This morning I was pleasantly surprised to find the white over blue banded Song Sparrow singing in the tree in the yard. The last time I saw him(?) was 10 April, and I’m guessing at that point he departed for points north to nest. As I observed, I had the impression that he may have been establishing a territory of sorts – in particular, letting a Song Sparrow in a neighboring yard know that this was going to be his winter home. I haven’t noticed any Song Sparrows in my yard (at least not with any consistency) since he left in April.

I went for a walk this morning and saw some Song Sparrows getting in to it along Etolin Street. The recording above is one singing in the Donnelley’s yard, it had been trading songs with another one across the street. I even saw them have a brief physical skirmish sort of in the middle of the road. It seems like there are quite a few more Song Sparrows along Etolin Street than in the immediate vicinity of my house. I suspect it’s because there is better habitat for them (in the form of more shrubs).

Down at the park I saw a Northern Pintail and a Black-bellied Plover. I didn’t find the Marbled Godwit I saw yesterday evening. I also heard at least one Golden-crowned Kinglet singing as well as a Pacific Wren and multiple Varied Thrushes.

A fairly full day didn’t see me spend much time outside. It was mostly cloudy or overcast throughout the day, and we even got a bit of light rain, our first in a week or so, but only just enough to make the ground wet. I stepped outside this evening and snapped a photo of the Verstovia with the clouds nearly gone from the peak. I also took pictures of two of the several sparrows that continue to hangout among the crab pots in the neighbor’s yard.

I suspect the Song Sparrow(s) that have been there recently are first year birds or females. I have heard one singing, but not the full-on songs from a prominent perch like I’ve been hearing elsewhere in the neighborhood and beyond. The singing has been a more continuous sort – maybe a whisper song? Though it’s quieter than the regular songs, it’s not exactly a whisper. I’m not sure how quiet whisper songs typically are, though. Maybe stage whispers count.

Speaking of Song Sparrows, I checked on my observations for the year and I’m up to 149. Well short of the pace for 1000 by year’s end, but the pace has picked up in the last couple of weeks with all the singing birds. No doubt things will slow down dramatically by late fall, so if I have a hope of getting to my target, I’ll need to get a lot of observations in over the next few months. I started a map with notes on the Song Sparrows I’ve been observing and have been updating it regularly.

Song Sparrow Map

On the 1000 species front, I probably have a similar number so far, but I’ve not been keeping careful count yet, and have many observations (with photos) I need to get recorded.

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The clouds were breaking up over Verstovia when I looked out this evening.

I think this Golden-crowned Sparrow is a first year bird. It may be the one that has been singing frequently for several days.

Two of the sparrows that have been hanging out in the neighborhood recently.

Inspired by one of the shares on this morning’s call as well as last week’s exercise, I asked the kids to come up with the rules for playing “The Owl Game”. They/we came up with a hide-and-seek type of game where the Owl (seeker) looks for prey (hiders). Since owls hunt by sound, the prey must make little noises (perhaps rustling paper). We didn’t flesh out all the details, but thought it should take place in the dark, and perhaps blindfolded (though the latter might be for more advanced play). We’ve not had a chance to try it yet, but I’m sure we will.

This week’s assignment is to start getting to know some neighborhood birds, preferably ground feeders. I have already been trying to pay more attention to the Song Sparrow(s) that seem to spend a fair amount of time along either side of the fence line south of the house (see photo below from early January). Dark-eyed Juncos are pretty frequent visitors to the yard as well. In the past I’ve heard Winter Wrens, but not lately, and I’m not sure whether that’s because they are being quiet or if there are not any around the yard currently. One of the questions we were asked to consider is where the birds sleep. Not sure if I will be able to figure that out or not as I’m pretty sure the juncos don’t sleep in the yard (I routinely see them flying north/northeast in the late afternoon), however my guess is the Song Sparrow does sleep somewhere close.

Several snow showers moved through today separated by brief clouds breaks with some sun. It was interesting to watch the snow swirl around as the wind blew it over/off the house in various directions.

