The most memorable encounter we had on a recent visit to the San Diego Zoo wasn’t the Golden Eagle, Andean Condor or even the African Lion that delivered a ferocious roar just as we walked up. It was a Bullock’s Oriole that hung around us singing throughout our lunch stop.
We spent a day at the park as a part of our visit to the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance that has grown into a powerhouse of research, based at its Safari Park outside the city. We couldn’t pass up the chance to see the zoo’s original downtown location with its storied collection of exotic birds from all over the world.
An Anna’s Hummingbird works the flower baskets at the zoo.
But an odd thing happened as soon as we arrived. We couldn’t help but get distracted by all the wild birds that have taken up residence all over the grounds, from hummingbirds to egrets and herons to all manner of songbirds, including the bright yellow-and-black oriole that joined our lunch on a treetop patio overlooking the zoo.
As we made our way around the sprawling grounds to visit the exhibits, we kept our eyes open for wild birds attracted by the zoo’s rich landscaping and plentiful water and food supply. Some seemed to enjoy flaunting their freedom around their caged relatives.
The tiny Rufous Hummingbird slips in and out of the cages.
A California Towhee perches near the zoo’s noisy lion.
A Great Egret perched right at the top of the condor enclosure. One stop over, a Rufous Hummingbird, small enough to do as it pleased, kept landing right on the metal wires, half in and half out.
The lion’s roar echoed through his section of the zoo, but the California Towhees didn’t seem to see any threat. They perched on the trees within lunging distance of the big cat, suggesting he and his mate were getting all the meat they needed delivered by the zookeepers.
A Bewick’s Wren
We even came across a couple of species we hadn’t seen before. Looking much like its eastern cousins, a Bewick’s Wren danced around the outside of the bird section, an impressive string of aviaries with all manner of international species. Several of the hummingbird species were new to us.
We came across this spectacle on the edge of Galveston Island State Park in coastal Texas one recent rainy afternoon. The scene was transfixing: the egret leaps from the water one moment, tilts its heads far over to the side in the next and then appears to tiptoe.
Pileateds are the largest woodpeckers in North America, more than a foot tall with a wingspan of two feet. They are powerful birds with large claws and sharp beaks. All of those tools came into play as these two battled for the advantage.
Of the 37 species in the Eastern U.S., the male Prothonotary is the only one that glows. His head is a saturated yellow-orange, earning him the nickname “Golden Swamp Warbler.”
A fascinating new book by Jennifer Ackerman, The Bird Way, A New Look at How Birds Talk, Work, Play, Parent and Think, says birds have a rich social life. She says the language of birds can be complicated, emotional, and has its own syntax. This book suggests that birds will even lie at times, implying a level of sophistication far beyond what we always thought.
Birdsongs are primarily about mating and defending territory, but exchanges like this one that seem more like household conversations are part of the repertoire as well. The Cornell Lab’s Handbook of Bird Biology, the bible of bird life, says bird pairs of all kinds are constantly seen singing duets, chatting back and forth and sometimes simply working on their relationships by staying in close touch.
Robert Rice, a veteran bird scientist who spent his career with the Smithsonian’s Migratory Bird Center, explained what happens: “They can eat so much fruit, it ferments in their gut and they go wobbly for a while,” Rice said.
It’s a magnificent sight, one I assumed I’d miss this year with our limited mobility. But the other day, wandering through the trees not 50 feet from our home, I noticed what looked like a new arrival. It was the first of a flock of Cedar Waxwings that gradually became an avalanche, all collecting insects as if their lives depended on it.
