3 April 2013. Ruthven Park, Cayuga, ON. Spring banding and observations restarted 2 days ago at the bird observatory, and today was my first day back there. We’re at the observatory four months of the year, April, May, September and October. The overall pattern is the same, spring birding activities start against a backdrop of bare trees and cold snaps, and ends in mosquitoey T-shirt weather; September and October is the reverse. This early April may be remembered for its snow squalls and a cutting north wind but despite that a good influx of birds.
There’s more about the bird observatory on a separate page, click here for more.
My Bird of the Day was almost my first bird of the day, a Golden Crowned Kinglet found lying quietly in one of the mist nets. I quickly removed it and was astonished by the vivid splash of scarlet and gold that runs lengthwise along its crown. It’s a wee mite of a bird that manages to survive our northern winters quite handily feeding on insect eggs and larvae found in the corners and crevices of trees, mostly conifers. When temperatures spiral far below freezing Golden Crowned Kinglets huddle together and take it in their stride. Under a kinglet’s external plumage are layers of insulating down feathers which enable its fast-metabolizing system to maintain a viable core temperature and to come out the other side of the winter intact. That’s not to say there aren’t losses, something like 80% of young birds fail to survive their first year; consider that a kinglet pair will raise 4 or 5 young every year for perhaps 3 breeding years, that’s 12 – 15 babes just to replace themselves and maintain a stable population.
As is almost customary, I completed the daily census, an hour or two walk around a prescribed route recording all birds seen or heard. There were clumps of ice still lining the riverbank, the ground was crunchy and icy-crisp and a lazy wind (one too tired to go around, it prefers to cut straight through) brought tears to my eyes and nose. Regardless of the weather I enjoy the census as an opportunity to stretch my legs and to see what’s out there, there’s a bit of an internal challenge too, to see just how many species I can find. In mid-late May, fifty or even sixty species is achievable; at the end of October, twenty is a good number.
Today it was a surprisingly good (to me) twenty-nine, including some friends I’ve missed these past months: a sole Eastern Phoebe staying close to the river where there was some hope of insects to eat, a trio of Eastern Bluebirds, two obviously courting and one who was using the bare branches of a tree to watch for food in the grass below, and several Brown-headed Cowbirds. On the river were all three species of Merganser: Hooded, Red-breasted and Common, five Wood Ducks, a handful of Mallards, three Great Blue Herons and a bottomless supply of Canada Geese.
The churring call of Red-bellied Woodpeckers was a welcome sound, and another sound that was new to me, was the buzzy electric trills of Common Redpolls, an irregular winter visitor that has appeared in large numbers this past winter and has yet to decide it’s time to head back north. We banded several and they really are a pretty little bird; like most finches.
Many of today’s birds: Northern Cardinal, Eastern Tufted Titmouse, Blue Jay, Brown Creeper and Turkey Vulture would hardly rate a mention at other times. But they all have their charm and when they mark the end of winter so much the better.