[EBB Sightings] The Eagle Flies on Monday, and other bird and raptor sightings

I should have known that it was going to be a good day
for raptors. Sitting at my dining room table over
lunch, and looking out at my backyard fence, I was
surprised to see a big bird fly past and alight. I was
even more surprised to see that it was a big Coopers
hawk, who turned around, glared fiercely at me, and
flew off, rounded tail edge and all. Sweet.

Later that day, I took advantage of our glorious
spring weather to walk the Huckleberry Preserve loop.
I checked the Com Towers on Round Top for an eagle
sighting as I excited my car, but there were only
ravens. But it was T-shirt weather, and my spirits
were high as I entered the shady path, never knowing
what I might find.

Since I was curious to see if the Varied Thrush were
still around, I had hoped for a definitive sighting
(or not). But of course, Murphy's Law applies to
birders as well as other groups, and after so many
posing thrushes all winter long, they (if indeed it
was "them") were merely shadows slipping through the
trees. I never got a clear look, or saw the definitive
white and orange triangles on their tails. 
Darn! What good is a new field mark if you can't see
it??!  

The breeding birds were far more cooperative. A
wrentit perched in full view and sang its staccato 
song; I could picture my old friend Howard Cogswell
marking out the beats with his hand as the bird sang.
A handsome spotted (you'll always be rufous-sided to
me) towhee, in fresh breeding plumage, perched
prettily in the sun. He was enjoying the new clearing
created below the upper trail by the EBRPD;
huckleberries and manzanitas were chopped, allowed to
dry out over several years, and recently burned, in
hopes of providing new habitat for the endangered
pallid manzanita.

As I strolled through the chinquapins lining the
trail, I heard a flutter and bustle in the madrones
above. I paused, and searched, but couldn't quite make
the noise-makers out. Their clumsy flutter made me
think of drunken robins. When they finally flushed, I
watched five band tailed pigeons fly to a distant
madrone. Two perched close by each other, and the
other three were scattered in the canopy. Could one of
those birds have been a fledge? Apparently, they only
lay one egg, and it has been an early spring...

Huckleberry in the spring is a treat for the senses.
I walked past the spicily fragrant pink flowering
currant, and tall stalks of bright blue flowering
hounds tongue. Ericaceous flowers fell like snowflakes
along the trail, and milky white milk maids were
scattered along the ground. 
Even the hazelnut tree was in bloom, with its odd,
reduced, reddish single flower borne directly upon a
branch.

I was so captivated by the burgeoning green growth
that I almost missed another accipitor perched ahead
of me along the trail. When I realized what I was
seeing, I stopped abruptly. The bird was bent over in
almost a upside down "U" shape, its head and tail
tucked. It was peering intently at the ground, and
never noticed me. In a moment, it dove down after its
quarry, and that was the last that I saw of it. It was
smallish, so I assume that it was a sharp-shinned
hawk. No time to raise binocs or get much in the way
of field characters, though.

After laying a few baffles along the ground to
inconvenience illegal mountain bikes (along with feral
pigs, the bane of my Huck existence) I headed back to
my car. One last time, I scanned the Com towers.
Bingo! Not one, but two golden eagles were perched
companionably upon a platform. 

Another blessed day in the East Bay hills.

Debbie Viess
Oakland, CA