The Passage of Tanagers

Yesterday I was cycling through the countryside southeast of Davis, riding south on Mace, just across from Yolo Grasslands Regional Park, when I saw a brilliantly colored male western tanager in the lowest branches of one of the walnut trees lining the road. He flew ahead of me from tree to tree as I cycled on, and then flew across the road to land on the fence adjoining the grasslands.

Spring migration in the Davis area is an inconspicuous event, but still noticeable to the open eye and ear. I heard the soft warbling of a Swainson’s thrush in the yard this morning, as well as the chip of a Wilson’s warbler. And a grosbeak has in recent days been singing in the yard. The tanager, the thrush, the warbler, as well as most of the grosbeaks, will be moving on to the forests of the Sierras. I love the sounds of the Swainson’s thrushes and the black-headed grosbeaks—in the little canyon below the house just north of Berkeley where I grew up, their songs would resonate splendidly.