Red-shouldered Hawk in snow...

It was a unpleasant surprise to look out to snow this morning. Our resident Red-shouldered Hawk seems to agree with the assessment...

Big Red perches in the snow-covered Mulberry Tree.  A stripe of snow clings to the center of his forehead.
I don't think he's pleased...  

Snow in April 

A Snowy Snowbird...

A female Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis) lives up to her nickname of snowbird...

A female Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis) in the snow.

With rosy-pink bills, gray cloaks, and bright white feathers on their bellies, Dark-eyed Juncos are distinctive and pretty birds. They have sweet-sounding calls too. When a small flock surrounds you in the snow, their high-pitched tinkling sounds carry well through the whiteness...and if you're fanciful, might make you think of snow fairies ringing out tiny bells...really!

Our little snowbird gives me the once over as she listens to the camera shutter click. 
Birds are so aware of everything going on around them that it's almost impossible to escape detection.  

When I was photographing this Dark-eyed Junco, "you're a snowy little snowbird" went through my mind, and I wondered where the nickname snowbird came from. It's easy enough to figure out why the nickname arose...the birds arrive in our area when snow starts to fly, so snowbird fits, but I was interested in when the name came about. That evening, I accessed the online version of Birds of America by John James Audubon (click here for the book). I wondered if Audubon had an entry for Dark-eyed Juncos, and found one, but he didn't call them juncos, he referred to them as "Common Snow-birds!" I always assumed snowbird was a modern moniker, so it was fun to learn the name was old, and it was the name Audubon used to describe juncos:

"Although the Snow-Birds live in little families, consisting of twenty, thirty, or more individuals, they seem always inclined to keep up a certain degree of etiquette among themselves, and will not suffer one of their kind, or indeed any other bird, to come into immediate contact with them. To prevent intrusions of this kind, when a stranger comes too near, their little bills are instantly opened, their wings are extended, their eyes are seen to sparkle, and they emit a repelling sound peculiar to themselves on such occasions." (click here for the text)

I wondered how much earlier the name snowbird had been used and found a quick answer in Wikipedia. No surprise, Linnaeus described the bird in his 1758 Systema naturae as Fringilla hyemalis. What interested me, however, was his source had been Mark Catesby, whom I knew was a natural historian and bird artist from colonial American times. My knowledge of Catesby related only to several of his beautiful bird paintings, so I bought a few books on him to learn more (I learned a lot, but all of that will have to wait for another post). Catesby's "Snow Bird" appears in volume one of his book The Natural History of Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands (v1 first published in 1732, but this scan is from the 1771 edition):

Catesby's description of the snowbird is in volume one of "The Natural History of Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands." 
I love seeing the old text. The version of the book I bought is a simple copy of the original, and the quality isn't perfect, but it's fun reading his original words in the archaic font.

From Catesby's biographies, I learned John Lawson preceded him, and Catesby valued his work, so I wondered if Lawson mentioned the bird in his writings. In Lawson's book published in 1709, A New Voyage to Carolina; Containing the Exact Description and Natural History of That Country (click here for an online version), he called Dark-eyed Juncos "Snow-Birds" too:

The Snow-Birds are most numerous in the North Parts of America, where there are great Snows. They visit us sometimes in Carolina, when the Weather is harder than ordinary. (Click here for online text, page 146.)

...so the name is old. Where did Lawson hear the name? Did he coin it or had earlier settlers used it? Did the Native Americans refer to the bird as snowbird in their tongue? I don't know. When all is said and done, it's an old name (as are most of the bird names), and I imagine those of us who only see juncos in the winter will continue to call them snowbirds for a long time!

You can see a bit of the white on the tail feathers (retrices) that flash white when a junco flies up from the ground. This flash of white on the tail is an easy way to identify these birds from a distance. It's what I always watch for in the autumn when I'm waiting for these birds to return to our yard from their summer breeding grounds up north. The white flash gives them away every time! 

Snow fairies ringing out tiny bells...
As for my description of a junco's call likened to snow fairies with bells...I learned it's not original. Thoreau and Bent thought so too. Thoreau writes about juncos many times in his musings. He either refers to them as "slate-colored snow birds," or he uses Linnaeus' scientific name of F. hyemalis or just hyemalis. He liked to use the word "jingle" to describe their call (jingle like a fairy bell?). Here are a few references:

"March 23, 1852: I heard this forenoon a pleasant jingling note from the slate colored snow bird on the oaks in the sun on Minot's hill-side."  (Click here for a free ebook link to the quote.)

