Swainson’s Serenade…And Other Birdy Wonders

After a long day of driving down from southern Washington, Carol and I wash up at Cape Lookout State Park, another jewel in the crown that is Oregon State Parks. This forested park sits right on the ocean about 30 minutes west and a world away from the tourist trap that is Tillamook, OR. 

We back into our campsite which is surrounded on three sides by a dense thicket dominated by small willow trees, skunk cabbage, sword fern and salmonberry, in other words, the perfect habitat for birds. The dunes and the ocean are just a few minutes walk away, I can hear the shushing of waves on sand. As soon as we get out of the van we’re met by the song of the Swainson’s Thrush. This little bird is singing its heart out, verse after verse of the sweetest tune in nature and a melody that I’ve always associated with summer in Oregon. The song is unmistakable: an ascending series of flute-like notes that melt into the forest air. The Swainson’s spends its winters in South and Central America, migrating to North America in spring and summer. This finch sized bird is secretive and its coloring drab, making it very difficult to spot in the dense understory where it prefers to hang out so that’s why I’m amazed when I look up and see it in plain sight just singing away. Part of the allure of this bird for me is its ephemeral and allusive nature, I hear it but almost never see it. To have such a sustained and clear view right now feels like a blessing, like it’s singing just for me. The serenade continues unabated for the next hour or so. All around the campground I hear thrushsong, these birds clearly love it here.

In this enchanted thicket I also spot two Wilson’s Warblers, one adult and one juvenile flitting about in the dense greenery. I catch the female putting bits of food into the mouth of its hungry offspring. Like the Swainson’s Thrush, the Wilson’s is also a summer visitor. Although it rarely rests and is always on the move this bird is relatively easy to spot due to its nearly uniformly bright yellow coloring which is broken only by an ink- black cap that covers its crown like a yarmulke. A pair of redwing blackbirds also makes a brief appearance, the male’s melodious trill rivals the Swainson’s Thrush for happiest song in the bird kingdom. An inquisitive Stellar’s Jay hops jauntily from branch to branch and a small ground squirrel scurries about hoping for a human provided ground score.

The next morning Carol and I  head to the beach for a long stroll, the weather is cool and overcast, the landscape painted in shades of grey, the sea olive green, waves roll gently onto the sand. As the fog begins to lift more of the beach is revealed. To the south the sand ends at a forested headland about a half a mile away while to the north the beach appears to go on forever. In the distance I can see a few sea stacks and one perfect arch offering a keyhole-like glimpse into the wilderness of the Oregon coast. Off to our right and up the dunes are three tall conifers, bare except for needles up at their crowns. Atop the middle tree sits a bald eagle, this bird projects such a gentle and wise power. Where we live bald eagles are a rare sight, consider yourself fortunate if you catch a glimpse of one. However, in Washington and here along the Oregon Coast bald eagles are a common sight. I never take seeing one for granted though and I’m always filled with wonder at a sighting. We watch the eagle through our binoculars for a few minutes until it calls out. A moment later a young eagle joins the adult and together they fly away up the beach.

We returned home a few days later to our own birdy wonderland. While walking past our apple tree I caught a glimpse of a nest that I’m sure wasn’t there when we left 16 day ago. I peeked in and saw one delicate egg, about an inch long, light blue with dark speckles. I was immediately met by the angry chirps of mama (a California Towhee) clearly upset by my close approach.This bird is pretty darn smart, it chose to build its nest when activity in our backyard was almost nonexistent. The term “bird brain” is a misnomer to say the least. We’ve since given this part of the tree a wide berth, hoping soon to hear the chirps of a new life.

Can you find the nest?