Seward, Alaska
Sunrise 5:04 am, sunset 11:02
pm for a total day length of 17 hours and 58 minutes. Tomorrow will be 3
minutes and 57 seconds shorter.
A huge storm system rumbled
across the north Pacific over the past several days, sending cloud scouts at
first and then the heavies with rain ranging from fine mist to downpour,
accompanied at times with strong wind. The low 50s temperature felt mild, not
chilly. Miraculously, some blue sky appeared this afternoon, and the forecast,
gasp! is for THREE sunny days with temps in the low 70s starting SUNday. Thanks
to the rain, everything is green, green, green as the summer surges onward.
Adult and fledgling ROBINS
and VARIED THRUSHES have been feasting on green, and now almost ripe, red Red Elderberries. The
bushes, like willows and Mt Ash, are bird magnets: valuable, low maintenance
native plants ideal for wildlife landscaping. Every time I pass a loaded bush, the birds, young and old rocket out.
Many people are reporting
that their RUFOUS HUMMINGIBIRDS have departed. I still have at least one, and
will keep the feeders clean and full for another week or more. BTW, I really
like my new Audubon glass hummingbird feeder. It has a large opening that is
easy to clean, 4 ports, bee guards, and perches. It is heavy, but that only means hanging
it with a strong cord.
Many Tree and Violet-green swallows
have fledged and are now swooping about finding their own food. My neighbor’s
VIOLET-GREEN SWALLOWS, who spurned my made-to-specs swallow boxes for one of
several old vent holes in the soffit, are still feeding their hungry babies.
Today at the Post Office, I
heard incessant, insistent twittering from a nearby young spruce. The whole
tree seemed alive. I paused and found a fledgling TOWNSEND’S WARBLER sitting on
a branch, demanding food service. The frazzled mom soon appeared, bearing a
long-legged crane fly, and stuffed the body down the baby’s throat. The legs,
like thin wires, stuck out, but eventually disappeared as well. The baby then
sat, as if transfixed, as the wiggling crane fly settled deeper and deeper.
That must be quite the sensation! Meanwhile, the parent was long gone, dashing
about, gleaning insects from the spruce branches, rushing to fill orders from the
other twittering, invisible fledglings.
It was amusing to watch the one visible fledgling. She (yellow,
not black, throat) was in that awkward, intermediate, adolescent stage. Fluffy
baby feathers stuck out all over, stiff pinfeathers poked through, ready to
unfurl, and bright new feathers spoke of her future striking pattern and
beauty. While she waited for food service, she tried preening out those itchy
old feathers and stretched her tiny new wings. One more step towards
independence, and many more to go. (E.g. where does food come from?)
People walked past on their way
to the PO and back to their vehicles, apparently oblivious to these bright
yellow and black bits of the tropics, racing against time, the weather,
predators, and chance. If you can, take time to smell the roses AND look for
the source of that tiny racket in the trees. Soon they will be gone, but the
memories will sustain you all winter.
Happy Birding!
Carol Griswold
Seward Sporadic Bird Report
Reporter
