Birding in the proximity of one's home takes on a whole new dimension in Mexico because we are afforded the opportunity to see some absolutely delightful creatures all within the comforts of the terraza, mirador or pool. In my previous incarnation as a longtime resident of Massachusetts the two most familiar backyard birds were the black-capped chickadee and the American robin. But here, I get to see birds that many nature tourists travel some distance to put on their life list, just while lazing about my house. Ahhh...Mexico!
The brown, curved-billed canyon cren is a bird I often hear and see near my home; it has a melodious song that beckons one outside. Its scientific name Catherpes Mexicanus, is derived from a Greek work signifying creeper (Mexican). It is the lively energetic bird I watch scurrying up and down the sides of our terrace and garden walls, inquisitively seeking insects.
Doing laps in the pool I am often amused to find myself swimming with violet-crowned hummingbirds. These tiny, white-breasted birds swoop in fearlessly to have a drink of water, blatantly ignoring the large mammal splashing her way back and forth. I hear the cry of the great kiskadee overhead as he watches the activity below from the vantage point of the large avocado tree. I still get to see American robins, but now I have also met the rufous backed thrush, a close relative, but native to Western Mexico, not seen elsewhere in the world. It has a beautiful song that thrushes are known for, which echoes in the evening before night falls. Now that winter is here, I am seeing some of the migrants from the US that like many of us are sojourning here to avoid the colder months up north. Wilson's warbler is the ubiquitous yellow warbler with the black cap, reminiscent of the American goldfinch, but like all warblers, is an insect feeder rather than a seed eater like the finches. "Mr. Wilson" is constantly flitting about our neighborhood.
My friend John Andersen has had the recent pleasure of nesting broad-billed hummingbirds in his garden, and is now watching the little ones grow too large for the nest. He has all the pride of a new father as he describes the progress, and I detect a faint sadness when he talks about the day when they will be leaving. He urges me to hurry over to see them before they go.
Bob and Janet Ballard of Chula Vista Norte, have an incredible array of birds who visit. The Ballards have devised an ingenious water drip system outside their kitchen window that attracts many of the bunting and tanager species of North America, sometimes all at once which is a sight to behold. They also have massive hordes of hummingbirds attracted to their nectar feeders and conversations on their terrace tend to be punctuated by the whirr of wings overhead as the hummers come in for their feeding.
When I lived in La Canacinta, I could see the white pelicans on the lake, blue herons, great and snowy egrets and an occasional black shouldered kite. On two occasions, both times in the presence of birding friends, we saw a barn owl fly over the yard at dusk. However, it must be admitted that we had imbibed a bit of wine at the time, so I am not sure if we really counted the sightings the next day.
Xill Fessenden, who lives in the village, was startled one day by the appearance of a hawk who flew into her house when her gallery doors were open. Even more startled were the Huichol women who visiting her, and they saw the arrival of the hawk as an evil omen of some sort. Xill assured them it was not: that a hawk in the house signified good luck in our culture. That may be a slight stretch of lore, but I completely agree: the presence of nature in and near our abodes is a very fortunate thing.
