A midwinter neighborhood walk

George Walter

Photo by Jill Severn

Although the sky was gray, it wasn’t raining, so as noon approached, I went out for my usual neighborhood walk. I wasn’t thinking about birds, so I didn’t take my binoculars.

But even without them, I could hear and see a lot of avian action. In fact, I was surprised by how busy and vocal my local birds were this late morning.

Even though my walk is barely one-half mile, I pass by several habitat types and, therefore, fhave the chance to encounter several different bird communities. I hadn’t gone 10 steps before a Pacific wren greeted me with its double chip call, which I answered with my imitation response.

Almost immediately a spotted towhee chimed in. These are both birds of the woodland edge community, and I was impressed by how active they were. Soon two song sparrows joined, and we all chatted for a moment as I left my yard and started down the road.

An Am Robin eyeing winter food.

Several of my neighbors have fruit trees (I do, too, for that matter) and today the grassy ground under those trees was attended by four common flickers. These may have been winter visitors, but I suspect they are residents here because I see or hear flickers all year round. They like to search for ants and other ground insects, flying up into the bare fruit tree branches when alarmed — but never going too far.

Pine Siskin

But the most abundant bird in the grass/fruit tree/pasture habitat was the American robin. Most people might think that robins are “nothing special;” they are common and the first bird that a person learns about, probably by age four.

The robins we see in winter are likely about half residents and half winter visitors. That’s because robins use many places as breeding territories, but mostly abandon the snowy mountains in the winter for locations closer to warm coastal waters.

But that’s not always the case. There are always some robins hanging around the cold and snowy orchards in Eastern Washington because fallen fruit provides a reliable source of winter food for them.

They also like to snack on worms and other insects that may also be feeding on the rotting fruit. At times, these rotting fruits can turn slightly alcoholic and it’s not uncommon to find robins acting a little tipsy.

In winter, robins are not paired but rather hang out in flocks. In Thurston County, these flocks are usually 10-20 birds, keeping in contact with each other with a musical chip note.

When they see me walking along the road, one issues an alarm call and they all fly up into the trees until I pass. It won’t be long before they start to get prepared for the breeding season.

As the days get longer, the males will start to sing. Robins are early breeders, and thus, even here in the Pacific Northwest, where robins are residents, their early mating activities can be viewed as the first signs of spring.

You might wonder, “Are the robins I see this year the same ones that were here last year?” Researchers have studied this using colored leg bands and determined that in any one year about half the robins make it through to the next year and that the entire population turns over about every six years. The oldest recorded robin was nearly 14 years old.

There was one more bird on my walk patrolling the pasture habitat, the common starling. I have a few of these birds in my neighborhood and they’re entertaining vocally. Because they have the ability to mimic other birds, they might be making all sorts of noises from the perches in trees and utility wires. You often can identify starling vocalizations because they’re usually a snippet of another species' song, and sometimes the snippets are all mixed.

A male house finch.

My walk’s turnaround is in front of a yard with two well-stocked bird feeders. That spot is usually busy, and this day was no exception. On the ground were both mourning and Eurasian-collared doves and about 20 Oregon juncos.

Dark-eyed Junco - male.

Visiting the feeders themselves were both species of resident chickadees, house finches and a flock of 40 or so pine siskins. This year flocks of siskins are very common in our county. They are very lively, fluttering around constantly.

The adults flash their yellow wing patches. Younger ones’ wing patches can be white or nonexistent, but another tipoff to identifying pine siskins is that they are always in flocks — you will either see a lot of them at once or none.

A Northern Flicker — red-shafted.

As I returned home, I reflected again on how amazing these common neighborhood birds are, and how it never fails to lift my spirits to see them. Each day, gray and rainy or not, the birds are out there earning their livelihood. And they’re in your neighborhood as well.

So, here’s my recipe for lifting your spirits during our gloomy midwinter — as you’re out and about, pay a little bit of attention to the activities of our busy avian neighbors.  

George Walter is environmental program manager at the Nisqually Indian Tribe’s natural resources department; he also has a 45+ year interest in bird watching. He may be reached at george@theJOLTnews.com

Photos for this column are provided by Liam Hutcheson, a 17-year-old Olympia area bird enthusiast and avid photographer.