“A Year of Birding in Bloedel” is a column that runs every Friday in the Bainbridge Islander. The project is planned to continue in 52 parts through 2014 to help readers find and identify birds in the island’s garden sanctuary. Beginning with this entry on the bald eagle, each column will also be published  here on the Bainbridge Conversation blog each Friday. 

The author, Ted Anderson, is a retired professor of biology, having taught at McKendree University (Ill.) for 32 years and for the University of Michigan’s summer biological station for 20 years, where he frequently taught the biology of birds.

Anderson is also the author of “Biology of the Ubiquitous House Sparrow, from Genes to Populations” (2006), and “The Life of David Lack, Father of Evolutionary Ecology” (2013). Ted and his wife Carol have been members of Bloedel Reserve for seven years. They live in Kingston. 

Mid-May brings the Black-Headed Grosbeak (Pheucticus melanocephalus) back to the Pacific Northwest from its wintering grounds in southern Mexico and Central America.

The melodious song of this denizen of forested habitats throughout the western states resembles the song of the American Robin, but is usually longer and is often punctuated by a “chunk” note that is typical of the species. The song is virtually identical to that of its close cousin, the Rose-Breasted Grosbeak, that replaces the Black-Headed Grosbeak in eastern North America.

Black-Headed Grosbeaks are sexually dimorphic with adult males, as their name implies, having a black head as well as black upper back, wings and tail. The underparts and rump are a rich cinnamon brown and the wings have prominent white spots. Females and first-year males have brownish upperparts and yellowish-orange underparts, and a white stripe over the eye. Both sexes flash large yellow patches under their wings when they fly.

In most songbirds only the male sings, but grosbeaks are an exception.

Females regularly sing a song similar to that of males, but less complex. Both sexes also participate equally in breeding activities, and both male and female may actually sing from the nest while incubating the eggs. The nest is usually located in the outer branches of a deciduous tree or shrub.

The large conical beak of grosbeaks enables them to husk large seeds, and they are frequent consumers of quantities of sunflower seeds at backyard bird-feeders. About half of their diet is insects, however, particularly during the breeding season. They typically forage high in deciduous trees gleaning insects from the foliage.

One interesting feature of grosbeak foraging is that they have adapted to eating Monarch butterflies, which are toxic for most birds, in their enormous winter congregations in the mountains of Mexico. The result can be a orange carpet of Monarch sings under the trees where they congregate to spend the winter.

At Bloedel, listen for their melodious song as you walk along the forested paths, and search the upper branches for a glimpse of this strikingly-plumaged songster.

“A Year of Birding in Bloedel” is a column that runs every Friday in the Bainbridge Islander. The project is planned to continue in 52 parts through 2014 to help readers find and identify birds in the island’s garden sanctuary.  Beginning with this entry on the bald eagle, each column will also be published here on the Bainbridge Conversation blog each Friday. 

The author, Ted Anderson, is a retired professor of biology, having taught at McKendree University (Ill.) for 32 years and for the University of Michigan’s summer biological station for 20 years, where he frequently taught the biology of birds.

Anderson is also the author of “Biology of the Ubiquitous House Sparrow, from Genes to Populations” (2006), and “The Life of David Lack, Father of Evolutionary Ecology” (2013). Ted and his wife Carol have been members of Bloedel Reserve for 7 years. They live in Kingston. 

It looks like a typical March week of persistent rain may keep many from visiting Bloedel for the next few days.

I will therefore focus this week on a year-round resident of Bloedel that is also a common yard bird in the Pacific Northwest, the Spotted Towhee.  The towhee is actually a sparrow, a large family of predominantly ground foraging, seed eating birds that also includes the juncos.  The name “towhee” actually comes from a cousin of the Spotted Towhee, the Eastern Towhee, that resides in eastern North America. That species has a unique alarm call that sounds as if  is coming out of a well that has been described as “towhee” or “chewink,” with the emphasis on the second syllable.

The Spotted Towhee, unlike most sparrows, has a strikingly beautiful plumage.  The head, chest, back and long tail of the male are black, the flanks are chestnut and the belly white.  There are white spots on the back, providing the basis for its name, and it has red eyes.  The head and chest of the female are deep brown instead of black.  On first sight some people confuse it with the American Robin, which is much larger, and it also resembles the male Dark-eyed Junco of the northwest, the “Oregon Junco.”

Spotted Towhees forage almost exclusively on the ground, vigorously scratching in the leaf litter in search of small insects, seeds and berries.  When I see that the mulch has been kicked out of one of our gardens onto the sidewalk, I know that a towhee has been foraging there recently.

The song of the Eastern Towhee is often described as “drink your teeeeeeeeeeeea,” the second note lower than the first and the trill that follows.  The song of the Spotted Towhee is similar, but lacks the “drink.”  Listen for the melodious trill as you walk along the forested paths in Bloedel.  When you hear a male singing, stop and search for this beautiful songster, which is usually perched at about eye level not far from the path.