Foreword

The house in which this book was written barely survived the disastrous Coyote Fire of 1964 described in the final chapters of this book. But in 1977 it was completely destroyed in the Sycamore Fire and all that remains of it is this book.

Bird population’s change and so do bird watcher populations. The dramatic increase in the latter accounts for the increase, or apparent increase, in the number of bird species observed since the beginning of my bird journal.

As this foreword is being written, October 1990, our city is in its fourth year of severe drought and wildfires. The mobility of birds helps them survive such disasters. In the nineties our canyons will still echo with the shrill calls of the red-shouldered hawk, “Here, here, come here!,” the beguiling invitation of the quail to “Sit right down, sit right down,” and on hot dry dusty days the very sensible request of the olive-sided flycatcher, “Quick, three beers! Quick, three beers!”

Who says birds have no brains?

 

—M. M.