Didn’t really get outside much to speak of today, though I did step out to enjoy one of the cloud breaks (and saw a hummingbird flying off to the south). I also noticed a few juncos moving through a bit after 3pm.

Earlier this winter we also had an Oregon junco without a tail. Has anyone else seen these or other birds without tails? Any thoughts on why these birds are missing a tail? It doesn’t seem to affect their flight, or ability to feed.

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While visiting Low Island recently, I was able to observe and record this Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) singing. It sounded a bit different than the sparrows I’ve been hearing around town – I guess I should try to record some of them for comparison.

Brant (Branta bernicla) and Black Turnstones (Arenaria melanocephala) can be heard a couple of times, and towards the end, some Black Oystercatchers (Haematopus bachmani) start raising a ruckus as well. The surf crashing up on the shore in the distance behind me is present throughout.

Recording was made with a Sony PCM-M10 which I held in hand. There was only a very light breeze, but without any wind protection to speak of, there’s still a little bit of wind noise.

Time of sit: 7:45-8:05pm

The neighbors appeared to be having a get together, as there were 7 or 8 additional cars parked along the drive during my sit. However, they were all inside and the neighborhood was quiet. There seemed to be little or no breeze, and while I could hear some birds, they were all in the distance. The only close sounds I heard were the rhythmic dripping of water from the roof where the remains of last night’s couple inches of snow were continuing to melt.

In the distance I heard Varied Thrush both northwest as well as to the south and southeast. What robins I heard seemed to be northwest quite some distance away, and at one point I also heard a Song Sparrow singing from that way. Any gulls that might have been down near the entrance to the park were quiet, but I could hear gulls from downtown. About mid-way through my sit something flushed many gulls off the buildings downtown where they like to hangout, and I saw them flying southeast toward the park.

I’m not sure why it was so quiet around the neighborhood proper this evening, but shortly after I went back inside I did hear a robin singing in the backyard. It seems plausible that it was the same robin I listened to last night.

Spent another evening just post sunset. Birds were a bit more vocal this evening. I could easily hear many gulls south of me on the beach near Totem Park. They were more vocal than yesterday and I wondered if perhaps some herring were getting stranded on the outgoing tide.

A robin was singing for a good chunk of the time I was sitting. I could hear it to the northwest, further away and in a different direction than the one singing last night. I could not say whether it was the same bird or not. One thing I did notice was the singing seemed more mellow without the strident sort of angry sounding tone and cadence that I was hearing last night. It occurred to me that it could be the greater distance, or perhaps there was some sort of resonance/harsh echoes that were coloring my perception of the bird last night, or it may have just been a particularly aggressive feeling robin.

There was some activity in the Song Sparrow hedge across the drive. I first noticed a single bird feeding close to the southeast side of the hedge for a brief period of time. Shortly after I noticed it, it returned its cover. It started to alarm (or at least that’s how I interpreted it), but not in a particularly strident fashion. After a few moments I could hear a second Song Sparrow giving the same chirping alarm call down the hill south of me. The alarms went on for a couple minutes or so, I think – though I didn’t time them. When they stopped alarming I noticed a couple of Bald Eagles that had been sitting close together in the tops of Western Hemlocks (Tsuga heterophylla) were gone. I had neither heard nor seen them take off, so was not sure when it happened, but I wondered if that’s what had prompted the feeding Song Sparrow to return to the hedge and follow up with a bit of an alarm.

Later there were a couple of Song Sparrows doing a little chasing around the hedge. I saw one fly off to the northwest of the hedge, and another do a longer loop. I think there may have been three different sparrows, but I only ever saw two at a time, so I’m not positive.

Time of sit: 7:45-8:10pm

The sun had set shortly before I began my sit on the front step. Skies had cleared a bit after overcast conditions earlier, so there was still plenty of light left in the day. It started out fairly quiet around he neighborhood, though I could hear the gulls going at it down along the beach – I think they were still finding herring to feed on (the first spawn had started down there this morning). I was tempted to walk down and take a look, but decided to maintain my sit instead.

