Now I remember why I used to enjoy visiting Discovery Park (Seattle) in the
spring. It sure is a lively place for birding.
Has anybody been quantifying the increase in Anna's Hummingbirds there? In
1987, I remember getting my life Anna's at a "traditional" spot near the north
overlook adjacent to Daybreak Star, but otherwise not seeing any Anna's
elsewhere in the park. Yesterday they were around almost every location on our
walk from the north parking lot to Daybreak Star to the west end of North
Bluff.
Rufous Hummers were present, too, but a challenge to spot. We heard a display,
but didn't see the circling male, and often heard others flying over patches of
salmonberry and Indian-plum. We spied one perched on a tree tip to give us a
very satisfying hummingbird day.
Managed to *see* a Hutton's Vireo, although my look was poorer than my
partner's; I hear quite well, but have a tough time pinpointing the source of
some songs.
The highlight of my day brought to mind the Tweeters discussion on writing
descriptions of birds for practice and experience...
We were just leaving south beach and were walking past the sand bluff near the
West Point treatment plant. A song sparrow circled us broadly and landed at the
base of the bluff and a robin flew from the shrubs across the path in front of
us. (Discovery Park always seems like robin headquarters to me; how many
hundreds are there?)
Halfway up the sandy face of the bluff, a pale bird caught my eye--a
"bleached" robin. It landed with its back to us and I affirmed that the
upperparts were two shades paler than the palest female robin I had seen on the
day. My notes read "very pale charcoal", but "ashy brown" might be better. The
nape was darker, as I would expect on a robin. The tail was the standout
feature from this angle. It was very dark brown, close to black, and relatively
glossy in appearance. It also seemed disproportionately long for a robin. My
pulse accelerated.
After a while, the bird flitted suddenly from its perch, wheeled across the
face of the bluff, and came to another landing, this time in profile. Aha! Not
a robin!
The bill was broad and all dark. The forehead gently sloped up from it to a
"peak" at the back of the crown.
The breast was pale grayish brown, fading to pale buff-orange on the belly, a
color again reminiscent of a super-pale robin breast. The undertail coverts
were dark, but I didn't see them well.
Over the next few minutes, we watched the bird sally out from the bluff and
return to perches for extended stays. While it was perched, it habitually
flicked or pumped its tail.
I scribbled some notes and directed Christina to a certain page in the field
guide, where she found an illustration of this species. I let her know this was
a "good" find, even though I think she had already come to this conclusion from
my response to the bird.
While I had been writing, the object of our attention apparently had worked
its way eastward and away from our spot, so we didn't see it again.
--
Scott Richardson
northeast Seattle
salix at halcyon.com
http://www.halcyon.com/salix/
(updated March 24)