Many songbirds eat arthropods. Only a few of these are named for their eating habits, but the tyrant flycatchers are. Members of this family often hunt from a perch, fly out and capture an insect in the air and then return to the perch. However, they also glean insects and spiders from the trees.
The first picture is of the title’s and. Although not in the flycatcher family, this Grey Catbird was hunting for insects alongside flycatchers. Its strange cat-like mewing (from which it gets its name) alerted me. The bird’s preference for skulking through thick brush meant that it took me some time to obtain a clear view of it calling.
Not all family members have flycatcher in their names, but this one, the Pacific-slope Flycatcher, does. This bird was near its nest in a carport. Field guides tell you that it is a cavity nester, but around here, many prefer human structures to provide a covering for the nest.
I am fascinated by the number birds that are partial to building nests on human structures, but then complain vociferously about the inevitable presence of those humans. While I try to avoid their nests, it is chastening to be vilified by a robin for using one’s own doorway. The Pacific-slope Flycatcher, below, became stroppy when a human dared to use the carport it had appropriated.
Another case of an and. A Tree Swallow also catches insects in the air.
Although a member of the family, the Eastern Kingbird does not have flycatcher in its name. This one is an adult: note the white-tipped tail. 
This kingbird is about to fly off, presumably to catch an insect.
Wesakachak
I encountered the Whisky Jack fifty years ago when camping in the high country. At the time, I had no idea what this jaunty bird had to do with whisky (or whiskey, as Americans style their beverage). Nothing, as it turns out. Whisky Jack is just a transliteration from Wesakachak, the name in Cree (and related languages), where the bird seems to have been named after an amiable trickster hero (or possibly, it was the other way around).
So Wesakachak was the bird’s name in Canada for centuries. Along the way it gained the more formal name of Canada Jay, which does make geographic sense as the bird’s range lies primarily in this country. But, then the American Ornithologists’ Union decided it should be called Gray Jay (which really should be spelled Grey Jay in Canada) and we went along with it. If you want to find it in a guidebook, look under Gray Jay, but I think I will stick with Wesakachak.
Any way you spell it, one of the delights of the sub-alpine forest is an encounter with this amiable trickster. If it happens, it is probably not because you sought the bird; rather, it is because the bird sought you.
This is one of a number of Wesakachaks that came to investigate visitors to its realm.
“Why are you here? More to the point, did you bring food?”
The bird is soon off, but only on a short flight to a nearby perch.
Here is the issue: If you brought food you are interesting; if not, well….
