Rose-breasted grosbeak on a window feeder

The next generation of birds has taken wing. Yesterday the rose-breasted grosbeak that visits our window feeder brought, or at least led, two juveniles to our backyard. At least one was a male, dashing in browns rather than the black suit of his father. Dad chased his future rival a couple times before they all flew away.

Young birds were everywhere when I jogged this morning. A heavily-spotted juvenile robin stared at me from a shrub. I passed flocks of blackbirds that have lost the anchors of their nests and now dot fields, trees, and power lines. Individual birds drained off into the air as I ran, like water dripping at cross-purposes with gravity. Swallow families made a long row on a power line. One blackbird industriously harassed a red-tailed hawk, which the perching hawk did not deign to notice, before returning to a group.

Down the road, a second adult red-tail on a different utility pole had an apprentice, a juvenile perched just below. Its colors were muted so that the overall impression was shades of gray rather than the rusty tint of its parents. These hawks were probably searching for a mammal, but an unwary bird always makes a nice snack. Young birds tend to be more clumsy and less wary than their elders. My casual observation has been that they seem more likely to be killed by cars or by hitting windows.

Cats lurk along the edges of the morning, another trap for the careless. One pudgy tabby crouched in a ditch staring at me, trying out the “you don't see me” Jedi mind trick. One “cat” became a gray fox trotting down a dirt road lined by trees. The silvery fur and black striped tail of this native canine was a nice treat for me, but to the birds it's just another possible predator.