It's Winter and the Blackbirds Are Here

A sure sign that winter is well on its way in Georiga is a yard full of blackbirds. Mine are almost always Red-winged blackbirds. They are rusty black with a streak or two of bright red and yellow just hiding below their wings. In flocks, their mechanical chirps blend together in winter’s version of the cicada whine. 

Today, they have been mobbing my birdfeeders - seeming to be the only thing that can keep the squirrels at bay. At any given time, there are at least 20 or 30 birds on and around the feeders. There are even a couple checking out the suet.

It's getting cold, and they are ravenous. 

The trees above are full of Robins, eschewing their spring proclamation to eat the last of various berries and then shit said berries all over my walkway. 

I love this time of year in Georiga. It’s fairly quiet on the bird front, but we still get a decent amount of activity in a prelude to spring migration. 

The White-throated sparrow has shown up again, the splash of yellow above their eyes standing in contrast to the otherwise muted browns of the rest of the bird. 

A flash of dusky yellow signals the Pine warbler, a year-round resident. 

The ever vocal Eastern Towhee, scrubbing around in the brush. 

And, of course, the flocks of Robins and blackbirds, taking over the tops of leafless trees and blanketing yards. And, though spring will bring with it competition for territory and mates, the dampened months of winter are a collective understanding where the health of the flock is more important than any single bird. It’s the Christmas Truce, the handshake deal, the willingness to share when resources are at their most limited. 

And yes, spring brings the brilliant plumages and vagabond warblers. But it’s now, in the between time, that we get at chance to see the the subtle beauty of birds.