Christmas cheer

And here we are: it's Christmas again.

Warm Christmas greetings.

A personal note: I cross-stitched this cedar waxwing (from a kit) almost 50 years ago, while I convalesced from an illness at a difficult time. The little bird has always represented, to me, healing and hope for better times. In this spirit, I offer it at the end of this difficult year of 2021.

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Y estamos otra vez en la Navidad.

Deseándoles tranquilidad y gozo en esta temporada.

Una nota personal: hice este ampelis en punto de cruz (de un kit) hace casi 50 años, mientras convalescía después de una enfermedad y en una época de la vida difícil. El pajarito siempre ha representado para mi, recuperación y esperanza de tiempos mejores. En este espíritu lo ofrezco al final de este año 2021, tan desalientador.

Cedar on cedar

I'm spending a few days mainly on the roads and in the bush, exploring the Island with family. This was taken at Strathcona Park Lodge, on Upper Campbell Lake, where we stopped for lunch. (Delicious!)

Cedar waxwing (look closely), on cedar.

We're going to Quadra Island to look for a sasquatch tomorrow. If we're not eaten, there will be photos.

Counting backyard birds

More from the "when I get a round tuit" files; these are from 'way back in 2009.

Cedar waxwings in budding magnolia tree, Strathcona, Nov. 2013

I posted the original of this photo, back then, but I was not happy with it. I had taken it with a point-and-shoot, from a distance, against the light, on a dull, grey day, and tried to fix it with free photo-processing software. I gave it another try tonight, with better software and a clearer screen.

That day in 2009, the centre of Strathcona (almost downtown Vancouver) was alive with flocks of crows, sparrows, and cedar waxwings; crows on the rooftops, sparrows in the hedges, and all the treetops sporting their flashes of yellow waxwing breasts.

Tree over MacLean Park. With waxwings.

I checked back: I've seen a flock of waxwings at the Centennial Park duck pond, in 2011, and solitary birds several times at the Reifel Island bird sanctuary, the last one in August of 2012. Since then, not one.

It's a pattern. We used to have families of chickadees at my door, emptying the feeders almost daily, chattering at me as I tried to do a bit of weeding. This last year, there were never more than half a dozen at Laurie's feeder, none at mine.

A busy, mixed flock of juncos, towhees, chickadees, and assorted sparrows ate in my free restaurant every day for years. Last year, I was happy to see one or two juncos.

I saw one varied thrush this summer. No flickers. No goldfinches. No house finches. One Steller's jay. One wren, three whole times. No golden-crowned sparrows. No bushtits. No nuthatches at my feeder; one did turn up at Laurie's feeder a few times.

I've been wondering what caused this disappearance. Pollution? Plastics? More and more buildings going up; noise and smoke and smells? Pesticides; fewer insects (yes, I've noticed that, too) mean less food for hungry young birds. Climate shift? All those co-ordinated schedules of insect and bird lifestyles being offset?

I don't know. But I definitely can see the results.

Is it just Vancouver area? The Fraser Valley? The Lower Mainland? Maybe. There are more birds on the water and the beaches here in Campbell River than there have been in Boundary Bay for some years. And I'm hearing sparrows twittering in hedges as I pass.

Two days ago, I hung out a suet cage for the chickadees. I had only seen one chickadee here, standing on a tree on the front lawn. Maybe he'd notice the feeder next visit.

And yesterday, I looked out, and there was a whole flock of bushtits working on that suet! Yay!

Tomorrow, I'll put out sunflower seeds, too.

Berry red

It's berry time! The salmonberries and thimbleberries are ripening; I tasted the first orange salmonberries of the season last week. Wild strawberries are hiding modestly in the grass. The blackberries are still green, but they'll be red and then black any day now. And along the roadside near Centennial Beach, thickets of red elderberry bushes droop under their heavy crop of tiny, scarlet berries. I've never eaten these, although the BC native peoples did. But when I had chickens, they would come running, squawking excitedly, whenever they saw me coming with an armful. It was their favourite food.

Cedar waxwings love them, too. At the Centennial Beach duck pond, a flock of waxwings has replaced the redwing blackbirds that nested in the reeds earlier. Berry heaven starts just beyond the parking lot, and the protein that enriches their summer diet hovers over the pond on dragonfly wings, with the waxwings in pursuit, swooping rather like slow swallows. And there is that handy dead willow to perch on.

Adult cedar waxwing, with the crest raised.

Back view. Yellow belly and yellow tip of the tail feathers.

Why are they called Cedar waxwings? First, because they eat cedar berries in winter. And waxwing? Look:

What's that red stuff?

On some birds, the tips of the wing feathers, mostly secondaries, secrete a brilliant red wax from the feather shafts. The older waxwings produce more, as well as having more yellow on the tip of the tail. If you enlarge the photo above, you can see a hint of red wax on the tail feathers, too; this is less common.

The tips protrude beyond the feathery part of the wing. This bird has seven tips on each wing (see it full size); this is the average, but they may have as many as nine.

Bird Vancouver has a good photo of the wing tips, here: scroll down. And the Cornell Lab has more information, including life cycle and waxwing song.

In lieu of a list

Many birders keep lists of the birds they have seen; I don't. Half the time, I don't know what it was I saw, just that it was beautiful; half the time, I only saw a smidgen of bird, anyhow. Was that a wren? Or a sparrow? Or maybe a mouse?

My lists would be made up of "maybes". So I am sure that the black-headed grosbeaks we saw on Sunday were not lifers; I'm sure I must have seen some before. I just didn't know what they were. Now I do, and I know what their song is like; "a drunken robin", says my guide book, and that describes it perfectly. Next time, I'll actually remember! (Thanks to Hugh, who does know these things.)

So here are two grosbeaks, and a handful of other delights from Sunday's outing at Reifel Island, in no particular order:

Black-headed grosbeak at a feeder. Male.

Another one, overhead.

Brown-headed cowbird.

A manky mallard, or just a male losing his breeding plumage?

Silverweed

Reflections in shallow water, with bird seed.

This Canada goose was standing guard near a large gathering of goslings and parents.

I love those "socks"!

Comfy

A mallard duckling struggling up a dusty bank.

Tree swallow atop his house.

Not a bird.

Wood duck pair. Look at that purple head!

Reflections in still water

Fluffy cattails

Sparrow. House, I think.

Cedar waxwing. I cheated here; in the original photo, the top of its crest was cut off. I cloned the bit that was missing, plus some leaves for the background.

Cow parsnip, against the light.

We missed seeing the sandhill cranes; one of the paths is barricaded, because they are raising their families in that area. We'll have to go back soon, to see the chicks when they start wandering.