To all the round little juncos in our backyard during the winter
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Now that spring is here, we're starting to see some changes in the local bird population. New faces are starting show up, and even the year-round species are out singing and generally being visible. There's territory to claim and potential mates to attract, after all. But while many species are just arriving or passing through, one that's dear to me is just about ready to depart.
[ID: A male Dark-eyed Junco stands in the newly-revealed grass and dead leaves. Juncos are small birds, about the size of a sparrow. This one is the slate-colored variety, with a dark grey head and upper body, contrasting with bright white underparts. He's facing the camera and looking slightly to the left. His eye is dark brown, nearly black, and his triangular bill is pale pink. End ID]
The Dark-eyed Juncos are strictly winter residents of southern Wisconsin, preferring to nest in Canada, the Northeast US, and parts of Appalachia. This past weekend, I could tell they had migration on their minds.
[ID: Another male Dark-eyed Junco, standing among dead twigs and sunflower seed shells. This one is darker grey in the head and breast, with lighter grey on the wings and a bit of rust color on the back. End ID]
For most of winter it's fairly common to see a solitary Junco or pairs or small groups picking through the snow under the birdfeeders in our backyard. But now they're forming a flock of at least 30 birds, foraging together and singing their loose trilling song. It's as if they know they have a long flight ahead, and every moment of daylight must be spent filling the tank and gathering their compatriots.
[ID: A male Dark-eyed Junco forages in the twigs and leaves for scattered birdseed. Juncos scrape at the ground with both feet simultaneously in a little hop, then inspect the freshly-exposed ground for tasty morsels. This one is mid-scrape, with debris flying around it. End ID]
So I decided to sit on the deck with my camera for a while to bid the Juncos farewell until next winter. I've been scattering seed back there every so often, and the other birds aren't exactly neat or careful when digging through the feeder above. As such, the Juncos have lots to choose from while poking around between the squirrels and the Mourning Doves. Once I sat down, they didn't seem to mind me at all.
[ID: A female Dark-eyed Junco inspects the ground for bits of seed. The females are distinguished from the males by their paler grey upper parts, sometimes with more brown and tan shades mixed with the grey. End ID]
Though, the birds did seem to mind when my kid joined me on the deck, brandishing his bright green snow shovel. They scattered to the trees or the fence and stayed there until I convinced him to put the shovel away in favor of coating the deck boards in a thick layer of sidewalk chalk.
[ID: A female Dark-eyed Junco sits on a wooden fence, waiting patiently for the danger posed by a nearby four-year-old to pass. The wind is catching the white feathers on her left hip and flipping them up like the flounce of a skirt. End ID]
As the sun sank lower in the sky, I figured I better get dinner started. I spent another minute or two listening to the evening birdsong before capping my lens and helping to knock the chalk dust off my kid's coat and pants. This sudden activity caused the Juncos to scatter once again. Have a safe trip little ones. I'll see you when the snow flies.
[ID: A female Dark-eyed Junco stands in the dirt, looking at the camera with head cocked to one side, as though she's wondering what this person finds so interesting about her. End ID]
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