Drawing of Eastern Phoebe |
Just found out that my drawing of the Eastern Phoebe, Sayornis phoebe, has been accepted for
the 2016 Guild of Natural Science Illustrators (GNSI) Annual
Online exhibit. The exhibit runs for 6
weeks from July 1 to August 12 at the GNSI.org website. After that, it will be archived on the GNSI
website. This same drawing also appears
in the Field Guide to the Neighborhood
Birds of New York City, and I am proud that it was chosen to be part of the
exhibit. A pair of Eastern Phoebes
nested on an overhang on the back deck of my (soon-to-be ex-) house in New
Paltz/Gardiner. I watched the nest as it
was built with bits of leaves, dryer lint, grass, and mud; saw the bright white
eggs; heard the squeaks of the newly hatched birds, and watched the parents
take turns feeding and caring for their young.
I even watched as the parents sat on a nearby railing calling in their
raspy voices “phoebe, phoebe” to the babies to encourage them to try their
wings. Watching the little ones make
their first flights was an unforgettable thrill. A lot of websites say that Eastern Phoebes
are known as loners who usually do not raise their young together, but the ones
that I watched did not follow that pattern.
They were together at least until the little ones left the nest. That might have been the end of their affair
too.
Eastern Phoebes are small flycatchers that many people like
because they migrate early and are a good sign of spring. Audubon is said to have banded an Eastern
Phoebe with a piece of silvered thread in 1804 making it the first or one of
the first banded birds in North America.
Eastern Phoebes are in the passerine family—a family that is known their
toe arrangement: four toes—three facing forward and one backward, joining the
foot at the same level. This
configuration helps them to perch. By
the way, more than half of the world’s birds are passerines, so if you look
closely at the sparrows, finches, robins, and other commonly seen songbirds,
you will see that type of toe arrangement.
I’ve read that they often reuse their nests, but it won’t
happen at my house in New Paltz. After
the little ones had fledged, a bad storm knocked it down and some little animal
pulled it apart, thankfully in vain. No
one was home.