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August 5, 2004  Fahrenheit 90 When I'm in a particular codgery state of mind I like to think that I still don't understand the Celsius way of measuring temperature. Ninety degrees (Fahrenheit) in the shade still sounds a lot hotter than 32 degrees (Celsius) in the same location and when you're going for the dramatic, a bigger number wins out every time. Regardless how it is measured though, we have had a few weeks of hot weather recently and on visits to my yard from the house-sit location I couldn't help but notice how the aridity was causing the wild plants to shrivel. The yard where I live most of the year is a dry side-hill. There are no bodies of water or small springs to wet the parched ground and mammals and birds alike have to travel some distance to appease their thirsts. At the top of the cliff behind the house there are a few curious, isolated ponds of water in spring where livestock gather but as serious summer heat depletes these sources the closest place for water is the creek probably a mile distance from the house. It was with this lack of water in mind that I tried to keep my three water dishes filled even though I wasn't at the property every day. I was rewarded for this effort when I returned to the house again to stay. At dawn, the day after my return, I went to the window and the number and variety of birds drinking and bathing was incredible. The activity was positively party-like as birds of all colours and sizes jostled for room and a chance to bathe or drink. I was kept busy watching and adding names to a growing list of the birds, some which visited several times a day. Here is the complete list of birds I saw at the water: Ruby-crowned Kinglet, Brown Creeper, Mountain and Black-capped Chickadee, Gray Jay, Swainson's and Hermit Thrush, Western Tanager, American Robin, Pine Siskin, Dark-eyed Junco, Evening Grosbeak, Downy and Hairy Woodpecker, Northern Flicker, Chipping Sparrow, Orange-crowned Warbler, Yellow Warbler, Yellow-rumped Warbler, Red Breasted Nuthatch, and an unidentified Sparrow. I added two other birds to the list though I'd seen them when I came over a few days earlier. They were an unidentified Blackbird and a female Townsend's Warbler. Just listing the bird species attracted to the water dishes was impressive enough but it did nothing to describe the interactions and numbers of each species. The presence and watch-ability of three of the species on the list was really surprising. They were the Brown Creeper and the two Thrushes. I have never seen a Brown Creeper respond to any kind of food I put out in winter though I know they check out the trees in the yard every day so I was surprised to see this stand-offish bird seeking water. The Creeper first tried to get to the big water container but the Robins there, thrashing up spray like grounded paddle wheelers, were too much for it. It then flew to the dish, which is in view from the front window, and was able to get in a few licks between the other birds comings and goings. Seemingly satisfied it flew to a nearby tree and resumed its familiar trunk climbing. I saw it again the next morning down for water. The two species of Thrush were also surprising. Thrushes, both Hermit and Swainson's, live in the bush surrounding the house during nesting season but for most of the year exist for me only as beautiful songs at days end. I expect to see nothing more than brief glances of them as they remain secreted away in the mossy understory. Not so with the ones that visited the water dishes. I admit that most of these are likely juveniles but regardless they provide a rare chance to fully appreciate a most secretive bird. I'd estimated the number at about 4 of each Thrush species so there was often one in sight even in the hottest times of day. Aside from bathing and drinking the Hermit Thrushes seemed quite entertained by plucking Saskatoon berries from a shrub that leans up against the back window. Western tanagers were constantly at the water. Many were juveniles and in that plumage they are generally just a plain yellow but striking nonetheless. A lone male ventured down from the evergreen tops about once a day sporting the red head that signifies his gender. Western tanagers also went for the Saskatoon berries with a zeal equaled only by Cedar Waxwings. The visiting Warblers were interesting as was the Junco and Chipping Sparrows but being the sleuth that I am, the most interesting bird was one I couldn't identify. It arrived later in the afternoon. It flew up to the rim of the biggest water dish and caught my eye immediately. I had no trouble seeing most of its features as it moved down the limb in the water dish and drank. A Siskin's aggressive arrival drove the Sparrow to a nearby poplar sapling and there again I took note of all its traits. I knew I was looking at a Sparrow that I had not seen before but I also had to allow that this, like many other of the bird species in the yard, might be a juvenile of a more familiar species. I knew it wasn't a juvenile Junco or an immature Chipping Sparrow as there were many examples of them to be seen. The mystery Sparrow had the following traits: It was smaller than a Song Sparrow, moved rather methodically, had a flat-topped head with two median stripes leaving a pale central area on the top, distinct facial pattern, slight streaking on the sides of the upper chest and was quite heavily patterned on the back. In the books, the trait of having a flat-topped head put this bird into a group of Sparrows called the Ammodramus containing birds such as the Grasshopper, Le Conte's, Baird's, and Nelson's Sharp-tailed Sparrow. I isolated these members of the Ammodramus group because their ranges, though not in our area, sit adjacent. Three are found on the other side of the Rockies in Alberta, the other comes up to about the 49th parallel right across Canada. I thought restricting the choices to possible nearby species would help but as I studied the options, I still couldn't say with certainty which Sparrow it was. The likelihood of it being a juvenile loomed very large and that compounded the difficulty. After a few hours I gave up trying to nail down the mystery Sparrow's positive identity. It was not lost on me that after consulting many bird texts if I put as much effort into looking at the Celsius thermometer as I did with my bird research I would be a Celsius expert. The only thing I would have to practice after that was yelling out 'Holy cow! It's 32 degrees in the shade!' with as much incredulity as I do the Fahrenheit number. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
