Fire and Earth

A post-prandial stroll anywhere in Tucson can be counted on for a flycatcher or two. This time of year, the commonest are also two of the prettiest, one a feathered ember, the other shaped of reddish clay.

Vermilion Flycatchers are common enough, but demanding in their habitat choices, stubbornly refusing to leave the cemeteries, irrigation ditches, and parks that provide them with water and a little shade. Several winter less than a quarter mile from our house on the grass-lined ponds of the golf course, but not once has one wandered up out of the wash to visit us. And we’ve been watching.

A little more understated, Say’s Phoebe has dropped by a time or two. Unlike Vermilion Flycatcher and the other phoebe species, Say’s doesn’t care one way or the other about water, and they are every bit as much at home out on the cotton flats of the Lower Santa Cruz as in city parks and parking lots, where they hover-hunt low over dusty fields and concrete. The past couple of weeks, the males have become quite vocal, singing a sweet little whistled song that is as gentle as their faces.