Friendly phoebe

Some "journeys of discovery," as I've often called my daily excursions on foot, require going the distance, or, at least, going pretty far. But this one required little more than sticking my head out the kitchen door and noticing, on a wooden bench I put together in the summer, a small dark bird flitting around from post to railing to seat and back to the post again. I figured it would move as soon as I went back inside to get my camera, but when I returned to my kitchen porch observation post, my avian visitor was still making the bench rounds. I snapped off a few quick "just in case" pictures, then began to quietly edge my way closer and closer. Still, it made no effort to flee, and I knew I wasn't being so quiet that it didn't know I was there. The young bird was watching me all the way, but inexplicably stood its ground, bobbing its tail all the while. That behavior, as well as the coloration, the lack of a well-defined wing bar, and the yellowish wash of the breast feathers gave me a likely identity—a young Phoebe. Soon enough, the Phoebe will decide that it's time to head south, but for now, it's content to hang out on my bench, enjoy the sunshine, and pose for pictures.