Category Archives: Backyard Birds

One of those mundane sorts of days, today: the most interesting bird I saw was an American robin, and I didn’t even get a picture. (This was thanks to some COMPLETE NIT flashing his camera at it, as the sun blazed down from a cloudless noonday sky. Figures, the one time I run across another birder, he’s an absolute div. If you’ve stumbled upon this, robin-flasher, shame on you. Shame, shame, shame. Don’t, erm, overexpose yourself at the birds. (Haw, haw.))

I did get up close and personal with a gull, however, and I thought to myself, “ey, why not take a page out of Corey’s book, over at 10,000 Birds, and take full advantage of this pest?” So I cosied right up to it, and took as many pictures as I could of its creepy gullie eyes. Ever get a close look at those things? Check out the lashes on that! I mean, I know they haven’t got eyelashes, in the sense we do, but they’ve got something going on. They look like they’re growing spiderwebs round their eyesockets!

Dreadful; just dreadful! (I think I can see my own reflection, in a couple of those eyes.)

After exchanging a good half-hour’s worth of soul-deep stares with the gull, I snapped a couple of feather shots, and went inside. I let the gull use my feeder for ten minutes, before waving it on its way. It deserved a treat, after such a long and patient wait…but it didn’t deserve every last seed in the tray!

Don’t you want to touch these feathers, see if they’re as soft as they look? (Better not, though; wild birds can have mites. And I didn’t take pictures of its beak, but it had one of those, too, and a nasty one, at that.)

There was quite a breeze abroad, today, ruffling the feathers of anything that stood against the wind.

I’m still after the perfect snap of my hummingbird visitors, but they don’t like the sound of the shutter, so I’m having to shoot through glass every time. After all, it rather defeats the purpose of a feeder, if the poor birds get an awful fright, every time they try to eat. I wish there was some sort of casing I could put on my camera, to dull down the sound of the shutter. Ooh! But, I did come face-to-face with an extra-sparkly male Anna’s, this morning, while changing the nectar! It buzzed right up, and hung in the air till I’d finished. It was already feeding, as I turned my back on it.

Other birds spotted, at a distance: double-crested cormorants, bald eagles, black-capped chickadees, and the biggest crow I’ve ever seen.

You know what’s almost never an improvement to your day? A wet, angry goose. This morning, I stepped out onto my balcony, and found myself face to face with — all together, now — a wet, angry goose. Yeah. I couldn’t see it, when I opened the door: it was off to the side, hiding behind the wall, most likely pecking through a pile of crow-excavated dirt. (Oh, right, I forgot to mention that: lately, when the crows arrive for their morning snack, and breakfast hasn’t yet been put out, they dig through my planter in search of seeds. Not only do they dig, but they toss excess dirt over the side; hence the mess.)

So, anyway, I didn’t see the goose, but the goose saw me, and the next thing I knew —

— HONK! —

— oh, horrible! Oh, horrible! Most horrible! —

— hissssssss! —

— and there was a goose missile headed straight for my face, flapping its wings, showing me its lamellae — which, in case you weren’t aware, are goose teeth. GOOSE TEETH. Dear, sweet jebus, GOOSE TEETH! Terrifying! Well, I ducked back inside, and the goose didn’t get me, but still…dreadful moment!

After our brief but antagonistic encounter, the goose flew up to the railing, and kept an eye on me as I went about, y’know, breakfast-related activities in the kitchen. It stayed all through breakfast, and nearly an hour after that, alternating between pacing my balcony and eyeing me up from the railing. Once I was reasonably certain it wouldn’t try to squeeze through the window and pummel me with its wings, I poked my lens out juuuuuuuust enough to get some pictures:

Up periscope!

Ever notice that furry little feather-tuft on the back of a goose’s neck? I didn’t, till today. It looks like something a wild boar would have.

A malevolent goosey stare….

Terrifying!

Look closely at this one, and you can see its horrid, deplorable GOOSE TEETH, sticking out a bit on the side. I was hoping it would open its beak, let me get a shot of them, but it never did.

The sun began to rise; the goose still had half an eye on me.

Honestly, I don’t know why people aren’t more afraid of geese. Their wings stretch out really far: when this one charged me, it couldn’t even get its wings open all the way, because of the balcony railing. They have tooth-like structures in their beaks, and they hiss. And they’re completely prehistoric-looking, with their long, snakey necks, and their legs — have you seen their legs? Their skin’s all loose, in the leg area, like ill-fitting scaly bags, barely holding in the bones and what-have-you. Their feet are big and clunky, with extra claws on the back: what are those for? Are they for KICKING YOU IN THE FACE? Awful, awful birds, and we’ve got so many of them, at the moment, honking and flapping and invading people’s morning routines.

Oh, and I didn’t see a bufflehead, today. There are some workmen parked up in the middle of False Creek, building a houseboat, or something, and the birds are giving them a wide berth. Insult to injury! Psh.

OH! And a bald eagle flew RIGHT BY MY WINDOW, this morning (pre-bufflehead disappointment, post-goose), with a pack of crows in hot pursuit, and I was ON THE PHONE WITH THE CABLE COMPANY, complaining about poor reception, and missed my chance at a picture! DOUBLE insult to injury! DOUBLE psh!