Author: Peter T

Bayview Park, Burlington ON. June 29 ^.2021. One of my Breeding Bird Atlas challenges is to complete a 5-minute point-count in an expanse of grassland.(Point-count: A tally of all birds seen and heard in a short period of time.) We don’t have much grassland here, not in the sense of wide-open and un-mown as might have existed before European settlement. What we do have is urban sprawl lapping up against a mix of deciduous woodlands and cash-crop farmland.

Luckily, many years ago, the city created a large park which now accommodates a leash-free dog park, a model airplane clubhouse with airstrip and little else except lots of deep un-mowed grass; certain grassland birds like it.

In the past two or three weeks I have spent many early morning hours here. It’s quieter then, certainly better before anxious dogs or model airplanes start to unsettle things and I like to think I have the birds to myself. Sitting alone and watching, I’ve got the measure of a Brown Thrasher’s territory and located the nests of Orchard Orioles, Baltimore Orioles, Barn Swallows and Killdeers.

I have also observed and counted a few strictly grassland birds.  Savannah Sparrows are everywhere and readily pop up out of the grass to show their anxiety. I confirmed them as a breeding species after watching one carry a beak-full of insects to its nestlings.

Bobolinks and Eastern Meadowlarks, unlike the sparrows, are much more secretive.  I hear them frequently but they take flight quickly and disappear into the grass long before anyone gets close. I’m certain they have partners and nests in there somewhere.

Something was different today, perhaps I was less conspicuous sitting in the shade; whatever the reason, an Eastern Meadowlark was my lucky-find Bird of the Day. It landed not twenty metres from me and spent a few minutes walking stiffly on the short-mown grass of the model airplane landing zone, picking for food and stopping every few paces to sing its melodic ‘spring-of-the-year’ song, a way of asserting his territorial rights. I was able to busy my camera and managed a few shots.

The deep yellow of its throat and breast and the dagger beak make a striking looking bird.

I view these meadowlarks and Bobolinks as incomplete stories: I wait and hope to see confirmation of breeding.  It won’t be by finding their nests, it would be destructive and unethical to try, but one of these days I’ll glimpse them carrying food to their young or perhaps see those youngsters developing their first flight skills.

Millbrook. ON. June 22^nd.2021. For the first time in a while, two of us got together for some birding purely for the entertainment value. We headed to a tract of dry scrubby habitat, quite unlike anything close to home and known to us for a good variety of birds.

Half way there, and Barry was starting to explain his latest bird-advocacy project, him against the weight of local government, when I broke into his train of thought to insist we investigate a certain roadside wetland just coming into view. It was a very rich spot, well worth the stop.

Surrounded by marshy vegetation we could make out small, shallow lakes sparkling beyond our clear line of sight. It set us wondering what uncommon wetland birds would be in there, and who you’d need to know to go and see. A Belted Kingfisher rattled past and we could hear Warbling Vireos and Red–eyed Vireos in the willows around, although to keep it in perspective, I should note that bird song was often lost to early morning truck traffic. As we were trying to be sure of a small flotilla of Wood Ducks, with a jolt I realised that a Yellow–throated Vireo was singing close overhead. A wow moment.

It’s not that a Yellow-throated Vireo has a particularly melodious song, probably more monotonous than melodious, but it is an uncommon bird distinctive for sounding like a hoarse-throated version of its Red-eyed Vireo cousin. None of which may sound all that important or engaging to a far-away reader, but some will recall that I have a soft spot for vireos of all stripes. Yellow-throated Vireo is a colourful, once-in-a-blue-moon bird anyway and rather lovable in a thuggish way. At that moment I knew it would be My Bird of the Day!

We moved on, Barry finished his story and we spent a couple of rewarding hours of entertainment-value birding. I would not do justice to a good morning’s birding if I left out that we saw several Clay–coloured Sparrows (which I think may have been a close-to lifer for me), Field Sparrows,Grasshopper Sparrows, and a Blue–winged Warbler; any of which could hold its own as a Bird of the Day were it not for the vireo.

Grindstone Creek, Burlington ON. June 13^{th .}2021. I have been paying close attention to the possible nest site of a pair of Belted Kingfishers. It started back in March when I noted kingfishers hanging around what at first seemed the unlikeliest of places, the wooded edge of a deep valley. After a while I realised that the site had merit, there was an exposed earthen face where a small landslip had occurred.  Just the sort of place for kingfishers to excavate a long nest burrow.

But that was March, nest use was several weeks away and it was very probable they were scouting out a host of possible sites. Still, I was intrigued.

