Watching the Watcher
33 and cloudy and still. Still, I sit in a puddle from some passing shower last night, and curse. (I forgot to stow the chair.)
Flight calls I can’t identify—too high, too fast, too faint. A single Mallard over, and the Mourning Dove that is becoming a regular, emerging from its roost off Bald Eagle Avenue on the other side of the creek and heading to its first bird feeder. The junkyard raven starts up its sequence of honking. All this before 7.
The raven flies up to the freeway light at 7:04, and the chickadees and cardinal are already making noise. House Finches are out early, too, singing while they fly. Then the first group of Rock Pigeons goes up, and all lapses into silence and immobility again.
After 10 minutes of nothing, an American Crow caws, and the first starling arrives. Soon after, at 7:22, Tufted Titmice and Black-capped Chickadees get active, and louder than I’ve heard them this early. As usual, they’re somewhere in the trees along the river near the confluence. The titmouse emits its alarm call, over and over. Not long thereafter, a White-breasted Nuthatch begins to call.
At the half hour it’s still darkish, and few birds are moving. A single starling arrives and begins to wheel about, emitting it’s ‘pip’ call, which seems to be indicate it is searching for others.
Then a Cooper’s Hawk calls twice, and a few more times, intermittently. A few minutes later, I realize the Cooper’s Hawk is sitting placidly in the large 1 o’clock sycamore, toward the left side, facing west in my direction.
The titmice and chickadees never appear, but a titmouse continues to raise the alarm. No starlings come to perch in the sycamore as they would normally do, but otherwise they don’t seem too concerned. A House Finch sings from a hidden perch nearby. I’ve noticed they’re spending a lot of time in pairs, just like the starlings are doing. It’s never too early, I guess.
As the Cooper’s Hawk continues its vigil and I continue mine, a Downy Woodpecker wakes up and starts calling, around 7:46. The hawk screeches now and again, but besides swiveling its head about as often as I do, I think to keep track of the self-same birds, it never moves. At 7:49, the Downy has worked its way to the top of the dead tree between me and the interstate, as it often does, then takes off calling, to the north, away from the hawk. Just then, a Northern Cardinal does a simple song.
The tallest poplar at my one between Bald Eagle Avenue and Bald Eagle Creek is the main perch spot for a growing dawn congregation. Starlings, House Sparrows, and House Finches come and go, and an American Robin has joined them and begun to exclaim.
The Cooper’s Hawk hasn’t moved by just before eight when I head to work.
The species count is 17 this dawn. The baseline seems to have moved up a notch or two in the last week.
Temperatures climb into the 50s today, and with them, a high winding warning: ‘URGENT’ exclaims the National Weather Service. In a short bit of time between late afternoon events I hit the balcony, but the gale has not yet arrived.
At almost 6 I glance out after doing the dishes; Rock Pigeons are still up and about. Three large waterfowl are heading into the Gap, too late to ID: the ones that got away (99% certain they were Canadas). I wasn’t expecting birds out this late today, but there you have it.