Wind was very light. I could see smoke from the neighbor’s woodstove drifting north, then later east, but none of the tree branches were moving. Temperatures were cool, but not cold, and I could strongly smell the scent of yellow cedar from Connor’s cedar bark materials still sitting on the porch.

About half way into my sit, a robin started calling. At first I had trouble placing it’s location as I was confused by the sound barrier of the house and the echoing calls. After a short time it moved a little bit and I realized it was north of my position (behind the house relative to me) – in a similar location where I heard my first robin singing of the spring last Saturday evening. Prior to singing the robin let out a few explosive bursts of chirps. When it finally got into singing, the song felt a bit aggressive/belligerent to me. Short, almost angry sounding phrases, with brief breaks in between. Perhaps this is the normal style of song for robins, but I don’t remember hearing them sound like this before, so I guess I’ll try to pay more attention as spring moves on. After a few minutes of singing, the robin was less constantly vocalizing, but still every so often would shout out another explosive set of chirps – this continued even after I went inside.

I don’t remember hearing any nearby song birds prior to the robin calling, but once it started, a Song Sparrow that seems to live in the cedar hedge across the drive (just south of west from my porch) made a few chirps. It almost seemed as though it could have been in response to the robin’s comments. A little later, shortly before I went inside, a couple of different times I heard a bird fluttering in the dense branches of that hedge followed by a bird popping out and flying a short loop back to the hedge accompanied by some chirping calls that might have seemed a little annoyed. It made me think there was probably more than one bird in there, and they were getting agitated about sleeping arrangements or something.

There was also a Pacific Wren that sang a couple of songs at widely spaced intervals, but it was down the hill to the southwest. I suppose it’s possible that it sang partially in response to hearing the robin sing, but I don’t really know.

This March has seemed quite dry, with cold temperatures early on and warming later in the month (though still freezing at night). Looking back at the March 2011 weather record for the Sitka Airport, it looks like the cold weather was mostly in February, with only a day or two of particularly frigid conditions. It has been exceptionally dry, however. Rain is falling now and nearly 1/3 of an inch has accumulated in the 3 hours since midnight, but even so – only 1.17 inches has fallen so far (including so far today) and it’s highly unlikely another 4.5 inches will fall in the next 45 hours to bring the total up the the 5.78 inch long-term monthly average. Lack of rain along with relatively cool temperatures have resulted in low levels at both hydro facilities, so the city as asked citizens to reduce power consumption to avoid running the large diesel generators used to supplement power when necessary. Hopefully the current rains help alleviate that problem somewhat.

It seems like many things are running a little late this year as compared to the recent past. I have not seen any wild flowers blooming, but with the recent warmer temperatures and sun, I expect to find blueberries or salmonberries in flower any day. Insects have started showing up – I saw a Snow Sedge (Psychoglypha sp) flying around within the last couple of days. There have also been other flies I do not yet know how to identify.

Herring are starting to mature, and it’s likely the first opening will happen today or tomorrow, at least a week after last year’s. Perhaps they have been waiting for ‘herring weather’ – the mix of snow/rain/sleet/hail/sun/wind changing every 5 minutes that seems to often mark the herring spawn. Until this point it’s been mild with partly to mostly cloudy skies, relatively light winds and little precipitation of any form. The forecast indicates wind, rain, and possibly snow in the forecast through the end of the week. In any case, there are many whales, sea lions, seals, eagles, gulls, and other birds cruising the near shore waters looking for herring schools to feast on. It’s a fun time to be out near the water watching the activity – Connor said a whale even came up close to Sage Rock this morning.

On the bird front – Song Sparrows have started singing in earnest. I was out at 5:30am last week and was surprised to hear so many singing around town well before sunrise. Migrants so far consist of gulls and robins. It would be interesting to know where all the robins that have showed up recently spent the winter, but it certainly seems like more are around in the last week or so, so I believe they have come from somewhere south. I think Dark-eyed Juncos have started to disperse, as I’m not seeing flocks of them as commonly around the neighborhood.

