Numbers thus far, 2013

I haven’t been regularly updating my sightings and numbers, so here’s an update. I got close to my informal goal of 200 NYS species last year so for 2013 I’m making an effort to pass that number. And I think I’ve got a good chance — my list so far is about 180 and climbing, with new life birds notably increasing at the rate of almost two a month. Chasing has been variably successful, like the Upland Sandpiper on a fencepost just where he was supposed to be, followed by a completely unexpected Clay-colored Sparrow. Club trips and leads on the listserv led me to Hooded Warblers and Cliff Sparrows.

HMBC’s area guide has sent me to unexplored corners of our counties and told me what to watch for when I’m just tooling around town. A true labor of love, Tom Williams’ Capital District Bird-finding Calendar compiles years of local observations into a timetable telling me who’s where and when.

Migration was funky this spring. General wisdom is that prevailing weather patterns sent birds westward, away from the coast. We also didn’t have good fallout weather, and the few drop-ins stayed only a day or so before they were off. It’s been a slow haul getting a good Warbler collection. And shorebirds? Fuggeddaboudit. Spotted, Solitary, the odd Yellowlegs — that’s it. I’ll have to study up on fall plumages and try to catch them on the way south.

I’ve done a lot of work on song recognition this year. It all comes down to attention — the difference in tempo between Red-eyed Vireo and Blue-headed‘s repetitious song is clear if I don’t dismiss it without really listening.

Weak points? ID. Still. Really, they’re not all Song Sparrows. And if a more experienced birder calls out a species I’m not familiar with, I need to remind myself to double-check its identity. Expectations can fool the best of us!

And no, I’m not going to inflict all 180-odd names on you. Here’s a look at the portable version.

Anybody up for chasing a Mississippi Kite? It’s just down the road a piece!

* indicates a life bird.

Wilson Powell Sanctuary, Old Chatham 4/30/13

Been here… been there… been to all the usual spots. Time to check the local field-trrip guide. Hmm, Wilson Powell Sanctuary isn’t too far away…

Some wrong turns and a twisty route through northern Columbia County later, I arrived at the sanctuary. It was still early spring and the trees had only begun leafing out. Wildflowers carpeted the forest floor.

Dutchman’s Breeches

Trout Lily

Bloodroot

Fern sp?

The trail starts rising gently to a steep slope on the edge of a ravine where I heard Northern Waterthrush, Ovenbirds, and my first Worm-eating Warbler. A pair of Broad-winged Hawks whistled overhead. At the top of the trail you take a left to find yourself on Dorson’s Rock, looking over the Hudson Valley to Green County.

Up to the Rock

Looking west

Looking west

A Raven flew so low I could hear it push the wind through its wings.

Back down near the parking lot, there’s a pond and marshy area. A Snapping Turtle had just hauled herself out of the winter’s mud and basked.

Don’t bother me. I just woke up.

It’s a nice place for a saunter.

37 species, one new life bird.

Playing catchup

So yeah, it’s raining.

Cohoes Flats, 6/13/13

It has been raining. It will continue to rain, probably, until November, when it will turn to snow.

But in between the raindrops, I’ve gotten in a bunch of birding trips! gone to new places! seen lifers! so the next bunch of posts will be blasts from the past months. After all, what else do I have to do now? The big migration push is over and every bird with a feathersweight of sense is huddling under leaf to stay dry.

I’ve been everywhere, man — Doodletown, Root, the Tug Hill plateau, Chaumont Barrens, Desolation Lake, near and far in NYS. I even did a spot of birding in Canada!

Ultrarare in PA

How do I know I’m not a completely bonkers birder? Because I’m not taking a 600-mile road trip to see this mega-rarity:

Bahama Woodstar. First report since 1981, and first ever seen out of south Florida. Just a gorgeous little thing.

I guess all the Big Year folk are rushing off and camping out in these kind peoples’ driveway waiting for the show. I wish them good luck and joy of their bird. Me? I’ll scrub out the feeder and boil up some sugar water. You never know!

 

 Photo from last summer, of course.

#101

Yard species #101 — Brown Thrasher checking out the cracked corn under a feeder.

As their family name Mimidae suggests, they, along with Gray Catbirds and Northern Mockingbirds, mimic other birds’ songs. You can tell them apart by song pattern: the Mockingbird repeats his borrowed phrases at least three times and to my ear is the most accurate imitator, while Catbirds sound like an entire flock of random birds and a cat are in the same thicket. Thoreau suggested the twice-repeated songs of the Thrasher sounded like advice to a farmer:  ”While you are planting the seed, he  cries — ‘Drop it, drop it — cover it up, cover it up — pull it up, pull it up, pull it up.’”

Night on Herp patrol

Late Wednesday night the temperature was in the high 40sF and a steady rain had fallen for several hours. Time for Herp Patrol! There are spots on our road that are wooded slopes on one side and vernal pools on the other, and on warm wet nights the Spotted Salamanders are on the move. They make the dangerous road crossing heading with intent for their breeding ponds. After spending several nights, they return to the leaf litter with the next rain.

We covered about a mile and moved four salamanders from the road. All were headed away from the water.

The pavement was crawling with fat worms and frogs were out for the feast. We shooed off numerous Leopard Frogs and sighed over the squashed ones. In the distance Spring Peepers chimed deafeningly.

You don’t often hear Wood frogs without Peeper accompaniment, so I recorded these quackers.

The final highlight of the evening was my year’s first Barred Owls hooting in the distance.

Spring at last!

You can tell it’s here by the stack of books next to my bed. Field guides, warbler ID books, bird call CDs, tales from other birders’ Big Years — I’m ready for waves of migrants.

Some people like to waste their spring mucking around in the dirt of their gardens. Me? I’ll let this energetic leaf-scratcher do my raking.

Fox Sparrow

(No, he wouldn’t come out from behind that post, even when I asked politely.)

The Fox Sparrows will rummage around under trees and in leaf piles for a week or so before heading off north, and that will be the last of them until they make a quick stopoff in the fall. I love their warm chipmunk color.

Fine Homebuilding

 

Last year I observed Black-capped Chickadees nesting in an old fence post. