I tend to spend my mornings watching the dinosaurs do their thing. Whether it’s the aggressive chirping of Passer or the melodic trills of Haemorhous, it makes for a nice calm way to start the day.

There are seven genera of dinosaur that tend to frequent my neighborhood, which feels like a good number given the landscape of stucco and concrete. Passer is the most common, if I do not see at least one of these individuals, I find myself a bit unnerved. Haemorhous and Zenaida are the next common, though they are not as frequent or as numerous as Passer. There are two species of Corvus that come by. Flocks of C. brachyrhynchos can be observed on an evening basis, while C. corax is a bit less common. Still, if I’m able to watch near midday, I typically can spot a pair soaring on thermals.

Then there are the insectivorous Setophaga coronata and Sayornis nigricans, the latter of which is a favorite of mine. Its high pitched calls are oddly soothing and the simple, yet striking plumage is pleasing to the eye. When watching, I try not to reflect too hard on whether or not their increasingly infrequent appearances are due to declining insect populations. An important matter, but not particularly conducive to avoiding melancholy.

The seventh genera is the rarely seen, but frequently heard Mimus polyglottos. Loud and seemingly incapable of tiring, the males in the neighborhood have a penchant for imitating car alarms. I have played Marvin Gaye quite loudly in the hopes that they adopt a more pleasant song, but unfortunately they seem to prefer obnoxious beeping at 3am.