Berkeley Backyard Bird Blog: Backyard Birds Unseen, Infinite, Hidden Well in Their Private Little Universe

Rufous Hummingbird posing in resplendent plumage

Of imminent springtime,

Walt Whitman wrote:

Small flower bud emerging

" . . . unseen buds, infinite, hidden well."

108-year old Interior Live Oak gracing side yard on Berryman Street in North Berkeley

As with the birds he might have added,

for every move the little ones make

is easy to miss.

Beautiful little Rufous Hummingbird

And that's when you're paying attention.

Surprise gusher (Benner Falls) just outside of Codornices Park in North Berkeley

When tuned out,

the infinitesimal activity of birds

might as well take place on a different plane.

Anna's Hummingbird seeking honey to suckle

Yet the cute, ubiquitous creatures

operate in plain sight,

all about us, all day long.

How is it possible to miss this pretty Robin

How is it possible to miss them?

Western Tanager dropping in pines for a rare visit

Yet we do.

Corvid family of 9

To appreciate their

flitty comings and flighty goings,

timing is everything.

Noticing and paying attention is another.

Anna's Hummingbird perched on stem

Then, and only then,

will you be able to know and recognize birds

as singular, wild creatures,

special individuals of the Earth

who know no boundaries

and owe no human a thing.

Codornices Creek running through Live Oak Park - a stone's thrown from home

You must really want to appreciate them

with an up close and personal,

oft-single (or absent)-minded effort.

White-crowned Sparrow

Not study them

so much as admire them.

Vibrant poppies popping out

Not split feathers over lineage and genes,

but to avoid the trap of

(as Emerson said to Thoreau):

Wary-eyed - or curious! - Junco

" . . . finding and booking it,

lest life should have nothing more

to show you."

Chestnut-backed Chickadee

A simple matter of attuning to birds (and all of nature):

just by paying attention,

just by looking for their presence,

just by listening for songs,

just by detecting movement,

just by noticing birds doing bird things

and behaving in uniquely bird ways.

Redwoods gracing Berkeley city parks

Then, and only then,

will you become privy to

the subtle rhythm of:

. . . the miraculous unseen, infinite, hidden . . .

Red-shouldered Hawk in Berkeley city park

. . . LIFE OF BIRDS . . . !

Scrub Jay on wire perch

Thank goodness (say hundreds of thousands of birds) for the forested, creek-fed parks of Berkeley and attractive gardens and backyard stands of tall trees offering bounty and shelter for our avian amigos who go about their daily business largely unnoticed and ignored by most.

Black-headed Grosbeak in Tilden Regional Park

And thank goodness (say a hundred thousand residents) for Berkeley's advocacy of the “City Beautiful Movement” in 1914 to create "nature parks," urban sanctuaries protecting what's left of what was once wide-spread wilderness in coastal bay hills.

Giant Redwood towering above the forest floor in Tilden Park

Redwood forests. Canyon waterfalls.

Steelhead running streams. Bay shoreline.

Pretty Nook Pool along Wildcat Creek in the Berkeley Hills

Microcosms of grandiose nature.

Right here in Berkeley.

Anyandeverywhere you live.

Industrious Acorn Woodpecker

It's anyone's guess how many species and individual birds call Berkeley home. Could be 200 species and over 5,000,000 residents. In my overgrown backyard, bedrock-cutting Codornices Creek runs through lucky neighbors' property.

Inspiration for BerkeleyBackYardBirdBlog

In a secluded nook harboring a mini-forest, I can hear the soft soul-soothing mellifluous whoosh of the creek. I crane my neck peering into high thick oak boughs, pausing to listen, ever attuned to some skittering or fluttering or flocking, some foraging or nesting or playful interaction.

Brown Creeper snagging some nesting material

Brown Creepers, Cooper's Hawks, Nuttall's Woodpeckers (or Downy or Ladderback?), Hummingbirds, Finches, Juncos, Jays, Kinglets and Warblers, you never know who next will show up in my overgrown Berkeley backyard.

Oak canopy provides shelter and food for countless species of birds and insects

The bucolic setting affords great birding opportunities.

Over the past several weeks, I observe:

Rufous resting for a moment after nectar gathering activity

Rufous Hummingbird sucking nectar from Chinese Lanterns.

Anna's Hummingbird in repose

Anna's (?) with bold plumage taking a break.

