Last week’s full moon pulled me outside around 10. While absorbing the warmish evening and shimmering light across Possession Sound, I heard the hooting of a Great Horned Owl. Interrupting those soft, melodious hoots was the squawking, demanding call of a juvenile owl begging for food.
Last fall while out in the garden, my husband saw a dark flash dart past him, flying low to the ground and land on a fence post. He called me out to identify the bird and we marked the first sighting of a Merlin for our yard list.
Last week on one of those rare sunny afternoons, I was chatting with a friend who is new to Whidbey. She’d just explored Ebey’s Landing, taken in some live music and was awash in the wonder of our island. Out popped, “I’m happy as a lark!”
We’ve got red ones, yellow ones, purple ones and, at higher elevations, even rosy ones. Their bright, cheery songs fill our neighborhoods and their bouncy undulating flights carry them over the treetops.
The (golden) eagle has landed! Yep, I’m not kidding. For a few stalwart birders who have braved our cold, rainy spring, the reward has been the sighting of a Golden Eagle right here on South Whidbey.
I recently returned from a short trip to Arizona, and found my suet feeders empty. My feathered friends evidently took notice as I put out new suet cakes, for as soon as I returned inside to my desk, they swarmed toward the fatty buffet.
I recently picked up a phone message from a friend who exclaimed, “For three mornings I’ve heard a bird singing. Not the usual chirps or calls, but a real song. What is that bird?”
During our recent snowstorm, someone sent me a photo of an iridescent green-and-red hummingbird sitting forlornly at a frozen hummingbird feeder.
The days are getting shorter and the evenings colder and rainier. We’re slipping into the dark time of year and Halloween can’t be far away.
Whidbey Island in September is only one tiny, micro-spot on the southbound bird migration map. Some shorebirds, swallows, warblers, even…
Last week I opened the door of my potting shed and heard fluttering in one corner, down below the shelves….
It’s been a sad week for baby Barn Swallows. My friend Linda Bainbridge has Barn Swallow nestlings that she’s been…
May is the month when the miracles of avian life are most abundantly on display. One way to step outside…
