Skywatch Friday: Swainson's Hawk Migration

Swainson's Hawks in Rio Rico, AZ 10-5-08 by photo by Gusto!

Nikon D80 70-300mm lens

Click on photo to enlarge for best view

In Autumn the Swainson's Hawks gather in huge flocks for fall migration. Though I have read about this, I have never witnessed it for myself until this past Sunday when we were in Rio Rico. As we came around a curve on Pendleton Drive we spotted this kettle of birds swirling in the sky. Gus pulled over and grabbed the camera while I grabbed my binoculars. As I watched amazed Gus snapped off over 350 photos. The birds were in the air, in the trees and on the ground. A few turkey vultures mingled with them, but I counted over 50 birds just on the ground and more than 50 in the air. It was truly an amazing sight!

Swainson's Hawk soars over tree tops in Rio Rico, AZ 10-5-08 by Gusto!

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Breakfast With the Birds

Curved-billed thrasher 10-6-08 by Kathiesbirds

I roll over in bed this morning cuddling the thick comforter up under my chin. A cool autumn breeze waltzes through my open window playfully reminding me of this weekend's temperature drop. How refreshing this breath of cool air feels after the dry heat of summer and the muggy heat of Monsoon. Just last night I pulled my comforter out from the closet and smoothed it over the bed. Now I snuggle deeper into the blankets wanting to savor every minute of this experience. A glance at the clock reminds me that I had promised my friend, Sherri I would join her for tea on the patio at her house this morning. So, I throw back the covers and roll out of bed.

Sherri recently bought herself some hummingbird feeders after visiting my house and watching all the hummingbirds fly about the yard. They captured her heart and she went out that day and bought feeders and nectar for herself. Now she wants me to come see for myself how many hummingbirds are visiting her yard. At home I am getting so many more varieties and numbers of hummingbirds than I did last year. I can only assume this is due to all the development and the presence of more and more landscaping with flowering plants and people putting out hummingbird feeders. Last year I predominately saw Costa's Hummingbirds. This year I have recorded at least 6 species. I am anxious to see who is showing up at Sherri's house!

I hear a rock wren's trill as soon as I walk up the driveway. Shortly after the tea is made and we are sitting outside in the golden light of the new day a curved-billed thrasher lands on the view fence that borders her yard. Sherri's house looks out over one of the undeveloped green areas where native vegetation flourishes along a desert wash. The gray-green of velvet mesquite is interspersed with the dark green of creosote bush. Desert hack berry abounds along with a variety of cacti, native grasses, wildflowers, and other trees and scrub. In this lush foliage of the Sonoran Desert the birds thrive. I focus on a little female Anna's out in the wash. I can barely get the camera to focus on her between the bars of the fencing. Then, a bedraggled rufous hummingbird flies over to one of her feeders to lap up some nectar before perching on the chicken wire stretched along the bottom of the fence to keep the rabbits out of the yard and the garden. You can just see the rufous-colored feathers developing along his head and back. On his throat a tiny orange gorget is growing, reflecting copper-colored light.

As we sit and drink our tea and nibble on the fresh danishes Sherri made the birds become more active in the warmth of the sun. Out in the wash I spot an orange-crowned warbler. It flies off before I can get a photo of it. The hummingbird feeders are constantly busy with tiny green thieves fighting for every drop. I see Costa's, Anna's, Rufous and to my surprise, a broad-tailed female with peachy sides and rufous at the base of her tail. I tell Sherri I have had broad-billed hummingbirds at my feeders this year, but they are all gone for now. She glances at the picture in Stoke's Beginner's Guide to Hummingbirds which I have brought along.

We hear a couple of Cactus Wrens squabbling in the wash. A pair of house finches jumps up on the fence and the female plops into the birdbath for her morning wash while the male stands guard above her. Then the house sparrows come to see if there are any morsels for them. Finding none, they move on. As Sherri shows me around her garden pointing out her favorite flowers I am appalled to see a pigeon land on her rooftop! It watches us warily from the height of her 2 story rooftop, then flies off. Where are all the Cooper's hawks when you need them!

We've had a wonderfully birdy morning. As the light and shadow plays across the desert, so, too, does the temperature. The bright sunlight warms you up, then a cool autumn breeze cools you down. It is late morning as I prepare to leave and Sherri walks me out the front door. I have my birding hat on my head, my binoculars on my chest, and my camera slung over my shoulder for the 3/4 of a mile walk home. As we round the corner of her garage I notice a dark and thick shape in the tree of her front yard. I quickly raise my binoculars to discover a mourning dove nest with the mother dove and two nestlings all crammed in together! I drop my bag, give my bins to Sherri, and raise my camera to capture this truly peaceful moment. I use to say capture "on film," but with all this digital technology, I suppose I shall have to say, "in pixels"! Well, what peaceful pixels they are today. And I thought nesting season was over!

