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Unidentified Flying Dinosaur: Maryland Duo

You lot are genius – I’m getting some lovely UFDs. Some are more unidentified than others. Take this gorgeous girl from Rwahrens – even those of us who haven’t got a clue about birds know roughly what she is. But like he said when he sent her, how often do you see them sitting still?

UFD I. Rockville, MD, Aug 2009. “Probably deciding which flower to target next…” Image courtesy Rwahrens.

Dunno if you can figure out her species with her back turned, but it’s worth a try. Isn’t that a fantastic shot? I love it.

This one’s adorable, too:

UFD II. Rockville MD, April, 2007. “He/she was nesting in a ceramic nest hanging from our magnolia at the time.” Image courtesy Rwahrens.

Lovely. Thank you, Rwahrens!

I’ve got a few more reader submissions waiting, but I could always use more. Even if it’s a mostly Identified Flying Dinosaur, if you’ve got a shot you want to share, send it on. And, of course, send us the ones you can’t identify for the life of you. Put “UFD” in the subject line, and send them on to dhunterauthor at yahoo dot com. I can’t wait to see what we get next!

Comments

  1. rq says

    First one is a hummingbird – from the back, it’s a bit difficult to tell, but I would bet it’s a Ruby-throated hummingbird, female (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruby-throated_Hummingbird).
    The second one is a chickadee (or ‘tit’ to others of the English-speaking world), of the black-capped variety (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black-capped_chickadee). The most common bird around the birdfeeder in midwinter (where I come from, anyway). Loud, too, and lively, two things appreciated in the middle of a quiet, snowy winter, when everything else is dead or asleep.

  2. Trebuchet says

    Great pics! All of these UFD’s have inspired me to finally get out the bird feeders, even though I’ll have to stow them every night because of the accursed raccoons. I’m also going to have to get out the good camera! Digital zoom just isn’t cutting it.

    Sorry pulling your leg with the “geo-puzzle” (by e-mail) by the way. We’ve got a ton of actual rocks collected years ago by my wife and her dad, I’ll have to find some interesting ones for you.

  3. grignon says

    The black caps are fearless as well. Every year, when we went into my mom’s woods to chop her christmas tree, the “dicka-dee-dee-dee”
    chorus was raucous. They would fly down by the stump as we chopped, looking for a winter insect treat. My brother would pour a little seed into his hand and stand very still with his arm outstretched. They’d perch on his thumb and eat from his hand.

  4. says

    Thanks!

    The little hummingbirds are fascinating, they buzz around our two feeders, and are getting to where they aren’t bothered by our presence. My dog, a little Aussie, loves to sit and watch them feed. He will chase other birds away, as if he is protecting their food!

  5. Crudely Wrott says

    Ahh, me little chickadee.

    There is something ephemeral yet confident in their small voices. Especially on a cloudy, cold and still winter day when the air is a fog of ice crystals. The calls of these tiny survivors always seem to come from far away, like the warmth of summers remembered. As if they sang from great distances even if just a few yards behind your shoulder.

    Ma used to make up suet cakes for us to hang on the forsythias and lilacs that looked so poor and bare that time of year. The chickadees that came to feed reminded us that even in the dark hold of winter there was life stirring and hungry, hanging on the promise of spring. To our delight, spring always came. We loved them so.

    dee, dee, deeeeee.