Day 261 of the Quarantine (November 30, 2020)
If a train whistle is the quintessential sound of Flagstaff, then the rapid, popping shek, shek, shek, shek of the Steller’s jay is the sound of Mountainaire.
I’m spending ten days in northern Arizona, visiting with the daughters who live the rugged, pine-forest community south of Flagstaff with their husbands and, in Kasondra’s case, two of my grandchildren, Giavanna and Zion. Actually, there isn’t much visiting. Melissa and her husband Chris chose the weeks following Thanksgiving to remodel their kitchen and bathroom and, as I do every year with every new project—the workshop two years ago and the library last year—I volunteered to help.
We cook simple meals of soup or eggs on the fireplace, take rare showers where we can get them, and utilize the convenience of the forest just beyond the backyard for other necessities. Melissa calls it “indoor camping.”
Since I want to keep up my checklist streak of daily ebirding (257 continuous days), every morning I mark off the numbers of juncos and chickadees, nuthatches, woodpeckers, and crows that ventured within sight or hearing. On the day something new appears, I go find my youngest daughter.
“Do you have brown creeper on your yard list?” I ask Melissa, who is recording the birds she can ID and photograph in her yard.
“No...” she reaches for her camera on her writing desk.
The treecreeper responds immediately when I play its call, fluttering like a dead leaf to the base of a ponderosa and then ascending while probing the furrows for spiders to fuel its diet of ten calories per day.
Thanks for subscribing! More to come in Mountainaire!
Have you been to The Museum of Northern Arizona? Evening Grosbeaks can be found at their feeders at the right time of year. We were there in late April when I saw them. I suspect they are there all winter.