Author: Peter T

Oakes Rd. Grimsby ON. February 18th. 2021.  Until today, I don’t think I’ve ever posted two consecutive entries celebrating the same species. But, since last week’s Snow Bunting posting we have received two significant snow falls, so staying home has made sense: many roads are icy and some of my favoured trails are inaccessible. But today we needed to make a short trip to collect some yards of 2/8 cotton in pale yellow (You’d have to ask the weaver in my household for more about that.) and that took us in the right direction to follow up on yesterday’s report of another flock of Snow Buntings.

The bunting report specified that they were seen along a former road, now a wide path, that bisects a large field set aside for dog-walkers and their best-friend companions. The now much-reduced road ends abruptly at the rocky , ice-cramped, shoreline of Lake Ontario.  It can be quite scenic on a nice day, but better if you’re looking towards the lake and not back at the encroaching urbanisation. Scenic views as beauty are in the eye of the beholder but even the most accommodating might have found it difficult today as the stiff north-easterly wind tugged at our hats and coats, caused our eyes to stream and made minus 5 deg.C feel like minus 20.

The Snow Buntings were there, as reported, in a big flock of perhaps two or three hundred, it was quite a spectacle and surprisingly easy to find and follow. The birds gathered in milling carpets, shoulder to shoulder, focussing on the bare road surface presumably finding weed seeds or possibly the bits of grit needed for digestion, whatever the purpose they were front and centre. But they didn’t stay anywhere very long, a minute or two and they’d take off in a swirling, chittering cloud, make a wide, undulating swoop, circling around and settling again a little further along to resume the search.

Eyes watering and shooting almost blindly, I took many photos,. The results were surprisingly good and I was able to pick out at least one Lapland Longspur in the crowd. But Longspur or not, the day goes to Snow Buntings.

Hagerville. ON. February 9th. 2021.  Another snowfall last night, light and very cold, the sort of snow that brushes off easily. In urban areas like ours, clean snow soon becomes trampled and grubby so it was with some pleasure that we went on a long drive to an area of rich farmland where the snow really did lie deep and crisp and even. 

With our errand complete and plenty of time in hand, we drove back along quiet country roads heading generally in the direction of home, expecting and hoping to see some birds of winter along the way: Horned Larks in particular (we saw several little flocks), and Lapland Longspurs or Snow Buntings if we were lucky. 

Knowing that Snow Buntings and longspurs were very much a matter of luck, I thought we should visit a quiet backroad where, in previous years, a birding friend Nancy has trapped and banded Snow Buntings. It’s something only possible in mid-winter when there’s a blanket of snow and I was gambling with favourable odds that she would be there today.  

Snow Buntings are winter visitors and congregate in flocks of a few hundred and favour open, apparently desolate places like their high-Arctic home, so farmland with some weedy fields is ideal. To get her buntings, Nancy provides a daily scatter of grain with some tantalisingly placed inside small walk-in traps. Some wander in, are unable to find the way out and once trapped are carefully collected, banded and quickly released. I worked alongside her one bitter January morning six years ago and suffered frostbite for my troubles, but still it is a beautiful experience on a bright winter morning with stark white fields under a clear blue sky. 

We were in luck arriving just as Nancy was finishing a busy morning of banding about 140, mostly female, buntings.  We watched as clouds of buntings settled to pick over the provided corn. After a few minutes, at some mysterious prompt, they would lift off in a twittering scramble, fly around like a rolling snowsquall and eventually regroup back at the same place to continue feeding.

There was a bit more to it than Snow Buntings: a small flock of Common Redpolls worked their way along the weedy roadside ditch and Nancy pointed out a Northern Harrier patrolling the margins of far hedgerows. Either of those two species might be bird of the day, but not with Snow Buntings as competition, who were definitely my Birds of the Day.

Plains Rd. Burlington. ON. February 3^rd. 2021. A couple of unlikely sightings today. The first was a Wild Turkey that had become something of a celebrity in its neighbourhood.  It has taken up residence in a busy, mixed-use, urban part of town where followers of a local Facebook group keep everyone current on its whereabouts. Today I photographed it whiling away time on top of an array of traffic lights at a very busy crossroads. A passer-by told me that just yesterday, it had stopped all commerce as it sauntered through the intersection while a police officer directed traffic.  It’s not uncommon in this city to have to stop for a slow moving parade of Canada Geese crossing the road, but turkeys!

