The great annual bird blog

You know you’re getting older when you start to like seagulls.

I never thought much of them before. After all, they hang around garbage dumps. They steal your French fries. They drop disgusting things on you.

But when I saw them this last March, flying above the street after a Saskatchewan snowstorm, I admired their resilience. Most importantly, I knew spring was not too far away. (In our case, a mere two months away.) 

Crows, on the other hand... Nothing to like about them. Sure, they clean up carcasses on our streets (I’m sorry, but roadkill happens – just ask my daughter about the traumatic “pigeon incident” last Thursday). That part is good. They play a critical role in the circle of life. But I really don’t like it when they use our bird bath to assist them in carrying out this role. Along with all the bread, nuts and salami marinating in the water, I also find the remains of small dead animals. How to prevent this? In lieu of a scarecrow, I take to running out into the yard screaming and throwing rocks.

[By the way, this is a bird blog, so I apologize to all you non-birders who have no interest whatsoever, but I promise this is going to get interesting.]

Unlike crows, house finches are welcomed in our front yard. At this time of year, we’re down to one pair, but I eagerly await August when all the little ones will join them, fighting for a chance at our feeder.

But the big prize this year – the one that makes me so proud as a father, a homeowner, and bird enthusiast – is the regular visitation of two yellow warblers. While these birds won't eat at a bird feeder, they have come to enjoy our water fountain for bathing. I really like these birds. They don’t have much of a song, but they are just so – how to say this in the manliest way possible – adorable. The fact that these little twerps travel thousands of kilometres from South America every year to enjoy our Prairie summer is enough to earn my admiration.

Here are some other birds I’m keeping an eye on this year:

Brown thrashers. They’re not always easy to spot – a bit larger than a robin with a long tan tail – but they have an incredibly unique song that sounds like the rattling off of a hundred different keyboard sounds. It sounds something like ta-ta-doo-dah-la-la-la-ridididaw. Now I realize bird songs don’t translate very well into English, but show some patience as I competently assist you in song identification.

Grey catbirds. Similar to the brown thrasher, their song, when not meowing like a cat, is like listening to a small child playing on Garage Band. At times, it sounds like coo-doo-la-cah-da-ta-da-dee-da-da!

Warbling vireos. These rather plain looking birds – grey with some white accents around the eye – have a pleasant song that sounds like diddly-diddly-da-da-da.

Red-eyed vireos. While even tougher to spot because of how high up in trees they perch – I've yet to lay eyes on one – they make a dull two- to three-note song that is broadcast relentlessly throughout the day that sounds like taa-taaah-daaah, taa-taaah-daaah.

Baltimore orioles. When we first got into birding, the great prize was to spot these elusive black and orange birds that are not in fact from Baltimore, but rather the Bahamas (I really have no idea). What I do know, thanks to Wikipedia, is that their name stems from their colours that resemble the coat of arms of the 17th Century British nobleman, Lord Baltimore. And, in our monarchical Queen City of Regina, they are more common than we initially thought. All it took was for us to identify their unique call that sounds like calew, calew, toodily-do.

Again, these are approximations of how these birds sound. While I would suggest using a bird identification app, it should give you a good start.

Happy birding!

Me and my yellow warbler