Stayed up a little late last night. slept a little late, and hit the trails a little late. Overcast to start—but noticeably warmer. And not just a-half-hour-later-warmer. Summery warm.
Nonetheless, the birds were out: singing towhees, singing buntings, calling Cooper’s Hawks. Action enough to distract me enough that I miscounted the species I saw and heard. (Ended up with two more than I thought.) A dry but lovely day.
A check of the weather shows we can expect at least another ten straight summery days—even summerier.
Grandeur Peak Area List Beginning at 7:30 a.m. (8:30 MDT), I hiked a few hundred feet up a mountain.
1. Lazuli Bunting 2. American Robin* 3. Spotted Towhee 4. House Finch** 5. Song Sparrow* (v) 6. Black-chinned Hummingbird 7. Rock Pigeon 8. Mourning Dove 9. Blue-gray Gnatcatcher 10. Woodhouse’s Scrub-jay 11. Black-headed Grosbeak 12. Warbling Vireo (v) 13. Black-capped Chickadee 14. Cooper’s Hawk 15. Black-billed Magpie* (v)
Elsewhere
16. California Quail 17. Red-tailed Hawk 18. Barn Swallow 19. Northern Flicker (v)
Mammals
Rock Squirrel
(v) Voice only *Also elsewhere **Voice only elsewhere
Dog and I got the trailhead early this morning, while things were still in the mountain shade. Surprisingly cool considering the recent unseasonable heat wave. Fewer birds—but interesting behavior.
Including, on our return trip, a dramatic tryst between pair of Lazuli Buntings. The female seems to start things off, by leaning forward, tail high, and fluttering her wings. The male obliges (the “cloacal kiss” takes about one second), and this little quickie is followed by one or two more. I suppose in a couple weeks o so we’ll see a bunch of nestlings—then summertime fledglings demanding to be fed.
Several other resident species have gone quiet, meantime, suggesting they, too, have eggs or hatchlings. This miraculous annual reproductive cycle happens pretty quickly by our sense of time—but continues dependably year after year after century after millennium.
Grandeur Peak Area List Beginning at 6:48 a.m. (7:48 MDT), I hiked a few hundred feet up a mountain.
This morning was chilly compared to recent mornings. Right away, as dog and I started up the switchback, birds began to make themselves apparent. The usual suspects mostly (albeit not singing so much as they used to), until we got to the shade of Coyote Canyon, when things got exciting.
First were the wing-trills of the Broad-tailed Hummingbirds that’ve been following us up the cool valley there in past days. Soon enough I heard heard a short, sweet, subtle warble, which turned out to be a female grosbeak’s. Then I spied my first Warbling Vireo in a few days, a random Yellow Warbler in the leafy maples, then another bird up there I could not quickly ID—apparently a young bird, being fed by a parent. I got a photo, thought, which revealed it to be a Plumbeous Vireo (only my third-ever glimpse of the species).
The short climb was thrillingly birdy. Then, unexpectedly, I happened to notice two grouse in the thick greenery not six or eight feet off the trail. Unexpectedly, they did not fly—just stood contemplating me as I snapped photos, then moseyed off into the vegetation. Later, after viewing the photos, I decided these were Ruffed Grouse.
Update:Months later (on 27 February 2021), I had email from the local eBird expert, who advised me the photo above (which I posted there, as well) in fact depicted a Dusky Grouse hen. (Pale throat and overall darker plumage set this bird apart). Talk about unexpected: How strange to be celebrating a new lifer so many months after seeing it!
Grandeur Peak Area List Beginning at 8 a.m., I hiked a few hundred feet up a mountain.
