Author: Peter T

9 July 2013. Cabot Head, ON. It’s not as though we really need a vacation but when we had the opportunity to be wardens of the facilities at the Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory we took it.  There’s no bird-banding going on at present, banding is a spring and fall activity, but the cottage building needs to be occupied and someone has to do it.

The setting is pretty, the rugged, broken limestone shore of Lake Huron on one side and expanses of forest backed by towering cliffs the other.  There’s a large, almost totally enclosed bay, the basin, just outside the door where an ancient shipwreck lies decaying, it’s home to a small colony of Barn Swallows and a Beaver has piled its lodge of White Birch branches and other debris against a large rent in the ship’s bow.

Lots of birds here.  Today I walked the easy trails and found many familiar species from my May days banding here: Magnolia Warbler, Nashville Warbler, Gray Catbird and a Merlin among many others, I’m sure we recognized each other.

Finding my way along the rocky beach I almost stepped on a Spotted Sandpiper sitting tight on a brood of four eggs.  She exploded from her nest, peeping wildly, then scampered away stumbling over the rounded rocks and pebbles in a distraction display feigning injury and helplessness.  It’s been a long time since I’ve witnessed this classic distraction display, it’s characteristic of several families of birds including ducks, pheasants and plovers.  The drama was enough to make the Spotted Sandpiper my Bird of the Day. I took a picture of the nest and eggs and tried to get one of the fleeing poor-pathetic-me mother, but she was moving too fast, much too fast for an injured bird, I had little success.

On an afternoon excursion we walked a trail out to a gushing waterfall, our route led us through a tranquil leaf-dappled forest where the only sounds other than our huffing, puffing and fly-swatting, were singing Red-eyed Vireos, Scarlet Tanagers, Ovenbirds and Wood Thrushes.  We fell asleep that night to the distant sounds of a Whip-poor-will and with fireflies flashing brightly just outside our bedroom window; it could be worse.

3 July 2013.  Not expecting too much of what you’d call spine tingling, given the slowing of avian activity these days, I went looking for the Acadian Flycatcher we’d found a couple of weeks ago.  It was a nice enough walk in the woods, I could hear Warbling and Red-eyed Vireos singing above me, a Yellow-billed Cuckoo called for a moment before flying swiftly away through the canopy layer and a Great-horned Owl, by just being there, greatly excited a female Scarlet Tanager, she hopping around calling ‘Chkk–burr’ repeatedly.

I managed to hear the Acadian Flycatcher in roughly the same place we’d found it last time.  I imagine if you were to visit areas where Acadian Flycatchers are abundant you might become quite deaf to its explosive call, which they say, is a loud, sharp  ‘Piz-ZA’, but as I listened to it I felt it had a slightly more liquid feel.  I wrote it down “Fleet-IT”, still loud and sharp like the squeaky screeches of a chipmunk.

On my way out I encountered a noisy Common Yellowthroat.  With a bit of urging it popped out to see me and I managed to get this shot just as it dropped out of sight again. (But to make life simpler,  I’ve added another of the same species to fill in the missing bits).  I’m sure they know exactly where I am even though to all intents and purposes, they’re invisible; they have a real talent for staying just out of sight even though clearly audible.

Despite a decent tally of 30 or so species seen or heard, including: Red-bellied Woodpecker, Indigo Bunting and Gray Catbird, my Bird of the Day was the Common Yellowthroat for tantalizing me with its brief appearance.

29 June 2013.  Flamborough ON.  Continuing my education in ferns, I stopped at a small watercourse that bisects a swampy woodland hoping I might catch sight of a few bird species that I felt sure would be around.  I could hear several odd chips, clucks and sighs coming from deep in the mosquitos’ realm. At this stage of spring-turned summer such bird sounds are mostly contact notes between parents and young, essential bits of communications with messages like: “I’m here and hungry.” “Food’s coming, stay there.” Or, “Danger. Don’t move.”

A sharp chip led my gaze to an anxious Northern Waterthrush hopping around just in front of me, another joined it, also chipping, and then another.  My presence was clearly unwelcome so I moved on. Northern Waterthrushes are recognized as a New World wood warbler although their brown and cream colours set them apart visually from many of the much more celebrated and sought after drama kings and queens.  Still I like this bird, I like its splattery, emphatic spring song, its propensity to check you out if you get too close and its bouncy tail-bobbing posture; it was my Bird of the Day for all of those endearing qualities.