The turkey’s behaviour is bizarre and hard to explain other than to suggest that it’s got something to do with winter. There is a substantial flock known to inhabit an area of woodland and farm fields a couple of kilometres north, but it’s not like it’s a hop and a skip away. To get there means crossing a major railway line and a 6-lane highway among other man-made barriers; but Wild Turkeys are strong fliers. Who knows.

More conventionally but striking in other ways, was the pleasure of seeing two Eastern Screech Owls sunning themselves. I’ve written about them before, the grey one (above) just a month ago, and today it was standing tall exposed to the sun’s precious warmth. The red one was in a well-known owl-tree in a local cemetery, its presence was almost predictable.  Screech Owls sunning themselves has become a mark of mid-late winter for me, a reminder that, while there’s plenty of cold ahead, the sun is gaining strength.

RBG Arboretum, Hamilton. ON. January 27^th. 2021. A steady snowfall took up most of yesterday and was revealed this morning as two- or three-inches worth lying where it touched down and outlining every branch, stalk and stem. I walked these lakeside trails this morning mostly for the exercise but soon it became more for the magic. I ventured down to the frozen water’s edge noting that the gravel shore was glazed with ice. Stepping tentatively (I thought) my feet slid out from under me and I landed gracelessly on the body’s most cushiony muscle. No damage done to me, my camera or binoculars, just a bit of snow on lenses and a reminder to stick to the trails.

Just ahead I could see some fluttering bird activity, another morning walker had caught the attention of many Black-capped Chickadees, Dark-eyed Juncos and American Tree Sparrows, I think they were hoping she had brought them some food but soon realised she hadn’t so turned their attention to me. I wasn’t bringing food either but a stick clenched in my fist looked suspicious enough to them that half a dozen chickadees took turns taste testing it.

As they checked, this busy Red-bellied Woodpecker flicked ice and snow from a downed log.  While all very enchanting from my point of view, it was probably all a mission of urgency from theirs.

A little further along, the trees were lively with dozens, perhaps hundreds, of American Robins, all chuckling or singing softly. I watched them all around me and followed one as it flew to a snowy branch where,  once I got my binoculars on it, I noticed that it wasn’t a robin at all, but a Northern Flicker (masthead photo); a big and welcome surprise because flickers are few and far between in winter months, most left for warmer places three months ago. Enough of a welcome surprise to make it My Bird of the Day.

So, two nice woodpeckers so far, the red-bellied, the flicker, then not very far along, a Downy Woodpecker accompanied by this Red-breasted Nuthatch on a charm-offensive. In this photo it was directly overhead and so close that I wasn’t sure a photo was possible.

LaSalle Marina, Burlington, ON. January 24^th. 2021. This Northern Pintail was no surprise, I was half expecting to see it. He’d first shown up here a month or so ago and seems to be content mixing in with shuffling hordes of Mallards and Canada Geese, unconcerned that there are no other pintails for company.

I’d spent the first half of the morning in quiet, birdless woodlands and decided to visit our waterside park on the way home. My plan was to see how many bird species I could find here, knowing that, if nothing else, there would always be plenty of ducks.  I’ve started keeping a record for 2021 of bird species within a 5-mile radius of home. It’s a harmless project, I did it last year and logged 171, you never know what might show up. Last year held some big surprises, oddities like a last minute American Bittern (deranged I think) and even a Ruffed Grouse.  To give this a bit of context, home is in the older heart of a city that has become a suburb of Toronto. It’s all a big sprawl but we live within a kilometre of Lake Ontario and really not very far from farmlands and woodlands, it stands to reason that there is much bird variety.

I walked the length of this park and quickly noted about 20 species: easy ones, old familiars like Black-capped Chickadees, House Sparrows and Carolina Wrens, and because it is a waterfront park, Herring Gulls, Lesser Scaup and Canvasbacks too. An adult Bald Eagle sat high atop a White Pine presiding over the proceedings below, likely watching for any weakling who could become a meal later.  

Many of the duck species gather here in huge numbers, sitting out the winter months in bobbing flotillas. I can’t help wondering what, if anything, they think about all day, just waiting out the winter months. I suppose that’s what my lovely, adult male Northern Pintail is doing, passing time with Mallards.  He made a valuable addition to my 5-mile list, one of our most handsome ducks and My Bird of the Day.