CHESTNUT BACKED CHICKADEES

Most mornings I sit at the dining room table for a while, waking up, reading the morning newspaper, studying Bible, and checking out the multitude of birds which come to my feeding stations and "warm" water. At last count I have viewed, identified, and listed just over sixty kinds of birds out this particular window.

Currently I am offering black-oil sunflower seeds in each of two feeders located at each edge of the window and suet in a small cage hanging from the vine maples about fifteen feet from the house. This current combination does not draw all the possible local varietites, and adding fruit or a different seed mix or even thistle for the goldfinches would increase the action, but cost and the severity of mid-winter weather suggests I am on the right track for now.

One common comment I hear when guests join me at the constant whirr and flow of seed seekers concerns the delightful chickadees which my friends all seem to enjoy. The infrequent viewers often thinks all little birds are chickadees and enjoy learning enough to pick out other kinds: the red-breasted nuthatch, or the occasional goldfinch, warbler, pine siskin, or other "LBJ"s*. Everybody especially likes the titmouse flocks.

I like to help folk pick out the different kinds of chickadees first. All are quick and typically flit to a feeder, perch but a moment, seize a single sunflower seed, and dart out to a nearby branch to (somehow) hold the seed firmly against the bark while pecking it open to yield the kernel inside. This can take only a three or four or five seconds and the novice viewer often sees only a tiny, quick, grey and black bullet.

I can usually get people to identify the black-capped chickadee most easily and that is my predominate type. Its head is solid black. The mountain chickadee is virtually identical but has white racing stripes on the sides of its "black cap". I usually see a few deep into each winter but never many at once and not for very long.

The other common chickadee is the Chestnut-backed variety (Parus Rufescens, pictured above) which, with few exceptions, is found only west of the Cascade Mountains along the Pacific Coast from Northern California to Alaska's Prince William Sound. As its name reveals, this little guy has a reddish brown back from neck to rump with some of the same brown on the sides and under the wings. It was always fun in Alaska on a winter outing to encounter groups of these happy little fellas, usually deep in the woods, working the few scattered berry bushes and windfall debris under the trees.

Strangely, it takes many viewers quite awhile before they can pick out this prominent brown-back feature, but once positively seen it becomes a hallmark characteristic. My little groups of Chestnut-backed buddies seem to "flock together" and while none may be noticed for a couple of days, when one is spotted several others are with it. They come and go most of the winter months.

Two more things: First, any chickadee is hard to photograph (unless the birds are specifically conditioned for photographic formats) and this photo took several days to snap. Secondly, the designator "LBJ" used above is commonly used by birders to indicate any "Little Brownish Jobbie " that was not precisely identified as being one of a particular species. Thus "LBJ" indicates seeing little unidentified birds.

YEARNING FOR WINTER'S END

As always, the end of January is the pit of all seasons. The days are always short and often dark. The temperature is unfriendly; the wind is sharp and persistent; rain and snow alternate; winter tasks and travel are usually uncomfortable and challenging.

Keeping warm becomes life's focus:
#1. Trying to warm only the rooms in use to mitigate the costs of heating is a perpetual juggling act. Frozen firewood is awkward and heavy and doesn't seem to produce enough heat to repay the effort invested in gathering, hauling, cutting, stacking, covering, carrying, not to mention the mess created in multiple locations during the process, especially on the woodstove hearth.
#2. Wool socks and gloves, hats, coats, sweat suits, sweaters, and multiple layers don't result in the cozy warmth they once provided.
#3. Extra blankets and fuzzy P.J.'s take longer than ever to warm a bed.
#4. Hot drinks don't stay hot, and a body can only drink so much tea or coffee a day anyway without waterlogging.
#5. In the usual local wind or rain, it's hard to walk fast enough or often enough to warm up.
#6. Much (of my) comfort food is gathered out of the refrigerator. That's innately self-defeating.
#7. Wherever I go - here I refer to the ambient temperatures of large rooms like places of assembly or stores, especially food markets - have been dropped well below seventy degrees in response to modern political correctness. (Where is global warming when one needs it?)
#8. News and weathercasters on radio and TV delight in reporting on skiing conditions and mountain snow depths and windstorms and predictions of thermometers readings in the teens and twentys. (These chilling reports even preceed the daily account of world calamity and local police blotter mayhem).
#9. In the current days of sub-freezing weather, while keeping a stream of water dribbling from faucets, while leaving the cabinet doors below the sinks open to protect the pipes inside from seizing up, while keeping drapes and blinds closed to minimize heat loss through windows, while running a kerosene heater periodically in the garage to protect sensitive plants, even closely watching the calendar and wishfully thinking about sunny August afternoons doesn't warm a room a bit.
#10. Finally, every conversation starts or ends with a report on the current situation of winter induced misery: we are all cold, wet, or blown away. Even the rare local tornado a couple of weeks ago hasn't gone away still, and photos of three feet of hail in some unfortunate folk's driveway do nothing to warm up the spirit depresssed by too much of the dark season.

I'm ready for that first crocus. I'm even willing to begin pruning the orchard trees as soon as that mid-minter break of milder, warmer days comes. I need the hopefullness of spring with brighter days, blossoms, some dry days, anad the opportunity to safely breathe outside air. I'm ready for a cure to my "SAD"ness. I want to see those tree buds form and break into soft, vibrant greens again, and for my lawn to rebound from it's brown and dead appearance, and for a drive in the countryside that doesn't feature downed trees and storm damage.

I may even plant flowers and a few vegggies this spring. I definately need to get my hands into some warm soil, to feel the earth recovering, to recognize growth and enjoy God's annual renewal of the sleeping world. I'm even thinking of starting a few bonsai until the "big decision" is made and consumated.

Who else has had enough of winter?