Flycatchers! The very name strikes fear into the heart of every fly and many birders! A recent walk with the Bridge Lake area birders allowed ample opportunity to become familiar with a number of these hard-to-identify birds.

We walked along the south shore of Muskrat Lake which is gently sloping meadowland with glades of poplar. The opposite shore was typical spruce forest right to the water’s edge. Near the water, tangles of willows and grasses grew in profusion and in this mixed habitat a number of species of Flycatchers were spending the nesting season.

The Flycatchers we encountered were (from largest to smallest) Eastern Kingbird, Olive-sided Flycatcher, Western Wood Pewee, Willow Flycatcher, Dusky Flycatcher, Hammond’s Flycatcher, and the Least Flycatcher.

With the exception of the Eastern Kingbird, these are not easy birds to identify. The Olive-sided can be confused with the Western-wood Pewee and the others of this group, the Empidonax Flycathers, if they remain silent, can be frustrating to separate.

One thing that all Flycatchers have in common is a habit of sitting on prominent limbs or treetops from which they dart upwards or outwards in order to catch flying insects, thus their name is very appropriate.

We spotted the Eastern Kingbird calling loudly and skittering above the Willows. The Eastern Kingbird is a member of the Tyrant Flycatcher group and its Latin name tyrannus tyrannus, is a reference to its belligerent manner. Kingbirds fly up and pursue all sorts of predatory birds that pass over their territory; this includes Eagles and Falcons. I noticed that when they are on the tail of a Falcon they proceed with more caution, keeping closer to cover than they might when harassing an Eagle. The Eastern Kingbird looks black and white at a distance with a white terminal tail band. There are few birds with which it can be confused.

We heard the Olive-sided Flycatcher long before we saw it. Its call is interpreted many ways. Some hear ‘hip three cheers’. I hear ‘hic! free beer!’ The ‘hic’ is often heard only in quieter settings. The Olive-sided Flycatcher is a large, dark-brown bird with dusky sides that form a ‘vest’ and a pale strip that runs down the centre of its chest and stomach. When the Olive-sided is not calling it can be identified by its markings and large size. Olive-sided Flycatchers like to sit high on Spruce trees overlooking a willow wetland.

We saw and heard Western Wood-Pewees many times during our walk. The Western Wood-Pewee looks like the younger brother of the Olive-sided. They have essentially the same characteristics, however the Pewee is smaller. The Western Wood Pewee, as the name suggests, can be found in wooded areas near water. Its calls all sound listless, exhausted, or downright tired. The loudest utterance sounds like a descending ‘peeesh’. A Pewee will spend hours making this sound.

During our walk along Muskrat Lake we came upon a Hammond’s Flycatcher in a grove of poplar trees a short distance from the water. The Hammond’s is a member of the notoriously hard to identify Empidonax Flycatcher clan. This is a group of birds to humble many a birder. Coloured in olives and greys each species has subtle differences in looks but as the books advise there are variations to each species that make certainty of identification difficult. The voice is the key to identification with this group.

We were drawn to the Hammond’s by its call, which is very much like the Dusky Flycatcher in form. The Dusky, to my ear says ‘Izzit-free-really’ The ‘free’ is low and burry, the ‘really’ rises audibly. The Hammond’s call is similar with no rising notes in the utterances. Overall, the Hammond’s sounds are low and gruff. Both the Dusky and the Hammond’s favour a canopy of trees with an open understory.

We encountered the Willow Flycatcher, which is also an Empidonax, out in the willows. It likes open areas and haunts the creeks and wetlands. From the tops of shrubs it calls out ‘fitz-bew’. It is a greenish bird with a pale breast and sits with its tail drooped.

We did not actually see the Alder Flycatcher, but identified the bird by its very audible ‘ree-beeet’ call. The Alder Flycatcher prefers habitat similar to the Willow Flycatchers.

The smallest Empidonax Flycatcher is the Least Flycatcher. Toward the end of our walk we heard its diagnostic call. It blurts out ‘ch-bek’ as single utterances or as a series. In the Poplar trees a number of Least Flycatchers were vocally having it out, incessantly ‘ch-bek-ing’ at each other. Least Flycatchers prefer upland situations with a mixed, relatively open forest.

And those are the flycatchers we saw. Steeped in Flycatcher calls for a few months of the year, it is possible to feel that a moderate grasp of the various species has been gained. Unfortunately the winter months work their magic on the memory and its back to the books at ‘green time’ for me.

