Male Dark-eyed Juncos sing an even, musical trill of 7-23 notes that lasts up to 2 seconds. It’s similar to the songs of both the Chipping Sparrow and the Pine Warbler, and is loud enough to be heard from several hundred feet away. Both sexes sing a much quieter song as well, a series of whistles, trills, and warbles that may sound like an American Goldfinch. This song typically doesn’t carry any farther than about 40 feet.
CALLS Juncos have a high, short chip note that they often give in rapid succession when they fly and more slowly as they forage; the note may encourage other juncos to follow. A sharp but musical kew seems to indicate aggression and encourages two birds to move apart; it’s usually given by the dominant bird. You may also hear juncos give a high, fast twittering call of 6–19 notes during altercations or as birds flush.
Heard in early April in our yard, identified with help from Pasadena Audubon Society.
John Rodgers says:
The whole recording is of a Bewick's Wren! Its vocalizations often include a repetitive single high-pitched note as well as a more varied series of whistles like you've recorded here.
In his 1889 Ornithology of Illinois, Robert Ridgway attested that “No bird more deserves the protection of man than Bewick’s Wren. He does not need man’s encouragement, for he comes of his own accord and installs himself as a member of the community, wherever it suits his taste. He is found about the cowshed and barn along with the Pewee and Barn Swallow; he investigates the pig-sty; then explores the garden fence, and finally mounts to the roof and pours forth one of the sweetest songs that ever was heard.”
The Chinese calendar had it right. Insisting that spring begins in February is to begin a season at the beginning, when the season is only just awakening, a quiet stirring.
Spring begins as the east wind melts the ice, when insects begin trembling, quivering, shivering. In Tokyo, it begins when the nightingales sing:
––ho-hokekyo––ho-hokekyo
Chanting a thousand times a day, like a Buddhist sutra. The beginning of spring is cold. Plum blossoms covered in snow shimmer by moonlight.
In Pasadena, it is the bulbuls that sing the beginning of spring, sweetly on cold mornings. Sometimes mornings in February bring the parrots, squawking maniacally in the trees or as they move across the sky in gigantic flocks. At night, peacocks shrieking in the palm trees can be heard for miles:
"Spring is here, Spring is here!"
And, “Oh how charming it is when the dandelions appear in the second month,” Lady Sei Shonagon might say. Dandelions blanketing my neighbor's lawn, I think, "Isn't it charming?" Then with the third, fourth, fifth flush of oranges, comes the goldfinches. Like fluttering golden chunks of sunshine, little piggies flying, I watch them feasting at the bird-feeder out my kitchen window.
Spring begins as the east wind melts the ice, when insects begin trembling, quivering, shivering...
According to the ancient Chinese calendar, the season beginning on March 5th, is called Keichitsu (啓蟄): March 5, signifying the awakening of hibernating insects. As things begin to thaw, all kinds of insects begin to emerge in the soil... including worms.
And this is why the moon is referred to in the north of Europe as the Worm Moon of March. Occurring close to the spring equinox the full moon of March is often a super moon. This is also a time of peach blossoms, swallows begin singing and other wonders...
Here, our little flying piggies are back in huge numbers. Both feeders are totally maxed out and they are eating us out of house and home.
PUBLISHED: February 22, 2020 at 6:28 a.m. | UPDATED: February 22, 2020 at 6:28 a.m.
It happened when the the king of the demons left his golden abode on the island of Lanka in order to invade heaven. A surprise attack, all the gods fled in terror. One god named Indra-- known as the god with a thousand eyes -- took refuge under the wings of a peacock. In those days, peacocks were dull and colorless creatures. In gratitude for this protection, Indra granted the peacock the blessing of a thousand beautiful blue-green eyes of his own --for which to adorn his unusually long tail. With the power to kill poisonous snakes and serpents, the peacock has been venerated in India from very ancient times as a symbol of renewed life and rebirth. Serving as the mount of the Kartikeya, eldest son of Siva and commander of the army of the gods; is it the peacock alone who does double duty in the pantheon of gods? For the peacock also serves as the vehicle of Kama, the god of love and desire, and sometimes mount of Saraswati, goddess of wisdom.
