Song Sparrow sings spring

Dark-eyed Junco and Song Sparrow under the feeder. Margaret Madsen photo

Among the Dark-eyed Juncoes scratching under our feeders the other morning we spotted a friendly new face - the Song Sparrow! Welcome back! When you hear the happy lilting song of this cheerful little bird, you know spring has arrived - although this year you wonder if this really actually is spring because the snow keeps reappearing and it is still so darned cold!

Distinctive facial markings and centre spot on breast
identify Song Sparrow. M. Madsen photo.

The juncoes are just passing through but the Song Sparrow is probably here for the summer season. Male juncoes are dark slate grey and females a brownish grey overall, except for their lower parts - both look like they squatted in white paint. When they take flight, their white outer tail feathers are most obvious.

Unlike the junco that is instantly identifiable, one has to look twice at a Song Sparrow because it first looks like another "LBJ" - little brown job. But then you notice the heavy brown streaks on the light breast, the centre breast spot, the white throat, the dark "whisker" and "mustache" and the brown line through the eye, the white "eyebrow" and the dark crown with a pale line splitting it in half. As you can tell from the first photo, it is about the same size as the junco - and those wretched House Sparrows. This is our Saskatchewan version of the Song Sparrow. There are apparently about 30 different races of varying sizes and colorations.

Collared doves move to Naicam

Eurasian Collared Doves in our Naicam yard. Photo by Margaret Madsen 

Last week John and I were enjoying our morning coffee and the StarPhoenix at the kitchen table when he suddenly asked, "Hear that dove?"

I raced (well, actually lumbered) to the front step to hear better. Cuc coooo coo. Cuc cooo coo. I'd heard that before in Delisle - Eurasian Collared Doves. Unfortunately, we had to head off to Melfort that morning so we couldn't go searching for the birds. When we came back, we drove up and down a few back alleys checking for sight or sound but nothing. Next morning (April 9) I was again working on the crossword puzzle at the kitchen table, when I glanced up to notice a pair of collared doves pecking around in spilled seeds beneath the feeder, joining the crowd of Dark-eyed Juncoes, American Tree Sparrows and House Sparrows seeking breakfast. Since then, they have been back every morning checking out the diner. Because our kitchen window faces east, there is glare on the glass but this morning I managed to get a photo that's not too bad.

I contacted Dr. Stuart Houston and he said, yes, Naicam is a new town for the doves. Since their introduction to the Bahamas in 1974, they have slowly but surely been making their way up and across the continent.  One wonders about a species of bird that takes less that 40 years to colonize this much of the continent - will it one day be an unwelcome pest like the House Sparrow?

In 2003, I spotted the first of the species to reach Delisle - the Saskatoon area. The first pair took to hanging out in the back alley adjacent to the seniors' lodge and in short order, the doves' early morning cooing roused the ire of the residents who wanted to sleep late. John and I could hear their calls from at least a block away while inside our house with the windows closed.

*   *   *

And that reminds me of story about Buzzy. Remember Buzzy, the mayor of Hungry Hollow and the world's greatest jokester? According to the Moccasin Telegraph, Buzzy is in the dog house again. It seems our hero considers magpies to be varmints and hates them with a passion. Grace had the kitchen window open to let in some spring air but unfortunately it also let in the raucous noise of a magpie stomping around in their front yard.

Finally, Buzzy had enough. He was going to get that bird. He marched to the porch, loaded his gun, marched back to the kitchen, aimed through the window, fired - and shot through the glass. He hadn't noticed Grace had closed the window.

Magpie high rise...

Two-storey magpie nest. Clistine Fisher photo

Spring has finally reached Naicam. The crows are back and water in running in the streets - and into our basement! And this morning for the first time, the juncoes were back under the feeders. What a welcome sight! Also for the first time since we moved to Naicam, we had a squirrel in the yard dining under the feeders and on the tray feeder.

Recently I had an interesting email from my friend Clistine: "I told you about the magpies building a nest in the trees beside our driveway. Much to my surprise they didn't stop with the nest at the lower part but continued to construct what I called a second storey... Do you know if this is unusual? I have seen large nest but not quite like this one..."

Yikes, Clistine, you're right. That is a really tall nest. Apparently the actual cup shaped nest is near the bottom of that pile of sticks and the rest is all protective covering. Alan Smith in Saskatchewan Birds (published by Lone Pine) describes the magpie as an "exceptional architect" whose huge elaborate constructions last for years in the trees and may become nest sites for birds who don't build their own like merlins and owls. The structure of sticks is held together with mud and the domed compartment conceals eggs and young from predators and harsh weather.

Your magpies have probably included more than one secret entrance hole in that towering nest. I guess it takes a thief to know a thief - magpies prey on songbird eggs and nestlings.

... And the Chipping Sparrow

Chipping Sparrow   Photo courtesy Wikipedia

Because in my last posting I talked about American Tree Sparrows, this time I want to show you their look-alike cousins - Chipping Sparrows. And no, I haven't seen any Chipping Sparrows back yet, but the crows are flapping about town and we saw a Red-tailed Hawk swoop over the highway to Humboldt yesterday. The snow is finally starting to melt so maybe there is hope that spring will eventually come!

As you can see, the two species of sparrow share a common rusty orange cap, tweedy brown and black back and light underparts. What is missing on the Chipping Sparrow is the black tie-tack pinned in the centre of the Tree Sparrow's Chest. The "chipping" has a black line through its eye, accented by the white "eyebrow" above, more dramatic eye makeup than that of the "tree" with the rusty eye line.

 Speaking about the bright cap on the Chipping Sparrow reminds me of when my granddaughter Megan, then 10 and also living in Delisle, phoned me  to ask the name of the little brown bird with red on top of its head and a black line through his eye.

Red? Red head? Maybe a Purple finch, I suggested. She sounded uncertain, but since the bird had a nest low down in their neighbor's tree holding four light blue eggs with brownish spots, she wanted to know what it was. I suggested she come take a look through my guide books and she arrived a few minutes later on her bike. I pointed out the Purple Finch.

"That's not purple, Grandma. That's red," she said. "And that's not the red I mean. Like  a robin's breast, but brighter"

Ahh! Robin Red-breast of British poetry was confusing my granddaughter! While English Robin's indeed have a red breast, our American Robins have a rusty orange breast, and yet how often to we say our robin's are also red-breasted. It took Megan just a few moments to find the Chipping Sparrow in the guide book. There is something immensely satisfying about sharing my passion for birds with my grandchildren.

Last summer when I was sitting outside with my coffee I observed  pair of Chipping Sparrows making frequent trips from our yard to a cedar in an oak barrel planter at the neighbor's across the street. After seeing the same performance over several days, I suggested to Evvie that maybe they had a nest in her bush. We investigated and sure enough, their were four pin-feathered babies with mouths agape. The parents kept up their routine of coming to the smorg in our yard and delivering lunch across the street for another week or so and then one day I saw the four young ones lined up side by side on the edge of eaves trough above the cedar and knew they were finally about to go shopping for dinner on their own,