The Return of the Cedar Waxwings

After three long years, cedar waxwings returned to my Phoenix neighborhood, this time giving me plenty of time to photograph them. Exactly like the last time, I spotted the flock of birds in a tree on my street, a couple of houses away from my own. Except on this joyful occasion, they lingered nearby long enough for me to capture some memorable shots.

In mid-February 2020, I noticed the waxwings in a palo verde tree as I approached it in my car. Since the tree hadn't yet burst into its spring blooms, the eight or nine individual birds clearly stood out against the green, spindly branches. And even better, my sunroof was open, affording me an unobstructed view of these gorgeous birds right above my head.

Rather than pause and enjoy the first-time sighting for longer than a moment, forgoing even snapping some shots in zoom mode with my cell phone, I sped the hundred feet down the street to retrieve my camera from inside my house. Seconds later with the heavy Canon swinging from my neck, I could still see the flock from my open garage door.

But as I approached on foot, one by one the birds started flying away. Still fifty feet away, I snapped a shot of the two remaining travelers just in case I only had the one chance. Alas, I did, as those last two waxwings quickly departed.

On at least one occasion since, I've thought I've seen an individual in a backyard tree, but unfortunately never for long enough to definitively confirm the sighting with a camera. Despite my disappointment, cedar waxwings are common visitors to Arizona, with seasonal stays throughout the winter. As I've observed, they gather and travel in large flocks. And they feed on berries, which is exactly how I enjoyed my second sighting on my street last week.

I was finishing a morning run through my neighborhood, walking on my street from the opposite direction than three years ago. In a large mesquite tree just two houses away from mine were perched at least a dozen cedar waxwings, each very still and quiet. They were in sharp contrast to that first flock that vocalized in high-pitched, long whistles, one bird's trill leading into another's, almost in a continuous note. Surprised and overjoyed but without a cell phone camera, I quickly retrieved my ever ready Canon from inside my house.

Yet exactly like the last time, the flock of cedar waxwings flew away in the seconds it took me to return. Undeterred, I scanned the trees in the immediate vicinity. I heard bird calls, including the chatter of starlings, emanating from a densely wooded wash adjacent to a home across the street from my house. High in a palm tree a hundred feet away were a number of birds including some cedar waxwings!

I bushwhacked through some dense bushes to get a better view of my targets. While I was technically on my Biltmore community's common property, the tree and the birds were in my across-the-street neighbor's back yard. Lucky for me my neighbor's house had sat vacant for several months while for sale so I didn't risk a citation for invasion of privacy. But even more fortuitously, the Mexican fan palm had not been pruned in the last year, unlike every other palm tree in my community. As a result, long, dry stalks laden with tiny berry-like fruits hung ripe for the picking by the hungry birds.

For a quarter of an hour I watched a feeding frenzy while at least twenty cedar waxwings partook in a feast. They vanished in sudden bursts as larger starlings arrived, the startled waxwings then reappearing just as quickly moments later. I noticed individual Gila woodpeckers along with a small number of house sparrows and those noisy starlings all join in the March repast.

I was pleased with my photos, capturing high speed shots of the waxwings in flight, appearing to hover in mid-air by the stringy fruit-laden branches. The birds' distinctive features included flattened crests and sharp, white-outlined black masks. Mostly not visible were the waxwings' red wing feather tips, a not uncommon characteristic of some individuals in the species. However I did pick up their yellow tail feather tips. And definitively, their pale-yellow bellies along with their white under-tail feathers identified the birds as cedar waxwings rather than their cousins the Bohemian waxwings. These latter birds are not known to visit my part of Arizona anyway.

Later in the day, when I visited my nearby mailbox, a number of birds were still gorging on the palm fruit. Without a zoom lens, I couldn't tell if the waxwings were still in the crowd, but I did notice cowbirds nearby. And then, the next day, the tree was denuded of food and the migrating visitors were gone.

For several days, as I drove, walked, and ran through my neighborhood, I looked up, scanning any palm trees that might be exploding in fruit. Alas, all the trees were dutifully shorn of dead palm leaves, shoots, and flowers since early last summer when local landscapers attacked the growth with chainsaws. The messy detritus is the bane of homeowners who keep a tidy yard and a clean pool; now it's also a March harbinger for hopeful Phoenix birders.