Perhaps because of the famed --and mysteriously misplaced-- Peacock Throne of the Mughal kings or perhaps because of how often one can happen upon a peacock whilst strolling in a Persian-style garden, I had always associated the national bird of India with the north. But, according to a charming essay by P. Thankappan Nair, peacocks are originally native to southern India, where since time immemorial been a harbinger of the coming rains. Bringing relief from mounting days of great heat, the monsoon brings with it the blessings of renewed life and fertility. Likened to union of lovers, the ancients saw the rains as the coming together of heaven and earth. In European alchemy, the peacock is also a symbol of union and the harmonious integration of opposites. So during the time of great heat, the plaintive cawing of the peacock--dancing bird in the rains-- heralds the blessings to come.
And, wow, they are loud! During mating season, their shrieking could wake the dead! And, more, what are they doing roaming the streets of Pasadena, California? Have you ever heard of the parrots of Pasadena? Well, if they are not loud enough, we also have peacocks!
For me, it was definitely NOT love at first sight. In fact, I took to complaining bitterly about our neighborhood peacocks. Their nightly shrieking during mating season had me up night after night. And I need my beauty sleep! I was initially surprised that no one had started an online petition to get rid of them-- as had happened in this village in Durham County, England, where the population was similarly kept awake at night and terrorized by a party of peacocks. I will even admit, I laughed when one of the beleaguered villagers wondered about how they might taste!
"I've never heard of roasted peacock, have you? "
Complaints in Durham included sleep deprivation, peacock poop and damage to cars--and I thought, we have all that! But my neighbors were surprisingly patient, "The kids just love them..." they reminded me. Two neighbors had even been seen feeding them.
I just hated them--that is, until I finally saw the males in action.
"My Lords and Peacocks" said King George III.
The first time I saw King George (he is my favorite), he was gazing at himself in the reflection of a very clean and shiny BMW down the street. He just stood there staring at himself... At first I thought he was admiring how pretty he was (I could hardly blame him, to be honest) but then he began pecking the door of the car. Okay, so this is why people in our neighborhood are complaining about "tiny dents" in their cars. (That's what you get for having such a clean car?)
Watching him, I realized he was pecking at his own reflection, because he thought that it was another bird!
Ok, maybe he isn't the smartest. But what a specimen he is. Look at his sapphire neck--deep blue like the heavenly firmament in a illuminated manuscript. And that elegant crest, like the crown of an emperor. And how about his outside train feathers trailing behind him, speckled like a cobra. I wish you could see him in flight--just an orange streak of his under feathers streaming by you. Oh my God, was I falling in love?
It was about this time that my friend Sally told me about Flannery O'Connor's peacocks. Did you know Flannery O'Connor lived on a farm she named Andalusia, where she had forty beaks to feed? She loved her peacocks, calling them the king of the birds. This wonderful infatuation began when she was five--captured on film with chickens--and it developed from there. No matter how her family complained, she remained firm in her devotion.
Reading her essays in Mystery and Manners, I quickly realized that when it comes to peacocks, the Anglo tradition is really very different from the Indian one. Whereas the Indian tradition views them as symbols of love and beauty; in the anglo tradition, we tend to associate peacocks with vanity and pride. This notion stretches all the way back to Aristotle, who remarked that, "Some animals are jealous and vain like a peacock." I used to feel the same about peacocks--that is, until a party of peacocks (five females and three males) moved in to our neighborhood last year. And you know what? The more I watch our peacocks here in Pasadena, the more I am sure that the Indian tradition has it right. They are wondrous and enchanting. Especially when the males display and dance underneath an iridescent galaxy of radiating suns (like Indra's Net?) in the brilliant California sunshine. Turning round and round, displaying their "underpants" (as Flannery describes it) shaking and rattling their quills--they are more beautiful than a rainbow when they dance. And yet looking around, the peahens always seem utterly nonplussed.