From time to time in the weeks that followed I passed by the site, and to my surprise and growing interest, the kingfishers were never far away. They are shy birds and secretive about private matters and I’m sure they saw me long before I saw them, so it was hard to be really sure of their intentions for this site; but my hopes grew.  Today I sat uncomfortably for a long while in the deep cover of fresh green hoping to catch a glimpse of the birds. I hoped to clinch my now near certainty that they had indeed excavated a nest hole somewhere in the bank. I kept my camera poised just in case and, to cut a long story short, I can confirm with this lucky shot that they do indeed have an active nest, just as I had hoped and fantasised.

Quite apart from my satisfaction at having put the pieces of the puzzle together successfully, I have a sound confirmation of breeding for the Breeding Bird Atlas and of course Belted Kingfishers were my Birds of the Day.

RBG. Hendrie Valley, Burlington ON. June 5^{th .}2021. My Breeding Bird Atlas work is, of necessity, an opportunity to slow down, to linger, wait, watch and listen. Spending early morning hours just taking it all in is an education in itself. The same ground walked several times in the course of a couple of weeks reveals entwined and overlapping patterns of territory.

Sitting quietly one morning, I noticed quiet but repetitive activity that turned out to be industrious nest building by a pair of Blue-gray Gnatcatchers. The two of them worked busily with small fibres, lichen and spider silk to create a tiny platform which, with a day or two’s work, became a tidy little cup the size of half a tennis ball.  With the female nestled in it became almost invisible.

This morning I went to see a reported Orchard Oriole. He was easy to find and well within my assigned atlas square. But is he one of a breeding pair? I’m left with many unanswered questions.  You see, although he’s a singing male he may not be quite grown-up.  Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s Birds of the World website notes, “…the Orchard Oriole is the smallest oriole in North America. Adult males (after-second-year) have distinctive black and chestnut plumage, while yearling males (hatch-year and second-year) are yellow-greenish with a black bib. Females of any age, and recent fledglings of both sexes, are similar to hatch-year and second-year males but lack the black bib. Today’s bird was a yearling male, singing boldly and endlessly and prompting questions about his status:  Does he have a mate nearby? or is he still hoping to attract one?

I don’t know, not yet anyway, but it got me thinking about the prospects of males, marked as young by their plumage, to succeed at breeding. What are other indicators of age and maturity? What about yearling Red-winged Blackbirds, American Robins or Mallards?  They look grown-up, but maybe they’re just kids.

On-line research took me into some obscure corners of ornithology.  The Cornell site was helpful, it allows that some Orchard Oriole yearlings do indeed breed successfully. So there, the appearance of youth doesn’t necessarily preclude pair-bonding and reproduction; it happens sometimes. And I can’t leave it at that without noting that the same holds for humans too. 

I will continue to monitor this young Orchard Oriole.  Today he was My Bird of the Day, next week he may get a promotion. Who knows?

Grey Doe Trail, Royal Botanical Gardens, Hamilton ON. May 29^th.^.2021. Steady driving rain yesterday came close to snow a couple of times. It was not a day to be outside, it was a day for catching up instead.

This morning was a bit warmer but a cold northerly wind tugged at tree tops and the spring-green world looked bruised. I did a long and pleasant transect, with lots of birds but in two hours didn’t see another soul. Instead the day rewarded me with some heartwarming bird sightings including: A Northern Flicker atop a spruce, a Pileated Woodpecker working over an old birch stump and a Scarlet Tanager high in a leaf-bare ash.

In a dense woodland, a small, clear-toned and complex song from low in a dense tangle of brambles caught my attention. It was nearly, but not quite, familiar.  In my mind I sorted through all the likely warbler songs but none that I could think of was a fit. I tried to get the bird’s attention but all it did was move behind me staying out of sight and firing off a couple more snippets of song. Many unproductive minutes later I shrugged and decided to leave; but sensing my near-surrender, the bird warbled briefly to prolong the challenge. It circled me, staying low most of the time until finally I got this glimpse, a Mourning Warbler; I smiled to myself, it had been well worth my persistence.

Mourning Warblers have a fairly distinctive song but this one’s was a little off, at least that’s my excuse. They are a handsome, if somewhat sombre looking, bird and well deserving of the name, with the male having solid yellow underparts, pinkish legs, and a dusky grey hood turning to a blackish facemask. I suspect this one to be a younger male, perhaps hatched last year, because its belly seems a little duller yellow than expected.  Mourning Warblers are reportedly fairly common but rarely seen because of their reclusive and evasive habits. They prefer exactly the kind of dense, second growth tangles I found it in today and when found are always a bit of a triumph. It was easily My Bird of the Day.