I would like to thank the Bridge Lake birding group for inviting me to bird out their way. Of course we saw many other bird species but I think that seeing the wide array of Flycatchers was one of the highlights.

Fatigued By Mom

When visiting my mother last year I casually remarked that I thought the new-fangled cargo pants would be very good for people like me who take a lot of stuff with them when they go walking. I usually carry pencils, drawing paper, toilet paper, whistles, watches, books and other bizarre accessories. My comment didn’t go unnoticed and last Christmas morning I tore open a gift-wrapped package from mom and there was a pair of cargo pants. Well, they weren’t quite the pants I had envisioned. These were camouflage army pants. Real army pants! These were not the wan articles a trendy yuppie might wear while roughing it on Granville Island where the biggest threat to life and limb might be a passing seagull with a bowel disorder. This was formal mercenary gear.

Of course, I thanked mother profusely - I am after all a well brought up son. I silently wondered if I would ever have occasion to wear these particular pants? Most people I hang out with don’t wear real army pants or real army anything for that matter and you know how bad peer pressure can be when it comes to clothes? But more importantly, I always thought that people who wore army pants and aren’t really in an army were … how can I put this? … trying to tell society that it was just a matter of time before they flipped out completely and took sudden and violent revenge on everybody for all the real and imagined slights the faceless masses had put them through. So ingrained is this perception that I have been known to leave a fast food restaurant hurriedly if a camo-clad person enters.

Curiously, on the day of the recent Churn Creek bird trip as I pondered the appropriate clothing for the day - a day when I knew I would face pelting rain, possible snow, blazing sun, and fierce winds, the army pants raised their mottled specter from the heap of possibilities. ‘I’m the right choice.’ said the pants confidently. ‘Sir! Yes sir!’ I barked. Without hesitation I put them on.

To make a long story short, I found these pants to be the most comfortable and versatile piece of clothing I have worn. These pants, a blend of nylon and cotton, were warm when it was cold, cool when the sun blazed, windproof when the gales howled, and dried in minutes after getting wet. I realized that I had judged these pants too quickly. Army pants weren’t just for the fringe statement maker, they were made for people like me, birders or anyone who found themselves facing typical Cariboo May/June weather. Now I’m the one walking into fast food restaurants in army fatigues.

Still, there’s nothing more humbling for an old soldier like me than to find that my mother still knows best, even if it’s about such odd things as the advantages of wearing army gear.

Another Slack Tale

I don’t know whether my mother sensed my trepidation when I received the army pants for Christmas but when my birthday rolled around a few months later she gave me another pair of cargo pants. These were not camo and not any kind of army issue, but tan pants with legs that zip off. Now these detachable legs seemed like a great idea at first. Knowing how often I’m out walking in all sorts of weather mom probably thought that zip-off legs would certainly be an additional benefit.

First of all, I must ask, are these pants a new idea? I don’t recall seeing them in previous years. I am always curious how these ideas come about. Was it a result of a training day on the assembly line when a worker from the sleeping bag department sat in on a pants assembly line and got a little confused?

Now to the drawbacks. I can lose whole pairs of pants. I can easily forget how many pairs of pants I own and find I have not worn a certain pair for years. If I can lose pants I can certainly lose detachable pant legs. Cargo pants with zip-off legs represent three items that I must find before I can wear one pair of pants. I also own many mismatched socks. How long will it be before I lose one of these zip-off legs I wonder. One of the legs will probably drop along a trail in the bush or disappear as socks do in the washing ritual. And when this happens will it be socially acceptable to wear pants with one long leg and one short, or will they be relegated to shorts-only duty? Do you know how many days of shorts weather we have in the South Cariboo? In other words these pants-turned-shorts would be virtually useless.

Today another problem arose. While out walking I felt it was too cold for both pant legs to be off but probably ideal for having one leg removed. Would this make me look kooky I wondered? I know I would have been more comfortable but was this just an excuse for wardrobe anarchy? Maybe I could just unzip the front of the knees to let the air come in as in torn jeans.

I know there are simpler cultures on earth where people don’t have to face the kind of stresses our daily life imposes, places where pants are pants, and shorts are shorts. I wonder - have we come too far too fast? At times like these, when I fear losing touch with what is real, I remind myself that I’m still a humble person and no matter how glamorous or high-end my equipment might become I still zip my pants legs on, when I can find them, one cuff at a time.