10 April 2015. Burlington ON. Thunderstorms had been with us most of yesterday and by nightfall the weather radar showed another slab of heavy weather coming our way. As we turned in, wind-driven rain fell in torrents battering our windows. Today at breakfast, there was a note on our local birding list-serve saying that around two in the morning, under a clear sky ,(really?) the night was alive with the calls of migrating sparrows. So while I slept, thankful for my warm and dry indoors, millions of birds were on the move out there, making their ways northward, some coming our way, others leaving us and following the retreating snows.
With a not very encouraging weather forecast I decided to walk around one of our census routes this morning. The moment I set foot on the trails I could hear that overnight had indeed been busy; the sky must have been full of American Tree Sparrows and Dark-eyed Juncos all rushing back to their nesting grounds in the far north. They were scattered all over the woodland floor at daybreak,singing and chipping to each other and madly refuelling; perhaps they’ll push on tonight. I could hear a few White-throated Sparrows, even a White-crowned Sparrow and an Eastern Towhee. It must have been quite a night.
My day’s census turned up forty-two species. It was a result of that large overnight flight of returning birds and the crazy skies that seemed to be the product of chaotic weather. Strong winds still threw things around, there were several mystery birds that dived or fell out of sight before I could figure them out. A low flying Rough-legged Hawk baffled me for a few moments, and thirty wind-tossed Tree Swallows together with two Barn Swallows blew up and down the valley.
Out of a tumultuous sky came rain and birds. I watched some Dark-eyed Juncos and American Tree Sparrows bathing in a small puddle. They were quite charming to watch but I don’t think aesthetics had anything to do with it. Where had they been, and what had they been doing that necessitated a thoroughly soaking bath?
I saw or heard many first-of-the year birds including: White-crowned Sparrow, Eastern Towhee, Eastern Phoebe, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker and Belted Kingfisher. A few Golden Crowned Kinglets flitted frustratingly quickly through tangles of vines and a House Wren had me baffled for quite a while as it picked and probed at the water’s edge of a marsh. I was pleased to see and hear two Belted Kingfishers, they’ll probably stay around here until October. Oh, and this smart little Hooded Merganser was quite breathtaking; if you had to invent a cartoon duck would you ever come up with this? 
Bird of the Day was a surprising Winter Wren. There were many birds that gave me a little fizz of excitement or made me smile, but the Winter Wren made me say Wow! (quietly to myself.) As is usually the case, I heard it before I saw it; in fact I thought it was more distant than it turned out to be. It was exploring the dark innards of a gaping rotten log; exactly the sort of place to expect them. Winter Wrens are a two-part delight: first, a tiny song, a thin, tight-knit tumble of high notes. Two or three Julys ago I managed to capture a short movie of a singing Winter Wren and inasmuch as a picture is worth a thousand words, you’ll be further off if you follow this link and see for yourself. The second Winter Wren delight is the tiny mite of a bird itself, it’s the size of a golf ball, just as easy to lose in the undergrowth but far more fascinating.
Wow! Bird-extravaganza!