[EBB Sightings] May day at Jewel Lake

Dear Birders:

Better than dancing around a maypole was walking along the verdant Pack Rat Trail with raindrops pattering on the surrounding leaves.   Twelve of us were prepared for showers, even energized like the birds to the pleasant prospect.

The local singers were in full voice -- a number of Wilson's Warblers and Warbling Vireos -- but it was the fulsome melodies of the Black-headed Grosbeaks that filled the canyon.

New leaves are at their freshest now with nine-bark blooming along with that Hercules of the carrot family, the cow parsnip or more properly, Heracleum lanatum named, according to Alan Kaplan, for the big leafy  envelope bulging with soon-to-emerge flower heads -- the bulge that Alan says resembles Hercules' club.  Along the edge of trail single white star flowers were blooming, held above the surround of their broad, flat leaves.

The oaks were full of Cedar Waxwings which in unison would lift in a swirl of birds numbering in flocks well over a hundred.  Dave Quady spotted Western Tanagers in the same trees confirming that their migration is indeed underway. 

Across the canyon, an Olive-sided Flycatcher sat on top of a tall Sequoia Redwood in full view (a species that seems to prefer the highest perch).

The best sighting had to be seeing the elusive red-capped Dr. Gilbert below us performing a choreography that probably had to do with gathering or releasing warblers from his mist nets which he uses to band the birds that are the subject of his years-long study.

Half way along the trail, a large live oak had fallen taking another tree or two with it opening up a big gap in the forest cover.  The extra light will probably favor some of the sun-loving plants like the elderberries.

The lake was at its best with the green waters dimpled by raindrops.  As we watched a diving Double-breasted Cormorant, a Green Heron flew down the length of the lake and then slipped out of sight into the cattails and rushes which each season grow thicker along the water's edge.

In the willows along the road, an Orange-crowned Warbler sang and a Downy Woodpecker tapped in the same tree which led to a spirited discussion about distinguishing the Downy from the Hairy with similar markings (it's about bill size!)

The only summer resident not yet singing was the beloved Swainson's Thrush whose arias are worth waiting for.  But from a round, liquid call note coming from a thicket, we know it won't be long.  And we patient listeners are rewarded by knowing that the thrush will continue singing after other singers have fallen silent.


-- Phila Rogers