Been there, done that...?
And, reading Flannery O'Connor I see that I am not the first person to have been surprised by their hideously ugly feet! Scrawny chicken legs and that God-awful shrieking--ke ka ke ka ke ka -- over and over as their turn round and round, rattling their quills like lunatics.
Oh, my beauty, how did you lose your golden voice? And where did you get those chicken feet?
A devout catholic, Flannery O'Connor was well-aware that in the Christian tradition as well, the peacock is a symbol of eternal life and the resurrection. The ancient Romans believed that peacock flesh would never rot. Augustine of Hippo would later test this in Carthage, noting that, “A year later, it was still the same, except that it was a little more shriveled, and drier.” Because they molt in autumn with their feathers coming back in the spring, peacocks came to represent resurrection and the Reborn God. Spring. And Easter. A friend on Facebook drew a marvelous picture of a Pesach Peacock! "The splendor of Easter and beautiful vision," says another friends. This is why you you can spot them in Christian artwork from mosaics and reliefs in the basilica of San Marco to depictions in Renaissance paintings by Antonello to Fra Angelico and Fra Filippo Lippi. And just like in ancient India, Europeans of the Middle Ages also believed that peacocks could kill poisonous serpents.
“You shall know the truth,” said Flannery O'Connor, “And the truth shall make you odd.”
This is one of my favorite quotes by Flannery O'Connor. And she was odd. But peacocks are odd too. So it seemed like a match made in heaven, when I learned that guarding the gates of paradise at her Georgian farm named Andalusia was a hoard of peacocks--so numerous she didn't dare count them; for a she explained, “I intend to stand firm and let the peacocks multiply," she said, ending her essay "The King of the Birds" saying, "For I am sure that, in the end, the last word will be theirs.” And so it should be.
PUBLISHED: February 22, 2020 at 6:28 a.m. | UPDATED: February 22, 2020 at 6:28 a.m. All the trouble started when the king of the demons left his golden abode on the island of Lanka to invade heaven. A surprise attack — all the gods fled in terror. Indra, known as the “god with a thousand eyes,” took refuge under the wings of a peacock. In those days, peacocks were dull and colorless creatures. But the peacock was just the ticket. And in gratitude for this protection, Indra granted the peacock the blessing of a thousand beautiful blue-green eyes of his own to adorn his unusually long tail.
The national bird of India, peacocks have long been seen as a harbinger of the coming rains. Bringing relief from those unbearable days of mounting heat, the monsoon carries the blessings of renewed life and fertility. Likened to a union of lovers, the ancients saw the rains as the coming together of heaven and earth.
But, wow, peacocks are loud! During mating season, their shrieks can wake the dead! Beautiful and loud. But what are they doing roaming the streets of Pasadena? For me, it was definitely not love at first sight. In fact, I complained bitterly about our neighborhood “muster.” Their fingernails-on-the-blackboard mating calls had me up night after night. And I need my beauty sleep! I was initially surprised that no one had started an online petition to get rid of them, as had happened in one village in Durham County, England, where the population was similarly kept awake at night and terrorized by a pride of peacocks. I will even admit I laughed when one of the beleaguered villagers wondered about how they might taste!
“I’ve never heard of roasted peacock, have you?”
Complaints in Durham included sleep deprivation, peacock poop and damage to cars — and we have all that! But my neighbors were surprisingly patient, “The kids just love them,” they said. Two neighbors had even been seen surreptitiously feeding them.
I just hated them — until I finally saw the males in action.
“My Lords and Peacocks” said King George III.
The first time I saw King George (my current favorite), he was gazing at himself in the reflection of a very clean and shiny BMW down the street. At first, I thought he was admiring how pretty he was. I could hardly blame him. But then he began pecking the door of the car. So this is why people in our neighborhood are complaining about “tiny dents” in their cars. That’s what you get for having such a clean car?
