Sparrows, Sparrows Everywhere

There seems to be a countless number of sparrow species, especially when you consider their entire extended family that also includes many buntings and all the juncos and towhees. More than a dozen varieties live at least part of the year in Arizona where, to name just two, the black-throated sparrow thrives in the deserts and the rufous-crowned sparrow in the mountains.

On a recent Saturday in Prescott I recognized a chipping sparrow pecking through the stones in my front yard. He was joined by a pair of white-crowned sparrows that were less bold and preferred the safety of the canopy of some nearby bushes. Meanwhile at least two dark-eyed juncos flitted through the landscape, occasionally stopping at my seed feeder for snacks. I paused for a moment to enjoy the comings and goings of these mostly ground-hunting cousins.

The juncos are year-round residents in the forests around Prescott. This species has several races and it is the red-backed that I mostly see in the area. But in the winter slate-colored and Oregon forms frequently show up after escaping colder climates in the north.

Chipping sparrows also live year-round in the area. They're a bit more timid than the junco, only occasionally showing up in my feeder, but usually as lone diners. I'm starting to notice their more frequent explorations just several feet from my deck's vantage points.

It might have been the first time I've observed white-crowned sparrows in my Prescott yard. I recall seeing them at a lower elevation, several miles away along the Peavine trail, bordering a grassland habitat. And much further away, they are regular cool weather visitors to my Phoenix neighborhood. These migratory birds breed mostly outside of Arizona, coming to the Grand Canyon State for the winter months.

More recently along the Peavine Trail, just last week in fact, I think I identified my first Brewer's sparrow. Like the white-crowned, he was probably migrating through, headed to warmer climates south. He was a reminder that distinguishing the many sparrow species presents a challenge to even the most seasoned birder. After a careful study of my photographs, I'm pretty sure the black line through his eye did not continue into his lore: the space between his eye and beak that helps differentiate the Brewer's from the chipping.

Just when I thought I'd encountered more than enough sparrows during my long September weekends in Prescott, I found an especially colorful one on Monday. Only a few hours before loading up the car for the hundred mile ride down the hill to Phoenix, I noticed a number of birds in the driveway, just in front of the sedan, scratching through the sandy gravel. Several dashed into the nearby oak trees where I was able to identify a lesser goldfinch and a house finch. A couple of dark-eyed juncos remained on the ground, investigating some nearby rocks. In the crowd a lone bird with a bright cinnamon-colored head stood out.

I quickly rushed into the house to grab my camera, and then, in stocking feet, I walked down the porch stairs and the brick walkway to snap a few zoomed photographs. Soon I discovered the unique visitor was a green-tailed towhee and yet another bird possibly migrating into southern Arizona for the winter. Larger than the sparrows and juncos I've been seeing, he's much less drab with his striking yellow-green tail feathers. While I've observed this bird in the wild before, I think this might be the first time it's happened in Prescott.

After lamenting this month over the recent migrations of colorful grosbeaks and tanagers out of the area, it wasn't long before several sparrows quickly alleviated my despair. For all the birds that come to Arizona to breed in the summer, it seems that just as many (or maybe more?) travel into the state to escape the winter cold outside.