"March 28, 1853: The woods ring with the cheerful jingle of the F. hyemalis."   (Click here for a free ebook link to the quote.)

"April 1, 1854: ...I hear the jingle of the hyemalis from within the house, sounding like a trill." (Click here for a free ebook link to the quote.)  

I also like Thoreau's description of a snowbird:

"The straight edge of slate on their breasts contrasts remarkably with the white from beneath; the short, light-colored bill is also very conspicuous amid the dark slate: and when they fly from you, the two white feathers in their tails are very distinct at a good distance. They are very lively, pursuing each other from bush to bush." (Click here for a free ebook link to the quote.)

...and Arthur Bent, who I enjoy reading because he and his contributors provide colorful descriptions and histories of birds, reported a woman interpreted a snowbird's bell-like tinkling as that of a woodland sprite. From Bent's Life Histories of North American Birds (1968) on the Birds by Bent site (click here for the electronic version of the book, and here for the Dark-eyed Junco page):

"In notes she sent Mr. Bent, Mrs. Lawrence comments on "the lovely tinkling chorus by the juncos in early spring, as if a myriad of woodland sprites were shaking little bells in an intensive competition," and she syllabizes three variations of the junco song as follows: tilililililili, tililili-tililili, and tuituituitililili."

Females (like the one above) have lovely light grey feathers on top with light brown feathers mixed in on the head, shoulders and flanks. Males have pure charcoal or slate gray coats that look debonair. Their darker color accentuates the transition between the gray and white feathers on their bellies, which is very striking.  

A Dark-eyed Junco puffs up against the cold while she breaks open a sunflower seed. 

...about Mark Catesby
Catesby's contributions to science are immense, and he was famous in his day--even Lewis and Clark knew of his work and used his book on their travels, but not many people know about him today. He was one of the first to paint America's birds, plants, reptiles and mammals (John White in 1585 was the first, click here to read about him), and Catesby was innovative because he was the first to paint them in their habitats--very exciting and interesting for his time. Europeans wanted to know what the flora and fauna in American looked like, and Catesby provided a glimpse. He was the go-to source until Alexander Wilson's American Ornithology (published between 1808 - 1814) and John James Audubon's Birds of America (published between 1827-1838) came along. Why does everyone know Audubon, but almost no one remembers Catesby? Possibly because Catesby published his work before binomial nomenclature (the two-part Latin or scientific naming system used by Linnaeus) was in use. Over time, scientists who didn't use binomial nomenclature in their work fell out of favor. On top of that, Catesby's books were very rare (only 180 copies of his book were printed) and he was a general naturalist studying and painting all of nature. Scientists were moving toward specialization, so over time, specialists considered his work old school, and it was forgotten. Audubon's work was extensive, expressive, and specialized, so he became the go-to source for ornithology (but it took about 100 years for that to happen!).                            

...one more tidbit on Catesby before I go. Catesby is one of the first to write about bird migration. At the time, people still thought birds hibernated in caves or in the muck of ponds during the winter, but in 1725 Catesby wrote that after listening to bobolinks (he called them Rice Birds because they loved to eat rice) flying over his boat for three nights running, when it occurred to him they were probably flying seasonally to follow the rice crop (in v1 of The Natural History of Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands--click here for the original text).


...about the Mark Catesby books I bought
I bought all of the books on Amazon, and found them all helpful. Here is a quick review of each:

The Natural History of Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands: containing the figures of birds, beasts, fishes, serpents, insects, and plants: with their descriptions in English and French: v1 and v2 (1771)  (Eighteenth Century Collections Online Print Editions ECCO). This book is a photocopy of Catesby's original book. It is wonderful for the text, but it is not the highest quality reproduction. In areas you can't read the text, but I still love it because I enjoy seeing the original font. Don't look to this book for representations of his artwork, however. The paintings are basically black silhouettes copied on a photocopier).

