Author: Peter T

April 17 2018 Cootes Paradise, RBG, Hamilton, ON. Bird of the Day today was unquestionably an American Woodcock, actually there were two of them. The story behind it takes a bit of framing, recent weather conditions, the bird’s hunger and a big dollop of luck came together to allow us the privilege of a prolonged look at this relatively common but hardly-ever seen bird.

First the weather. Spring sometimes shows its hand in April but I’m sure the month owes its allegiance more to winter. My diary has as many April references to nasty cold snaps, thick ice and driving snow as it does to patches of unseasonable warmth. We have just emerged from two-and-a-bit days of mistreatment by the convergence of a couple of storm systems, one delivering moisture, rain, the other bringing Arctic temperatures, turning it to ice. All is quiet now but the ground is either frozen and overlaid with crunchy snow and ice, or open and waterlogged. This violent and icy storm was almost certainly fatal to birds of all species as food became totally inaccessible.

And what is it about American Woodcocks that makes them such a novelty? Woodcocks are birds of the woodland-floor and must go unseen and unnoticed. They are cryptically coloured like a scattering of woodland debris and if danger is close they usually become absolutely motionless, freezing on the spot. The only time and place to reliably see them is when the males perform their elaborate spring display flights, and it’s usually dark or nearly so, so you don’t really get much of a look, just glimpses of a bird spiraling up against the fading evening sky.

They need to be where the ground is richly organic and soft enough to use their exaggeratedly long bills to probe for squishy invertebrate food. Books all say they live on a diet of earthworms yet there are no native North American earthworms. Before the arrival of Europeans (bringing familiar plants and, inevitably, earthworms), woodcocks must have lived quite happily on something else. Earthworms or not, for a woodcock to survive a freeze-up it must find soft ground and today’s sites, low boggy hollows with free-running water, met their need.

All of the above is probably more than enough to set the stage, because really all that happened is that we were out birding and happened upon two American Woodcocks. Both sightings were, I’m sure, because the birds had been driven from the frozen forest floor to the margins where it was wetter and most importantly soft. One hastened away from a tangle of blackberry canes heading back to the forest on little bouncing strides, the second and by far the most breathtaking we found in a wide and damp wooded valley. Realising the difficult conditions woodcocks were facing, I half anticipated finding one here so, using binoculars to search the ground methodically and without the usual peripheral distractions, it somehow just popped into view.  Unlike the first who promptly left the area the second one opted for the invisibility tactic so crouched motionless for as long as we were anywhere in sight.

I have included these few photos, but interesting as they may be, they don’t quite capture the way the bird can vanish against the background; you can see it one minute and lose it the next.

And just for fun and to further illustrate the exquisite camouflage of some birds here are two other candidates for invisibility: a Wilson Snipe ( choosing to be conspicuous) and a Red-necked Nightjar.

April 7 2018 Cootes Paradise, RBG, Hamilton, ON. A year ago, in fact exactly a year ago, My Bird of the Day was a Merlin, you can read about it here. I could save myself a lot of keyboard angst if I left it at that, just suggesting you advance all dates by exactly one year; but that would take all the fun out writing, rewriting, and endlessly correcting the same maddening finger-slips.

Today I joined a group of enthusiastic birders walking crunchy frozen trails through fields and woodland looking for the April’s promise; promises that April kept to itself, but the group’s enthusiasm made up for the cutting northwest wind that made our eyes stream and noses drip.

We managed to find a few encouraging birds: mostly Dark-eyed Juncos, a sprinkling of Downy and Red-bellied Woodpeckers and a few raptors for the day: a far off adult Bald Eagle, a wind-tossed Red–tailed Hawk and Bird of the Day a Merlin. Referring back to the Merlin of this date last year, it was atop a Red Oak on the edge of a parking lot whereas today’s was sitting quietly midway up a Red Ash a very few feet from us, and there it remained for perhaps fifteen minutes. It seemed content to watch the world go by; perhaps it had eaten very recently. Our group was rightly excited with this opportunity to study the bird closely as our leader read aloud its description from his field guide, every detail was a perfect fit.

Could this be the same bird? The same day, the same time and almost the same place. The two sightings were from within 500M of each other, an easy skip and a jump for a Merlin. Here’s a couple of shots of today’s Merlin, my Bird of the Day.

April 5 2018 Hendrie Valley, RBG, Burlington, ON. The solitary Tree Swallow of a few days ago has company. On the Longwatch transect today we watched a flock of thirty or forty swallows coursing the length of the pond looking for food. At times like this, while the air is still cold and few insects are flying they depend heavily on emerging insects and larvae at the surface of lakes and ponds. It was cold, barely above freezing, and the Tree Swallows must be hungry. This photo includes thirty-two of the flock resting between end-to-end sorties over the pond.

My Bird of the Day was the first bird of the transect, a Red–breasted Nuthatch. Some may protest, What’s special about a Red-breasted Nuthatch? Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I like them, I like the blush of chestnut on the breast and their relative daintiness as compared to the more pedestrian White-breasted Nuthatch; and perhaps I’ve seen enough of the latter to last a lifetime. Red-breasted Nuthatches are not particularly uncommon it’s true, it’s all about where you are, they favour coniferous forests over deciduous, while I favour them in the reverse order.

