Robins, Cedar Waxwings and Fish Crows
This morning the rich, smooth, colorful song of a Northern Cardinal began the day at first light, sounding as brilliantly red as it looks. The Eastern Towhee, an Eastern Phoebe and a Dark-eyed Junco also sang.
It was another warm, humid, gray day, the sky by mid-morning crowded with low and high clouds of many shapes and shades. At times the sun burned through a gauzy hole, but never quite broke through.
Birds seemed rather quiet all through the neighborhood, not silent, but few in number and scattered, with the usual suspects singing and calling from the woods or feeding in scattered flocks in yards. Two Black Vultures, a Turkey Vulture and a Red-tailed Hawk soared in a strong southwest wind. A Mourning Dove cooed.
Two Fish Crows called unh-unh to each other as they flew over – unusual visitors here among the many American Crows that are always around. Their short, nasal calls are higher in pitch than the caw of an American Crow.
Many American Robins are scattered almost everywhere through the neighborhood, and there are still a large number of Cedar Waxwings, too – not all flocking together but flying in flocks of two or dozen or so, or perched in chinaberry trees, privet, hollies and oaks. I stopped to admire several Cedar Waxwings perched in a large bare-limbed pecan tree across the road from the field. They all faced in the direction of the sun, even though it was covered in clouds, lemon-yellow bellies glowing like candles, faces exquisitely painted, crests all windblown and fluffy; tail-tips glistening yellow. An Eastern Towhee, Carolina Wren and Carolina Chickadee sang in the field, and a few White-throated Sparrows called.