Berkeley Backyard Bird Blog: Black-headed Grosbeaks & Avian Delights Await in Tilden Nature Area

Black-headed Grosbeak in Tilden Nature Area

All season long, I've been enchanted by the "drunken Robin" arias of our old pal, the Black-headed Grosbeaks, whose vocal emanations euphoniously fill the sweet air with high-pitched whistles and squeaky chips.

Black-headed (juvenile) Grosbeak in Bell's Canyon, Utah

Roosting and feeding high up in hidden tree tops, whistling away while they work and play, these big-billed birds go after insects, seeds, berries, whatever they can get their beaks on, whenever and wherever the pickings are ripe.

Black-headed Grosbeak in Tilden Nature Area

Currently, they seem to be feasting in the rich sylvan and riparian environs of the Tilden Nature Area, a gem of the East Bay Regional Park District system of urban/wild parklands.

Black-headed Grosbeak espied in high tree tops

I tend to associate sightings of these birds with springtime, not the middle of summer. (Not that I even see them all that often.) Well, birds are known to come and go at their whim, depending on so many factors, influenced by so many variables – it must make their tiny heads spin.

Lushly forested area along Blue Gum Trail where Grosbeaks flocked

Luckily, their bird brains have devised very successful survival strategies spanning unfathomable millions of years, going back to the dinosaurs, who, actually, did not die out as commonly presumed, but evolved into – you guessed it: BIRDS!

First sighting of Warbling Vireo in Tilden Nature Area

Well, as luck and timing, and circumstance and forbearance, would have it, the black-headed birds have eluded me this season . . . until just the other day.

Jewel Lake drying up in summer drought

Moments before, I had honed in on my first Warbling Vireo in two years, obsessed with a playful pair darting in and out of a clump of fragrant bushes springing up on a tiny islet created by Jewel Lake's diminished mid-summer water.

Black Phoebe

Hanging on precarious stems, the handsome birds were in seed heaven sampling the bounty at hand – competing with a bold trio of Lesser Goldfinches and a whirling dervish of an adept insect-snatching Black Phoebe.

Warbling Vireo near Jewel Lake

With the characteristic white stripe above the eye, and a distinctive song and call set, the Vireos are otherwise drab in appearance, but I get excited every time I see one, because (in my estimation) the birds are noteworthy for their occult and furtive ways.

Yellow-rumped Warbler in on the action

Except, of course, when they're not shy to show themselves.

Warbling Vireo showing self

But even then (as you can see),

I'd be lucky to snap a decent photo.

Black-headed Grosbeak stretching out

As I was delighting in watching the pair, I heard a ruckus in a nearby tree, looked up and instantly was rewarded with prime views of two low foraging Black-headed Grosbeaks! A couple of males only, no female in sight, these boys meant business as they scrounged for caterpillars and cicadas and mantises and who knows what all from their tree top domain.

Townsend's Warbler dropping in to liven things up

They hung around for a minute or so, then vanished into the thick forest surrounding Jewel Lake. With its towering trees, bountiful canopy and dense understory, the birds have so much cover in which to hide and stay out of sight from anyone or thing intending to do them harm.

Jewel Lake overflowing after big rain

Now, who would that be?

Probably that little Kestrel that just flew by!

Kestrel

WHIZZZZIP!

Raven caught a bat to munch down!

First time I've spotted a Kestrel at Jewel Lake!

What evanescent beauty,

this supreme hunting machine!

Great Blue Heron eyeing a fishy or froggy

In our protected nature preserve on the doorstep of Berkeley, California, birds often are comfortable enough to just hang out in plain sight, like that Great Blue Heron across the way I spotted flying in.

Eucalyptus trees reflected in Jewel Lake

Attracted to the deep watery reflections from the other side of Jewel Lake, I was headed over that way and nearly botched the whole thing before stopping suddenly, a few feet away, to admire the Heron.

Great Blue Heron

A beautiful aquatic hunter ensconced at lake's edge amid psychedelic rippling patterns, frozen solid in a crouch stance, elongated neck curled and resting on the wide body, intense, beady eye fixed on something in the water.

Turtles sunning on log at Jewel Lake

Eventually, tiring of his motionless stance, or unfavorable prospects, he unfurled his body, flapped his big wings and flew off in a straight low trajectory across the lake to gracefully land on an opposite sandbar to test the waters there for some – grub?

Great Blue Heron ready to take off

And then there's the Swainson's Thrush I first heard, then espied, in Wildcat Gorge early one morning last week. I think it was my first ever sighting of the pretty avian songster.

Swainson's Thrush?

Take a look at the video link below (singing!)

and these frame shots and see what you think.

Swainson's Thrush?

The Gorge area is a hot zone for spotting all the birds you don't normally see: Golden-crowned Kinglets, Grosbeaks, Wilson's Warblers, Varied Thrushes, and now, finally, at long last (true?), Swainson Thrush.

Jewel Lake overflowing after big rain

I want to believe it so badly!

Maybe I'm fooling myself!

Swainson's Thrush or just another bird in the brush?

What a vocal little creature just absolutely singing his heart out to draw attention from a suitable mate. Or maybe the little guy was just singing to unleash to the world his sweet, melodic madrigal of pure love and joy.