Eastern phoebe calls Texas its winter home
The Greek goddess Phoebe is associated with the moon — which explains why a bird called eastern phoebe showed up in my yard after October’s full moon.
OK, the moon had nothing to do with the phoebe coming to my yard, unless the bright light of the autumn night helped it navigate. It probably arrived from northeastern breeding grounds.
Eastern phoebes become relatively common during winter along Texas coastal regions, all the way to the Rio Grande Valley.
They’re also common winter residents in the Hill Country. But wait — I can go to the Hill Country almost any time of the year to see the handsomely petite birds because they reside there. And migrating phoebes set up winter quarters among the verdant hills where resident birds live. To complicate matters, resident Hill Country birds begin breeding in February, even though nonbreeding winter visitors remain through March and April, maybe later. That means our friends on a ranch near Fredericksburg can’t always tell whether or not a
phoebe present in April is a resident bird or one finishing up its winter sojourn. Lucky for them, a resident phoebe nests in their barn.
But if the eastern phoebe in my yard is still hanging out in April, it will surely be a winter resident that will ultimately head back to northeastern breeding grounds.
The bird has a similar profile to an eastern bluebird, which is what I thought it was at first glance. But the bird gave away its identity when it quickly pumped its tail straight down and slowly wagged it up in characteristic
phoebe fashion.
After sunlight seeped through the morning cloud cover, I could see the phoebe’s lackluster plumage, with a chocolate-brown head, tail and
wings offset by an olive-brown back and a mostly white underside. Beady black eyes watched for flying insects as the bird snapped its head from side to side.
It’s one of many types of flycatchers that make aerial sorties to assail flying insects in midair and return to their perch. The bird certainly has an unending winter supply of aerial insects in Houston neighborhoods.
But why is the phoebe named for the Greek goddess of the moon?
Perhaps it’s because the bird’s song sounds like “fee-bee .” Or maybe the person who named it woke up on a morning after a full moon and saw a phoebe in a tree.
Gary Clark is the author of “Book of Texas Birds,” with photography by Kathy Adams Clark (Texas A&M University Press). Texasbirder@comcast.net