Author: Peter T

May 18 2012.  There’s a condition called Warbler Neck, it’s the lasting spinal discomfort that you get standing 60 feet below and straining to see a diminutive warbler picking its way through the upper reaches of a forest canopy.  It’s what we got looking a couple of Blackburnian Warblers today, we found them in the penthouse levels of an as yet un-leaved ash tree. Blackburnians rank among the best-dressed warbler, right up there with Magnolia Warblers, Canada Warblers and Cape May Warblers.  In another context you might call them a fop or a dandy with their flaming orange cravat.

The Blackburnian was among several great sightings on today’s census at the bird observatory.  We ended up with well over 50 species including migrants such as a Tennessee Warbler, a male and female Scarlet Tanager and Red–eyed Vireos.  Claiming territory were a Blue–winged Warbler, several House Wrens and Great Crested Flycatchers.  A pair of Hairy Woodpeckers chattered loudly in strong objection to our presence below their nest hole.  The female was carrying food for their young and got close to the nest entrance many times but could never quite allow herself to give away the secret location.

Along the river a pair of Canada Geese was shepherding 13 goslings and a small flock of Spotted Sandpipers flew by.  It was warm enough to put a dozen Turkey Vultures airborne rocking from side to side in their characteristic shallow V flight. A single immature Bald Eagle passed high overhead and a small team of Chimney Swifts flew tight circles around the property on fast sickle shaped wings.

May 16 2012.  I felt the turning point today, the turn when the fury of spring hands over to the warm deliberate days of summer; days that are for producing the next generation.

As I walked along a paved lakeshore path I heard Warbling Vireos staking their claim to the treetops with their ramble of flat toned notes that dwindle to an inconclusive end. An untidy “Ts wr-ilwr-lr-lwir-lee-le-lsit” is as close as I can get to it. I found the first Rugosa Rose flowers unfolding in the brushy tangles and Chimney Swifts twittering overhead as they flew fast wheeling acrobatics.

Later I watched Common Terns fishing at the canal and enjoyed studying how they differ from last week’s Forster’s Terns, the frosty upper wing tips of the Forster’s are perhaps the most obvious difference. Less obvious in flight is the Forster’s much longer tail and more orange bill. Then a Caspian Tern hovered overhead so I noted that apart from it being a relative giant, the Caspian has dark wingtips as if it’s wearing mittens.

I think it was the Chimney Swifts that caught my imagination more than the terns.  I like their absolute association with pure summer skies; how they wheel in high sweeping arcs, screaming and twittering.  They are a sound of lazy summer evenings.

May 14 2012.  The frenzy of May is at, or just past, its peak.  The hordes of birds are settling into their breeding territories, some returning to the precise spot where they nested last year, others staking out new suitable territory.  Many of the sensational birds we’ve been seeing of late still have a long way to go, they’re just passing through; but others are ready to get started on breeding.

After completing the daily census at the bird observatory, a rewarding but somewhat quieter day, I went looking for Upland Sandpipers and Bobolink.  I parked by a country graveyard along a rough dirt road and walked for a mile or so between large uncut fields of grass.  An intermittent hedge of hawthorn and wild plum flanked the road.   No Upland Sandpipers, but the fields were busy with dozens of male Bobolinks claiming their piece of turf, fluttering from spot to spot and calling liquidly as they flew: “ bu-alinka-linka-link-ink“.

Several landed on branches along the hedgerow and watched over their domain for a few moments before fluttering away.  Savannah Sparrows were playing the same game too, their call is less musical: “Tsit tsit tsit tsit seeeeee” but just as evocative of summer grasslands.  The Bobolink was my Bird of the Day for starting the next and quieter chapter in this birder’s year. Here they are, the birds of summer.

May 12 2012.  It would be hard to repeat the experience of a day like today.  It wasn’t just a day of good luck or happenstance; it was a planned birding blockbuster. I had the privilege of leading a team of five birders of mixed experience and capability on a Birdathon.  To list what we saw here would clog up the system, so I have created another blog page reporting on the day.  Suffice to say here that we saw and/or heard 141 different species.  That’s a lot.

