March into Spring!

March is a good month in western Washington, and my final March here has not disappointed. We’ve had a good deal of sunshine, along with plenty of rain and some hail. The sun is always a major mood booster after months inside of giant, gray clouds, and my spirits are equally buoyed by the awakening of plant life. The greening of the forest floor proceeds slowly but surely as the month proceeds. The leaves of Western Bleeding Heart and Pacific Waterleaf emerge in the first week, and the former flowers in sunnier places by the last. Stinging Nettles rise, demanding respect and tempting foragers. The wind-pollinated trees and shrubs let it all hang out; Hazels, Alders, Cottonwoods and Willows release and receive pollen as the ancients did, before plants partnered with insects to satisfy their sexual needs. Of course many insects are hatching or awakening now too, and these invertebrate links between plants and vertebrates in the food chain are welcomed to the mouths of birds and bats, and the anthers and stigmas of flowering plants.

Tree Swallows and Violet-green Swallows arrive from the other America to feed on early insects and secure nest sites. Rufous Hummingbirds, first males then females arrive, for their breeding season too, but most of the migratory breeding birds will show up in April. Meanwhile our year-round resident birds are rapidly gearing up to satisfy their biological imperatives. The songs and calls increase by the day, and fierce competition for mates and nesting sites enliven the pulse of the avian world. It is primarily that world that has drawn my lens this month, and thus it will dominate the photographic offerings of this post. I will also share a favorite wildflower, photographed today, March 31st. But in the meantime, let’s look at birds!

March is our last chance to see overwintering Trumpeter Swans, Cygnus Buccinator, before they fly to their northern breeding grounds. This individual on Lake Washington is looking quite regal. Safe journey and successful mating, your highness!

An Anna’s Hummingbird, Calypte anna, incubates her two eggs in a typically exquisite nest. The cup, which is only a couple inches across, is made of spider silk and moss, adorned with bits of lichen. It is lines with soft material, Cattail seed fluff in this case since she’s by a wetland. My friend, who goes by “Whispering Wind” on Instagram and Facebook, has a gift for finding hummingbird nests, and she shared this one with me.

Following up on this nest three weeks later we found two chicks very close to fledging. Here they silently beg their mom for regurgitated insects and flower nectar. The colorful gapes of chicks send a “put food here” message without the danger of attracting predators with loud begging vocalizations.

A Bushtit, Psaltriparus minimus, drops from a willow twig after gleaning it for insects and spiders. Like Anna’s Hummingbirds, Bushtits have only recently expanded their range out of the Southwest into the Pacific Northwest, but both are now common and beloved here.

A Black-capped Chickadee, Poecile atricapillus, searches a dead cottonwood leaf for spiders, insect eggs or larvae. The “deee deeee” mating song of this familiar favorite is a quintessential, and joyous, sound of spring.

The songs of Bewick’s Wrens, Thryomanes bewickii, are a delightfully prevalent sound in March. I’ve not photographed them in the act for years, but I did have the brief opportunity for this closeup a couple weeks ago. Thanks, little buddy, and good luck with the baby making!

Any self-respecting Cattail marsh, or other North American wetland, should have resident Marsh Wrens, Cistothorus palustris. These wonderful little wrens are mostly secretive, even singing their very complex songs while concealed by vegetation. But luckily the need to find mates and deter competitors does sometimes embolden the males to sing from conspicuous perches. After hearing this guy belt it out many times from afar I was thrilled to see he was on exhibition when I approached his virtuosic voice.

A Pied-billed Grebe, Podilybus podiceps, cruises Union Bay in Seattle, where so much of my early journey into birding and bird photography took place. While their breeding plumage (feathers) are the same as the rest of the year, their bill coloration changes, and gives them their common name.

Several Pied-billed grebes were present on this visit, and all were catching fish like the pros they are.

A California Scrub Jay, Aphelocoma californica, looks for action from a fence post. These Corvids are uncommon where I live, but abundant in oak woodlands of southwest Washington, Oregon, and yes, California and Baja California. Of course when I finally get a chance for some closeups of one they’re on an ugly post. Still, I’ll take it!

From the fence post into the grass, where moments after this shot our hero grabbed a fat, juicy caterpillar. I do have a picture of them with prey in bill, but it didn’t make the cut.

A Great Blue Heron, Ardea herodias, displays his magnificent plumage. When songbirds fluff their feathers they look like cute little “floofs”, but the same maneuver in a Great Blue evokes a samurai warrior in armor. It’s fitting since the yellow bill of death truly is the katana of the avian world.

After that grim reference to death by keratin I hope I can calm you with this lovely patch of Western Trillium, Trillium ovatum. The blooming of this beauty is indisputable proof that spring has sprung indeed.

That’s it for this time, my friends. Thanks for joining me. I hope you found some beauty and learned a thing or two. If you had this forwarded to you as an email, or are reading it on my website, please consider joining my mailing list yourself at https://www.geraldlisi.net/ Until next time, Take care of yourselves, of each other, and of the land you live on.