I caught sight of a Common Yellowthroat retreating into a thicket of willow and heard a couple of far off Great Crested Flycatchers, a late singing Wood Thrush and a loud and confidently singing Carolina Wren.

There were Veerys too and I came across one that surprised me by its boldness; it was carrying food and perched conspicuously in the open and called repeatedly a bold “Few”.  After a while I reasoned that it was delivering food, perhaps to a nest rather than to a fledged youngster, and the loud calling was advance announcement of its arrival.  I’m not sure whether my presence prompted extra caution, I sensed not because a little later when I had moved well away, I again heard it announcing a food delivery.  They are usually rather shy, even reclusive, birds but this one most definitely was not.

26 June 2013. Morriston, ON.  The frantic dash and clamour of spring birding is fading and my attention now wanders.  Today I visited a bog not too far from here, looking for orchids.  I’m not much of a wildflower enthusiast, while I know many of the commoner ones reasonably well, I’ve gravitated towards ferns: more subtle and elegant.  Today I took a friend to see if we could find and photograph Showy Lady’s-slipper orchids. They bloom a little later than Yellow Lady’s-slippers and if it’s possible, they are just a touch more exquisite.  We found a few stands and enjoyed several mosquito-slapping minutes bending, crouching and stepping gingerly around soggy hummocks trying to frame just the right shot.

As we slogged and ducked through the dense tamaracks, alders and cedars there was bird song around us: White-throated Sparrows singing their “pure sweet Canada-Canada-Canada”, at least that’s how I read it, but my companion, a native of Wisconsin and until recently resident of New Jersey, believed them to be calling “old Sam Peabody-Peabody-Peabody”.  This was no place for national rivalries and we agreed to differ. A handful of Cedar Waxwings shared high-pitched whistles amongst themselves and then in the distance a Common Raven chuckled.  The Raven and White-throated Sparrow are both birds associated with points much further north and to have them nesting around here is suggestive of the bogs of northern Ontario; which brings me back to the orchids.

23 June 2013.  Norfolk Co. ON.  Today was my day to lead a naturalists’ club hike studying birds and ferns; the latter being a newish interest of mine.  There are about 75 species of fern in the province so I believe competency at identifying of 20-30 of the commoner ones is within reach.  However this morning’s guided walk started in the humid aftermath of a night of thunderstorms, the temperature was soaring by 8.00 a.m. and the mosquito population was up early in anticipation of a fruitful day.

As we waited for the rest of the group to arrive, I explored the forest growth along the roadside.  It was instantly rewarding, I could hear a Gray Catbird buried in the cedars, a not-far-away Veery, tree-top Red-Eyed Vireos and a busy-body Yellow Warbler, all singing lustily, apparently happy with a day that promised plenty of insect food for their young broods.  I thought I could hear a Black and White Warbler a little further away and went looking for it, it eventually showed itself quite openly and as if to join in the action, a male Magnolia Warbler popped out to take a look at me.  Now Magnolia Warblers are birds that we usually see on spring and fall migrations only, they’re a species that breeds much farther north, it was certainly unexpected at this time and place.  Perhaps it was a very late migrant (it happens) or a bird that had lost its compass and ended up in the wrong part of Ontario.  Either way it was Bird of the Day, not only for it’s unusualness, but also for it’s dramatic beauty.  Few birds match an adult male Magnolia Warbler for dramatic splendour and I’m including a photograph to prove that point.  I’ll add my apology for its blurriness, it’s not up to the standard I have set myself, my excuse is unfamiliarity with a new camera.

The day produced about 40 different species of birds including a surprising number of warblers; in addition to three already noted we found Ovenbird, Black-throated Green, Chestnut-sided, and Pine Warblers too.

And the ferns? Well they can be baffling but, as is often the case with the focused study of a new subject, the blurs are slowly giving way to distinctions, I can almost distinguish between young Cinnamon and Interrupted Ferns, and I know a Hay-scented Fern when I see it.  And if all of this sounds obscure and a touch so-what-ish, well that’s the way it goes studying ferns.