Wilson’s Phalarope

August 26, 2012. Cootes Paradise, Hamilton ON.  Dams and other devices at its downstream, east end artificially control the water level in Lake Ontario. So what’s good for shipping balanced in the context of rainfall, generally sets the tone for water levels from end to end.  One of my best birding spots this year has been a large expanses of mud flats at the extreme west end of the lake; the shorebirds love it there.  This morning I went out early to see what may be around on a small, just-emerging mud-bar, I found a vantage point with the sun at my back and was astonished at the numbers of birds out there.

Caspian Terns noisily dominated the area but dozens of Lesser Yellowlegs prowled around picking hungrily.  Some, like this one, came quite close to my shore and allowed close study.

Lesser Yellowlegs, up close and elegant

A careful sweep of the mudflat turned up a couple of Stilt Sandpipers, a Shortbilled Dowitcher, several Semi-palmated Sandpipers and best of all, indeed Bird of the Day, was a graceful Wilsons Phalarope.  This was a teachable moment self-taught.  It was too far off to photograph, but I was able to make some field notes including “pinkish/yellow legs, clear white under, small eyeline”.  There are three phalarope species: Wilson’s, Red, and Red-necked.  In their Arctic breeding plumage they’re quite distinctively different, but they soon molt back to their basic nine-months-of-the-year attire when, at a distance, they all look much alike.  The lesson learned today was the value of my written field observation of the pinkish/yellow legs. Oh, there are other determining and distinguishing details like extent and definition of the eye-line and darkness of the upper body, but good viewing conditions may make or break the reliability of these.  Leg colour is diagnostic for a Wilsons Phalarope.

Warbling Vireo

August 24, 2012.  Cootes Paradise, Hamilton, ON. Just a hot summer day today.  This morning on some nearby mudflats I made out a Black-bellied Plover, Greater & Lesser Yellowlegs, and a probable Shortbilled Dowitcher.  There were lots of Killdeer running around and a Semipalmated Plover or two as well. This particular marsh always seems to attract Great Egretsin late summer, and today I counted twelve.

A late summer gathering of Great Egrets. (A Hunching of Egrets ?)

They, and numerous Mute Swans, make bright white splotches everywhere, rendering the Great Blue Herons almost invisible by contrast.

This afternoon I volunteered help at a fish control experiment.  I watched an Osprey make three plunging attempts to catch a fish and on its last go it managed to seize a small wriggling perch.  Then a little later I was pleased to hear a Warbling Vireo singing tentatively in the nearby willows. It seems odd to hear bird song in the late summer / fall but it’s quite common, particularly among robins.  The song is never full-on, more hesitant and rarely complete.  Why should this be?

I have read that levels of testosterone increase in some songbirds in the autumn.  Elevated testosterone levels lead to the onset of breeding behaviour, including song.  But what prompts testosterone production, and why now?

Somewhere I think I read or heard that late summer /fall birdsong may be prompted by daylight length.  That makes sense in the spring.  We are now two months past the summer solstice so our daylight length is the same as two months before the summer solstice, or mid/late April, and the robins were certainly singing then; however the Warbling Vireos hadn’t even arrived.  I would appreciate anyone’s thoughts on this.

Anyway hearing the Warbling Vireo this afternoon was a wow moment, and it was my bird of the day.

Great-crested Flycatcher

August 22, 2012. Lowville, ON.  Changes in weather hinting at cooler days to come prompt our birds of summer to start heading south.  Arctic-nesting shorebirds began showing up around here in July and now the passerines (perching birds or, less accurately, songbirds) too are on the move.

Today I accepted an invitation to join a young birder in exploring his home turf to look for migrant warblers.  He’d seen 14 species a few days ago so he was optimistic and I was keen to learn more.  As it happened there were many fewer migrants evident today.  I explained to him that they seem to move in waves; you’ll get great days with lots of birds and then a lull until a change in the weather drops the next broad hint to get going.

