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Hendrie Valley, Burlington. ON. June 9 2023.   I had no idea that rain was in the forecast when I set out early this morning. It was cool, still and pleasant, although warm enough for blood-hungry mosquitoes. I was on a mission looking for evidence of breeding among the many bird species that thrive in the valley. Specifically, I wanted to upgrade levels of evidence of Mourning Warbler and Great-crested Flycatcher both of which are present here.  This work, if you can call it that, is part of my continuing contribution to the Ontario Breeding Bird Atlas (OBBA). For some background and to put this and future posts in context follow this link to a post from March 2021.

Even if sight of them was lost in the exuberant greenness of late spring, I was quite happy to be surrounded by the songs of many familiar birds: Red-eyed Vireos, Baltimore Orioles, Eastern Wood Peewees, Yellow Warblers and Swamp Sparrows.

Passing a newly built Beaver dam, I could hear the brief chattering song of a Mourning Warbler but it too was invisible lost in a thick tangle somewhere. I first heard what I assume is the same bird at this location on May 27^th so its presence today, two weeks later, counts as ‘Probable’ on the OBBA scale. I’d still like to see it because Mourning Warblers are very attractive creatures.

I kept walking, alert for anything but especially for Great-crested Flycatchers. I could hear them, they’re plentiful and active and I’m sure they nest here. Late last summer I encountered a family of them, parents and three or four capably flying young, but for OBBA, that doesn’t prove breeding here, they could have come from another square. Great-crested Flycatchers are cavity-nesters so although I probably won’t see one on or at its nest: an adult carrying nest material or food for young would be a big step forward.

The clouds were closing in a bit but not nearly enough to spoil the day. A singing Willow Flycatcher was a bit of a surprise and I watched a pair of Warbling Vireos interacting as if in courtship, one singing while the other watched attentively.

My Bird of the Day was this Red-bellied Woodpecker. I spotted it some distance away, and when it flew closer to me I could tell that it was a very young fledgling. It is plain grey, no red at all, that will come later this year. It was so young that you can still make out the yellow lips of its nestling gape. When it took flight, it looked uncertain of quite how and where to land, but once safe it probed tree bark enquiringly as its DNA instructed.   Food was at hand nevertheless, its dad was near and watching me closely, perhaps out of caution or possibly hoping I had handouts to share. I would guess this youngster left the nest for the first time yesterday or perhaps this morning.

A few spots of rain set me heading back home but not before I heard another Mourning Warbler. Good reason to go back, and I shall very soon.

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Westdale, Hamilton. ON. May 28 2023.   Attentive long-term readers will recall that I have a soft spot for birds in the vireo family.  At this end of Lake Ontario, we count five most years: Philadelphia and Blue-headed Vireos as transients moving to and from breeding grounds further north, and Yellow-throated, Red-eyed and Warbling Vireos as summer residents of deciduous woodlands. Vireos have a certain understated elegance but are really not much to look at.  To make up for it they have an air of swagger and self-reliance.

This morning I had a small group of new-birder friends with me, once again we were doing a transect hike. We were surrounded by bird activity, noisy too, everything from pairs of Canada Geese shepherding little squadrons of goslings to Red-winged Blackbirds busy at the serious job of reproduction. The bird song all around was challenging; within minutes I had noted Gray Catbirds, Yellow Warblers, Northern Cardinals, Song Sparrows, Warbling Vireos and American Robins, and that was just identified by sound but not necessarily seen. The list kept growing with contributions from my companions: Eastern Kingbirds, Common Grackles and Carolina Wren.   I could hardly keep up: listening, looking, scribbling, explaining and interpreting.

Then out of the blue came the hint of a Yellow-throated Vireo in the upper levels of some Red Oaks. Just a hint because Yellow-throated Vireo and Red-eyed Vireo have very similar songs, it could have been either and Red-eyes are much commoner; a visual i.d was needed. My companions had to humour me as I ignored the many challenges around us to focus single-mindedly on a  putative Yellow-throated Vireo. Well, in due course we connected the source of the sound with an individual bird. It obliged us by moving our way and eventually passing within a few metres of us and almost at eye level. It was a positive identification, the lemon yellow of its throat was plain to see but getting a decent photo proved impossible. The best I could do is in the photo below, look closely, it IS there, dead-centre.

It became an instant My Bird of the Day without regard for anything else the day might yet deliver, and there was plenty.  A charming Spotted Sandpiper, pairs of American Redstarts, Rose–breasted Grosbeaks and (it almost goes without saying) Red–eyed Vireos.  More Yellow Warblers and more Gray Catbirds, even another Yellow-throated Vireo. We ended the morning with a species count a little over 40; and that’s the way May birding goes.

