ARLINGTON, TEXAS — It was a little chilly this morning, but male Great-tailed Grackles sat in pairs on powerlines, heads tossed way back and powerful bills straining toward the sky. Do they threaten each other all year round? Or are they beginning to think about families?

Now, the sun is warm, and the yellow-rumps are gadding about the slumbering limbs.

ARLINGTON, TEXAS — I returned to the pond by the Ballpark this evening, this time with binoculars. Several nutrias joined Gadwall, Lesser Scaup, Pied-billed Grebes and Mallards all across the pond, and the park ducks kept to themselves beside a tiny island. I kept scanning, despite failing light and a cold wind, telling myself that there might very well be a scoter among all those scaup.

Then I found the odd bird out: a smart male pintail, who lifted his pointy retrices high when he tipped forward to dabble.

It must have been in the 50s, but the wind was too cold for my thin, short-sleeved shirt. I hurried back to the car for a good shiver.

ARLINGTON, TEXAS — Pondwater shimmered with the sky’s gentle pinks and blues. Great-tailed Grackles fluttered high overhead, calling softly, but I was sure their voices would not remain so soothing once they reached their roost. Mourning Doves flew the opposite direction, less numerous, and closer to the earth.

The imposing Ballpark sat just across the pond, and the garish orange and turquoise Titan lurked not far away. Huge jets from one of the world’s largest airports soared far above the grackle tribes. How wonderful, I thought, that I can find birds even here.

Tiny grebes gathered, leaving the ducks to themselves, until there were sixteen. They assembled at the far end of the pond, the end where I sat, as darkness increased. Some disappeared below the surface; others started to swim away. Sixteen grebes.

The wind wasn’t unpleasant, but tiny muscles raised the hair on my arms. I’d been inside all day, working from home with a cold. But my spirit was slowly being restored.

ARLINGTON, TEXAS — It didn’t mind me, that Eurasian Collared-Dove wandering in an empty intersection.

ARLINGTON, TEXAS — As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve been relatively certain that there are White-winged Doves on Arkansas Lane. It’s not that they’re hard to ID, of course, but I’m always driving, and the only doves I can seem to get good looks at are Mourning Doves and Rock Pigeons.

But today, I saw a bird in flight, and this time it was clear as day. I hadn’t been imagining things all this time.

I haven’t seen white-wings anywhere else around — my apartment, other streets, farther east — and I thought surely this must be pushing the northern edge of their range.

So I cracked open Sibley once I got home, and sure enough, they aren’t “supposed” to be here, especially in winter. I know that they are expanding their range and that range maps are to be taken with a grain of salt — sometimes. But still, I was curious.

A quick search on Texbirds confirmed that white-wings spread to the Metroplex several years ago and that they are now seen in Arlington, even in January.

Not that the winter is hard on them, mind you. Today had the warm, damp feel of spring, and I left my window open far into the evening, until the seductive breeze had gotten colder and the sickening stench of a cigarette wafted up from somewhere below.