The forecast was for cloudy to mostly cloudy skies with a chance of snow. Instead it ended up partly cloudy with the sun only occasionally being partly obscured by a small cloud. After lunch I was thinking the kids and I would go for a walk around the park, but the sun was nicely warming a spot on the beach protected from the light breeze, and I couldn’t resist sitting down on a rock and enjoying the feeling of the sun warming my skin. (In actuality, I gave the kids the choice to walk around and hang out near the park entrance. However it was pretty much a foregone conclusion they would want to hang out, they are usually reluctant to walk around the park, preferring instead to catch bullheads in the tide pools near the visitor center.)

In a group mentoring call series I am a part of, we have been challenged to use what is called the ‘story teller’s mind’ to try and capture a full sensory experience and be able to retell it later. (An attentive mentor will be able to listen to these stories and start to notice patterns of emphasis and/or gaps in awareness, and over time subtly draw the teller in a fuller awareness by asking questions about things that might have escaped attention.) While relaxing down at the beach today, I tried to bring my full attention to bear on my surroundings and will attempt to recreate the experience in words. I’ll say up front that I’m not super good at this yet, as I have a tendency to pull back into my thoughts in general (and this afternoon was no different), and today I’m pretty sure I dozed off for at least a couple of minutes once or twice.

The sun is in the south as I try to decide where to sit. I want a place that is relatively comfortable, dry, and not subject to even the light breeze that is moving across the tide flats to the southeast. There’s a drift log stranded high on the rocks – each end perched on a bed rock outcrop, the central part suspended a couple of feet above baseball-sized and smaller rocks worn round and smooth by the tumbling action of waves over time. This log has been here for many years – I have memories of it going back to my childhood. I reflect briefly on searching for beach glass in the cobbles under it while I was in elementary school. I consider sitting on the cobbles in front of the log, but between the drips of snow-melt falling regularly along the length of the log, and still significant moisture just below the sun-dried surface rocks, I decide it’s unlikely I would be able to stay dry there. Instead, I find a spot on the bedrock outcrop where it is dry, I can recline reasonably comfortably, and yet I’m not out too far so that I catch the cooling puffs of wind.

The bedrock is cool to the touch. Rough edges have been rounded and smoothed, but there are still angular joints where, at some point in the long distant past, a chunk of rock cracked from the main body and was eventually removed. It’s in one of these spots I choose to sit facing between South and West (I can’t remember precisely, but I think it was SW or maybe closer to WSW). I rolled up my pant legs and turned my head to get the full sun on my face. The warming of my skin from the sun’s radiation was greater than any heat I gave up to the still cool air, and I closed my eyes to relax and enjoy the feeling.

The branches of a spruce tree growing up from just above the beach behind me extended out to a point a few feet above me. I heard and felt an occasional drop of water from the snow melting out between the needles. I could hear the high-pitched contact calls of Golden-crowned Kinglets foraging for insects in those branches, while on the ground closer to the trunk I could hear an equally high-pitched single note repeated sporadically by a sparrow (later confirmed to be a Song Sparrow). Somewhere in the west to northwest a little distance away, I could hear a crossbill singing. It did not seem to be a full song, so I don’t recall noticing the call notes of a foraging flock, so I don’t know if this might have been a young male practicing his song while looking for territory, or what.

The tide was out a fair bit and seemed to be falling, so between me and the ocean was a fair distance of exposed flats. I noticed silhouettes of gulls and ducks out just offshore, but the bright sunlight and distance didn’t inspire me to work too hard to confirm any identities. While there was little or no surface chop close to shore, small remnants of the large swells that move through the sound lapped against the shore (I think I could hear them, I can’t recall specifically). Rowan spent much of the time squatted down intently looking for bullheads in a tidepool southeast of my position. A short distance behind me past a small patch of trees, the overall quiet was disturbed from time to time by a passing vehicle on the road.

I’m sure there must have been odors to smell, but I don’t remember noticing any at the time – especially considering the exposed beach and small bits of seaweed and such that were pushed up by the high tide.

Overall, it felt like a pretty relaxed time. I don’t recall feeling like there was any tension in the air, even though I heard a Song Sparrow alarm a couple of times, I think that was more territorial squabbling or mild agitation at passers-by on the sidewalk.

