Week 8

The observations for this journal were collected over two different days.

Sunday, November 29^th, 2015

12-1 PM

Weather: Sunny

Temperature: 34°

I was looking forward to bird watching on this cold yet bright and sunny day. I excavated the binoculars buried deep in the drawer, put on some gloves, and head out. I was just going out to bird watch for fun and didn’t intend to use what I saw for my journal, but I got good enough observations and sketches that I later decided to use them.

Upon arrival I was welcomed by the pleasant sound of various chirps and songs, promising a good day of birding. Walking along the path, I heard a bit of chicka dee dee dee dee dee-ing, so I queued up the black-capped chickadee on YouTube and played it on my way towards my site. In the open space near my site, I found a variety of birds, including the chickadees I had called to my location. Resting and foraging for insects beneath and in the canopy of what, if I remember correctly, was a big alder, was a flock of American Robins. There was about 15 of them. The location makes sense, as this is one of the only open spaces in the forest, which robins prefer so they can forage on the ground.

American Robin in flight. The tail forms a trapezoid shape.  

I looked up and to the right to see the figure of a little bird buzzing around a little ways up in the trees. It buzzed up to the tree, then buzzed backwards, then buzzed back to the tree. Given the movement, I first thought hummingbird. Lifting my binocs, I was surprised to not see any shiny green body or long straw-like bill, but a plumper looking figure with a splash of grey and black and—what’s that? The bird buzzed away before I could tell.

It was only when I replayed the chickadee song, bringing the chickadees and other song birds that flock with them out of the foliage, that I got a good look at these birds and could see the distinct yellow patch on its head. Golden-crowned kinglets. A flock of about 6 of them came right up to this bush only about 3 feet in front of me and at eye-level, giving me a very good view of the yellow crown and black eye stripe. I was surprised to see a couple of these—males, I presume—with extremely bright orange crowns. They bounced around in the bush hyperactively.

These golden-crowned kinglets hopped around often, most of the time going upward on a branch as they surveyed it for insects.

While I was looking at the kinglets, I heard a repetitive agitated chirp to my right and turned to the other side of the trail where I located a song sparrow hopping along on the ground. I played the song sparrow song and it got even more agitated, increasing the volume and frequency of its chirps. It started hopping on logs and in bushes near the ground, looking around for the bird that had called. 

Song sparrow making it's high-pitched squeak of irritation. As it hopped, it
looked around for the other song sparrow it believed to be in the forest.

I walked closer to the robins and scared them off, so I tried a little later to call them back by playing the American robin alert call, a very short and agitated squeak. I had little luck. I heard one call back in the distance, and it got a little closer, but it didn’t seem like the whole flock would return so I gave up.

As I was about to conclude my birding session I heard a drumming very near to my right and looked up to see a woodpecker about midway up a tall tree, very visible and relatively close. With my binoculars, I could see some details. It climbed up the tree, pecking and probing at the wood looking for insects. I noticed that it rested its tail on the trunk as it climbed up to stabilize its body, typical of woodpeckers as they have to stay perched on the side of a tree for extended periods of time. Regrettably, I didn’t take notes, but from I recollect there was a small bit of red on the head and a black and white body which appeared to be spotted. When I lowered my binoculars, I saw another woodpecker in an adjacent tree, yet she looked browner and distinctly spotted. I say she because I would assume males would have the contrasting colors (black, white, red) and females would have the more inconspicuous coloring (brown, less contrast.) I thought the male was a hairy woodpecker, but the problem is that the other brown bird doesn’t look like a female hairy woodpecker. I was assuming this was the female counterpart to the black white and red male but after consulting the field guide, that is not the case. It was slightly smaller, so I considered it might be a juvenile, except juvenile hairy woodpeckers are not brown and spotted either. Either these were two different species of woodpeckers sharing close habitat (which seems unlikely—wouldn’t they be territorial?) or I identified the initial woodpecker wrong. I wish I had got a better look at both!

Thoroughly unimpressive sketch of the woodpecker I saw. Drawn from memory afterwards.

 Tuesday, December 1^st, 2015

3:30-4:15 PM

Weather: Overcast, damp, had previously rained but not currently raining

Temperature: 48°

I returned to my observation site to note phenological changes that I didn’t pay much attention to last time and to try my luck at birding in the damp weather. Not much has changed at my site since my last journal: the trees are barren, the ground covered in decomposing leaves (they seem to be decomposing much faster now and are compressing into the forest floor.) As for vegetation, all that seems to be left are ferns, tall Oregon grape, ivy, moss, salmonberry, and evergreen trees such as red cedar and shore pine (mostly saplings, evergreens don’t seem to favor this habitat.)

In this picture, you can see that ferns are some of the only green vegetation that remains this time of year.

In the denser portion of forest all I could find were song sparrows foraging on the ground and a few black-capped chickadees that responded to my calls. A little bored (I wanted to see something I was less familiar with,) I returned to the open area and looked for something else. I spotted another song sparrow foraging on the ground. Past the song-sparrow, I also saw a flicker of something camouflaged in the fallen and decomposing leaves, and when I lifted up my binoculars I saw something I am a little less familiar with, having seen less of them in class. I didn’t have sketching material and couldn’t snap a good picture so I jotted down some quick notes on my phone “black head and chest, brown back, greyish body, white tail feathers, ground forager, similar in size to a song sparrow.” When I later tried to identify it from my field guide, I at first thought it looked a lot like a chestnut-backed chickadee, but then thought about where I saw it foraging and decided that didn’t make much sense as chickadees generally forage in the canopy. Chickadees are also a lot smaller in comparison to the song sparrow. It wasn’t until I looked at the birds at the Burke museum that I realized that the bird I saw was a dark-eyed junco. I found a specimen that looked almost identical to the bird in my memory, and since juncos forage on the ground and are indeed similar in size to song sparrows, this makes sense.

I just realized yesterday that this class has been my only class this quarter to really change my life in that it opened me up to new things I didn't know I enjoyed. I never imagined I'd be into bird watching, but now, I find that when I'm walking around outside, particularly around campus, I'm keen to bird calls and will always take the time to stop, look up and see what's going on. It kind of makes a game out of being outdoors now that I think of it as less of just scenery and more something I can engage in.