March 13, 2026

Where: the neighborhood

When: 8:45am

Bird Species: house sparrow, northern cardinal, American robin, American crow, European starling, Carolina chickadee, dark-eyed junco, tufted titmouse, downy woodpecker, house finch, Carolina wren

Things I Thought About:

• Thinking about the Zoom summit with my auntie pals last night, and how fun they are, and how I wish I hadn’t been so tired from a big week. Next time I start a new job, with completely new routines and new people and new information flooding me, I must try not to do it the week of a time change and several evening appointments.
• I have known this group of phenomenal women in online spaces for what is surely a decade now. We developed a group DM on Twitter for niece and nephew photos, and then a group text for EVERYTHING. Now, new this year, we play Zoom Yahtzee every couple of months. I once fat-fingered and deleted the text, and when I hit Restore it asked, “Restore 30,462 messages?” That was after I accidentally deleted it once already in 2021, before the Restore button existed. We’ve all watched each other’s various nieces and nephews change from babies to toddlers to teens to adults. We love each other. We talk every day. It is a very great joy to me.
• I’m sorry I had to download bird photos during the game.
• I really like the birds I see around here, more than the urban birds. A lot of variety.
• THANK you, thank you to this downy, singlehandedly dropping woodpeckers lower on my shit list. On top of the shitlist? Titmice. Come down here, idiots.

• This woodpecker is very carefully examining the tree trunk and deliberately selecting his spot. I’ve never really noticed this before, how considered the decision where to peck is. Meanwhile, this week I ripped my toilet paper holder out of the wall for a second time because I simply cannot be bothered to find a stud. I bought a free-standing holder.
• The aunties, and my osprey pal, and the person who told me the Willard Hotel near my new office is the hotel lobby for which lobbyists were named, are all online friends who became IRL friends, and they are all friends I made as an adult. Which is very hard! I will be the first to say I need more actual hugs and same room interactions, but these are extremely real friendships, which is why it is difficult to completely give up social media.
• Although God knows I want to. Love to start a regular commute into to DC just when everyone wants to start posting about terrorist sleeper cells. This is good, to me.
• On the other hand, I read seven chapters of a physical book on the train this week. Tomato, tomahto.
• I can’t find the song sparrow that is singing. All winter long they just kind of beep and chirp, but now I hear them all the time, doing the thing for which they are named. Lots of bird song this morning. 
• [audible gasp] Pinky. Good heavens.

• What's going on with you, Pinky? Is this a regular molting pattern? I thought he was pretty young, but I have been expecting those pink patches to grow in red. Not like this. 

• Maybe I was wrong in my confident pronouncement that he did not have leucism. Or maybe they always look worse before they look better as their adult plumage grows in? I have never known a cardinal personally like this and can’t speak to it. And I will never look this kind of stuff up; my birding experience and expertise is entirely observational in nature. I will monitor the situation, as much as he will consent to be monitored.
• Oh! I kind of thought all the juncos were gone now. I am 98% certain that I’ve seen my last white-throated sparrow of the year. I don’t even hear them anymore.
• That wren, though, is singing his fool head off. So MUCH birdsong this morning, and we know what that means: it’s spring and the birds are getting horny. Which, relatable.

• Maybe I will make a real-life friend in hugging range, now that I actually leave my home regularly. More unlikely things surely must happen from time to time.
• Quarterfinal post-season trivia tomorrow, LFG.

BOTD: the dark-eyed junco. Better get him while the getting is good; they are a hardy winter bird, and I don't hear them at all anymore. I like this bird, and their pink beaks especially. Their under-tail feathers show such a pretty bright white when they fly. They are so pretty and small, and real sweethearts. It always makes me happy to see one.

In the winter they forage on the ground together behind our buildings in big groups, but the only ones I’ve seen in the last week or so are like this guy, a single male, alone and up in a tree. I assume he is deciding whether today is the day to start a big trip, or if he should just chill in the sunshine another day.