There are other details I recall – the spider crawling up my jacket that I watched closely for a moment after I got it to crawl on my hand – a fly or two landing on the rocks – people walking their dogs along the park trail – but I think I’ll leave it at that.

Later in the day I stopped by Swan Lake briefly. Most of the previously open water had slushed over, but there was still a sizable opening near the peninsula. In addition to the usual assortment Mallards, there were also 5 Ring-necked Ducks, 4 or so Lesser Scaup, and 3 American Wigeons.

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The snow covered Sisters and Verstovia form a scenic backdrop behind Swan Lake.

The peak of Verstovia points up to the moon above.

The outcrop was basically a cliff that seemed to go well below the bay’s surface. It was a good thing it was high tide, or I probably would not have been able to get off and look around at all. During the course of my visit, I walked a short distance along a ledge that varied from a couple of feet to several feet wide, bare rock in some places with a fair amount of vegetation growing in others.

In the first spot of vegetation I came to, I noticed a handful of empty limpet shells scattered over a small area on a carpet of moss protected by the trees and shrubs growing there. A few feet away, I noticed another shell on top of a very small ledge a foot or two off the main ledge I was standing on. I had a bit of curiosity about the shells, but was mainly focused on looking for different-seeming plants, so I only paused briefly to consider the shells and did not take any pictures.

I continued walking down the ledge a little bit further before turning around. At one point I noticed a small dark brown bird fly along the base of the cliff below me, but I had not noticed any other obvious (to me) bird sign on the ledge.. I looked at the shells as I neared my pick up spot, but by this time I had my hands full with rock fragments and bryophyte collections, so it did not seem worth it to take the time to put it all down and take a picture of the shells and their context.

Of course it wasn’t long after leaving the cliffs and heading back into town that the limpet shell mystery started to dominate my thinking about the place. I was kicking myself for not taking some pictures, it would have only taken a minute or so, and I knew this was a location I would not be likely to get back to soon. It’s not that the photos would necessarily have helped me solve the mystery, but they would have made it easier to verify my memories of some of the details and check for things I might not have noticed at that time. Plus it would have been nice to illustrate this blog post (which is one of only a few that don’t have photo illustrations) to give others a better chance to offer suggestions as to what the shells may have been saying.

If anyone has thoughts/ideas about the shells and how they came to rest where they were, I would be interested in hearing them. I will share my own theories in a follow-up post.

This Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) appeared to eat from the salmonberry buds.

While walking along the sidewalk adjacent to Crescent Harbor last week, I happened to catch sight of something brown and not vegetation-like in the salmonberry bushes growing beside the path ahead of me. I managed to stop before I flushed the Song Sparrow perched on one of the branches. As I watched, the bird chewed on a swollen green bud that appeared close to opening.

Although I tend to think of Song Sparrows as ground-feeding seed eaters, I have on a previous occasion noted a Song Sparrow eating the still-green seeds of saltbrush (Atriplex gmelinii). Prior to this individual, I do not remember seeing a Song Sparrow eating greens, however.

I continued to watch, and the sparrow sang a little bit, but not its full song, as it kept its bill mostly closed, though I could see its throat moving in time with the soft chirps and trills. After a little bit of singing, it moved up the branch and really went after one of the buds. Shortly after this, I caught sight of a quickly moving bird down in the rocks. The Song Sparrow in the bushes noticed also, and directed his attention toward where the second bird had flown. Upon seeing the second bird appear again from the rocks, the first one flew down to the rocks as well.

I took a look at the branch where I had seen the Song Sparrow chewing at the buds. Despite the vigor with which it appeared the bird was chewing, the marks seemed subtle to my eyes. I took a photo of the bud that appeared to have the most obvious damage, but even that I suspect I would find difficult to notice unless I looked for it specifically.

This salmonberry bud (Rubus spectabilis) was one that had been chewed on by the Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia).

Curious about the eating habits of Song Sparrows, I looked up the food habits of Song Sparrows on the Birds of North America Online Song Sparrow account. From that I see they also frequently consume invertebrates and fruits (which does not surprise me, I probably should have realized that myself). However, it does not mention them eating greens.

