Tag Archives: cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum)

A few of my favorite things #6

Cedar waxwings (Bombycilla cedrorum).  Forged on the velvet anvil from the strongest silks imaginable.  Painted in subtle hues and bejeweled with the humblest splashes of color.  Such beauty stands equaled only by the personality that imbues each of them with the spirit of an intimate.

A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched on a branch (2010_04_10_052813)
A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched on a branch (2010_04_10_052709)
A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched on a branch and looking down (2010_04_10_052828)
A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) looking closely at me (2010_04_10_052766)
A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched on a branch (2010_04_10_052681)
A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched on a dry reed with a crane fly leg hanging out of its beak (2010_04_10_053334)

[the last photo shows a crane fly leg hanging from the bird’s beak; it flew right to me to pluck the insect off the lens hood; these birds are not only gregarious and docile, but they’re curious and friendly if you sit still long enough]

Farewells – Part 1

The mockingbirds sing and display, their aerial ballets worthy of the finest stages across the globe and their diverse songs reminiscent of the finest works of Mozart.  The first purple martin arrived yesterday, a vanguard leading the way for many others to follow, and soon they will fill the days with profound beauty.  The merlin waded into the crystal river and began its long swim northward, putting behind it this cold season in the south and setting its eyes on love to be found in another place and at another time.  The mourning doves pour upon the sunrise their woeful dirge until my eyes water at the sadness of the sound, yet to them it is not sad but joyous, a plaintive call that seeks to warm the heart of another.

Even as more snow is forecast next week, nature prepares her children for the season that is to come.  An eclectic celebration of dance and music.  The building of nests and the starting of families.  The putting on of fine colors and patterns, the best dress available, the finest suit.  And her migrating offspring begin their journeys.  While many will leave, many more will arrive.  Yet it is the farewells which cut us deeply, not the hellos.

So in honor of the endings that now beset us and the beginnings they foretell, I offer this brief series in celebration of the lives with whom I’ve shared a brief moment this winter, the faces that will now pass into memory as new faces take their place.  And because I believe no life is complete without reading it, I will include the divine words of Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet alongside the beauty of that which even now passes into history.

Farewell to you and the youth I have spent with you.

Yellow-rumped warbler (a.k.a. myrtle warbler or Audubon’s warbler; Dendroica coronata) perched in a bush (2010_02_06_049418)

It was but yesterday we met in a dream.

Cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched on a branch (2010_02_06_049331)

You have sung to me in my aloneness, and I of your longings have built a tower in the sky.

Brown creeper (Certhia americana) climbing the side of a tree (2010_02_07_049537)

But now our sleep has fled and our dream is over, and it is no longer dawn.

A mated pair of northern pintails (Anas acuta) swimming in the bay (2010_01_24_048844)

The noontide is upon us and our half waking has turned to fuller day, and we must part.

Song sparrow (Melospiza melodia) perched in winter reeds (2010_01_12_048009)

If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song.

Ring-billed gull (Larus delawarensis) standing on a submerged log (2009_12_20_045591)

And if our hands should meet in another dream we shall build another tower in the sky.

— — — — — — — — — —

For those looking to fill your weekend not with farewells but with hellos, I turn your attention to these delectable blog carnivals.

Friday Ark #283: Steve ushers critters aboard the ark throughout the weekend, so visit now and visit often.  Through Sunday you will find a growing collection of marvels both great and small.

I and the Birds #119: The Cult of Birds: I cannot recommend enough that you visit Laura’s edition of this bird carnival.  She is someone I look up to as a writer, a naturalist, a feeler of emotions.  Her edition of this celebration of all things winged is the preeminent presentation that should not be missed.

An Inordinate Fondness #1 – Inaugural Issue: A man for whom I have developed a sincere admiration and great fondness, Ted MacRae offers up the inaugural edition of a carnival celebrating the largest group of animals on the planet: beetles.  His passion manifests clearly in this festival, and he sets the bar high for future versions that no doubt will struggle to meet this standard.

Photos:

[1] Juvenile yellow-rumped warbler (a.k.a. myrtle warbler or Audubon’s warbler; Dendroica coronata)

[2] Subadult cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum)

[3] Brown creeper (Certhia americana)

[4] Mated pair of northern pintails (Anas acuta)

[5] Song sparrow (Melospiza melodia)

[6] Ring-billed gull (Larus delawarensis)

Winter visitors – Part 3

Like sheets of rain they arrive, waves of life washing over the land in downpours of sight and sound.  Even within the confines of a hectic city, the torrent of wing beats can drown out the cacophony of metropolitan noise, and the flood of songs and calls can fill a cloudless sky with a storm of beautiful music.

