Mike in the Wild

Witnessing the seasonal bird migrants is as much a motivation to visit Prescott in the summer as escaping from the Phoenix heat.  Joining me in the cooler area is a variety of birds from the cardinalidae family, probably the most vibrantly colorful of all the flying visitors.   The southern deserts of Arizona are a year-round home to two species in the family: the northern cardinal and the pyrrhuloxia.  Meanwhile the higher elevations of the state welcome at least seven additional species for at least part of the summer.   Last year I identified hepatic tanagers visiting my Prescott cabin's suet feeder for the first time.  They joined five other members of the family - black-headed grosbeaks, western tanagers, blue grosbeaks, summer tanagers, and lazuli buntings - that I also encountered in the area.  Meanwhile, rose-breasted grosbeaks also pass through on their migrations between winter homes in Central America and breeding habitats in the northe...

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 ...

A visit to Watson Woods in Prescott usually brings an exciting surprise or two; on a very few rare occasions, it's a disappointing day.   I've had a lot of luck finding interesting birds in the park over the years, especially colorful migratory species like western tanagers and blue grosbeaks.  And last year I encountered some spectacular year-round residents: a nesting great horned owl with her owlets.  But every once in a while I "strike out," seeing only more commonplace birds - ones I see on EVERY visit - like American robins and violet-green swallows. So I was hopeful to find a tanager or two on Monday's visit, along with maybe some nesting owls.  While I'm happy to find any critter to photograph, I like to have an ambitious objective in mind when I set off for  this riparian preserve along Granite Creek just south of Watson Lake.   My digital pictures are a useful tool for my goals because of their automatic date stamps.  And my na...

Recognizing the call of an individual bird species is an exciting breakthrough in a birder's favorite pastime.  I can't count the number of times the metallic toot of a pair of cardinal's beckoned me from the house into my Phoenix backyard this past winter.  Just last weekend a much less familiar call - more of a quick, double-chortle than a tweet - quickly drew my attention to the other side of my Prescott home's screen door.  There I spied a male summer tanager nibbling at the suet feeder.  But not all sounds associated with birding are as alluring.  Window strikes are often cited as one of the leading causes of bird deaths, and, unfortunately, I've got firsthand experience with this occurrence.  Just two weeks ago, while busily typing on my computer in Phoenix, a thud over my shoulder startled me from my work, reminding me that my own garden and home might be an unwitting killer.   Outside my office window, splayed on the patio, an Abert's ...

It's easy to anthropomorphize animals, assigning human qualities and traits to them.  We often call our dogs sad when they're scolded or our cats happy when they run toward an open can of tuna fish.   But their reactions and motivations are based on their own unique and usually more limited animal emotions.  However when I observed a pair of summer tanagers in my Prescott yard this past weekend, it was hard not to think in terms of a caring human story. This is the first summer I've notice these migratory birds from Mexico in my neighborhood.  Since June I've seen them high in the ponderosa pine trees, the male flashing his bright scarlet suit and the female sporting a drab yellow coat of feathers.  But their appearances, as showy as they were, were brief until this past weekend. One morning I saw a burst of bright red against the dull green of my front yard's alligator juniper tree.  It was the male summer tanager, hopping from branch to branch ...