a word, eyes wide, she held up a
digital camera to show me what
was on the
LCD screen.
I took the camera, squinted
at the screen, and for a moment
I was completely disoriented.
I recognized
the bird in the
picture, but it
was nothing I
expected. “What?
Where?” I sput-
tered. “This is
a white-winged
crossbill! Where
did you take this
“Mom took
it,” said Delaney.
“It was at our bird
feeder!”
Then Tiffanie
described what
had happened.
Delaney had
gone to look out
the window at
the feeders that
afternoon, as she
did many times
each day, and this
time she had seen
something different. “Mom! What
“I’ll come look in a minute,
Honey.”
“Mom! Come here now! Please!
What is this bird?!”
So Tiffanie had run in to look,
and mother and daughter had stared
at a bird they had never seen before.
Out came the field guides, and
within minutes they had a name for
their mystery visitor: white-winged
crossbill. But they could also see
from the range map that this bird
wasn’t ordinarily expected in this
region of Ohio.
Where the
cone crop is rich,
they might
settle in for a few
months, building
nests and raising
young at
practically any
time of year.
When the cone
crop runs out,
the flocks will
move on.