Our efforts turned up a few nice first-of-the-year early arrivals: twos of Belted Kingfishers and Great Blue Herons, a Brown–headed Cowbird (there will be plenty of them to follow), and a Pied–billed Grebe. Among all the male Red–winged Blackbirds clamouring for attention we saw just one female, they always lag behind the males by a couple of weeks perhaps hoping to find they have secured a suitable breeding territory. And while the male red-wing is striking in black and scarlet, the female is quite different, she is more sparrow-like in browns and cream, streaked and mottled, but, and here is the beauty in this bird, she has a glorious peach-coloured wash on her face.

Speaking of sexual dimorphism, as we compared a pair of Wood Ducks at fairly close quarters, admiring the flamboyant plumage of the male in particular, my companion noted that the fashion world often finds inspiration in the world of bird plumages. Makes sense, although apparently we’ve applied the lessons in reverse with women’s clothing taking on colour and dazzling display while menswear stays with restraint and earth colours.

March 31 2018 Hendrie Valley, RBG, Burlington, ON. Thank you March, you can leave now. Stuck like a weary gate between February’s winter and April’s spring, you allowed a few birds through but you’re losing your grip and it’s time to go.

On these last two days of March we start our Longwatch transects. If Longwatch means little to you, take a look at this site www.longwatch.ca (It’s not huge but it will explain a lot.) Essentially we are conducting a study of bird populations during the four best birding months of the year: April, May, September and October, we do it by walking defined routes and recording all bird seen and heard. It’s rewarding work (but unpaid).

My two-kilometer route took me around this forested valley; it’s always rich in birds and rarely is it repetitive. It’s very sheltered and several species find enough food and comfort there to keep them going through the winter months. Over-winterers includes a few Winter Wrens and today I was buoyed to hear one singing a hundred meters or so away, a thin, thread-like song but powerful enough to stake a claim in the dense and gloomy woodlands they favour. Hearing it tipped the balance from a nice early spring day to a good one.

Mallards and Wood Ducks have returned, so far more males than females it seems. Canada Geese have staked out their territories and I watched a pair of them, heads and necks low, half fly half gallop to chase off two would-be settlers. With the interlopers conclusively gone, the defenders bobbed and bowed in mutual admiration and confirmation of having done the right thing.

Bird of the Day was a single Tree Swallow flying roller-coaster swoops over the waters of one of the large ponds. Tree Swallows are well established on this pond and many more will follow but early arrivals like this one run the risk of a cold spell that would put an end to the supply of insects. A couple of years ago we had an extraordinarily vicious late cold snap that must have been fatal to many insectivorous birds. This photo of a group of hungry and cold Tree Swallows was taken on May 5^th; plenty of time yet for a change of fortunes.

My day’s total species count was thirty three and also included five Ring–necked Ducks, a couple of Buffleheads, a young Bald Eagle and handsome pairs of Trumpeter Swans and Northern Shovelers.

March 11 2018. Merrick Orchard, Dundas Hamilton, ON.  I think it happens to all of us: you entertain a fleeting and random thought and no sooner has your attention let it go than the object of that randomness suddenly pops up in real life, right in front of you. Sometimes you can rationalize the coincidence, other times it gets you wondering about sixth senses, apparitions or guardian angels; or maybe it’s just plain old coincidence after all.

Today’s random pop-up was an Eastern Bluebird, actually a pair of them. I had been hiking a long and, at times challenging, woodland trail with steep hills and patches of ice (a nasty combination). The trail eventually opened up to a grassy old orchard dotted with patches of Multiflora Rose, it was where several trails came together. Just as I was thinking that it was the right sort of habitat for bluebirds or maybe even a shrike, and making a mental note to come back in a couple of months, a small bird flew up from the edge of the path to an overhanging branch. A quick binocular look and there, as if fulfilling a prophesy, was an Eastern Bluebird, it made my head spin for a moment. As I debated whether I could make any photographic sense of it, it flew to one of those clumps of Multiflora Rose taking its mate with it. That was an improvement as it was now close enough to be able to get several decent shots. It’s hard to imagine a more subtly beautiful bird than this, there are many equally beautiful, but how could anyone improve on this little thrush? (Yes, a thrush.)

As I continued my walk the unmistakable ringing call of a Pileated Woodpecker from somewhere back in the forest added nicely to an otherwise rather un-birdy late winter hike.

I remember a similar sort of happy coincidence three years ago in New Jersey when, as a friend and I walked out of a woodland edge and into an open but scrubby field, I commented that this felt like a good spot for Blue-winged Warblers. With that, one started singing just a few yards away. I wondered at the time whether its faint beee-bzzzzz song had found its way into the wait-a-minute-I’m-too busy-right-now corner of my brain and just needed a trip to my consciousness; or was it something altogether more obscure and spectral? Or maybe I just spend too much time birding.