A Black Phoebe waits behind a knob in the Plum Tree ten feet above my head. Since I have decided, at least for now, this is my favorite bird, I should get to know it better.
Black Phoebes often sit alongside my path as I walk, allowing a short moment to appreciate these songbirds. Their feathers must be soft, since they appear ready to fluff, velvety and touchable. But I doubt I will ever touch one, as each time I have a moment of nearness, it truly is just a few seconds before the closeness is over and my chance is gone. The bird, also.
Still, I see the top-knot, the dark close-to-black coat, and the nimble feet. The piercing eye warns me my moment to observe is short. I swear that eye speaks to me on my walks when the bird is close. It seems to know it is controlling our encounters and, of the two of us, is the one that comes and goes by choice.
The bird in the tree above is too far away for me to see this taunting, but I am sure the expression is there, and I have a good amount of respect for the bird because of it. Larger than I would have guessed, it is bigger, I think, than the Bushtits that come in a brigade through my neighbor’s yard. The Bushtits are wary of me while the Phoebe seems to want to play. Maybe that’s why I place my attentions on the Phoebe first.
In hundreds of walks around my neighborhood, I have seen the Black Phoebe maybe 50 times, been able to focus for a moment perhaps ten times. I haven’t yet truly seen a Bushtit. They hide themselves in a way Phoebes don’t seem to need. Phoebes nearby assess me with an observer’s patience, not quite friendly, not unfriendly, just adhering to a remote curiosity that gives them the right to fly away. And soon.
Too soon for me, as I have forgotten to repeat verbally what I see. Experienced bird observers tell you to say aloud the attributes of the birds as they appear to you. It’s a memory trick that should help identify them later. I haven’t learned that trick yet, so I hope that the picture I have in my mind is enough. Dark, pointy head, soft-appearing, 6 or so inches long or tall, compact. There is strength in those 6 inches.
Merlin, the birding app, tells me they are often posed on a branch or in a bush. The photos in the app are like the image in my mind, but I hadn’t noticed the delightful fluff of a double chin. The Peterson Field Guide agrees. Peterson gives their size at 6-7 inches, classifies them as fairly common sightings and says they are flycatchers. Wouldn’t I love to see them in the act of catching a fly?
Today, I am satisfied to learn what I can and know that on my next walk, I can confidently tell my husband when a Black Phoebe is looking at us as we pass by.
Susan Vasquez 