I learned a useful lesson from him, to listen for vocal chickadees; where there’s chickadees there’s often other birds (warblers in this case). Over three hours we encountered 3 or 4 little microbursts of chickadees and warblers.  Our tally included Canada Warblers, American Redstarts , a beautifully close-up view of an Ovenbird, Black and White Warbler, Chestnut-sided Warbler and a Wilsons Warbler.  Added to that were a few Redeyed Vireos, an undetermined “Empidonax” flycatcher, Eastern Wood Peewee and, as my Bird of the Day, a close but briefly seen Great Crested Flycatcher.  The warblers were all great birds, challenging and rewarding, but somehow it was the Great Crested Flycatcher that was part way through it’s post breeding molt but still quite colourful, that made me exclaim Wow! For my young companion his BotD was the Ovenbird for the same equally good reason, it made him say wow!

Great-crested Flycatcher. Indignant but about to be released

Wilson’s Warbler

August 19 2012.  Bruce Trail, Walkers Line, Halton ON. I stumbled upon early signs of another chapter in the birds’ year today, the southbound, or fall, migration of warblers, vireos, flycatchers and the like.

I set out quite early to continue my study of fern species.  After a rather long, uphill and mostly unproductive search, I was returning along a well travelled hiking trail when I heard a familiar, rather liquid chip note coming from a small goldenrod and dogwood break in the forest.  I paused and tried a chip note of my own in return expecting a Common Yellowthroat to react.  To my surprise a young Canada Warbler popped up, and then another. And as I watched I realized there were many more small birds flitting around including: a Willow Flycatcher (probably, although it could have been a Least or Alder Flycatcher; they’re almost indistinguishable at this time of year) two or three young BayBreasted Warblers, a couple of Orangecrowned Warblers and best of all, a Wilsons Warbler.

Later while still looking for ferns at another site, I apparently offended a family of White-breasted Nuthatches who were soon reinforced by a very vocal Redbreasted Nuthatch and two Scarlet Tanagers.

It was a successful fern day in the end and the Wilsonss Warbler with its natty black cap carried the day.  They are one of those fleeting warbler species that we see in May, if we’re lucky, on its way to the alder and willow swamps of Hudson Bay lowlands.  It’s a privilege to see them at any time; and especially good today.

Footnote:  Wilson’s Warbler today, Wilson’s Snipe a couple of days ago. Wilson’s Phalarope on May 5th.  If I get to see and report on Wilson’s Petrel  and Wilson’s Plover we’ll have a complete set.

Wilson’s Snipe

August 16 2012.  Mountsberg ON.  If you’ve been following me closely over the past few days perhaps you’ve noticed some repetition in my birding.  It’s been all about shorebirds of late; I’m trying to learn more about them.

Shorebirds make many birders throw up their hands in despair:  “They all look the same.” and  “They’re so difficult to make out.” And it’s true, they are difficult.  But, like so many bird groups (and ferns and goldenrods too, I’m finding out) there’s really a rather limited palette of likely candidates at any one time.

Sometimes it’s the field guides that scare us off. The National Geographic Field Guide to the Birds of North America describes in detail about 80 species of what we might loosely call shorebirds. Eighty! But wait, around here only half of those shorebird species have ever been recorded; and of all of those I’d say you have a reasonable chance, if you work at it, of seeing about 15 in any one year.

It gets simpler as you study them because there are some distinctive family groups like plovers and sandpipers that help narrow the field.  After that you have to concentrate.  It’s not like reading People magazine, you do have to think for yourself.

Today for example, my companion and I found a mystery shorebird lurking at just about the limit of our aided vision.  At first we knew just one thing, that it was different.  It wasn’t a Greater or Lesser Yellowlegs and it wasn’t a duck or a Killdeer, there were plenty of those around.  We squinted and strained to make out detail, and we could see that it had an extraordinarily long bill; twice the length of its head.  It fed with a probing, sewing-machine action.  We wondered if it was a Short-billed Dowitcher, but it was not quite right.  As the bird moved around we started to make out some facial detail and distinctive stripes on its head and eventually, long lines down the length of its back. Wilson’s Snipe seemed most likely, our field guide supported our suspicions, and when it shuffled along with a snipe’s distinctive short-legged waddle, that clinched it.  Interestingly once we knew in our minds what it was, it all became crystal clear literally and metaphorically; there was no doubt. A great learning experience.

My companion studied and triumphantly identified a rather drab Hooded Merganser and it became her Bird of the Day, but for me it was the hard-won Wilsons Snipe.  Here’s a photo of one taken earlier this year.

Wilson’s Snipe