Warbling Vireo warbling away

Warbling Vireo for one second

but enough to say, Wow!

That was a Warbling Vireo!

Wilson's Warbler revealing himself

Brief sighting of a Wilson's Warbler,

the first ever in the big oak tree

of the pretty seasonal stop-over.

Bewick's Wren on the prowl

A pair of nesting Bewick's Wrens.

Pacific-slope Flycatcher resident of my backyard

A Pacific-slope Flycatcher family

with a fledgling making its way

into the cruel, harsh, scary world.

Lesser Goldfinch dipping in spring in city park

The Rufous Hummingbird encounter surprises the holy crap out of me when the near weightless bird suddenly lands out of nowhere a few feet away and poses motionlessly for several priceless seconds, revealing an iridescent gorget emblazoned in orange, turquoise, lime and tangerine.

Gathering of Cedar Waxwings

I'm stunned by such uncommon beauty, mesmerized by the bold display of colors, but cursing myself for not having camera in hand for that million dollar shot. Still, it's a highly satisfying moment for this Hummingbird lover – no different, say, from spotting a beautiful, brightly patterned diminutive cousin from the exotic tropics, it's that special.

Varied Thrush in the Berkeley Hills

Rufous finally zips off – but I have a feeling not for long, so I rush up to fetch my camera and rush back down, certain he's not finished with his posturing and nectar-gathering.

Anna collecting nectar

I'm lucky and right, catching him darting in and out of the Chinese Lanterns, and finally landing on a wire strip of fence for some great looks, but with a different angle of light, his gorget is not quite as incandescently brilliant.

Townsend's Warbler in the bushes

Still. Amazing.

Anna caught with her tongue flitting out

The next day, I spot another Hummingbird flitting around and landing for a few seconds, hair-strand thin tongue lashing out for a drop of water, perched in still-life with light refraction coaxing out the most exquisite pastel radiance ever to befeather a bird.

Finches of a feather at the feeder

I know, I have not seen ninety-nine point nine percent of the world's most beautiful exotic birds, but this one, and Rufous, ah, they are right up there with the prettiest of them. And exotic, in the sense that their color schemes are just out of this world.

Precious little Rufous Hummingbird

Right here in my Berkeley backyard.

Pacific-slope Flycatcher resident of backyard

Earlier in the week, I notice a Pacific-slope Flycatcher bumping up against the side of the house, then landing in a nearby bush, only to flip straight up, with a worm firmly gripped in beak, to a nest constructed beneath a stairwell!

Flycatcher inspecting her nest under stairwell

It looks like a sloppy stringy piece of work, but must be serving its purpose efficiently, as Mama seems quite comfortably ensconced raising her brood or protecting the prospects.

Mama Flycatcher awaiting her fledgling to join her

I can't tell if it's just eggs at this point or if there are hungry little ones. She keeps flying in and out, back 'n forth, on endless forays returning with bits of food, so maybe there are nestlings, after all.

Mama and fledgling united

The following day, I happen to see a baby bird frozen with fear in a bush. Who? Which? What? Turns out to be a fledgling Pacific-slope Flycatcher! Mama is egging him on to fly, fly away, my little birdie.

Fledgling Flycatcher alone in the bush after shaky take-off

He must have been pushed from the nest under the stairwell and landed in the bush. Now, he's faced with the challenge – daunting task! – of flying up to a high tree branch to join Mama.

Fledgling Flycatcher in bush

Can he do it?

American Goldfinch is a beauty of a bird

I watch for several minutes. Sensing Mama's impatience, the little bugger finally successfully accomplishes the aerial feat, overcoming a deadly hurdle of survival so as not to be caught, mangled and eaten by that damn neighborhood fat cat stalking the premises.

Neighborhood deer munching on tasty leaf bits

My next door neighbor noticed a nest constructed in the jasmine of her trellis. I peek through the foliage, on my tip-toes, and see an upright Wren-looking tail. Must belong to Ms. Bewick, for a few minutes earlier I watched a pair feeding on the ground nearby. For sure, it's not the House Finches, who are making their residence in deep crevices of roof top pipes.

Sharp-shinned Hawk sounding the alarm - get away!

Very resourceful, our backyard birds, able to adapt traditional nest-building preferences, such as tree cavities for the Flycatcher, to suit a particular niche to ensure the propagation and survival of their young in our urban-cum-rural backyards.