[EBB Sightings] birds will be birds

The drama of life continues to unfold at Huckleberry
Preserve in the Oakland hills. Yesterday, I finally
saw the Pacific Slope flycatcher that I have been
hearing for the past week or two. I watched him
flycatch for a while, my powerful optics trained on
his tiny form. When he made (once removed) eye contact
with me, I couldn't help but think that he was
thinking "Do you mind?" I dropped the binocs, and left
him in peace.

 While watching the shadows of birds in the bays, I
was lucky enough to spot a furtive Swainson's thrush.
I haven't heard their distinctive song yet this year
(so distinctive, even I, the world's worst ear birder,
can recognize it), but his behavior indicated that he
may well be in the thick of nesting. And since I
rarely come in early morning, he could have been
singing his fool head off for weeks. What's their
arrival dates, anyway?

There was no question that the Stellar's jays were
breeding. Last Friday, I observed a jay nest-building
along the trail. Yesterday, as I stood under a
chinquapin, I kept feeling debris drop on my hat.
Finally looking up, I saw a jay. Typical bad-boy
behavior. Then I noticed one of the jays fluttering
its wings: aha! a fledge! Guess the jays were just
clearing the riff-raff (that would be me) from the
area to protect their kid. Good parents.

While the jays were feeding and protecting their
fledge, the male Wilson's warblers at the trail head
were still singing, posturing and chasing. Their heads
get an almost square aspect when they erect that black
feathering. Until last Saturday, when I took a lovely
walk at Chrissy field with Golden Gate Audubon, I had
never noticed the subtle orange of their foreheads.
Flashy little guys.

Although I heard a call or two from a band tailed
pigeon, I never saw the large flocks that were so
common here in the past several weeks. And other than
a trio of adult red-tailed hawks (what's up with
that?), the raptors were conspicuous by their absence.

Lots to see looking down as well: fringe cups, a bank
of woodland stars, star flowers, doug iris, a lone red
columbine. And banks and banks of pretty, blue
flowered forget-me-knots, smothering the natives in a
blanket of beauty. Bummer.

Debbie Viess
Oakland, CA