Among an endless stream of birds, two perhaps three, species stick out.  The ‘maybe’ candidate was a Wilson’s Phalarope. In my years of birding I can only recall seeing two or three phalaropes, and not necessarily Wilson’s; I don’t remember.  Phalaropes, and there are three found in North America: Red, Red-necked and Wilson’s, are somewhere between a shorebird and a ballerina.  They are birds of wetlands, much like a Lesser Yellowlegs, but very dainty and capable of doing pirouettes for food.  We found one standing quietly as if waiting for the music to start, among some more elephantine shorebirds like Dunlins and Killdeers. I wished we could have been closer.

We made a stop in an area of extensive forest famous for great bird diversity, and on a walk among some towering pines, oaks and ashes we were stopped in our tracks by an anxious screeching from above.  We were intruding in the territory of a Northern Goshawk and he (presumably) was trying to decide whether or not to take a swipe at us. It flew from treetop to treetop all the while warning us off.  We left after getting a couple of photos and on our retreat heard Pine Warblers, Ovenbirds and Red–breasted Nuthatches.

As our day drew to a close we stood on the edge of a very large cattail marsh.  The light was fading and we were enjoying the clamour of evening birds: Least Bittern, Marsh Wrens and Swamp Sparrows. One of us wondered aloud whether we’d have a hope of seeing a Sandhill Crane; they breed in this area so it was not out of the question.  As we debated our chances we heard the faint bugling calls of a pair way off to our right.  We searched and quickly found them flying our way.  As we watched they grew closer and closer until they passed right before our eyes, the pair in perfect formation, their long gangly grey bodies, necks and wings perfectly illuminated and their rusty caps shining.  It was a stilling moment for all of us.  What did we do to be in just the right place at the right time? Many of our group said they were the Bird of the Day and for a while I weighed them against the Goshawk and Phalarope.  Hard to say.

It may be self evident, but traveling does produce some wonderful surprises.  Around Cape May I’ve seen many birds which are probably just commonplace to the locals, things like flocks of Glossy Ibis, Whimbrel and Black–bellied Plovers.

I started my day early fueled by two-for-the-price-of-one Egg McMuffins and a coffee, and went back to yesterday’s last stop.  The tide was approaching its high point so the shorebirds had moved closer to high ground and my path, so my re-acquaintance with Willet, Short–billed Dowitchers and Least Sandpipers was much more intimate.  I saw a huge cloud of indeterminate shorebirds wheeling in the distance and when I caught up with them I found hundreds of  Black-bellied Plovers, Short-billed Dowitchers and Dunlin furiously feeding on a rapidly vanishing tidal mud bank. As I watched the flock a pair of Black Skimmers flew overhead.

Moving down to the tip of Cape May I found Tri–coloured Heron, Orchard Oriole and Blue Grosbeak.  Of all of the above noted, most of them, with the exception Glossy Ibis, Tri-coloured Heron, Black Skimmer and Blue Grosbeak, are seen from time to time around home, but none of them could be called abundant.

I’m not one to get worked up about seeing a ‘lifer’; there’s plenty of new experiences to be had in this world, so while seeing a new-to-me-bird is a pleasure, it’s not champagne time.  Blue-headed Grosbeak and Seaside Sparrow were both new ones (as was Kirtland’s Warbler a few days ago).  But finding, watching and photographing a Piping Plover did set my hair on end. I’ve never seen one before so, despite the day’s enormous variety and wonderful sightings, it was instantly Bird of the Day.

A bit like the Kirtland’s Warbler, this little bird is an extreme rarity and it gets special protection whenever and wherever it’s known to breed.  The Atlantic beaches are favoured nesting sites for Piping Plovers, but vacationers and people in general like beaches too; so the plovers are losing ground.  But a few of them nest on the protected beaches of Cape May, and when I found mine it was wandering along the shoreline of a small pond picking and digging for food.  I hastened to get a for-the-record shot, but needn’t have worried for it kept walking towards me until we were within 10 feet of each other.

A list of birds seen would be too long and a little dreary, but Fish Crow, Clapper Rail, Brant and a Northern Harrier all added some wow-factor to the day.