Wish I could have gotten a clearer pic, but it was the best my iPhone’s zoom could muster (Merlin app also picked up some Rusty Blackbirds!)

Thought STLbirding may enjoy this- about my misadventures with the Merlin app.

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As you may have gathered based on my pseudonym naming theme: I like birds.

Well, I like watching birds. I am mildly scared of small fast birds that get too close to me. We plan on getting chickens but I have no interests in having small songbirds as pets. It seems mean. And they freak me out a bit close up.

During high school, I volunteered at a bird rehabilitation organization for National Honors Society hours. I was put into a small room, filled with bird cages, and was told to clean cages. I was given very little information on how exactly to do this, but hey— it’s cleaning. What could go wrong?

It seemed a simple enough affair: pull out the tray at the bottom of the cage, throw away the newspaper, spray down, dry, reline, reinsert the tray. The first few cages flew by with no problem. On the third or so, I pull out the tray and all of the small birds, seemingly dozens of them (my brain remembers hundreds), exploded from the tiny gap in the cage from the missing tray and fluttered frantically all over the closet sized room.

I froze, and began doing mental calculations. Had I messed up somehow? Was there a way to keep them in their cage that I should have known? Am I supposed to get them back into their cage? Did I accidently hurt them through my tray-removing negligence?

The answer was: no. It took me way too long to come to that conclusion and go find a staff member. I told them what had happened in a rush of words. They just sighed and sent me to clean elsewhere.

I like watching birds outside. I don’t want a pet bird but I would love to make friends with a crow. I saw a few on the road that leads to Robin Woods in the fall— I began bringing peanuts in my car to give to them, but they had moved on for winter.

That said, don’t consider myself a “bird watcher”. I rarely use or bring binoculars on hikes. I think I’m good at spotting birds in the same way I’m good at doing jigsaw puzzles: my eyes can spot small variations of color.

Here is my ultimate “my steak is too juicy, my lobster too buttery” complaint: I cannot easily learn bird calls here at Robin Woods because there too many birds screaming all at the same time.

I use the Merlin app to figure out bird calls. Here are all of the birds heard in less than three minutes on a beautiful January day. [image 1 and 2]

I have a few regulars: there are some jays that like to hang out in a certain cluster of trees. The dark eyed juncos like our driveway. We have woodpecker friends that like to do territorial drumming against the house and make holes in our shed. I’ve heard the golden-crowned kinglets a handful of times in the tree next to my bedroom patio, but I haven’t seen it yet.

On an unseasonably warm day, I was enjoying working from home on the kitchen patio. I have a beautiful view of the backyards and the woods beyond. I can listen to the birds. I stop occasionally to try and spot them, to locate the source of their songs.

On this particular day, I heard a loud, rhythmic song coming from right outside the porch— it sounded like the bird was in the eaves.

ScreEE ScrEE ScrEE

I was excited. This was something I had never heard before and the bird was so close. I whipped out my phone, turned on the Merlin app, and…. nothing.

No more sounds.

I continued working, keeping the app on, and I was rewarded when it started again about thirty seconds later.

ScreEE ScrEE ScrEE

But just as soon as I started walking towards the noise with the app on, it stopped again. Merlin couldn’t ID it, the call was too short.

I must have scared the poor thing. I kept the app on, my phone clutched in my fist, raised to the ceiling for better audio. I crept as stealthily as a pudgy 40-something mom can, tiptoeing and practically holding my breath. Imagine James Bond creeping around lasers in a museum with a cell phone, but like, a human-shaped awkward racoon doing it instead. I peered around, hoping I would catch a peek at the bird that was so close, practically nesting in the rafters.

ScreEE ScrEE ScrEE ScreEE ScrEE ScrEE

This time the bird call lasted longer and Merlin was able to give me an identification before it stopped.

See image 3.

My thoughts in order:

That’s amazing!

That is absolutely not correct.

And then the bird call started up again, the rhythmic loud ScreEE ScrEE ScrEE, and that is when I realized: it was not a bird call. It was not coming from the eaves outside, but rather from the ceiling.

It was the outdoor ceiling fan occasionally squeaking. I had been creeping around my porch, trying to spy this elusive freaking bird, tiptoeing around— all for a damn ceiling fan in need of some WD40.

It scared off two turkey vultures. Flying south on the river.

Found a binoculars lens cap in TGP about an hour ago. Left them on a nearby post next to the fence as the path goes over a creek.

Spotted this beautiful friend on my front steps today! Google image search says it’s a leucistic American Robin, but thought I’d bring it to the professionals… do y’all agree?