Catesby's Birds of Colonial America; edited by Alan Feduccia (The University of North Carolina Press), 1985. I love this book because the reproductions of Catesby's birds are wonderful. The book starts with 20 full-color plates and the rest of the paintings are fine black and white reproductions. Feduccia eliminated the French descriptions, and lightly edited the text for modern usage. He also includes editor's notes on each bird with the bird's modern name (common and scientific), descriptions, historical context, and reference's to Lawson's birds too. This book focuses on the birds from Catesby's original books.

Empire's Nature, Mark Catesby's New World Vision; by Amy R.W. Meyers and Margaret Beck Pritchard (The University of North Carolina Press), 1998. A lot of information is in this book, and it's presented in a collection of essays by several contributors. I'm learning a lot and am enjoying the book...only half-way through!

The Curious Mister Catesby, a film by Cynthia Neal and David Elliott, 2007
When I ordered this title, I thought it was a book, so I was surprised to see it was a video. I'm glad it was a video because I really enjoyed watching it, and I learned a lot (I've watched it several times).

...and if you don't want to buy volume 1 and 2 of Catesby's Natural History, free online versions are available with high-quality scans:

Click here for an online version of the 1771 edition of the book.
Click here for an online scan of the painting of Catesby's snowbird in volume one.

...whew! What a rambly post this was, but worth it. There is so much to say on these subjects...more to come on Catesby!

Black, orange and white...striking in the snow!

As snowflakes tumbled, drifted and fell, sticking to anything that didn't move (including me), I kept my camera lens trained on an American Tree Sparrow as he picked seeds from withered and dried goldenrod flower heads. It was quiet and lovely, with just the sweet calls of American Tree Sparrows, Dark-eyed Juncos, White-crowned Sparrows and Carolina Chickadees around me. As I watched the American Tree Sparrow through the lens, a sudden flash of orange burst through the background. What? I quickly looked up from my camera, and there in front of me sat a handsome and regal male Eastern Towhee...

An Eastern Towhee (Pipilo erythrophthalmus) looks dashing in the snow. His deep black, rufous, and bright white plumage are especially striking with snowflakes falling all around him.

Eastern Towhees are year-round birds in our area, but we don't normally see them in our backyard. Towhees really aren't suburban birds. They like the deep leaf litter found in shrubby forest edges or open woodlands, and while some come to feeders, most shy away from humans. So I was excited and happy to see this beautiful bird. I've been adding bushes and brushy areas to our yard for years trying to create the perfect "birdy" habitat. Maybe it's starting to work. The towhee was foraging in a tangle of weeds, grasses and shrubs under our weeping willow tree. Ideal habitat for the bird...

An Eastern Towhee faces into the wind and falling snowflakes. 

It looks like this fella took a nip of snow from the small accumulation beside him, but the visible ice crystals on his face really resulted from rooting for seeds just a moment earlier in snow-covered weeds on the ground. 

Eastern Towhees like to scrabble and scuffle in the leaf litter on the ground, so it was nice to see him come up to less snow-covered branches to pose for the camera! :-)

I have to admit. I still let "Rufous-sided" Towhee slip when naming this bird. I learned the bird as a Rufous-sided Towhee as a teen and can't seem to shake it. The name was changed in 1995 to Eastern Towhee...could someone please tell my brain that?

For having the same black and rufous-colored plumage of an American Robin, it's amazing how different the birds look. Even from a distance the silhouette of the towhee clearly marks it as a different bird, and when you throw in the tail bobbing, spreading and flicking a towhee is so famous for, there's no question...

...the famous tail bobbing of an Eastern Towhee! 

American Tree Sparrows blew in with the snow...

...finally our American Tree Sparrows have arrived for the winter! They always seem to ride in on the night winds of the first big snow in January, so when I looked out the kitchen window yesterday morning, I had my fingers crossed. Sure enough...the little sparrows were under the feeders searching out seeds. I cracked the window so I could hear their pretty, twittery calls. It only took colder temps and five inches of snow to lure them in...

A sweet American Tree Sparrow (Spizella arborea) pulls seed from brush in our backyard. 

American Tree Sparrows are birds from the far north, so they are well adapted to our cold winters. This spring our little flock will pick up and head back home, flying over 2,000 miles to reach their breeding grounds in Manitoba, so we have to enjoy them while we can. I'm thankful we have a little flock that stays with us each winter. Their cheery calls and warm, beautiful colors always brighten up the gray that can descend during winter. I just checked the thermometer and it's 4 degrees Fahrenheit. These little fellas should feel right at home!

