I didn't see the Pine Grosbeaks, and judging from the long birder faces I encountered, neither did anyone else. I did see a lot of American Robins, a few Pacific Wrens, a foraging flock of Golden-crowned Kinglets, and a smattering of Black-capped Chickadees.
And then at the end, as I was heading back to the car, I heard the "Scritchy scritchy scritchy" song of an Anna's Hummingbird. There he was, perched high on a twig, the way they are wont to do. So I took his picture. I kept hoping for the grand head-on magenta flare, but that was not to be.
And then he flew high in the sky and dove at me, twice. Pink! Pink! (That's what it sounds like.)
That's a lot of effort for a tiny bird in cold weather. Their tininess is matched only by their feistiness.