Mother Mourning Dove and fledglings in nest 10-6-08 by Kathiesbirds

Click on photo to enlarge for the most peaceful view

Photographer's Note: All of today's photography is by Kathie Adams Brown with the Nikon D80 and the 70-300mm lens set in sports mode.

A Gentle Morning

Dawn by Kathie 9-22-08 5:49 a.m. 52mm, 1/60 sec - F/4.5

Cricket songs and a hooting owl greet me as I step out the patio door in the predawn darkness. I’ve awakened early and after lying in bed for almost an hour decided to give up and get up. I’m not disappointed by this decision for it’s wonderfully peaceful outside. I take down the empty hummingbird feeder encrusted with splashes of dried nectar. The lesser long-nosed bats emptied it hours ago. I bring it into the house, clean and refill it, then set it aside to put out once the sun rises. I don’t know if the bats are gone for the night, but I’d like to sit outside without their company. I grab my steaming cup of Irish breakfast tea and relax into the cushion of a patio swivel chair.

From here I can view the sky in all directions. The outlines of my neighbor’s roofs and the dark edges of Mt. Fagan describe the line between earth and sky. Over head the half moon shines like a beacon still strong enough to cast moon shadows on the ground. Off in the desert a band of coyotes wails like banshees in the night. It is a haunting sound, yet somehow wild and peaceful all at the same time. Their cries carry me away, then set me down again in this desert place I now live in. A light wind brushes my face and causes the nearby flag to gently flap in a soothing rhythm.

Morning Tea by Kathie 9-22-08 6:51 a.m. 70mm, 1/320 sec - F/4.5

I snuggle my hands around my tea cup and spin my chair to view the starry sky. To the south Orion sails almost directly overhead in a charcoal sea. I watch the faint blinking light of a distant satellite as it makes its steady orbit east. I rotate my chair 180 degrees to see what the big dipper is doing. Its upended on its handle hanging over the Catalina Mountains with the two pointer stars on the end of the cup directing me to the north star in the handle of the little dipper. I am not an astronomer by anyone’s stretch of the imagination, but this little bit I know helps me enjoy the nighttime sky even more. The little dipper’s faint stars are almost lost in the glow of the Tucson city lights as its cup sinks lower in the sky. As night fades into day I think of how the stars will still be in their place but I will no longer see them as our morning star rises in the east and bathes the earth in its light. It is a gentle morning here in Sycamore Canyon on this first day of autumn and I am thankful to be awake to greet it.

Sunrise Ballerina by kathie 9-22-08, 6:42 a.m. 98mm, 1/500 sec - F/5.6

Click on photos to enlarge for best view

All Saint's Day in the Morning

With the cooler weather coming on I finally decided to venture out to the desert once again. I walk across the street and enter through the path along the block wall. The early morning shadows are still long and cool, but the desert sun is warming things rapidly. Ahead of me I see the Santa Ritas basking in the morning light. A flurry of sparrows flutters into the scrub. The black-throated sparrows are still here, but there are also white-crowned sparrows now, and possibly some Brewer’s sparrows.

I want to head south in the wash, which is actually uphill, but that is also the direction the sun is coming from and it shines straight down my binocular lenses—not the best for bird watching. I start to head north, which is downhill and makes the most sense as the sun will be at my back, but I’m so drawn to walk up the wash, so I turn around and head that way after all.

The cactus wrens scold from the brush. A curved-billed thrasher whistles from the top of a mesquite tree. Along the cliff wall I see movement and zero in on a rock wren hopping and bobbing about. Its shrill whistle rings off the canyon and is answered by another rock wren farther up the wash. I walk past the red cliff amazed at the thick mesquite root exposed by the erosion of the soil. It bulges out high above me as thick as a child’s arm and worms its way back into the cliff wall again. You have to be strong and resourceful to survive in the desert.

I find a shady spot under a different mesquite tree and sit on the gravel bank. Down here it is so peaceful! From this sheltered spot all I see is nature and I am able to pretend the houses above me on the cliff do not exist. I absorb the silence into my being. This desert beauty is a salve to the soul. Zeet! A canyon towhee flies across the wash. Then, a loud squawking and chatter across the wash draws my attention. Two cactus wrens are arguing about a particularly juicy insect as they hop from branch to branch. I watch their argument amused. A curved –billed thrasher flies in to see what the ruckus is all about. Is he annoyed by their chatter, or hoping to snatch their tidbit from them.

The thrashers and cactus wrens are year-round residents, but the purple martins have flown even farther south for the winter. Now the saguaros they called home are silent. I suppose there may be flickers still inhabiting some holes, but I have not seen them. Beside the saguaros my eyes are drawn to a bit of red. Is this the only autumn color I will see here in the desert? I do not know what I am looking at, but the bush before me has the most beautiful red seed pods dangling from it, and though I am far from New England, it does remind me of autumn there, with Christmas soon to follow.