Category: Uncategorized

17 September 2014. Cayuga ON. This must be a quick post, I’ve got far too much to do. But, today at the bird observatory I did the daily census as usual. It was a perfect, very late summer morning; coolish and dewy. Not many birds around for quite a while but at one corner I evidently intruded on the tranquility of family life for some Common Yellowthroats. They are common enough (as their name suggests) but that doesn’t distract in the slightest from their striking looks and endearing character. An on-territory male will always flit out to see what you’re up to and, with mild provocation, will click and chip at you for a minute or so while remaining almost out of sight. They rarely show themselves for more than a very few of seconds so they’re hard to photograph. However this morning one of this family group popped out to see what the fuss was all about (nothing really, just me walking by) and perhaps seeing nothing of particular interest just stayed where it was and allowed me to take a few pictures. For being so obligingly photogenic, it was my Bird of the Day.

We encountered many lovely migrants today; many warbler species: Magnolia, Chestnut–sided, Black-throated Green, Wilson’s and Blackpoll Warblers. Some of my favourites: Warbling, Philadelphia, Red-eyed and Yellow-throated Vireos and a few Swainson’s and Gray-cheeked Thrushes. It was all very nice; about as good as it gets. Oh, and these two Song Sparrows were kind of charming

15 September 2014. Cayuga ON. Last year, around this time, while doing the daily census at the bird observatory, I took long-distance photos of a couple of mystery birds. They were both high up and hard to get really good looks at. Still my photos were passable so I posted them on a local birding site and asked for others’ opinions. The consensus was that they were both of Scarlet Tanagers, either males in non-breeding plumage, or females, or juveniles. You see, while identifying and appreciating a male Scarlet Tanager in May or June is easy, the same cannot be said for late summer and fall when all of that glorious red-hot scarlet has given way to a drab olive green; now the males look like the females and juveniles. Here’s a couple of shots to illustrate.

Today, I spent the morning at the bird observatory and, as usual, undertook the daily census walk. It’s a hike of a kilometer or so around a prescribed route of various habitats, the task is to record all birds seen and heard. The hike is almost always rewarding and often surprising; only once or twice in the many years I’ve been doing the census have I not enjoyed it and those were only days when it was really miserably cold. The census today turned up a good variety of species including a couple of Black-throated Green Warblers and a Chestnut-sided Warbler, I heard Warbling and Yellow-throated Vireos and saw a couple of Red-eyed Vireos too, all of these birds are heading south, well south, for the winter. I caught sight of a Scarlet Tanager and knew it for what it was, it may be a drab greenish colour, but it’s profile is unmistakable.

In the high tops of some Black Walnut trees I found an Eastern Wood Peewee which was fly-catching and feeding a juvenile. This food dependency by the youngster struck me as very late, but according to the Ontario Breeding Bird Atlas, 2001-2005, egg laying continues into mid August so, allowing three to four weeks for incubation and fledging, it’s perfectly plausible; there’s always something new to learn.

Anyway, back to Bird of the Day. Also high in the tree tops was a yellowish-green bird actively preening itself. It hurt my neck trying to hold still and watch it, my inclination was that I was watching a Yellow-throated Vireo, a choice that was reinforced by the call of another one off to my left. I used my camera to get several shots of it and thought that I could comfortably double-check my identification a little later, somewhere less awkward and involving less neck pain. Identification from below can be a challenge. Well, the upshot of all of this is that, on reviewing the pictures, it became clear that it was not a Yellow-throated Vireo at all (and photographing thank goodness) but rather another Scarlet Tanager, probably a female. The rather stout beak, a slight fork in the tail and the extent of yellow underneath from throat to tail were indicative. The yellow on the underside of a Yellow-throated Vireo is limited to its breast, and then it’s white from belly to tail. As I said above, there’s always something new to learn and for the instructive moment the tanager was my Bird of the Day.

Above is a series of those photos of it preening. It was some fifty feet above me and hardly ever still, I had hoped to capture at least one good full headshot but it turned away every time just as I pressed the shutter.

7 September 2014. Fuente de Piedra, Spain. Stone Curlews are not especially uncommon birds, not to birders in Spain anyway. But today I spotted one under what to me seemed the most unlikely circumstances. I was part of a small group under the capable and entertaining leadership of Bob Buckler visiting various good inland birding sites. We were coming to the end of a full day and driving through a red-earth olive orchard, a monotonous mono-culture of identical trees set in geometrically precise ranks. I was staring out the window looking at the ground hoping for Hoopoes when I caught a momentary (less than one second, I’m sure) view of a wide-eyed, cartoonish face that I instantly recognised but whose name I couldn’t place. I yelled at Bob to stop the bus, claiming a Cream-colored Courser, which was quite wrong (although not too far off). Sensing my urgency Bob humoured me, stood on the brakes and backed up. The bird flew as soon as it saw us return, fortunately others glimpsed it sufficiently to dispel any suggestion that I was hallucinating, although I missed it this time. But what amazes me is first, that I saw it at all and second, that I recognized the face (if not the name).