American Tree Sparrows eat the seeds at my feeders, but they also scour the yard looking for weed seeds and spent flower heads. I know they love the purple coneflowers that I have all over, especially those mixed into the weed patch I've created in part of my yard. They go for Goldenrod too...and almost any plant packed with seeds.

...a weed seed eating demon!  

In the January 2009 issue of Birds and Blooms magazine, George Harrison mentioned that over a hundred years ago, a Professor F.E.L Beal reported that in Iowa, American Tree Sparrows consumed 875 tons of weed seeds annually, and farmers considered these little birds economic allies. (These angelic looking birds are weed-seed-eating demons!)

The two-toned yellow and black bill, and the stickpin in the center of his chest are two identifying field marks of the American Tree Sparrow...not to mention his jaunty rusty cap!

...a pretty bird in beautiful snow! I can never resist head-on shots of the winter birds.

The warm chocolate browns, caramels, and rusty oranges are beautiful against the white snow. 

Don't clean your yard up in the fall...birds like it messy!
I always leave flower heads, weedy areas, and brushy areas for the birds in winter. The little sparrows can't resist these wild pockets in a suburban yard. I've let a section of my yard "go wild" with goldenrod, black-eyed susans, purple coneflowers, and grasses and I can always find something interesting hiding out in the brush...

An American Tree Sparrow hangs out in the wild weed patch. I never cut down flower heads and weedy areas in the fall. I leave them as is for the birds, who eat seeds and wintering insects in them all winter long. In our yard, the American Tree Sparrows, Dark-eyed Juncos, White-throated and White-crowned Sparrows, American Goldfinch, and Carolina Chickadees really love the uncut grasses in the weed patch. 

Our snow birds are happy...

...because we have snow! What a perfect way to start the new year. It seems the persimmon seeds we cracked open this autumn were right...

A Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis) in the snow...the first bird of 2013!

I took these photos a few days ago when the snow first fell, but they fit perfectly with today's post because a Dark-eyed Junco was the first bird Rick and I saw this morning. Three little junkies were hopping on the deck, eating seeds I scattered last night.

A male Dark-eyed Junco sitting in a young mulberry tree as snow falls softly.

A female Dark-eyed Junco with a bill full of snow!

...a snow bird on a snowy day.

Wishing everyone a Happy New Year!

...and all the best for 2013!

...for past First Bird of the Year posts, click here.

Where are the peanuts?

It was cold. It was dark. It was icing.

I was out of peanuts.

Red was not amused...

...reduced to eating frozen crabapples in an ice storm, Red glares at me with his left eye.

...then he gives me the once over with his right eye.

...until he finally decides the cold shoulder is all I deserve.

...and yes, I did run out and restock immediately!

In reality, Red was on the other side of the great room window eating crabapples, which were frozen and aged to perfection. I think he really liked them because he hung around for a while. Every time I clicked the shutter he would glance up at me until he decided there was no news attached to the clicking sound and went back to plucking off and eating the crabapples.

(p.s. I really was out of peanuts...and I really did go out and restock, which made the Northern Cardinals and Blue Jays very happy!)

Where is our snow?

I miss it. Last year at this time we had well over a foot of snow on the ground, and when I looked out our living room window, I had cute little birds like this staring back at me...

...an American Goldfinch in the snow.

...he's killing me with the head tilt! That little move ratchets up the cute-o-meter like nothing else...

Male American Goldfinches are always pretty, especially in the summer when their breeding plumage glows gold in the sun, but in the winter, when they return to their basic plumage, they fade to an olive brown with only a hint of their former glory around their eyes and neck. Suddenly, they blend with the browns and greys of dead winter and barely raise a second glance, but when snowflakes fall and they sit with a backdrop of bright white snow, they once again glow gold and demand attention!

"I'm a ball of fluff, and I can melt any heart..."

Yesterday we had three flakes of snow. It was supposed to be an inch, but it fizzled into rain. I have snow gear galore—boots, gloves, down pants and a down coat, and a panda bear hat to top it all off—but unfortunately, no where to wear it! Hurry up and get here snow...

(I took these photos 12-12-10. We had snow, snow, snow then.)

About our rain...

