Purple Finch: Male and Female

In my last posting, I mentioned photographing a few Purple Finches. Of those photos, I've chosen to display this image of a male and female Purple Finch because it beautifully demonstrates what it means to say a bird species is "dimorphic" (meaning the sexes are different in appearance). Of course, many other bird species are "monomorphic" or similar in appearance, but today let's look at the example of the Purple Finch--a dimorphic species.

When learning to identify birds, I made the mistake that all new birders (and even seasoned birders) sometimes make--trying to identify the female of some dimorphic species as a different species all together. Looking at these two seed-loving finches, you can easily understand why. Having happily identified his/her first Purple Finch (who looks more cranberry-colored to me), the new birder might easily become mystified when a week later encountering a streaked brown and buff bird.

"Must be some kind of sparrow" was most likely my response when first spying the female Purple Finch. And why not?

I ask you this: Does the female have purple (or cranberry) plumage? No. And yet the species is named after the more colorful male. No wonder it's easy to get confused. Ha!

So whenever you see a brilliantly-colored male, look around for his less showy mate. The species you've identified just might be dimorphic.

Till next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne Butler

Indigo Bunting & Chipping Sparrow

Moments ago, I sat outside with my camera waiting to capture photos of birds visiting for the evening meal at the seed tray (black-oil sunflower). As always my presence was not welcomed, only tolerated. It didn't take long, however, for a few brave souls to risk the situation, in particular, a few Purple Finches. (I'll write about these for another post.)

I caught a few photos of the finches when I noticed the starkly blue Indigo Bunting fly in to the ornamental dogwood behind the feeder. As the Indigo is such a brilliant blue, I didn't look hard or long to snap a quick photo (see my earlier posts on the Indigo--June 9, 2009, and again, for an audio of his song, on July 3, 2009).

When viewing these images through my computer's browser window, imagine my surprise when I discovered not only had I an image of the visiting bunting but also that of a handsome Chipping Sparrow. (Did I mention I need glasses? Ha!)

Life is full of such pleasant surprises.

Till next time . . . keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne Butler

Gray Catbird in the Bush

Last evening I posted on a recent experience with a Northern Mockingbird and a Gray Catbird. At the time I tried to get a photo of the catbird but failed. Or so I thought. The image I captured was more bush than bird and so I missed this gray beauty hiding among the gray branches. This morning when I scanned recent photos, the catbird caught me by surprise! I cropped the original image for you . . .

By the way, today I woke to a catbird's patchwork quilt of songs. I wonder if those songs belonged to this guy?

Till next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne

Members of the Mimidae Family Move In

This spring my hillside grove of wild cherry trees (with hedgerows of multifloral rose) are hosting Gray Catbirds
and Northern Mockingbirds. (Public Domain photos.) Both catbird and mockingbird are members of the family Mimidae--birds with a talent for impersonating other birds.

Just yesterday morning I listened to a gregarious mockingbird, atop a walnut tree, singing an array of whistles, trills, warbles, and chipping sounds--bits and pieces from other birds' songs. In the rolling collection, I caught the complete phrase of the Eastern Towhee
Drink your tea, which the mockingbird repeated, true to form, at least three times before moving on.

Now imagine, if you can, both the mockingbird and catbird serving up their best impersonations--at the same time. How can I explain it? I guess I can't . . . though from the catbird's repertoire I did catch the chip-burr phrase of a Scarlet Tanager.

The catbird is known for its cat-like "mewing," a sound of its very own. But you might wonder how a person could ever distinguish these two mimics' apart since they're mostly imitating other birds. One way is this: the mockingbird repeats his stolen notes or phrases up to six times while the catbird typically sings each note or phrase once, twice, maybe three times. And, of course, there's the catbird's distinctive "mewing," which you'll hear when walking by dense thickets and shrubs.

Birding by ear can get pretty confusing with two members of the family Mimidae hanging around. All I need now is for the Brown Thrasher (another Mimidae family member) to visit. Ha!

Till next time . . . Keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne

Tyrannus tyrannus: Eastern Kingbird

I seldom use a bird's Latin (or scientific) name when posting but I could hardly help myself with the Eastern Kingbird. Who, for instance, could forget Tyrannus tyrannus? Makes me think of Tyrannosaurus rex, which, when you recall that birds are descendants of dinosaurs, isn't such an odd association.

So why do I write about Tyrannus tyrannus (genus name first; species name second) a large, distinguished-looking gray and white flycatcher? Mainly because I've discovered a pair who appear to be nesting on my property.

For the last several mornings, the dogs, cat, and I have intercepted two of these handsome birds (notice the black trim on the tail (photo courtesy of Charles H. Warren) during our morning stroll around the fenced area of my property. Oddly enough, each morning, I've seen both birds in about the same location, which makes me suspect a nest somewhere on the tree-covered hillside leading up to a large pasture.

Though Eastern Flycatchers are common enough (population-wise . . . no bird is "common"), I haven't noticed them on my property before and so am feeling quite privileged for their company now.

As their name indicates, Eastern Flycatchers eat insects during the summer but while wintering in the Amazon prefer fruit. In a quick visit to the birding resource web site All About Birds, I also learned that the flycatchers are quite aggressive about defending their territory. Maybe they have more in common with Tyrannosaurus rex than I though? Ha!

Perhaps one morning I'll leave the dogs behind and try to sneak up on my visiting pair of kingbirds. We'll see.

Till then . . . Keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne

Before there were chimneys . . .

While canoeing Bayou DeView (in southeast Arkansas), our group was delighted with the music of songbirds and glimpses of brilliant birds darting through the understory or flying through the tree canopies (see my last post of April 28 on the Prothonotary Warble).

Of course, we saw a variety of birds, like beautiful Wood Ducks (who breed in this bayou), and I won't soon forget the image of a Great Blue Heron flying toward us from a spur off the bayou. Watching this majestic bird ply its way low over the water and through the sun-dappled trees was thrilling, so you can imagine our surprise when seeing another heron following in the wake of the first.

Of those birds we saw and heard, the most numerous were the Prothonotary Warblers, Blue-Gray Gnatcatchers, Wood Ducks, Red-winged Blackbirds, and Chimney Swifts. And of these the most visible were the swifts, a"blackish swallowlike bird with long, slightly curved, stiff wings and no apparent tail (unless spread)" (Tory Peterson).

When not nesting or roosting at night, Chimney Swifts spend their time flying. And my experience of them was more a sense of their numbers and movement through the sky as dark, gliding silhouettes, weaving intricate patterns high above tree canopies. Their darting, swift flight while catching small insects is sometimes described as "batlike." And unlike most birds that that sit on perches, Chimney Swifts cling with long claws (also batlike) to the side of chimneys or other vertical surfaces (read additional Cool Facts about the Chimney Swift at All About Birds, a web site hosted by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology).

When Europeans began to colonize America, Chimney Swifts discovered their chimneys. And gradually they adopted these brick or stone structures for their nesting sites. Personally, I'm not accustomed to seeing or hearing Chimney Swifts anywhere but in or nearby a town, so seeing so many in the wilderness took me by surprise. That's when one of our group told me that woodlands were the ancestral home of this swift--wherever there were hollow trees and/or caves. And there's no better place than a swamp with trees hundreds of years old (and thus many dying or dead from age) to find hollow treetops.

And one last note: each mating pair occupies one hollow tree. I suppose these birds are akin to people in that preference for their own "home."

Till next time . . . if you live in town or city, look up into the sky at dusk and see if you've Chimney Swifts keeping the insect population under control . . . and keep birds in your heart!

Georgia Anne