Watching him, I realized he was pecking at his own reflection, because he thought that it was another bird!
OK, maybe he isn’t the brightest. But what a specimen. With his shimmering sapphire neck — that blue is like the heavenly firmament in a medieval illuminated manuscript. And his elegant crest? It’s like the crown of an emperor. Then there is the pièce de résistance: his train. His walking-around feathers, speckled like a cobra, vanish in flight as the blinding orange streak of his under feathers stream by you. Oh my God, am I falling in love?
Like the parrots here, there is a human story behind why we have roaming parties of peacocks in Pasadena. It all started when a certain Lucky Baldwin traveled out west from Ohio, in search of riches. And he found them too —mainly in his investments in mining stocks and land. Friends with Wyatt Earp, he loved racehorses and imported peacocks from India to his large ranch in Arcadia, where they roamed free. Why peacocks? Well, they kill snakes and are better guards than watchdogs, he reported. “You shall know the truth,” wrote Flannery O’Connor, “And the truth shall make you odd.”
Flannery was odd. Her peacocks, too. Guarding the gates of paradise at her Georgia farm was an ostentation (yes, that’s the word!) of peacocks. “I intend to stand firm and let the peacocks multiply,” she wrote.“For I am sure that, in the end, the last word will be theirs.” And so it should be.
Leanne Ogasawara writes a monthly column at the arts and science blog 3 quarks daily.
My first impression of Japanese new year was of how very, very quiet it was.
Until more recent times, the Japanese calendar was based on the Chinese solar-lunar calendar, so oshogatsu fell closer to the spring equinox—like the Chinese New Year of today. Therefore, it was both a celebration of the new year, but also a welcoming back of spring (and new life).
In spite of its obvious celebratory mood, for me it will always be the Quiet Holiday. And that is saying a lot in a country that is pretty quiet anyway-- well at least compared to Hong Kong!
Lasting several days, it is as if the entire country has been blanketed in a heavy snowfall.
**
The First Day of the First Month-- in addition to its names referring to the coming of Spring-- 新春、猛春、開春—the old calendar term for January was “mutsuki” 睦月. Mutsu means "intimate, harmonious or friendly," so mutsuki signifies that this was month "when people come together." It’s true, for even today, oshogatsu above all is a time for families to re-connect, as all over Japan, people return in great waves—emptying out of the cities—to return to their hometowns.
When I lived in Tokyo, I always thought the city felt almost like a ghost town during the New Year holiday--even Tokyo Station emptied out.
In Japan, it is also a time of reflection and contemplation, and I think it was this aspect of the holiday that drew me in so deeply when I first arrived in Japan. Of course, in America, we make our New Year’s Resolutions, but that is perhaps the extent of the contemplative aspect of the holiday. For most Americans, I think New Year is a great party. A celebration of what will probably be another great year.
In Japan, perhaps more in common with Easter, the coming of spring is of course a reference to new life and the ability to renew; to be re-born. And, the holiday is marked by its reference to “the firsts”—
The first dream 初夢 The first glance in the mirror 初鏡 The first visit to the Shrine 初詣 The first bath 初湯 The first smile 初笑
Along with spring, the self is also reborn and one should experience all the blessings in life as if they were happening for the first time. Contemplation underpins this holiday in a way I wouldn’t have been able to imagine had I not gone and lived there. And I love that. You look at your image in the mirror all the time. The First Glance in the Mirror, however, urges you to step back, empty your mind and really look. 改めてみること。Look again; look deeper, and look with a clear heart explains my favorite book of Japanese seasons.
Mirrors have long played a religious role in Japan. Like many cultures, the Japanese thought they had the power to show a person’s soul. Symbolizing wisdom, one of the Three Sacred Treasures (三種の神器) of the Japanese Imperial family from the beginning of time in Japan has been a mirror. Mirrors are also a symbol of Japanese New Year in the form of glimmering white and transparent mochi. The most popular New Year’s decoration, kagami mochi 鏡餅、is just as the name implies in Japanese, “mirror rice cakes.” Long ago, they were solely offerings traditionally made at shrines and temples. White rice cakes like mirrors to reflect the image of god as well as the soul of the person making the offering.
