February 6, 2026

Where: the neighborhood

When: 11:15am

Bird Species: house sparrow, mourning dove, yellow-rumped warbler, northern mockingbird, northern cardinal, American robin, American crow, white-breasted nuthatch, Carolina chickadee, European starling, red-bellied woodpecker, blue jay, northern flicker, dark-eyed junco, downy woodpecker, Canada geese (flyover)

Things I Thought About:

• When I first got interested in birds, I was very smug, evangelically smug, about how appreciative I now was, and how observant and in tune with my surroundings I became, and, specifically, how I never wear earbuds on my walks anymore, you miss so much life around you, man. Now I find I must pop my earbuds in and turn on a book or podcast, because otherwise I will keep getting pulled off route, tracking down a bird sound, eating up minutes, and eventually end up having to take a Teams call in a balaclava.
• A sound that is not the sound of a bird is that of a squeaky school bus door being cranked open and closed on a cold day. Ask me how far I had to walk to figure that out.
• I listened to my first audiobook over three decades ago, a recording of Darren McGavin reading one of John D. MacDonald’s Travis McGee novels. It came on 6 cassette tapes and I listened to it on a solo drive from Gainesville, GA to Gulf Shores. He did 21 of them and you cannot find them anywhere anymore. They were abridged versions and didn’t make the leap to digital for library loans. Every now and then someone will buy one in a Friends of the Library sale, and certain subreddits will go nuts for a week. I cannot believe how vividly I remember those recordings. If you know those novels, and anything about Darren McGavin, you know that hearing the phrase "a message without a sound, a tan, sandy farewell" hit so fucking hard.
• A woman I have talked to a few times this year stops and we talk about the juncos in the snow nearby. She says she was just telling her husband how nice it is to stop and chat with your neighbors. I advise her to start carrying binos or a camera, “Everybody stops to chat.” She was visibly struck by the idea that, for juncos, we are the south that they fly to. People think of the place they are as the place they leave, and never as a destination, I think. 
• Flicker flicker flicker FLICKER. My interior monologue is now Joe Pantoliano on the phone in Midnight Run.

• And there’s Mrs. Cardinal! Who flew directly into a bush as soon as I saw her and is now too far away to focus, but I’ll probably post a pic anyway.

• And the flicker left from the other side of the tree at the same time, so I did not catch his yellow under tail feathers. I believe they are working together to stress and to spite me.
• The most vicious punishment I can offer either of these birds: you aren’t even going to be the bird of the day. Do better.

BOTD: the yellow-rumped warbler, famous from the incredibly accurate and true tweet.

I will be very honest with you: I don't know a lot about this bird. I know it is a winter warbler, and it is one of the first to show up in the fall and the last to leave in the spring, and they are the only ones I see around here. That's about it.

My iPhone photos app did not call it a yellow-rumped warbler and confused me, because I was really sure of the ID. I found out just now that the eastern variety is called a myrtle warbler! I love this. That's a good name. The western ones are called Audubons, which feels generic to me. Myrtle warbler is better. Apparently, their throats are different colors depending on which coast you see them on.

You are watching me learn more about birds in real time. My niece, the school disliker, would say this is the best way to experience learning: watching it happen to someone else who just tells you about it later.

Myrtle Warbler would also be a good name for an elderly choir director who solves crimes.

Birders call both varieties "butterbutts." I like that name, too.