While on my way to Grass Lake early yesterday morning, I came across this Cedar Waxwing lying in the middle of the road.  The back of the bird was a bit smashed up, but I keep plastic baggies and a box of latex gloves in my vehicle for such occasions (nestled beside the jar of Vaseline I use as a sealant for my car’s leaky gas cap — I forsee a rather awkward conversation if the authorities ever find the need to pull me over and search my trunk).  I’ve never held a waxwing before, and I don’t think I’ve ever realized just how tiny they are.  It’s always tough to gauge the size of a bird through the bins, and I routinely overestimate them.  I still recall the shock of scoping a Least Sandpiper foraging next to a Song Sparrow while out birding several years ago, and realizing that the sparrow was bigger!

As I pulled into the next sideroad to turn my vehicle around and retrieve the waxwing, I happened to drive up next to another fallen bird.  A juvenile American Robin this time, still sporting the yellow flanges of a recent fledgling on either side of his bill.  It’s not often that I get a close-up look at a fledged robin, as they are generally shyer than the adults, acting in accordance with their thrush nature.  They even wear the dappled spots of other closely related thrushes, although these are lost when they moult into their adult plumage.