Spurred on by the overnight rain and the persistent drizzle this morning, I headed off to check the grounds of Government House. As I walked along the sodden streets, thoughts of sparkling neotropical migrants dripping from the trees whirled through my over-active mind.
Well, as it happens the only things dripping from the trees, were actual drips. Even the resident birds were keeping their heads down and only the robins and a lone Bewick's wren were even bothering to sing.
After a lot of pishing and creeping around in the waterlogged shrubbery, I eventually came across a bushtit flock which had attracted a Wilson's warbler. Encouraged, I plodded on until I caught the shadowy rear end of something flitting away from me beneath a bush. I got down low and tried my patented warbler-scaring pishing and squeeking. Again, it flitted, and vanished. This went on for a few minutes and eventually I got a look at it as it sat for what seemed like a nano-second before silently slipping off into the understory once more. Good enough, though. It was a cracking male MacGillivray's warbler. Common enough, but a personal favourite. I emerged soggier, but significantly happer.
The juvenile Cooper's hawk was, meanwhile, sat above me throughout my endeavours.
The remainder of my visit was unremarkable. On my way out an adult Cooper's hawk came by, landing in a bare tree close to me. I could see that it was banded on the right leg, but with just binocs the number was indecipherable.