Slowpoke.

I was scanning the weeds along a trail, looking for ripe blackberries, when an oceanspray bush erupted. Bushtits! Speeding blurs, gone as soon as I saw them. One hung out a few seconds longer.

Bushtit, Psaltriparus minimus, male. (Females have light eyes.)

Just leaving. Blurry, but isn't he cute?

Oceanspray, Holodiscus discolor, gone to seed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Andaba buscando zarzamoras entre las hierbas al lado de mi camino, cuando de un arbusto de rocío oceánico hizo erupción una bandada de Bushtits. Más bien, un borrón veloz, que desapareció en cuanto lo vi. Uno de los pajaritos se detuvo por un segundo ...

1. Psaltriparus minimus, macho. Las hembras tienen ojos claros.
2. Listo para volar.
3. El arbusto, ya produciendo semilla. Holodiscus discolor.

Bushtits vs. squirrels; who will win?

The squirrels stole my suet cage. I had it tied on a branch with good steel wire; it didn't deter them. They were welcome to snack on the suet, but not to take it away, cage and all.

I got another cage, and more suet, and double-wired it. They stole that one.

I found a third torn off the tree, abandoned half-way down the lawn. Empty, of course. They managed to steal that one for good, with its suet refill, a bit later.

I've been looking for a new cage since the weather turned cold. Everywhere, they've been sold out; I think all the local squirrels have been busy.

Finally, two days ago, I found one in the supermarket. This one came with a heavier chain than the previous three; I've hung it from the chain, and added new wire.

A flock of bushtits found the suet by the next morning. I love to watch how they all swoop in, as if blown by the wind, swarm over the cage, hanging from all sides and the bottom for a couple of minutes, and then blow down and away, like little grey leaves.

I count 17 here.

"Wait for me!"

I wonder how long this one will last.

Driving me distracted

I'm working at my desk; movement outside the window distracts me. A swinging, bouncing branch with a pincushion wildly dancing beneath. I grab the camera, plant my elbows on the desk and try to focus.

Bushtits and suet.

The bushtits leave. I go back to work. Again, the branch bounces.

"Glad they left some for me."

"May as well finish it off."

Finally, the branch slows and stops. Maybe now I can get in a focused shot.

Well, yes. Although the subject matter is not quite what I was hoping for.

I need a big mirror over on the evergreens, with a spotlight on the feeder. And another case-lot of suet.

Just when you get your hopes up ...

... winter is back again. I was contemplating the sprouting perennials in my garden this morning, and planning a visit to the nursery for spring blooms. Nothing doing, says the weatherperson, and orders up a winter combo; rain, wind, sleet, finally turning to snow. The worst of it, is that it's not even decent snow; slushy, soggy, drippy stuff, messy to shovel, heavy enough to bend over the little yew that I had just released from its winter bindings, and slippery underfoot, to boot. (Mumble, grumble, whine and mutter; sombody fire that weatherperson!)

On the bright side, the bushtits have discovered my suet cage!

Pincushion.


Isn't he a cutie?

And the varied thrush was back several times today. He (she?) is still very wary; if I so much as get up from my desk, he sees the change in the light and takes off.

A few of my other suet and seed eaters:

A little sparrow.


House finch, in spring duds.


Face-off. "This is my place! My seed bucket! Go away!"


Chickadee. It was so dark by mid-afternoon that I had to use the flash.


First hydrangea leaves. Through my dusty window; it was cold and wet out there.

A few more days until March. Then it will have to be spring, and I'm getting some flowers. Whatever the weather.

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