildflowers have bloomed eye-popping gold at spots where our precious and lately rare summer rain collects. The especially dry monsoon season might be contributing to the leaves on our local cottonwoods beginning to yellow prematurely this August. At the same time, the needles of my neighborhood's ponderosa pine trees seem to be dropping in piles of straw; doesn't this usually happen in the autumn?
Nonetheless goldfinches continue to brighten our ever-expanding and encroaching mountain community all year-round. And the tanagers, grosbeaks and orioles, all migratory birds, are heading south, adding some final luster to our waning summer sunlight during their precious layovers.
 |
| MacGillivray's warbler at Granite Basine Lake in Prescott. |
 |
| Black-headed grosbeak at Granite Basin Lake in Prescott. |
 |
| Cordilleran flycatcher at Granite Basin Lake in Prescott. |
 |
| Olive-sided flycatcher at Granite Basin Lake in Prescott. |
 |
| Female tanager, possibly hepatic, at Granite Basin Lake. |
 |
| Female tanager, possibly hepatic, at Granite Basin Lake. |
 |
| Female tanager, possibly summer, at Granite Basin Lake. |
Comments
Post a Comment