Category: Uncategorized

Hidden Valley Rd, Burlington, ON May 5.  2022. Back in February I was asked by this city’s recreation department if I’d be interested and able to lead some birding walks in May. My first thought was, ‘Really? Are sure you want to do that? Instead I said, ‘Sure. Let’s try it.’ So we did. The first one was in mid-April and was a bit of a non-event, although the handful of participants liked it, particularly an obliging Red-tailed Hawk that circled low overhead. Our second one, in early May, promised more birds, but a nasty weather system made it touch and go for a while. Anyway, on May fifth, off we went, about six of us including a city-staffer.

We made a last-minute change of location on account of the weather and ended up walking a quiet, rural road.  It followed a small river valley and dead-ended at a forest, there was a scattering of modest homes, it was all rather idyllic; and there were birds to see. We saw and shared, to greater or lesser extents, twenty-two species including Red-bellied Woodpeckers, a Belted Kingfisher, many Blue Jays including a pair building a nest and a breath-taking Rose–breasted Grosbeak. There were several predictables too: Canada Geese, Mourning Doves and Song Sparrows.  For me it is rewarding to helping people get started: when you show them how to adjust the eye-pieces on their binoculars and how to get the bird in your binocular view without hunting helplessly.

Someone asked if there were any Baltimore Orioles and I had to tell my story: That several springs ago, a young birder friend asked when the orioles come back. The fifth of May I said emphatically. I was pretty sure of it because I’d been noting their near clockwork regularity over the years. She negotiated a bit,  laughed it off and let it go.  But then, on the 3^rd of May she called me to say that I was right – almost. It was the third and they were back! The moral of the story is that you can nearly set your watch by them.

And then there was one right above us!  A Baltimore Oriole high on a straggly bare branch. The fifth of May and there it was. We gasped at its brilliant orange. So spectacular. For some it was the first oriole they’d seen for years, and I was the magician. Well, no, I’m not, it happens every May on the 5^th or maybe the 3^rd.

Higbee Beach, New Jersey April 30.  2022. The thing about the Cape May area is there’s so much to see. I knew April was a bit too early for the wonder of warblers, but still there would be much to see, many places to go and that a day or so at the south end of the peninsula mustn’t be missed. This morning I made an early trip to Higbee Beach, a protected zone of fields, hardwoods and shoreline that you can count on for good birding.

On arrival, I was greeted by the punchy songs of White-eyed Vireos and Carolina Wrens who were trying to out-sing them; they are evenly matched. I heard my first Great Crested Flycatchers of the year and a little surprised at White-throated Sparrows everywhere, just like at home.

Another birder was staring into a particularly dense mass of trees, shrubs and grapes and listening attentively. He answered my implied question with head nod, “There’s a Swainson’s Warbler in there somewhere. It’s been reported here but I haven’t seen it.”  With that, something sang and he shrugged, “That’s it.” I admit to being a little flabbergasted, believing that Swainson’s Warblers are birds of central and southern states, and remembering the lengths that a companion and I went to find one in Kentucky three years ago. Well, I heard it, and knowing that it is a bird that takes great pains to remain unseen, I moved on.

A bright, boldly marked, little yellow bird popped up right in front of me, allowed me enough time to fumble with my camera and then vanished. My mind flipped through the possibilities and left me scratching my head, but minutes later it was showed up again: a Prairie Warbler. It was instantly My Bird of the Day: I have a handful of fond memories of Prairie Warblers, they are rather uncommon and much sought-after in my part of the world, certainly worth going out of my way for.

My day had just begun and I visited two or three other bird-rich places, still the Prairie Warbler stayed as number one for the day. It was unmoved by the rarity of the Swainson’s Warbler, the novelty of White-eyed Vireos or the first of the year Great Crested Flycatchers.

Nothing else held a candle to it: My day included the realisation that I was seeing and hearing Carolina Chickadees, not our common look-alike Black-capped Chickadees. I welcomed back Common Yellowthroats, Purple Martins, and Ruby–throated Hummingbirds and in the afternoon was captivated by Black Skimmers and Glossy Ibises; all great birds. That’s the thing about Cape May – all great birds.

Matts Landing, Heislerville, New Jersey. April  29. 2022. Although it takes nearly twelve hours of driving, a birding trip to the Cape May area has always been worth my while. I arrived this morning with the prospect of a full day of birding ahead, I was reasonably fresh and eager to get going having made an overnight stop just an hour or so north of Philadelphia.

It’s the geography of Cape May that makes it a birding hotspot.  The low-lying, well forested and marsh-girdled peninsula stands on the north side of the shortest crossing point of the wide Delaware River estuary.  It is on the Atlantic coastal route of spring migrants, millions of smaller forest and inland birds as well as shorebirds, all heading north.   It was already warmer than Ontario, perhaps three weeks ahead in unfolding spring.  It was bright and spring green although a touch cool especially exposed to the brisk west wind.

