This gallery contains 9 photos.
Sparrowfeeding season! Let me get the impulse to snap the new arrivals at their dinners out of my system, today — then, I’ll keep the gaping beaks to a minimum, I swear. More evidence that some species of birds, at least, can tell us apart, and judge us frightening or … Continue reading
Birdly highlights, from this past weekend:
Saturday: A question for the person who hit (or almost hit) a bald eagle, today, while flying over False Creek in a seaplane — are you and your aircraft all right? Did you splat the bird, or narrowly avoid it? I couldn’t see it any more, after your trajectories converged, but maybe it dove to safety. Or maybe your propeller turned it to a fine, eagle-flavoured mist. Either way, I do hope you landed without incident. Bird strikes are the worst. I heard about one incident where pelican parts ended up IN THE COCKPIT! (Or maybe they were ibis parts. Crane parts. Some sort of large waterbird parts — talk about gruesome! Anyway, I hope nothing like that happened to you. I hope you didn’t have to land with a bald eagle’s bald head in your lap. Because that would be nasty. And you might get in trouble. I don’t think you’re supposed to kill those. I think they’re, y’know, a protected species.)
Sunday: Now, this is for my Bay Area friend, with the noisy nightrobin: I’VE GOT ONE, TOO! Four twenty-two this morning, and:
No-one is up! Not even another robin! Stop bawking. Stop bawking!
Possibly the culprit (but probably not). These little fellows are everywhere, lately.
Monday: The gull staged an all-out assault on my feeder. Behold its lack of fear:
Shortly after this clip was shot, the gull came back. I stuck my arm out the window to wave it off, much as I always do. Ordinarily, this would result in the gull snatching a beakful of seed and flapping off with it — but this time, it tried for a beakful of ME! It tried to peck my finger! What a pest! Fortunately, it missed. Nobody likes bird germs.
Early this morning (around seven o’clock):
This little sparrow initially overshot its landing, and flew into my bedroom. I was not pleased to see it. Birds are grubby, and do not belong indoors. But the poor mite was too small and confused to shoo. It sat on my elliptical machine, looking like it had no idea where it was, or what had gone wrong. The way it was staring at me, feathers fluffed, beak open, it seemed apt to panic and fly into the glass, at the slightest disturbance. So I waited and watched, and soon its father arrived, and began to cheep. The little sparrow flew back out, and enjoyed a regurgitated snack.
There you go.
Enjoying your breakfast, sparrow?
Waiting to be fed.
Unwanted ingressions aside, it’s good to see the first of a fresh crop of sparrows, learning to eat at my feeder. I really need a screen, for that window!