Oshogatsu requires a lot of preparation. Not just cooking but traditionally women spent a lot of time cleaning their homes to start the year pristine as possible....
In addition to the cleaning, there are the foods to arrange and other decorations. One aspect of the holiday that was hard for me to become accustomed to was the stress on endings. Not only do things need to be prepared on time, but even more—things need to be finished on time.
A few years ago, Yoshimi called me on the telephone. “Is Osawa-san alright? Her New Years decorations are still out so I have become very worried about her.”
The proper day you should put away your decorations depends on where in Japan you live, but in many places it’s the first full moon of the month, known as Small Oshogatsu. That is usually the official day for bringing your decorations to the shrine to be burned. It was always a challenge for me to get the endings right. No matter how much I enjoy the preparations and the holiday itself, I tended to forget that there was a specific day in our town that the decorations are meant to be taken down. But now, when I look back, I think these calendrical events give form to life in a very significant way-- they call us to look beyond the everyday busy-ness and need to control things, and to just let go to "how things are done" according to the calendar.
I hope you all enjoy your new year wherever you are!
++
Philip Larkin~~~ FIRST SIGHT
Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro All they find, outside the fold, Is a wretched width of cold.
As they wait beside the ewe, Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies Hidden round them, waiting too, Earth's immeasurable surprise. They could not grasp it if they knew, What so soon will wake and grow Utterly unlike the snow.
We hadn't been able to go to the farmer's market in about six weeks. I was so curious to see how farmer's market in California would reflect "winter." According to the old calendar, this is the season when winter can first be felt (立冬). In Japan, things would start to feel quiet and water would freeze (海凍、滝凍) . In fact, even the moon begins to freeze (月凍)!
In Tochigi, by now tomatoes, peaches and plums would be no longer delicious, even if you could find them. But autumn is my favorite season for eating, so we would pull out the nabe for hotpot and all the winter foods would be discussed and plans made for eating. Gingko nuts, oysters, mushrooms, persimmons...
Today I discovered that even in California, the market reflected the approaching winter. There was not a peach or plum in sight. Instead, it was persimmons and apples. And some strawberries. Pomegranates aplenty.
We don't eat enough fish anymore for me to notice the season.
The only time we buy it is at the farmer's market, where sustainable comes at a price ($67 for a pound of swordfish and a pound of salmon). There were small heirloom tomatoes though.... but mainly it was lettuce, potatoes, root veggies and radishes everywhere.
And no more dahlias. The tequila guy had heaps of chrysanthemums!
And, for the first time ever, safflowers! (They have stalks like bok choy).
I loved reading about how she longed for Japan--and even felt homesick for this place--to which she had never been. But looking at her arrangements, they were such perfect expressions of Japanese tea flowers (茶花 chabana). My tea teacher was much more well known as an ikebana teacher and she specialized in chabana. I loved her arrangements every week adorning the tokonoma in the tea room.... always dewy and arranged so naturally to appear just as they would in a meadow--out in nature. Like me, she is also drawn to English gardens-- Sissinghurst, which is my favorite garden in the world.
One more thing that is wonderful about her book, she encourages us to "forage."
In japan, we always did that! Like "maple leaf hunting" (紅葉狩り）.. in Japan, there are things you are meant to appreciate from a distance and there are other things which you need to gather and bring home... I purchased a tiny pair of Japanese scissors to keep in my walking bag for foraging (My neighbors should love that!) Really, in LA, everything now is private property... it is so sad. I press flowers regularly and always have fresh flowers at home.. but I think it is time really to learn how to garden.
(Today is the first day of winter 立冬 according to the ancient calendar, when The First Camellia Blossoms)
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