We've had our wettest year on record. It has rained almost every other day this year...about 72 inches of rain, which scored us another record—the wettest city in the nation's top 100 largest cities. My hubby, Rick, filled me in on the stats last week. We normally get 137 days of rain. This year, we've had 187 days. If only all the rain this month had been snow... :-)

P.S. Happy Birthday, Dad!!!

White-throated Sparrow in a tangle of snowy branches...at dusk...

I saw this White-throated Sparrow back in January. I was at Pine Hill Lakes, a local park, "snowbirding" while Matty and his friend were snowboarding. This fellow was tucked so deeply into the branches it was impossible to photograph him, but I studied him for three or four minutes as he sat puffed up against the cold, knowing I'd turn him into a painting. It wasn't quite as dark as I painted it here, but the sun was starting to sink, and evening was falling hard--the cold biting bitterly and leaving my fingers practically numb.

Painting 127 - White-throated Sparrow in a Tangle of Snowy Branches at Dusk

Watercolor, 12x16 Arches Cold Pressed 140 lb Paper

To create the background, I masked out the branches and bird, and used a heavily pigmented wash sprinkled liberally with salt. I wanted the dark blue to convey cold and impending nightfall. As the wash dried, the salt crystals sucked up some of the pigment leaving a mottled design. I used many layers to create the dark, dark branches, trying to add to the feel of dusk. This painting tested my patience! I kept wanting to "just finish the branches already," but I would force myself to walk away and let the layer dry. The branches were vital to the design, so I couldn't hurry them along.

Pencil Sketch and Study of the White-throated Sparrow. If you look in the top-left corner, you can see I worked out the design back on February 14. This little White-throated Sparrow bounced around in my head for a long time.

I used this blurry ref photo to help me sketch out the painting, but I used my memories to create the "feel." I knew I wouldn't be able to get a good photo of him that afternoon, so I took extra time to study him. I wanted to remember how I felt when I saw him so my memories could drive the painting.

(I'm trying to decide if I want to add snowflakes to the painting...I would spatter them on to look like a gentle snowfall. It wasn't snowing when I watched this guy, but a few snowflakes might be in order!)

This painting is part of the 100 Painting Challenge. If you want to make art a regular part of your life...join up! This is my second year of the challenge. I'm working on 500 paintings in five years.

Tufted Titmouse sitting pretty...

Sunday afternoon the snow was fresh along the Little Miami River and covered the hillsides and paths along the way. Winter birds were all around, their calls softly filtering through the branches, muffled as they carried across the snow. At one point, I looked up and saw this lone Tufted Titmouse perched on the end of a small branch. He was tucked in among lacy shadows, catching a sun ray every now and then...perfectly mirroring the beauty and stillness of winter.

A Tufted Titmouse along the Little Miami River shows a touch of winter's magic.

All of the beauty...none of the flash...

Well...maybe some of the flash! Through the camera lens, female Northern Cardinals are beautiful. Their bright, coral-colored beaks flash vividly against their subdued plumage, and if their counterparts weren't so outrageously red, they might even be considered exotic.

I love the "glare" that came through with this one. She seems to be saying in response to my intro "...and don't you forget it!"

...she's so sweet as she peeks through the branches, warily watching me.

Little Miss Red, you can win anyone's heart with that cute little head tilt!

I agree Little Miss Red...your crest of red feathers is nothing to sneeze at either.

Remember the Breadcrumb Fairy?

...she still seems to be visiting Pine Hill Lakes!

A little Carolina Chickadee alighted in the pine tree that the good-hearted Breadcrumb Fairy always seems to toss buns under. Click here to see what the Breadcrumb Fairy brought last year (I still haven't seen who the fairy is...).

Chiggy is studying the ground beneath the huge pine looking for breadcrumbs.

He looks a little harder..."they have to be down there somewhere, they always are..."

It was late in the day, and the birds must have been busy all day eating what was there because the snow and pine needles had been well "bird-foot-raked," and nothing much was left to be seen--but after a little hopping around and kicking up snow, the birds always came up with something to eat.

Looking...looking...

Our little tan-striped morph White-throated Sparrow was thorough in his recon...

...looking some more...a snowbird's work is never finished...

It all pays off. He's just about to rake up a bite to eat.

A sweet Song Sparrow gets in on the action and is rewarded for his efforts too.