A Tidbit on Pipits

I am watching pipits as they sip from the exposed terminal end of a thin black plastic tube carrying water along an irrigation network serving the plants of a backyard desert landscape. Never having seen a pipit prior to visiting Tucson, I find them reminiscent of the robin, a bird plentiful back home in the Midwest. The pipits, however, have light bluish grey feathers on their back; their beak is inky black, not yellow like the robin’s. They bend for a sip with these narrow, black, pointy beaks. They right themselves and look my way, not afraid to show their throaty neck, streaked with white and grey. They bend and sip, look up, and check their surroundings. Bend and sip, bend and sip, drip by drip. Like the robin, their breast is a buff orange. Though they walk like robins, I suspect the slightly smaller pipits would win a footrace.

When flushed, they scamper away on slender back-bent legs, quick dark foot by quick dark foot, head down, like a pitcher tipped for pouring. They stop to right themselves, and look around, a reassessment. The field guide describes the pipit as “drab,” but I demur. The orange buff of its breast pleasantly contrasts with the blue-gray color of its back. Their eyebrows are noticeably white. As for their call, I cannot say. For so long as I’ve been watching them, they’ve said not a word, neither in their favor nor against.

*click here to view photos of pipits & learn about them

Illustration by Emily Choi