Taken in Oregon. Photo by A. W. Anthony.
A PROFESSIONAL OOLOGIST.
A little glimpse of Nature’s prodigality in this regard was afforded by a pair which nested on my grounds in the Ahtanum Valley. On the 4th of June I came upon a nest in a rose bush, containing four young just hatched, and these almost immediately disappeared—a second, or possibly a third, attempt for the season. On July 4th in an adjoining clump the same pair was discovered with three well-fledged young, which, for aught I know, reached days of self-dependence. On July 24th a nest was found some twenty feet away containing four eggs, which I knew, both by the familiar notes and by elimination, to belong to this pair; but the nest was empty on the day following.
At the beginning of the season nests are frequently made upon the ground under cover of old vegetation, or at the base of protecting bush clumps in swamps. Occasional ground nests may also be found thruout the season. One seen at Stehekin on August 3d was nestled loosely in a recumbent potato vine. At other times any situation in bush or tree, up to twenty feet, is acceptable, if only within convenient reach of water. A favorite building site is amid the debris of last year’s flood water, caught in the willow clumps of creek or lagoon. With high boots one may wade the bed of a brushy creek near Yakima and count certainly on finding a Merrill Song Sparrow’s nest every five or ten rods.
No. 57.
RUSTY SONG SPARROW.
A. O. U. No. 581 e. Melospiza melodia morphna Oberholser.
Description.—Adults: Somewhat like M. m. montana but coloration much more rufescent, general color of upperparts rich rusty brown, ashy gray of M. m. montana represented by rusty olive and this reduced or (in some plumages) almost wanting; black mesial streaks of scapulars, etc., much reduced, indistinct or sometimes wanting; underparts heavily and broadly streaked with chestnut usually without black shaft lines; sides and flanks washed with olivaceous. “Young, slightly rufescent bister brown above, the back streaked with blackish, beneath dull whitish or very pale buffy grayish, the chest, sides and flanks more or less tinged with buffy or pale fulvous and streaked with sooty brownish” (Ridgway). Length about 6.40 (162.5); wing 2.60 (66); tail 2.56 (65); bill .50 (12.7); tarsus .67 (17).
Recognition Marks.—Sparrow size; rusty brown coloration; heavily spotting of underparts distinctive save for the Passerella iliaca group from which it is further distinguished by smaller size and varied head markings.
Nesting.—Nest: As in preceding. Eggs: usually 4, averaging darker in coloration and larger than in M. m. merrilli. Av. size, .87 × .63 (22.1 × 16). Season: second week in April to July; two or three broods.
General Range.—“Breeding from extreme southern portion of Alaska through British Columbia (including Vancouver Island) to western Oregon (north of Rogue River Mountains); in winter, south to southern California (Fort Tejon, etc.)” (Ridgway).
Range in Washington.—Common resident west of the Cascades; found chiefly in vicinity of water.
Authorities.—? Audubon, Orn. Biog. V. 1839, 22. M. rufina, Baird, Rep. Pac. R. R. Surv. IX. 1858, p. 481. (T). C&S. L¹. Rh. Kb. Ra. Kk. B. E.
Specimens.—U. of W. P. Prov. B. BN. E.
If one were to write a book about the blessings of common things, an early chapter must needs be devoted to the Song Sparrow. How blessed a thing it is that we do not all of us have to go to greenhouses for our flowers, nor to foreign shores for birds. Why, there is more lavish loveliness in a dandelion than there is in an imported orchid; and I fancy we should tire of the Nightingale, if we had to exchange for him our sweet poet of common day, the Song Sparrow.
Familiar he certainly is; for while he has none of the vulgar obtrusiveness of Passer domesticus, nor confesses any love for mere bricks and mortar, there is not a weedy back lot outside of the fire limits which he has not gladdened with his presence, nor a disordered wood-pile or brush-heap which he has not explored. Much lurking under cover in time of rain has darkened his plumage beyond that of the eastern bird, and close association with the fallen monarchs of the forest has reddened it, until he himself looks like a rusty fragment of a mouldering fir log.
It is as a songster, however, that we know this sparrow best. Silver-tongue’s melody is like sunshine, bountiful and free and ever grateful. Mounting some bush or upturned root, he greets his childish listeners with “Peace, peace, peace be unto you, my children.” And that is his message to all the world, “Peace, and good-will.” Once we sat stormbound at the mouth of our tent, and, mindful of the unused cameras, grumbled at the eternal drizzle. Whereupon the local poet flitted to a favorite perch on a stump hard by, and, throwing back his head, sang, with sympathetic earnestness, “Cheer up! Cheer up! Count your many mercies now.” Of course he did say exactly that, and the childish emphasis he put upon the last word set us to laughing, my partner and me, until there was no more thought of complaint.
SONG SPARROW ASLEEP.