Update: Someone pointed out to me that insect larvae could utilize the buds, and perhaps the Song Sparrow was going after them. I’ve not noticed such insect larvae (or evidence thereof), but that’s probably because I haven’t been looking.

Yesterday I did not feel all that great after a relatively poor night of sleep, though I did stop by Swan Lake briefly and get out on a walk to the park with Connor.

Today I stopped by Swan Lake this morning after dropping Connor off at school. I also stopped by Centennial Building and to look around on my way home. Late this morning I took advantage of pleasant weather to go for a walk to Totem Park.

Weather: Yesterday was rainy and a bit breezy. Snow level dropped to about 2900 feet or so. Today it started out overcast, but became partly cloudy for much of the late morning and early afternoon. Clouds moved in again later in the afternoon, though I did not notice any rain. This evening after sunset there were clear skies over town. The temperature this morning was near 40, and the snow level behind town was probably around 2700 feet. Mt. Edgecumbe was mostly covered in clouds when I looked, but what I could see through the breaks appeared to have no snow, despite the crater rim’s elevation being between 2800 and 3200 feet in elevation. Perhaps the far side (which is the higher part) had snow, or it was just warmer out there.

Birds: Yesterday the two scaups were still at Swan Lake. I also saw three American Wigeons, and the Cackling Goose. At Totem Park we noted the Ruddy Turnstone, American Pipits, Savannah Sparrows and the Spotted Sandpiper.

This morning at Swan Lake I saw two American Wigeons, two Greater Scaups, a Hooded Merganser (on the HPR side of the lake), and the Cackling Goose.

On the rocks near the Crescent Harbor boat ramp, there were quite a few Black Turnstones and Surfbirds. They alternated between the rocks just inside the breakwater, the rocks on the outside of the breakwater, and the rocks across the Kettleson Library cove. There were probably more than 100 birds in total, with most of them Black Turnstones. I saw perhaps 10 Surfbirds.

As I was leaving the house for my walk, I noticed two Song Sparrows singing back and forth. One was by Austin House, the other in the large elderberry just down the drive. I think the sunshine brought out the urge to sing, as I heard more Song Sparrows singing down along the beach also.

There were quite a few Black Turnstones and a few gulls at Sage Beach. There were also several Harlequin Ducks.

I think I saw a couple of Red-necked Grebes out in Crescent Bay.

There was a Hermit Thrush along the beach at the same place where one seemed to join me for a time on my walk a couple of days ago. A little further up the beach I saw two more Hermit Thrushes. Later I also saw another Hermit Thrush in the woods near the trail as it nears the bridge across the river.

There were quite a few Savannah Sparrows and not quite as many Song Sparrows scatter about foraging at the upper part of the beach.

I do not know if it’s coincidental timing or not, but the number of gulls at Totem Park has been much less in the few days since I saw the goshawk kill the gull. At first I thought it might be because I was visiting at high tides, but today the tide was out a bit and there were still far fewer gulls. There are fewer salmon carcasses on the beach, but most of the gulls on the beach before were not eating at the time anyway. Today I saw perhaps a couple of hundred gulls in 2 or 3 flocks at different places on the tide flats. I saw some Black-legged Kittiwakes out from the beach between the Battlesite and the River Mouth.

At the river mouth there were 50+ Harlequin Ducks, 5 Northern Pintails, a Green-winged Teal, several Mallards, 4 Barrow’s Goldeneye, and around 15 Surf Scoters. The goldeneyes were the first I have seen this fall. Six Common Mergansers flew up to the river while I was watching, but by the time I got up there, I only saw 2 diving at the lower part of the estuary. I was interested to see a Northern Pintail diving with them. I think of pintails as dabbling ducks, so it was strange to see this one diving, presumably for salmon eggs. It seemed to require more effort to get underwater than the mergansers did.

There were quite a few gulls in the estuary and river, but still not as many as I had seen last week and before.

On my walk around the flats I also saw several Pelagic Cormorants and I think one Double-crested Cormorant.

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