Suddenly, it’s mid-July, and the halcyon days of summer so beloved by Sunshine Coasters are here. The days are hot and dry, the sky is blue, and our visual landscapes are painted in intense colours. The summer evenings are warm and indolent, and scented by honeysuckle, as the 9 p.m. sundown gives way to an extended orange afterglow. The sky to the north and west finally darkens at 11 p.m. I live on Redrooffs Road, Halfmoon Bay, and last night, about 10 p.m., the crescent moon dropped dead centre into the gap of Welcome Pass between Jeddah Point and Thormanby Island. Is there a better place in the world to watch a sunset?
The evening’s soundtrack in early July is dominated by Swainson’s thrushes, of course. From my deck I can hear their song emanating from all points of the compass. Each male sings intermittently, along with the “whit’’ call note. It is hard to know exactly how many different individuals I can hear, but maybe 10 to 12, indicating the absolute abundance of this species on the Sunshine Coast in the summer. Early July is the final vocal flourish of the thrushes, as by mid-month their singing season is winding down. There may be the occasional singer through the third week of July, but after that their presence is only revealed by the “whit” call. The birds will be with us into September, before they return to the tropical forests of central and South America for the winter.
While listening to the Swainson’s thrushes, the background choir is dominated by white-crowned sparrows, spotted towhees and willow flycatchers. All these species are ubiquitous at low elevation where there is open or brushy habitat such as gardens. The sparrow sings a slightly mournful song, the towhee a wide variety of songs and calls, and the flycatcher sings an emphatic “fitz-bew” which is its song but is not really a song. Other species add their occasional contributions: robins, yellow-rumped warbler, warbling vireo, western tanager, flicker, and crows and ravens. One singer, the house wren, that has dominated the music in my garden since May has already gone largely silent.
Many species are diminishing in our attention at this period, but this is the time of the common nighthawk. These birds nest in clearcuts and openings at mid to high elevations, but on warm evenings in July and August, they congregate into flocks and forage overhead scooping insects into their wide gapes as they fly. Flocks are often of 10 to 20 birds, but 250 to 300 have been reported.
To report your sightings or questions contact [email protected] or 885-5539. Good Birding.