For obvious reasons, I did not get a photo of this bird but I’ve managed to find a couple of freely available shots on Wikimedia Commons. I described the face as cartoonish and the more I look at it the more I think it looks like Lisa Simpson, and if that name is meaningless to you, click this link for more. I was telling my son about this encounter and showed him the lower photo, he immediately recognized it as the bird that screams hideously and scares the slumbering daylights out of campers in Queensland Australia. (Actually it’s not the same species, he had encountered Bush Stone-curlews, but there is a very strong family likeness.)

There were many other great sightings that day. We started early at a dusty off-road track with a couple of juvenile Rock Thrushes. To Bob-the-leader they were a sensational find and although rather distant, Bob managed to get some good pictures. At that same site we found Blue Rock Thrushes, Thekla Larks, and Black-collared Wheatears all wonderful birds and new to me.

Frankly the Stone Curlew didn’t really impress the others all that much. I guess it was the novelty and improbability of the sighting that appealed to me and made it my Bird of the Day. Bob’s choice was the Rock Thrushes but I’d say a Whinchat, a handful of Greater Flamingos and a bunch of Griffon Vultures were pretty good too. Here is a gallery of shots from that day.

(Visible only on the website, not if you’re reading this as an email.)

8 September 2014. La Janda, Cadiz, Spain. On this, the last day of my week in Spain, I was one of a small group of bird enthusiasts under the cheerful leadership of Bob Buckler, a British ex-pat and birder of infinite experience. Bob took us to places along the coast west of Gibraltar, places that Bob knows well enough to deliver surprise after surprise.

We spent most of the morning at a couple of strategic raptor-watching spots and saturated ourselves with passing streams of Honey Buzzards, Short-toed Eagles and Booted Eagles. They were a sort of supporting act because every now and then something new like a Peregrine Falcon, Long-legged Buzzard or Montague’s Harrier showed up to assure us that this was time well spent.

Later, we moved along the coast to La Janda, a large expanse of what was at one time a vast, shallow, fresh-water lagoon. For thousands of years it must have been an exceptional place for bird life but in the sixties, alas, it was drained to make room for rice, maize and cotton. It’s still a good birding spot but you spend a lot of time looking for good birds whilst driving along numbingly straight roads that stretch to the horizon.  The birds were there sure enough; White Storks in ranks of hundreds, Marsh Harriers patrolling and Little Egrets stalking.

But the best at La Janda, and certainly my Bird of the Day, was a secretive Red-necked Nightjar. I say secretive, but that’s not quite accurate, nightjars are birds of the dusk to dawn hours, so it might be fairer to say it was just roosting. Nevertheless, nightjars are also masters of cryptic colouration and the one in the picture below was completely invisible to one member of our group.

They are strange looking birds to be sure (not the only one though, as the picture of some Bald Ibises in the gallery below demonstrates), and have evolved as nocturnal hunters of flying insects. The bristles surrounding its mouth serve to help scoop and trap a captive moth and also to protect the nightjar’s eyes from a flailing victim. The camouflage patterning is nothing short of incredible, whether all individuals have the same feather-for-feather detail, I don’t know, but, from where I stood watching this unmoving bird, I could have sworn that one of its feathers really was a dry leaf.

There was plenty more on this day out (actually about 60 species) and a few of them are in this gallery (which visible only on the website, not if you’re reading this as an email.)

4 September 2014. Casares, Malaga, Spain. In my week in Andalusia, Spain I stayed in an idyllically situated guest house, Finca la Molina sits comfortably with its back against the steep tumbling wall of a mountain with commanding views to the north, east and south. At left, a truly massive peak, craggy, arid and in all likelihood thorny every step of the grueling way to the top. Across the valley, more mountains and precipitous cliffs which allow a toehold for a sparkling white village. And to the right, a long, widening valley which leads down to the Mediterranean lying under a haze of heat and dust. Time spent sitting on the terrace and gazing across the valley is endlessly worthwhile. Dark brings out the bats and Nightjars while the distant barking of village dogs tell of unseen visitors. By day and as soon as the sun has warmed the ground, the Griffon Vultures take flight; and that’s where this post really begins.

This wasn’t really a birding day, my son and I did more cultural things like visiting the remains of a nearby Roman town, enjoying a leisurely lunch and lying on a beach. But my field notes for the day refer to sightings of a Hoopoe (albeit fleetingly) a Lesser Kestrel and a stream of wind-tossed, migrant Black Kites. But late in the day we visited the nearby white village of Casares and there watched as hundreds of Griffon Vultures rode the waves of wind that flowed and swirled around the fractured rocky cliffs and outcrops. Somehow it seemed as if the very presence of the flock on its wind-borne joy-rides drew new birds to join them. As they gained height, sailed north and disappeared, then no sooner was one out of sight than another appeared from somewhere. Maybe they were just doing once-around-the-mountain circuits for the fun of it.

Watching the effortless control as they sailed and drifted, rising, sliding and turning, their wings so exquisitely right for the task, I could have watched these Birds of the Day for hours; it’s quite possible that I did. I managed to get a few decent photos and the nonchalant what-are-you-looking-at gaze of the one above says it all better than I ever could.