The jungle drums let me know when there’s something different with the natural order.
Those “drums” come as emails with several arriving recently asking about an unusual, shiny black bird that has shown up in coastal and inland areas.
Nature lovers have noticed this new arrival and they are curious.
Readers recognized the bird was too small to be a crow or raven and doesn’t hang out in flocks like the ubiquitous blackbird. It also has a distinctive top knot and bright red eyes.
“I’ve only seen it from a distance, but could it be a phainopepla?” asked an astute reader who had spotted this summer visitor in the oak trees around a local park.
Our mystery guest is a phainopepla, and anyone who has spent much time watching birds in the desert would have likely recognized this species of silky flycatcher, which is most common in the arid regions of the southwest.
It’s not really a mystery guest. A check with recorded sightings of phainopepla at ebird.org shows they are scattered across the county throughout the year, but their population does move westward in the warmer months.
Like many desert dwellers, phainopepla seem to enjoy escaping summer heat by moving to the milder coastal and inland areas of our county.
According to the “San Diego County Bird Atlas,” the phainopepla is a common bird in the Anza-Borrego Desert, but largely absent in summer months.
Most birders seeking to observe or photograph phainopepla will venture to the desert where the bird can be dependably spotted around the thickets of mesquite and catclaw where there is an abundance of its favorite food.
They love the tiny fruit of desert mistletoe.
This diet choice also makes this bird a primary source for spreading mistletoe, since the seeds are not digested and through the body to be deposited as they perch in new locations.
While many species of birds have a single nesting cycle, the phainopepla may breed at two different times of the year, first in the early spring desert and then again in the oak and sycamore groves away from the desert during warmer summer months.
Avian scientists are not sure, however, because migration routes have not been clearly identified.
While phainopepla do nest in both desert and more western locations, there are still questions to be answered.
Do the desert breeding birds move to coastal areas to breed again, or are their distinct regional breeding populations? Is it possible that coastal breeding is the result of failed breeding in the desert?
We will leave that to the scientists who study these things, but for the backyard bird-watcher, this is time to enjoy the increased numbers of phainopepla and keep an eye out so you can add it to your life list.
Nest locations on the coastal slopes have been observed in oaks, wild elderberry, sumac, manzanita and chamise natives, and in non-natives such as eucalyptus, pepper and olive trees.
As I was writing this column, a pair of bickering male phainopepla showed up here at Mt. Hoo and allowed me to get a few good photographs. I have not seen a female.
The jet-black males are easily distinguished from females, which are a dark gray in color. Both have striking red eyes.
Sound the jungle drums if you see one.
Wren nesting update
As I wrote in an earlier column, the nesting cycle for house wrens was delayed several weeks this year, likely due to the cold, wet winter in Southern California.
The camera inside the nest box on Mt. Hoo did not see any activity until the end of May, with the first egg laid on June 8.
We’ve watched the nesting cycle each year for five years, thanks to a video feed into a television in the house.
Historically we have had seven eggs each year, but only five this year. Four have hatched and one egg remains unhatched.
Normally, once chicks arrive, the male jumps into action and brings food to help the mother wren.
We have not seen an additional bird helping with food. This could mean the male wren was killed while defending the nest from another male attempting to claim the nest box as his own. This happened once before and is not uncommon.
That year I noticed a male intruder in the nest box and was shocked as he tossed out the seven chicks so he could attract an unpaired female to a nest ready to go.
I rushed out and put the helpless little birds back in the nest, and mom returned to continue feeding them.
The intruder returned and again ejected the chicks and I put them back again. I spent the rest of the day in a chair near the nest to shoo away the unwelcome male.
Sadly, the trauma of being tossed from the nest twice and the task of mama wren feeding seven chicks was just too much, and only three survived that year.
It’s amazing how attached and invested you become to these beautiful little birds.
It’s a joyous, but sad moment when they leave the nest.
You can follow the progress of the chicks at “Updates from Mt. Hoo” on Facebook.
Cowan is a freelance columnist. Email [email protected] or visit erniesoutdoors.blogspot.com.
