Author: Peter T

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.

31 March 2013.  Drumbo ON. and Hamilton ON.   I started the day with a teenager-delivery-run, taking our Chilean exchange student to visit a New Zealander friend who is staying some 90 Km. from here.  The friend lives on a quiet country road in the heart of Canada’s best dairy farm country, indeed her hosts operate a large and rolling farm where the cows are milked by North America’s first robotic milking system. (Really!  As you read this chances are that one of their cows is stepping forward to be milked by a machine; and there’s not a person within a hundred yards!) Having spent some time working on a diary farm I can imagine some of the advantages, I never could find a lot of bucolic calm (or charm) squashed between the flanks of cud-chewing, half-ton manure makers.

Farm country means wide-open spaces and long straight roads, so my expectation of interesting bird life wasn’t very high and in any case there was still plenty of snow around and I was supposed to be driving, not birding.  But I’m always looking and the drive produced some nice sightings: a fleeting Horned Lark, a male Northern Harrier plunging for prey unknown, hundreds of Tundra Swans gleening spilled corn from the fields surrounding a large ice-rimmed pond and a couple of Northern Pintails and some Mallards in that same pond.

Delivery complete, I hurried home in time to take a turn at the Bald Eagle watch. It was interesting enough on its own, but a pair of American Widgeon puddling around on some nearby mudflats were rather engaging and a constant stream of northbound migrant Turkey Vultures dotted the spring sky.  The parent eagles became quite agitated about an immature, perhaps a two-year-old, Bald Eagle that appeared high overhead. It turned into quite a mini-drama when the intruder hung around far too long and far too close, and after some deliberate circling and maneuvering, like dogs greeting each other uncertainly, it was driven off by one of the parent birds.

Many of today’s birds had me drawing breath sharply in appreciation, but Bird of the Day among this liberal sprinkling of happy sightings was an unexpected Cooper’s Hawk that came sailing through and soared in tight circles low overhead.  It was just nice of it to allow us the time to assess its size and profile, enough to separate it from its smaller lookalike the Sharp-shinned Hawk.

23 March 2013. Cootes Paradise Hamilton ON. We are excited around here.  We’ve had a pair of Bald Eagles hanging around and taking shots at breeding for several years but never successfully.  Last year it seemed they’d finally got on track but in the end it seems the eggs were infertile and nothing came of it.  This year despite a cold and miserable winter, we became aware in mid-late February that the female was on the nest and sitting tight, presumably incubating eggs.  Yesterday a little fuzzy head was seen reaching up to the attending adult and today after several of hours of patient watching we saw two little scrawny-necked heads.  Bald Eagles incubate eggs for at least 35 days so egg laying probably took place in early-mid February.  It will take 10 or more weeks before the young will leave the nest, so lots more drama and anticipation ahead.

I’d made a point of visiting the distant viewing spot to see the Bald Eagles so they were hardly a surprise.  But getting a glimpse of the eaglets was a treat and eclipsed all other sightings.  This photo, taken late last year, is of one of the resident pair, and now a proud parent.

20 March, 2013. Hendrie Valley RBG, Burlington ON. I’d really like to be able to draw birds in the field, I’d like to produce realistic sketches from live birds as they present themselves. It would make for such a cool and professional looking field notebook, just like in the introduction pages of some field guides. It’s a dream I fear, but it helps that I am already able to draw reasonably well, although almost everything I’ve drawn in my life so far was either obligingly stationary or posed. I’m embarking on a disciplined approach to learning; we’ll see.  If it goes well I’ll share it.

Today, in search of some obliging life models, I visited a boardwalk in a valley where people regularly come to feed the birds.  The birds are so conditioned to handouts that they approach closely, wait patiently, stay to eat and generally cooperate.  However, it was eye-wateringly cold and I was so taken by many of the birds that I took more photos than made sketches. Better days lie ahead.

Sightings in scribbled notes alongside the sketches, include those classic family entertainment birds: Blue Jays, Northern Cardinals, and Black-capped Chickadees; no wonder this place is so popular. There was a pair of Trumpeter Swans, many Mallards, and Canada Geese in the ice-rimmed river. A couple of American Tree Sparrrows, a Red-bellied Woodpecker and several male Red-winged Blackbirds had also figured out the easy meal too and hung around.

As I left I noted a male Northern Harrier circling over the valley causing several Blue Jays and Canada Geese to raise alarm calls.  It passed directly overhead and quite low so I was able to clearly make out the overall blue-grey body and wings with ‘dipped in ink’ black tips.  Bird of the Day!

A few Northern Harriers stay around southern Ontario all winter, usually in places where they can hunt over large expanses of fallow or scrubland with a rodent population.  This site was not that sort of place and I suspect that today’s harrier was a spring migrant; coincidentally a nearby hawk migration station reported its first Northern Harrier of the year today. Maybe a coincidence.

 

March 18 2013.  Kilbride & Cootes Paradise, ON. With no intention of looking for birds I went in search of signs of spring, anything spring-like would do. My expectations were low because there’s still plenty of snow where I went and anything brave enough to be thinking of new season growth would likely be buried, but at least I’d get some exercise. The walk and scramble down into a wet valley was pleasant enough and I’ve written a bit about it on the Understory blog.

I paid scant attention to the few birds, a couple of calling Red-winged Blackbirds and a circling Red-tailed Hawk, until I heard the unmistakable hoarse chuckle of a Common Raven. Looking up I spotted it swooping low and disappearing into the tops of some nearby White Pines, Ravens usually seem to fly smoothly and swiftly as if aided by a tail wind. Well, it was an easy  Bird of the Day even though I wasn’t really paying attention.

Ravens have started to make something of a comeback to this part of southern Ontario, where once upon a time they were abundant but have been largely absent for the past century or so.  Over the last ten years there have been regular reports of ravens nesting around here, but never more than one or two sites so their advance is tenuous although probably gaining momentum.  Still, Common Raven is a notable bird.

Perhaps the final note this spring on migrant Tundra Swans. Last week after they left their Atlantic wintering grounds, thousands of them decided to stop over in our immediate area. It was a swan bonanza unlike any for many years.  Yesterday I heard reports of several hundred gathered on one of the wetlands bordering Lake Ontario and after my earlier Raven encounter went to admire them.  The weather has been threatening all day, and a winter storm was brewing, and when I arrived at the swan site there was a group of just 70 or 80 of them.  I wasn’t altogether surprised because on my way there I had seen several small groups of swans low overhead and heading northwest, I had my suspicions where they’d come from, but I wondered why they’d be leaving so soon, especially with this storm brewing.

From a cold and punishingly windy lookout above the remaining swans I could tell that they were restless, and as I watched, every now and then a small group of 6 to 10 swans would gather and lift off flying hard into strong east wind.  They made little headway but gained height quite rapidly and then, when perhaps two or three hundred feet up, they turned and headed north west, and away they went. Then I put it all together, or so I like to think, that it’s that strong east wind that will carry them on towards the next staging spot.  As for the approaching storm they’ll deal with it as it happens or maybe they’ll skirt around it.  I’m sure by mid afternoon they had all gone and their arrival somewhere a few hundred miles north and west of here will be another birder’s pleasure.