Westdale, Hamilton. ON. May 22 2023.   Why is it that from a feast of drama-queen birds I manage to be captivated by one of the quietist and drabbest?  How come that on a transect walk, ringing with countless orange and black Baltimore Orioles and dozens of bright canary-yellow Yellow Warblers, how come the bird that made me think Wow! is a little Least Flycatcher?

To set the stage, understand that I was doing one of our routine transect hikes. I am part of a team of birders who walk defined routes many times a week, compiling lists and counts of all birds seen and heard. We’re gathering data for Canada’s Royal Botanical Gardens on whose land those routes lie.  Our hikes take us through varied natural habitats full of birds. Now late mid-May and many, perhaps most birds, are migrants who have spent the winter in warmer places and, as if to remind us of their tropical origins, many are raucous, bright and colourful.

This day was cool, not a cloud in the sky, but a buffeting easterly wind made it chilly at times. The wind noise was distracting. I had reached the half-way point in this circuit, a stretch of path where deciduous woodland lays against a municipal playing field. The breeze in the trees made it impossible to spot any conspicuous bird movement but a nearby male Indigo Bunting flew up to a tree top, hopped from spot to spot briefly, grudgingly allowing just me enough time for one photograph. In the bird of the header bar you’ll see the blue brilliance is still emerging from dull brown as his spring moult completes.

And then a small movement and an equally insignificant ‘chip’ note caught my attention. A small something chased another small something and both vanished into cover. Whatever it might be, it was worth watching and waiting for. In time a bird appeared, one of them anyway, it was a Least Flycatcher. That small chip note I’d heard was part of this species’ limited repertoire of a small ‘pwit’ or a bold, territory-claiming ‘ch-beck’. There is not much to write home about Least Flycatchers. But when you see one you usually get several minutes to enjoy it and although small and generally greyish-olive, they have an air of self-confidence, pugnaciousness almost. They are happy to be seen because, after all, presence is some confirmation of ownership, in this case of its little piece of woodland edge. Inexplicably that’s why he was My Bird of the Day.

(Footnote) My Bird of the Day site recently vanished for a week for vague “Server Error’ reasons. They were complex reasons, almost beyond my understanding. I think I was being punished for doing too much of something I don’t think I do at all.  It seems that once or twice a year I spend time grappling with technical terms, much of it in acronyms. Eventually I recover – but one of these days I’m going to throw in the towel. My Bird of the Day has been around for about ten years. It would be a shame to stop what is, in some ways, a personal diary. But really! Scripts, viruses, keyloggers, block widget editors etc etc. There will come a time. PT.

Westdale, Hamilton. ON. May 13 2023.   This morning I led a group of modestly experienced birders on a walk on what is arguably the best and busiest day of the year for new neo-tropical migrants, New World warblers in particular.

We followed a well-used loop of trails wandering first along a shoreline and then up through hardwood forest. There were almost too many birds and too much bird-song to sort through, certainly my note-taking couldn’t keep up.

Countless Baltimore Orioles, had arrived overnight, cleared customs and were now singing loudly to let everyone know. Yellow Warblers who’d beat them to it by a few days, were already on territory declaring their planned summer home in song: ‘Sweet-sweet shredded wheat’; and all around us in the treetops were Warbling Vireos ,one of my favourites birds of summer.  They sing all day, a long sweetly cascading song that I’ve heard described as: ‘If I sees you I will squeeze you and I’ll squeeze you til you hurt’, a little preposterous but accurate if taken with a pinch.

My companions lapped up the sights and sounds as we went along, I was equally intrigued by some less eye-and-ear-popping oddities, for example four Canvasbacks far out on the lake. To my mind they are ducks of winter or early spring and should have been long gone, west and much further north to breed. Checking local resources, I learned that while most have left by the end of April, each year one or two birds choose to remain.  There’s no end to the learning in this game.

Approaching a turning point in our walk I could hear a Rose-breasted Grosbeak singing, we located it with difficulty and my companions managed a fleeting glimpse of one our most striking birds, I know they were thrilled, but what they didn’t see, because it was there and gone in a flash was a Cape May Warbler; now I was thrilled.

Perhaps most arresting and definitely My Bird of the Day was a briefly glimpsed Magnolia Warbler. A male in brilliant breeding colour: black, white, slate grey and buttercup yellow. It made a brief full-frontal appearance and positively glowed against a dark leafy background. It was too quick for any of us to get an acceptable  photo, but this one from several years ago gives you the idea. Although I’d been thrilled by the Cape May Warbler I was now intoxicated by this Magnolia Warbler.