I made my start at Matt’s Landing, an out of the way, elevated, causeway with open waters to one side and enclosed ponds on the other.  It was a little after high tide which helped, because at low tide shorebirds disperse to feed on the millions of acres of exposed mudflats, while now, at high water they gather in large groups in peaceful refuges like these ponds.  The best spring-migrant days are yet to come but I was content with a fast-growing tally including many, easy to observe, Willets, Snowy Egrets, Semi-palmated Plovers, Dunlin, Sanderlings, Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs and, easily My Bird of the Day a Black-bellied Plover.

This single bird today (above) had me baffled for a while, I was in half a mind to call it an American Golden Plover.  Later with the luxury of internet in the comfort of a motel room, it became clear that it was a Black-bellied Plover. The two species look alike through the fall and winter months and my rather confusing bird was in mid-moult. It’s been some years since I last saw one and I remember now, from previous visits, that Black-bellied Plovers are abundant here in May; a week or two later and there would be no doubt. And, in any case, American Golden Plovers tend to migrate up the middle of the continent rather than along the Atlantic coast.

Later I followed a trail out over an expanse of salt-marsh. The wind rather took the fun out of it but birding was easy pickings: Ospreys on and around nest platforms, a flock of 14 Brant Geese, a Tri–colored Heron, many noisy Willets, a handful of Least Sandpipers and the sound (but not the sight) of Clapper Rails made it all very satisfying.

The weariness of my long drive faded.

Grindstone Creek, Burlington ON. April 24 ^.2022. A beautiful April day, the sort we long for as late winter grinds on. April always reserves the right to allow a bit of winter back in but today it dished up a handful of birding treats.

I started the day with a transect through my favourite valley and was very happy with thirty-seven species including a Ruby Crowned Kinglet, a pair of Blue–winged Teal, an ever-shy Hermit Thrush and a Caspian Tern; none of them sensational, just nice to see them back. I heard a Swamp Sparrow singing and wondered what my chances were of seeing it, they can be a bit secretive; but this one was close so I crossed my fingers. I climbed onto a tree stump to better my view of the swamp whereupon it came over and started to sing in front of me. Somehow everything fell into place, here it is.  One of the pleasures of a good look at a Swamp Sparrow is noting its rich, foxy red wings, visible on my photo.

I stopped to check on a known site for Eastern Bluebirds and watched a pair working hard to keep Tree Swallows from taking over their nest box. Actually, there were two nest boxes almost side by side and I think that at the end of the day each pair will get what they want, but for now they’re having trouble seeing past the mere presence of rivals.

This afternoon we walked a trail along a wooded valley edge. The perfect walk on a perfect spring day with Bloodroot flowers now open, the earliest native flowers of spring. A sunning DeKay’s Brown Snake lay stretched along our path and a pair of Ospreys has taken control of their habitual nest site on a tall communication tower.

Clear musical bird song filtered through to us and at first I thought it might be a Northern Mockingbird, but I was wrong (although close, same family). I was hearing the very welcome and characteristic song of a Brown Thrasher. Apart from being variably inventive the song is distinctive for usually having each phrase uttered twice, rather famously described as: “plant-a-seed, plant-a-seed, bury-it, bury-it, cover-it-up, cover-it-up, let-it-grow, let-it-grow, pull-it-up, pull-it-up, eat-it, eat-it, yum-yum” (Thanks to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology for that. I couldn’t have hoped to come close.)

Brown Thrashers are birds with presence. Apart from their compelling song, they can be very conspicuous scratching and picking noisily in leaf litter. Get a glimpse and you’ll see a long tailed, yellow-eyed brown bird like a large thrush. Conspicuous too in that they’ll usually sing from a commanding-view perch, but sometimes quick to take flight. It was that declarative ‘I’m back’ song that was enough to make the Brown Thrasher My Bird of the Day today.

 

Royal Botanical Gardens. Hendrie Valley, Burlington. ON. April 17 2022.  A cold start to the day, windy and barely above freezing, not the sort of conditions that suit insectivores and yet they continue to appear. Easter Sunday is the kind of day that brings out family groups, sometimes noisy, sometimes dog-entangled, the sort of company I’d rather avoid on a transect, so I started early. Warmly dressed but still my knuckles stiffened. It took a while to spot anything out of the ordinary although a now familiar Eastern Screech Owl sitting at its tree-hole door was an easy pleasure.

The surprise of the day was a Yellow–rumped Warbler a precursor to May’s mad warbler rush to come. Yellow-rumps are pretty hardy, they are just about the latest warbler to leave us (in mid October,) and one of the earliest to return. A mid-April, Yellow-rumped Warbler, although early, is not out of line. It is nevertheless welcome especially for its contrast to the still leafless winter-weary world. It wasn’t My Bird of the Day though because swallows got me first.

The swallows were three each of Tree Swallows and Northern Rough–winged Swallows. They were flying in swooping sweeps and loops, presumably chasing whatever airborne insects there were on this cold morning. Occasionally they’d settle together, catch their breath and swap notes before skipping up, out and away again. I rate them as My Birds of the Day partly for being here and partly for obliging me by perching right in front of me on one of their rest breaks.