One Man's Rust is Another's Gold

"Honey, I've gotta go," I said to my wife. "There's a life bird at my friend's house and it may still be there if I hurry!" I scrambled to my pick up, my parting words still echoing in the hallway as the door shut behind me. "Hey, wait!," my wife called out,"Where are you headed and what kind of bird is it?" No words have ever fallen on ears more deaf. Riding the fine line between hurry and stupid I made the ten minute trip in eight, hoping against reason that the object of my pursuit would still be present.

As I made my way up my friend's driveway I scanned the shrubs and trees he had carefully planted in years past. He had made is property bird friendly, knowing that it would draw birds to his yard, observing them easily from his front deck. I knocked on his door and we walked to the deck. "Normally, I've seen it fly in from the west, across the driveway into those trees." My friend pointed to a patch of young fir trees and various shrubs. "It's been hanging out with some Red-winged blackbirds," he added. "I last saw it yesterday at about 9:00." It was 9:30 and it wasn't showing yet. A twinge of anxiety involuntarily set my jaw and I carefully put my binoculars on every quail, chickadee and finch that strayed into the yard.

My friend's yard is strategically located between forest, pasture, cottonwood river bottom, and a perennial creek. Over the years it has attracted several rarities for our northeastern Washington county, including a Harris's Sparrow and a Palm Warbler in recent times. And now, once again, here in the middle of winter, another rarity had arrived. But not today...at least not yet.

I stayed for about 20 minutes, not wanting to create an awkward moment by camping on my friend's deck. I decided I would continue my birding elsewhere in the county, about an hour to the south. Yeah, that was the ticket. Get out of town, away from the uncooperative bird that had rousted me out of my house and alienated me from my wife.

I was in and out of cell coverage, but at about 11:30 I was alerted to an email from my friend - "It just showed up!" The time stamp indicated the message was sent at 10:00, about 2 minutes after I had left! The twinge of anxiety was now a reflexive muscle twitch in my neck and shoulder. What to do? Was it even possible the bird was still there, an hours drive away? I wasn't having great luck where I was at (although a Clark's Nutcracker and a pair of courting Red-tailed Hawks did highlight the day). I guess I could casually drop by again on my way home, shoot the breeze, curse my bad luck, etc.....see the bird.

I again made my way up my friends driveway, scanning the trees, the fence posts, the power lines, the ground under the shrubs. "Yeah ,it showed up just after you left," my friend reported. "Came in from the west." My right eyelid twitched perceptibly. "You okay?", my friend asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," I chuckled. "Thanks for keeping me up to date. I'll head home now." Back in my pickup I headed down the driveway. But wait. What? Was that motion in the top of that young fir tree? Now it vanishes. Now the outline of a dark robin-sized bird. I roll down the window and hear the gurgling song. Yes, that sounds right. Now it flies to a bare tree branch, followed by a second bird!

They perched three feet apart, the tell tale rusty margins on the wings and on the chest and back of the male. The female an overall rusty brown with lighter shaded stripe over the eye. Piercing bright eyes with stark black pupils on both birds told me I had struck lifer gold. Rusty Blackbird. My camera was brought to bear, snapping out 7.5 frames per second. I hurried back to my friend's door, knocking rapidly. "Take a look!", I said, showing the images on the screen of the digital camera. My friend and his wife were as happy as I was, thrilled at the photos I was able to take.

My wife met me on the front porch, "Hi sweetheart. You're finally home. Well, did you see it? What was it, anyway?"

"Yesssssss! I saw it, finally," I crowed triumphantly. "Life bird!"

''That's wonderful! I'm so happy for you. Come on, what was it?", impatience taking hold in her voice.

A knowing smile came over my face. A brief dramatic pause. "Rusty Blackbird"

"What, you couldn't find a shiny one?  Stayed out in the rain too long, no doubt. Poor dear."

My wife is great. She endures my birding habit, encourages me,  and is genuinely happy when I get a new life bird. But, oh, she can get her payback. (Love you, honey!). I examined the photos I had taken and found three that stood apart. I printed copies of them and put them in the mail to my friend. He and his wife thought they were great and she pans to frame them and put them up in their home.

Rusty Blackbird pair.

Rusty Blackbird female

Rusty Blackbird male

To some people, perhaps most, the thought of a Rusty Blackbird seems incongruous. What's the big deal about a blackbird with an odd name? To a birder, it means that persistence, camaraderie, wonder at the diversity of life, can all come together in an unexpected moment. What is rusty for one person can be golden for another.

Good Birding!

                       - Hawkeye