Many years ago, as a young stripling, I was on a Sierra Club hike when an older gentleman told me he figured I’d probably become a birder. Now, I’ve always had a fascination with and affinity for some kinds of birds — ravens and crows, hawks and owls — but never thought of myself as particularly interested in birds. So I’d expressed doubt to the gentleman, who explained to me that “all the better people who have an interest in nature become birders eventually, if they live long enough.” While flattered to be considered “better people,” I was still skeptical.

Well, I’m a lot older now than I was. Several college friends have extensive camera rigs for birding and take astonishing pictures, and I find that I too am interested in bird photography. On the Fediverse, I follow many avid birders, and I am catching the contagious enthusiasm of seeing a new species or the first view of the year of a migrating species. I still don’t consider myself a birder, but after watching this video with Christian Cooper, I may reconsider.

I’ve shared hummingbird pictures here before. They’re fascinating and colorful and have a lot of character. But one thing I’ve “discovered” of late is just how interesting the typical boring garden-variety “little brown birds” can be! We have a bird feeder, and will sometimes toss little bits of peanut to a song sparrow while sitting out on the front porch. We dubbed the swallow “Squeaker,” and it’s a comical little bird, who will beg and scold us when we go out front.

Then, to our surprise, one day we realized that Squeaker was not a single bird, but at least a pair, and possibly their kid too. It was just that before the realization, we’d only seen one of them visit at a time. The begging and scolding behavior seems to run in the family. We’ve seen one of them gather up bits of peanut to feed to another — whether it’s their mate, friend, or offspring, we don’t know.

Song-sparrows are super common in Los Angeles. They’re everywhere. But take a look at them! Look at those feather patterns, and the little eyelash feathers. They are amazing critters.

These little loud birds have a lot of personality, but they’re not the only ones. Up at my mom’s house, there’s a dark-eyed junko that’s nesting in one the flower pots. If Squeaker et al are comical in their demanding behavior, these junkos are hilarious little hoppers that bounce their way around the patio like little cartoon characters.

This year, I’ve really started noticing the warblers. We’ve had a family of orange-crowned warblers hanging out in the garden. They’re voracious hunters, and I can often hear their trill as they pop around in the bushes hunting caterpillars and spiders.

Check out that intense look. If I were smaller, I certainly wouldn’t want to have that look directed at me.

Over in the nasturtiums, there was a looper. I didn’t see it, but this little warbler sure did.

In this last shot, I saw the younger bird sitting fairly still and trilling, mostly hidden by branches. It was largely ignoring me. The branches blocked me getting a good photo, but then suddenly it turned around and came out into the open. I started snapping away, and missed the focus by a bit, but did manage to get a view of the parent coming with a big beak-full of crunchy insects.

There’s a lot of drama in the garden. And it turns out even “boring” little brown birds have a lot more going on than I thought — all I had to do was take a look.