By Gary Randall For The Mountain Times
This year’s spring has been beautiful here on the mountain. By early May, the Oso berry was blooming, and the vine maples had flowered and begun casting shade across the trail to the river. Trilliums popped on time, brightening the understory with their silky white flowers. That early trend has continued into June, giving us a string of gorgeous days — perfect for time on the trails or just relaxing on the porch, enjoying the yard and the birds that visit it.
Hazel, my red heeler, has been enjoying the nice days too. She’s back to patrolling the yard, ears twitching at every birdcall. Hazel loves birds. Her favorite program is Birder King on YouTube. She especially enjoys chasing them up into the trees for sport. I, on the other hand, am content to sit on the porch watching them — usually with camera in hand, fitted with my Tamron 150–600mm lens. That lens has become a regular companion during these springtime backyard bird photography sessions.
One of the unexpected joys this year has been spotting a red-breasted sapsucker and a pair of black-headed grosbeaks, in addition to the regulars that visit the yard — such as dark-eyed juncos, varied thrushes, downy woodpeckers, spotted towhees, chestnut-backed chickadees, and Steller’s jays. I’m not a birder by any official definition, but I can’t help but enjoy this relaxing pastime and get excited when I spot a new bird — especially if I manage a good photo.
And then there are the pileated woodpeckers. If you’ve never heard one, imagine a jungle bird echoing through the trees — their call sounds more like something out of a tropical jungle than a Mount Hood forest. I catch glimpses of them now and then, but they’re shy. A few years back, I coaxed one down with a birdbath during the dry months and managed a couple of quick photos before it flew off. No such luck yet this year, but I remain hopeful.
Our flickers have no such reservations. If you’ve ever been woken up at 5 a.m. by a woodpecker hammering your chimney cap, you probably know the culprit. Still, they’re beautiful birds, with warm, mottled tones and flashes of red and gold. Sometimes I grumble at their timing, but I never tire of seeing them up close.
Birds have a way of bringing stillness. Whether I’m trying to photograph them or just watching from the deck, I find my mind slowing down. That’s not always easy — like a lot of us, I tend to stay busy — but there’s something grounding about watching the light shift through the trees while waiting for a bird to land, adjusting the focus, and snapping the shot.
If you’re interested in bird photography but don’t have a huge lens, don’t worry. A typical zoom lens and a bit of patience will do just fine. I recommend using Aperture Priority mode and raising your ISO slightly to keep the shutter speed fast enough. Use single-point focus and try to lock onto the bird’s eye — as with people, that’s where the life of the image is. A good perch, soft light, and a clean background can turn a backyard photo into something frame-worthy.
In addition to spotting and photographing them, I enjoy identifying birds by their songs. I usually hear the song before I see the bird. I use an app on my phone that listens and tells me what species the song belongs to. It’s a fun way to learn — and sometimes the app picks up birds I didn’t even realize were nearby.
Even without the camera, there’s a lot to see and hear. I often think about how easy it is to overlook birds — they’re everywhere, and unless we stop and listen, they can blend into the background noise of life. Take some time this month to just sit outside. Bring a cup of coffee or a cold drink and simply be still. You might hear the fluting call of a thrush, the distant rhythm of a woodpecker, or the quiet flutter of a finch in flight.
There’s something special about getting to know the birds we share space with. It reconnects us to the land in a small but meaningful way. Up here on the mountain, we have the gift of quiet forests and a rich variety of birdlife just outside our doors. Let’s not take that for granted.