Side-Eyed Lizards, Singing Birds, and a Much-Needed Reset - May 7, 2026

After a long day of work, I could feel that familiar itch starting to rise in me.

The kind that says: Get outside.

The sun was calling, and honestly, I needed to answer.

So I grabbed Finn, packed up my camera, and headed out with my Aunt for a little evening adventure. Our first stop was a local park where a colourful bunting had recently been spotted. Naturally, I had visions of finding this rare little jewel sitting perfectly in the evening light, waiting patiently for me to arrive with my camera.

Did I find the bunting?

No. Absolutely not.

But that is wildlife photography for you. You go looking for one thing, and nature hands you something completely different.

And this time, what nature handed me was my very first Orange-rumped Warbler, which, for the record, I still think is a hilarious name because the flash of colour I noticed was bright yellow, not orange. Either way, this tiny little bird made my evening. Birds were not easy to spot in the trees, but they were definitely not hard to hear. The whole park felt alive with songs, calls, rustling wings, and little hidden movements just out of view.

A little later, I spotted a Downy Woodpecker clinging to a tree trunk above us. It paused between taps and seemed very interested in Finn below, watching this tiny backpack adventurer with great curiosity. Finn, of course, was completely unaware that he had become part of the evening’s wildlife observation. For a few moments, it felt like the bird was studying him as much as I was studying the bird, a perfect little reminder that in nature, we are often being watched right back.

Did You Know? Downy Woodpeckers in City Parks

Did you know Downy Woodpeckers are one of the smallest woodpeckers in North America, but they are surprisingly tough little city dwellers? They do well in urban parks, gardens, and treed neighbourhoods because they can find insects hiding in bark, branches, dead wood, and even plant stems. Their small size lets them explore places larger woodpeckers cannot reach, which makes city parks full of mature trees, shrubs, and natural debris perfect habitat for them.

Since the birds were making me work for every photo, I decided to do something I am learning to love more and more.

I looked down.

And there, at ground level, an entirely different world was waiting.

The camas flowers were blooming in soft purple-blue patches, and bumble bees were busy moving from flower to flower, completely absorbed in their work. There is something so peaceful about watching bees. They do not seem concerned with the chaos of the human world. They just do what they are here to do, one flower at a time.

Did You Know? Bumble Bees and Camas Flowers

Did you know bumble bees are important pollinators for camas flowers? As they move from bloom to bloom collecting nectar and pollen, they help camas plants reproduce and continue spreading through meadows, parks, and Garry oak ecosystems.

Camas flowers are especially meaningful on southern Vancouver Island because they are part of a very special native habitat and have long been an important plant for Indigenous peoples. So when you see a bumble bee tucked into a purple-blue camas flower, you are witnessing a tiny but powerful relationship — one that supports both wildlife and the beautiful spring landscapes around us.

A Great Blue Heron flew in and landed gracefully on one of the man-made floating islands, immediately disappearing partway behind the bushes. The first thing he did was take a big gulp of water, as if he had just arrived from a very important flight and needed a quick refreshment.

Then, right on cue, he lifted his head just in time for me to grab a snapshot, complete with the now-familiar wildlife side eye. Even hidden behind the branches, he still managed to look majestic and slightly suspicious of my camera.

Then came the rock lizards.

Oh my goodness, the rock lizards.

They were stretched out on warm stones, soaking up the evening sun like tiny little dragons. They were hard to spot at first, blending perfectly into the rocks and shadows, but once I saw one, I started seeing more. They were even harder to photograph because the second they noticed me, they were ready to launch themselves into hiding.

But somehow, I managed to capture several of them posing beautifully.

Well, “posing” may be generous.

They were mostly giving me the side eye with one foot already packed and ready to run.

Still, they were stunning. Their colours, their delicate markings, and the intricate patterns along their bodies were absolutely beautiful. I think small creatures like this are so easy to overlook, but when you really stop and study them, they are works of art.

Last but not least, the birds decided to give me a few more gifts before the evening ended.

I managed to capture a Marsh Wren tucked between the branches, a Spotted Towhee perched up high and singing into the sunlight, and one tiny hummingbird standing guard over his little domain like a feathered king.

Wren

Spotted Towhee

Hummingbird

It was one of those evenings where nothing went exactly as planned, and yet somehow, it gave me exactly what I needed.

What amazes me most is that I spent three hours birding after work without even realizing it.

Three hours.

After a full workday.

That feels almost impossible to me sometimes. When I am stressed, overwhelmed, and emotionally exhausted, there are days when all I want to do is crawl into bed and cry. Getting outside can feel like a mountain. Picking up the camera can feel like too much. Even chasing birds can feel hard when my mind is already full and tired.

But then I get out there.

And something shifts.

Time moves differently in nature. Three hours can pass, but it barely feels like I was out at all. My body is walking, my camera is clicking, Finn is enjoying his backpack adventure, and my mind finally gets a break from the chaos.

For those few hours, I am not trapped in the stress of the day.

I am watching bees on camas flowers. I am laughing with my Aunt about side-eyed lizards. I am listening for birds in the trees.

I am watching Finn have a fantastic walk, then curl up in his little cat bed in the car, snoozing while the world passes by outside the window.

I am noticing the city I have lived in my whole life and wondering: Have I really looked at it before?

That question stayed with me tonight.

We can live somewhere our entire lives and still miss so much. The tiny creatures on warm rocks. The hidden birds singing from deep inside the branches. The flowers blooming at our feet. The hummingbird watching over his territory. The bees doing their quiet work.

Nature has become one of the places where I can breathe again.

When I am out there, camera in hand, I slip into something close to meditation. I am focused, but not tense. Searching, but not forcing. Present, but not overwhelmed. The wild gives my mind somewhere softer to land.

And tonight, after a long day, that was exactly what I needed. I went looking for a colourful bunting. I did not find it.

Instead, I found a warbler, bees, flowers, lizards, wrens, towhees, hummingbirds, laughter, sunshine, and three hours of peace I didn’t even know I had stepped into.

Nature always seems to know what I need before I do.

Bonus Content: Meet Star, the Drive-Thru Hummingbird

On the way home, we stopped to grab a coffee, because apparently birding, lizards, bees, and three hours in nature still requires caffeine support.

And guess who was there?

A tiny female hummingbird.

Not just tiny. Micro tiny.

She was perched in her usual tree in the Starbucks drive-thru, watching over her little kingdom like she owned the place, which, honestly, she probably does. I have seen her there before, always in that particular tree, keeping a close eye on the comings and goings of humans, cars, coffee cups, and whatever else happens in her domain.

Then, in one quick flash, she lifted off and zipped over to another branch, landing like the tiniest queen in the world. She was so small it almost felt impossible that a creature that delicate could hold so much presence.

Naturally, we named her Star, after the Starbucks drive-thru where we found her.

Because sometimes the best wildlife sightings happen in the most unexpected places.

Even when you are just trying to get coffee.