Category: Uncategorized

June 3 2012.  A big rotating system of stormy wet weather has moved slowly through, blessing us with a lot of much needed rain.  Now three days later, the skies remain ragged and uncertain, and every now and then we get a squall of hard driven rain.  I don’t think anyone’s complaining very much though.

In this uncertain weather I went out on a group hike to see what we could find in a nearby landscape of hills, woods and swamps. As it turned out the rain held off, except for a couple of short lived bursts, but the wind made things noisy so birding by ear was tough.

Over the first half of the morning we enjoyed hearing and seeing several Veerys, Cedar Waxwings and Eastern Kingbirds.  We briefly heard the abrupt “Free-be-O” of an Alder Flycatcher and picked up the faint song of a Black and White Warbler.  On a walk through dense wet woodland we had an opportunity to study a Northern Waterthrush singing its splattery “Twit twit twit- sweet sweet sweet -tew tew tew.” song.  A couple of singing Canada Warblers eventually showed themselves but my attempts at photographs were frustratingly out of focus.

Later as we drove to our final destination, we came upon a family of American Woodcocks venturing to cross the road in front of us. We stopped the car of course but they didn’t stay around for very long.  It was a one of the most curious bird sightings I’ve had this year (and Birds of the Day without question).  Woodcocks are shy, retiring, cryptically coloured birds of woodlands and woodland margins.  You rarely see them except perhaps in early spring (I blogged about their courtship displays in mid April) and thereafter sightings usually come about if you startle them by stepping on them.  But here was this family, 2 adults and 3 youngsters, stepping out onto the roadway.  They are wonderful birds with their round bodies, outlandishly long bills and waddling bouncing gait as if suspended on a rubber string.   I managed to get a couple of not very special photographs through the car windshield. I’ll post better ones if someone else has them.

That interlude left us wondering what our next planned stop could possibly deliver that could be better than the woodcocks, but we were soon well rewarded by studying at length a singing Grasshopper Sparrow.  It stayed obligingly close giving us the chance to get to know it much better, a great opportunity as they are difficult birds to find with any regularity. As the sky darkened we rounded out the day by re-finding the Prairie Warbler I’d visited last week and catching a glimpse of a Blue-winged Warbler.

May 29, 2012.  Last year a Prairie Warbler was found about a 30 minute drive from home, it appeared to be on territory, so rather interesting.  Prairie Warblers are uncommon in Ontario; in fact the sighting of one is a celebratory event.  Today I decided to go and see if last year’s bird had returned to the same site.  It was a very worthwhile trip because I found one and then perhaps 2 more in the same general area.

It was quite hot today and my daughter’s Black Labrador was shuffling slowly along beside me.  He’s a good companion who stays within a few yards of me at all times; just as well, I wouldn’t want an unruly or undisciplined dog spoiling the experience.  We are well into a prolonged drought, one that started late last year and played a large part in giving us such a mild and snow-free winter.  Most rivers and creeks are shrunken, and while everything looks green and lush right now, the heat of summer will do a lot of damage unless we get enough rain to recharge groundwater levels.   I mention this because the Prairie Warbler’s territory lies close to a march of power lines where the soil is thin and the vegetation scrubby.  Along the way I noted many herbaceous plants withering; when plants wilt for lack water, it’s okay, wilting can be reversed, but withering cannot.

As I walked I watched a Brown Thrasher singing loudly from a the top of a dead elm, Thrashers thrive in scrubby habitat like this; but little else was singing, perhaps because it was mid-afternoon. To cut a long story (and walk) short I eventually heard the distinctive rising buzz of a Prairie Warbler, it’s a song low on volume that seems to carry well despite that.  The song is a fast, buzzy trill that rises to a sudden staccato ending: “doo doo dee dee dee de de ddd ee”. I found the bird with little effort and was able to walk to within a few yards of him and get some photos. Very suddenly his song changed and he flew off quickly to intercept 2 more small birds flying nearby; perhaps they too were Prairie Warblers, which gives me hope that there may be a small breeding population here.

May 27th 2012. I have a goal to explore more of a rural municipality nearby, one rich in swampy forests, marshes and upland fields.  The landscape owes much of its natural and scenic interest to post-glacial land forms, features such as drumlins, eskers and other ice-sheet leftovers that have trapped water between abrupt hills and ensure meandering courses for the many rivers and creeks.

This morning, long before most people were up and about, I decided to walk a long but straight path that started at the top of a hill and then plunged into a low flat and wet valley.  The view at the top was wonderful and almost endless, a convenient bench is there for a very good reason.  Wide fields of grass, still uncut (& I hope they stay that way for a while yet) support Bobolinks, Savannah Sparrows and Eastern Meadowlarks; all were singing.  It was a morning of bird song because the hedgerow was home to singing Yellow Warblers, a House Wren and a pair of Eastern Kingbirds that flew from treetop to treetop making their distinctive clinking tin can sound.

