Settling in, focusing on a chickadee on a nearby branch, Canon Rebel in hand, getting ready to fire off a few shots when I noticed through the viewfinder a red flash move into the background.
"My God. Could it be?" A purple finch, Carpodacus purpureus, well more raspberry than true purple, but definitely not the cherry red of a house finch and there are no streaks on its flanks. No boorishness. No attitude.
The purple finch population has declined in recent decades, displaced by the later day usurpers, imported house finches, insolent really, that were brought to the eastern U.S. from the western U.S. and sold as caged birds, that is up until the time it was made illegal in the 1940s.
I haven't seen a purple finch in awhile and never, no never, have I seen one with my camera poised and ready to go. If only it will hold still long enough.
Oh, yes, yes, show us that raspberry rump, that pink blush draped over your shoulders. Yes. Beautiful.
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2 comments:
What luck! Such lovely birds. I usually see them in the canopy doing dignified things like eating tulip seeds rather than raiding a feeder.
You can spend an hour trying to convince yourself a house finch is really a purple, but when you see a purple finch, you don't think for a second it might be a house.
Yes. Exactly.
House finch after house finch after house finch.
As it was happening, I knew it was my lucky day. I actually took the photos through a window at Ijams and because of the glass, I had to turn the auto focus off and do it the old-fashioned way, manually, with a narrow depth of field.
Of course, the little bugger was having a hard time holding still, it kept hopping from branch to branch.
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