WE CAN ONLY HOPE FOR WAXWINGS

 

Cedar Waxwing 

Photo courtesy of Sharon Milligan

This article appeared in the Sun Herald in January 2006 – Although some information is outdated and has been marked with an * it may still apply to this week!

It appears we are being shortchanged on Cedar Waxwings. *I took a no-rhyme survey of birders in the past week and found just about everyone is experiencing a dearth of one of winter's most welcome visitors.

*It would be very easy, and probably correct, to lay the blame at Katrina's door. On the other hand, waxwings are nomadic by nature --- they come and go at their own choosing, not ours. *Last winter and well into late spring we watched some of the best waxwing shows ever, but we can't always have what we want, and this may just be one of those "off" years (in more ways than one).

Normally at this time of year, waxwings are eating fruit and berries --- they habitually strip all the edibles from pyracantha, Japanese privet, mistletoe, hackberry, holly, cedar, and so on. Once flowering trees start to blossom in spring, they turn to petals and insects. Wherever they are right now, we can be quite sure they aren't going hungry.

This species has always been at the top of my personal "best dressed" list --- it has such soft, latte-esque colors and such elegant and patrician features, not to mention that silky crest and velvety black mask. The dollops of red on the wings and the fringes of yellow on the tail are like add-ons, as if the greatest artist of them all just didn't know when to stop.

Another very good thing about waxwings is one hardly ever sees just a single bird, but rather anything from a small flock of a dozen or so to a really breathtaking swoop of hundreds. Their habit is to find a berry bush or budding tree and stay with it long enough to strip it clean before moving on. Lisping, sibilant conversation seems to accompany them whatever they do.

I have this scrapbook of visuals tucked away in my mind's eye for times like this, when we are missing some of the benchmarks of winter. I just close my eyes and see again, although it's been thirty years, a flock numbering thirty birds, give or take. It is dusk and they are whispering among themselves as they swirl around the pin oak just outside the living room window. The night grows cold, but I am curious about them, and there, in the beam of my flashlight, I find the waxwings asleep in the leaves, looking like leaves.

 Before I discovered waxwings roosting in that tree, I wasn't enamored of pin oaks. The dead brown leaves hung on stubbornly and would drop only when new leaves were ready to burst, usually just after the yard had been raked. Call it a flight of fancy, but, like other brush strokes of nature we don't understand, maybe old dried leaves are there because Cedar Waxwings like to sleep in them.

If you would like to learn more about Judy, click on the blue title above which will take you to the blog where you can read previously posted articles.