Winter's Subtleties

Imagine: you're immersed in the early-winter splendor of the Chiricahua Mountains.

 Dawn light on the Chiricahua Mountains (Photos by Narca)

The air is brisk and glorious, and, hiking up South Fork, you settle into the depths and subtleties of the season...

into the drifts of sycamore leaves...

Light gleams from the seedheads of Cane Beardstem...

and native thistles...

and Deer Grass.

Streamside willows still hold a few leaves,

and the sycamore's bark takes on a subtle hue of green from chloroplasts.

The riot of nesting and migrating birds has passed, and now you find winter's companions:

Acorn Woodpeckers are busy among the pines and oaks,

Gambel's Quail enliven the mountains' feet,

and Spotted Towhees scratch in the underbrush.

In fact, Spotted Towhees are having a banner winter in the Chiricahuas. Regrowth from the big fire of 2011 must have reached a stage that offers towhees plenty of nesting cover, for we've never before seen them this numerous in winter.

Adult male Scott's Oriole

And... what is a Scott's Oriole doing, still coming daily to our hummingbird feeders?? He lasted through the November snowstorm and shows every sign of being a snowbird in reverse. There's nothing subtle about this bird's summer yellows!

Okay, who has guessed? New camera!

Mexican Chickadee

Mexican Chickadee at nest (Digiscoped photo by Narca)

Although the glamorous trogons draw most birders to southeastern Arizona and the Chiricahua Mountains, the Mexican Chickadee is actually the Chiricahua's major avian claim to fame––the only bird which does not reside elsewhere in Arizona. In New Mexico these chickadees occupy only the Animas Mountains, a region within a private ranch where access is very difficult. Beyond these two outlier populations in the US, the species inhabits mountains in Mexico.

I happened upon a chickadee nest last week in the Chiricahua's Pinery Canyon. The cavity entrance angles up from an old branch scar in a Gambel's Oak, about 20 feet above the ground. The parent––perhaps only the male––was bringing largish caterpillars and other insects to the young and emerging now and then with a fecal sac, removing it from the nest's vicinity. At one point another adult, presumably the female, emerged from the cavity to forage.

According to the Birds of North America account, the males do most of the providing for nestlings (sometimes all), and the females remain in the cavity much of the time. Given the fact that jays were prowling nearby, their nesting success is likely enhanced by the female's guarding behavior.

I'm very fond of Mexican Chickadees ever since Alan and I studied them in the Animas Mountains, 20 years ago. We found that chickadees in the drier Animas, where high elevation conifer habitat is much more limited than in the Chiricahuas, used oaks more frequently than they do in Arizona, where they are considered restricted to conifers during breeding season.

These charmers provide our mountains with one of their characteristic sounds, a burry chick-a-dee, which to me sounds much more like a slurred swear-to-God. Their habitat may be more restricted in the Chiricahuas since last year's Horseshoe Two fire, but the chickadees are still here, raising their young and enlivening the mountain slopes, where root-sprouting oaks attest to the forest's resilience.

Hermit Thrushes

We're seeing two races of Hermit Thrushes right now in the Chiricahuas, slipping quietly along the edges of trails.

Hermit Thrush taxonomy is complicated and unresolved, with roughly 10 races. Whatever the finer divisions, they do resolve into three basic groups: the bright Eastern forms, with their tawny flanks; the grayer, paler subspecies of the interior mountain West; and the more variable races of the Pacific Coast.

When we're used to seeing one of the races, a different form can easily fool us into thinking we're seeing a different species of thrush. Look for the warm reddish tones on the tail!

Auduboni is the race that breeds in the high mountains of southeast Arizona, where their ethereal songs lend a special magic to dawn and dusk in the forest. Other than that, I haven't fit our birds into their appropriate groups yet, but have noticed this: the thrushes that overwinter are very pale, with light spotting on their breasts. Here is a photo from today's walk of our familiar race.

A paler, local race of Hermit Thrush (Photos by Narca)

And for the past three weeks or so, this darker, brighter, more heavily spotted migrant has been coming through. These photos, also taken today along the trail from Sunny Flat Campground in Cave Creek Canyon, show the migrant Hermit Thrush.

If any Hermit Thrush expert would like to shed light on exactly what we're seeing, please do!

Whatever the name of the race, the Hermit Thrush's song is arrestingly beautiful. Listen for it during nesting season!

Migration!

At the end of February, Wally, Jo Ann, Jim and Kris joined me for a day afield to Whitewater Draw, a state wildlife area north of Douglas, Arizona. Weather couldn't have sparkled more! And the birds were feeling both the warmth of the day (after rain and snow the day before!) and the tug of migratory impulses.

Several wintering species are still lingering, waiting till their northern breeding grounds thaw out. Chestnut-collared Longspurs touched down at Willow Tank for a very quick drink, then rushed off in typical mad hatter fashion, the flock eddying in a sort of constant Brownian motion. Several of the males were in full breeding regalia.

Lark Buntings by the hundreds lined the roadsides, the males starting to develop their striking black-and-white breeding plumage.

Resident species, like this pair of Great Horned Owls, are gearing up for breeding.

Great Horned Owls at Whitewater Draw

(All photos by Narca)

Waterfowl and Sandhill Cranes are still a spectacle at Whitewater. Today the cranes numbered in the thousands, far more than I had seen here just two days previously. A gray sea stretched north toward the horizon.

Sandhill Cranes with sleeping pintail at Whitewater Draw

A drake Green-winged Teal at Whitewater Draw

Other species are just arriving from the south. The year's first Cliff Swallow winged past: a surprise, since they usually trail all the other regular migrant swallows in our corner of Arizona. This one must have wintered somewhere well north of Brazil! The first Bendire's Thrasher of the year also perched, calmly regarding us, near the entrance to Whitewater Draw.

And I'm off, too, for a quick trip to Anza Borrego to chase butterflies. Sonoran Blue is very high on my wish list, and they are flying in Plum Canyon!

American Bullfrog at Willow Tank (here an invasive species)