 The Little Gray Package Yesterday evening I was outside spending some quality time with my nasturtiums when I happened to hear a faint bird call over the noise of traffic. Despite the sound coming from so far away I immediately knew the caller. It was a Townsend’s Solitaire making a telltale “eent” sound from the dry sloping land behind the house. This call, once memorized, reveals the presence of the very shy bird. Perhaps “shy” does not quite accurately describe the Townsend’s Solitaire. While it has the ability to fade into the scenery and all but disappear from the sight of many a casual bird watcher, it is not a bird to lurk in deep underbrush or shun a prominent limb where, in spring, it can be plainly heard pouring forth an impressive rambling song. No doubt the Solitaire’s plain plumage helps it to remain unobserved. It is grey and slender, and about the size of a Bluebird – That is about all one notices when first encountering a Solitaire. Upon closer inspection you might notice a white eye ring on an otherwise unmarked head. And with still further scrutiny you might see the white outer tail feathers. If you know your bird well, you might be able to find its nest. Choice of nest location suggests another connection with a Bluebird. Though not particularly taken with tree holes or bird box offerings as a Bluebird might be, the Solitaire places its nest in a close natural situation. It will seek the overhang of a cut bank - a roadside will do nicely, and tuck the nest up close to the top of a ledge where drooping grass provides a screen from prying eyes. In size the nest resembles a Robin’ nest and it is easy to imagine that before the advent of manmade structures, Robins also built in similar spots. When the young Solitaires are able to fly they often accompany the parent birds, and thanks to their need for water, I often see the fledglings in their juvenile plumage at the water dish on the dry hillside where I live. Compared with the parent birds, the juvenile plumage is almost alarming. A young Solitaire gives the impression of being covered in fish scales because of each feather’s light coloured edging. Later on, when the next molt rolls around, the juveniles achieve the same overall grayness of the parents and along with their new feathers, lose the ability to startle. I was surprised by the hardiness of the Solitaire the first time I saw this quiet member of the Thrush family. One day in the dead of winter as the temperature hovered around minus 25 degrees Celsius, I stood and watched the usual winter birds at the feeder when a graceful bird fluttered into the light. I recognized it immediately as a Solitaire and assumed that it was attracted by all the coming and going of other birds, then moved a bit closer to see what was going on. Though not given to feeder fare, as far as I know, the Solitaire hung about in the lilac bush for some time and gave me a new perspective on its life. I later learned that the Solitaire regularly spent winters in the South Cariboo and subsisted almost exclusively on juniper berries. The song of the Solitaire is another surprise that this bird sprang. One day during spring I walked across the top of a prominent rock outcropping. From a fir tree in front of the outcropping came an unknown bird song. It was incredibly complex but I realized that most of it consisted of imitations of other bird sounds. I stared into the limbs of the fir tree and spotted the gray nondescript, medium-sized singer. Was I listening to my first Mockingbird? I was convinced that it was a Mockingbird. I poured over the books in order to become familiar with any bird capable of making a strong song with imitated bird calls. I could immediately rule out another gray bird - the Catbird was very familiar and I knew it preferred to sing from deep tangles along a creek side. Again and again I went to the spot and listened to the mysterious bird but gradually realized that it did not exactly fit the Mockingbird’s description. Grudgingly I came to accept that the bird with the incredible song was none other than a Townsend’s Solitaire. The Townsend’s Solitaire is a western bird and in Canada never really ventures much further east than the Rocky Mountains, but it is found all the way north to Alaska and south to Mexico. For a bird that can easily be overlooked, I have come to treasure each encounter with the Townsend’s Solitaire – the little gray package that opens so slowly. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