At the bottom of the hill the wide, dry path continued straight through dense wet woodland that was lively with the songs of Gray Catbirds, Eastern Wood Peewees and several Northern Waterthrushes.  I couldn’t really see any of them, the woods are so dense that anything beyond 6 feet away is pretty much out of sight.  The Northern Waterthrush has a sharp, loud, assertive song; sometimes described as  “Three-three-three twotwotwo oneone”. Or “Twit twit twit-sweet sweet sweet-tew tew tew.”  I tried to draw one closer to me with some sharp chip sounds, but without luck. I have sometimes found Northern Waterthrushes to be quick to investigate intruders (like this rather blurry one in my only photograph of a waterthrush ), but not today; at least not that I could see.  I contented myself with knowing they were there, just like a Canada Warbler and a Veery, both heard singing but not seen.

The Veery was Bird of the Day despite staying out of sight, which was a bit of a shame because it is a subtle and graceful thrush, shy and quick to move away.  It has a warm rufous-chestnut back and head and an almost clear cream breast marked only by a hint of spots.  A Veery’s song can stop you in your tracks; you just have to listen;  it attracts descriptions like ethereal, flute-like, somewhat mournful, and downward spiraling. It’s a breathy exhaled “Viuw, Veeer vir v’r v’r  vr r” fading away into the forest.

May 25 2012.  They are such an elusive bird, and it’s such an event when you see one that most birders kind of gush with enthusiasm about seeing either of Yellow–billed and Black–billed Cuckoos. They are both late-spring migrants probably because their preferred food is caterpillars, both are tough birds to get a really good look at; they seem to move slowly and carefully out of sight behind any maddeningly thick fan of leaves.  Sometimes they’ll remain still for a long time, perhaps assessing or stalking a morsel of food, then just when you think it’s really not there at all, it flies quickly to another obscure tree-top hiding place.

Birders are more likely to hear their characteristic and strange songs, better described as vocalizations.  Pete Dunne in his excellent book cleverly describes the Yellow-billed Cuckoo’s vocalization as “… a low loud clucking that starts fast and insistent, and loses speed and interest at the end: Kluk luclucluclucluc luc luc k’lowp k’lowp k’lowp.”  And the Black-billed Cuckoo he says makes a “…slow k’awp k’awp k’awp that is similar to the Yellow-billed but faster, higher pitched, and less coarse.”  I admire his (or anyone’s) ability to transcribe bird vocalizations into word-ish forms.

Today at the bird observatory a strong south wind seemed to repress most bird life, although in the shelter of the creek valley there was plenty to listen to; mostly resident birds on territory. A Blue–winged Warbler was doing the rounds of its property calling its inhale-exhale “zzzzz- buzz” from hard-to-find perches.  Also Eastern Wood Peewees, Great–crested Flycatchers and Red–eyed Vireos were patrolling their treetops.  A Gray Catbird had me fooled for a while with its imitation of a Black-capped Chickadee, and the longer I listened to him the more I could pick up phrases from the songs of Robins and Blue Jays.  An unseen bird was calling softly from low in the forest, it’s repetitive call was  “pit sa,- pit sa “ and my conclusion was a probable Acadian Flycatcher.  But only probable because missing was the explosive and insistent tone that marks an Acadian Flycatcher. Oh well.

Bird of the Day was a Yellow–billed Cuckoothat was trapped in a mist net, removed, banded and sent on its way, it was a truly elegant bird, a long handful, subtly coloured in grey, light cream with a reddish tinge to its primary flight feathers;- and a yellow bill of course.

May 20 2012.  As a rule there are no Golden Pheasants in Ontario except perhaps in a petting zoo or wildfowl park; or so I thought.  But today was evidently made for breaking rules; now there’s one at Rondeau Provincial Park!.  I was up at dawn walking a quiet path at the south end of Rondeau, listening to the many warblers, peewees and thrushes when a Golden Pheasant wandered my way. It was in the middle of the path and walking straight towards me.  It was apparently oblivious to a whole host of incongruities: the absurdity of the moment, its exposure to any of a number of predators and the fact that it really should be in western China.  I’m sure I was more baffled by the pheasant than the pheasant was by me.  We passed and nodded a Good Morning to each other, and as I stood there looking back agape and scratching my head, the pheasant just kept walking; off to see about a cup of coffee or something like that I suppose.

Later I stopped at the park’s interpretive centre and tried to appear blasé when I asked about the pheasant.  I expected them to say something like: “Oh that! We see him around the picnic areas all the time.”  But they didn’t.  Instead they were flabbergasted, one of them turned and yelled for Steve, the park’s birding guru.  Steve appeared and shared their bemusement, then slowly started to retrieve a distant memory of someone losing a pheasant a couple of years ago.  Why anyone would bring a pheasant to Rondeau Provincial Park is beyond me, but stranger things happen.  If someone’s loss is the explanation, then this bird has survived for two years or more, mixing in with all the other local fauna, without a hope of finding a mate and just hanging around. Most odd.

Other than that it was a bird-rich day again with Canada, Magnolia and Tennessee Warblers passing through.  At a nearby marshy pond a mud flat was host to dozens of Ruddy Turnstones, Black–bellied Plovers and Dunlins.  I also watched and photographed this obliging Willow Flycatcher who was happily singing its trademark ‘Fitz-bew’ song.