A Morning in the Cherry Blossoms —A variety of songbirds and woodpeckers

Spring has arrived in Portland, and my backyard fig tree has become a stage for some of the Pacific Northwest’s most beautiful small birds. A suet feeder in the garden has brought in an incredible variety of visitors.

These tiny acrobats are among the most challenging birds to photograph — constantly in motion, never still, flitting through branches in restless flocks. They rarely give you more than a fraction of a second before they’re gone. The female paused just long enough to reveal her incredible pale eyes — a striking contrast against her soft gray plumage that stops you in your tracks when the light catches them just right. Getting a sharp image of a Bushtit requires the same patience and timing as photographing a Ruby-Crowned Kinglet in flight.

Red-Breasted Nuthatch — This bold little bird worked the bark headfirst in classic nuthatch fashion, its rusty breast glowing warm against the fig tree’s silvery branches. The afternoon light painted every feather in perfect detail.

Lesser Goldfinch — A flash of olive and yellow among the new spring leaves. This underappreciated gem of the finch family is easily overlooked until the light hits and reveals just how vivid those colors truly are.

Ruby-Crowned Kinglet — The highlight of the session. I caught this tiny bird at the moment of takeoff — wings spread, body launched from the branch, frozen in that split second between perch and flight. One of the smallest birds in North America and one of the hardest to photograph in motion. The ruby crown was just barely visible — a secret these birds only reveal in fleeting moments.

All shots taken with natural light in my Portland backyard using a suet feeder to attract visitors. No calls, no playback, no setups — just patience, a long lens, and respect for the birds.

All shots taken with natural light in my Portland backyard. No bait, no calls, no setups — just patience, a long lens, and respect for the birds.

Downy Woodpecker — This handsome little woodpecker has discovered both the suet feeder and my cedar trim — and unfortunately can’t tell the difference. He’s been putting fresh holes in the house and using it as his personal alarm clock every morning, drumming away at sunrise. While I’d prefer he stick to the feeder and let me sleep in, there’s no denying the beauty of that crisp black and white plumage with the male’s tiny red cap. He’s earned his portrait in exchange for the renovation work and the wake-up calls..