More appear each day.  Great billowing tempests borne of feathers in flight roil over the horizon.  Thunderous roars fill the air as the winter landscape takes form and innumerable species come to fill the barren trees.

For those parched and in need of nature’s bounty, no better flood can be found.

A western meadowlark (Sturnella neglecta) perched in a treetop (2009_11_01_036709)

Where eastern meadowlarks abound, a singular voice grabbed my ear.  A western meadowlark (Sturnella neglecta).  Just looking at it I would have assumed it to be its eastern cousin.  The bluestem and wildflowers hid many of their kind, yet this bird came with a song that could be from no other species.  I stood and photographed it in the treetop where it came to rest…then heard another further across the meadow.  Though both meadowlark species live yearround in Texas, only the western meadowlark migrates into Dallas for winter, coming to spend the cold season with eastern meadowlarks who are always here.

An American goldfinch (Carduelis tristis) feeding in a withering thicket (2009_11_26_041988)

Drab little American goldfinch (Carduelis tristis).  Winter is a mix of breeding and nonbreeding plumage, with ducks arriving in their impressive best while finches and warblers arrive in the drab clothes of disinterest.  But while they stay and feast and wait for spring, they change their outfits until early next year they have donned the gayest apparel of bright colors and stunning patterns.  So for now we don’t blame the goldfinch for visiting in such a mundane outfit, for we know these next few months will contain marvelous transformations resulting in the freshest and brightest hues.

A Forster’s tern (Sterna forsteri) flying overhead (2009_11_01_036572)

Though in time for breeding season its head will take on a stunning black cap and face and its beak will turn brilliant orange with a black tip, this Forster’s tern (Sterna forsteri) still demonstrates that a dash of color is better than no color at all.  And these birds will freshen their plumage in time for spring migration.  Until then, however, they dive and dine and outrun the gulls who try to take their meals.

A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched in a treetop (2009_11_28_042792)

Intoxicating.  No word better describes the cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum).  A creature airbrushed with subtle hues and transitions coupled with a bold mask and lively crest.  Flocks of a few birds to many dozens flit from tree to tree.  They swarm into the air and move like a single organism, the whole of their numbers rolling and banking, little voices calling all the while.

A marsh wren (Cistothorus palustris) hunting through withering reeds (2009_11_26_040944)

It took more than an hour of sitting in wet grass to finally capture a photo of this marsh wren (Cistothorus palustris).  Like all its wren cousins, it’s a chatty critter who talks constantly while it hunts.  The reeds in which it stands kept it nothing more than a voice occasionally mingled with a shadow hidden deep.  Then suddenly it exploded into the open, perched, stared.  One click of the shutter was the amount of time it took for the bird to return to its search for sustenance.  Delightfully energetic little thing, and one whose yammering makes it easy to locate—though not necessarily see.

A ring-billed gull (Larus delawarensis) flying overhead (2009_11_26_041010)

The most numerous and in-your-face gull species to settle here for winter: the ring-billed gull (Larus delawarensis).  Opportunistic bullies they are, giving chase and mobbing anyone with food.  So it was with a sense of cosmic justice that I watched the tables turned by great-tailed grackles who kept chasing the gulls away from a spot of bread tossed to them by a passerby.  And in the rare instance when a gull succeeded in grabbing a piece, the grackles swarmed the larger bird and forced it to flee, often without the food in question.  Gulls are fun and gregarious creatures, though, and their personalities make a walk at the lake as entertaining as it can be.

Pretty bird

A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched on a branch (20080426_04651)

Would you begrudge me the chance to see the beauty you display when a mate you find and upon a branch the two of you pass flowers to each other, feed each other, and rub bills?  Would you think me a voyeur for letting my eyes rest a while on that scene?

A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched on a branch (20080426_04652)

Did you feel me intrusive when, after I spied you and your friends dashing about the treetops, I gave chase and followed you through the thicket and woods?  Or did you notice the camera and, at least for an instant, stop to show off your unrivaled splendor?

A cedar waxwing (Bombycilla cedrorum) perched on a branch (20080426_04656)

Even as you held me with disadvantage through your erratic flits from treetop to treetop, always moving further uphill as I scampered along beneath, and even as your kith and kin scurried about on waxy wings through branches and foliage thick, more than once you drew near enough to meet my eyes from behind your dark mask.  Then away, away you flew, away toward what meal of fruit you might find for breakfast.

And I felt grateful for the encounter, brief though it was.

[Cedar waxwings (Bombycilla cedrorum); although ubiquitous at White Rock Lake and something I’ve seen before, I drooled at the chance to capture an image or two of these magnificently exquisite birds; they offered me just such a chance last Saturday]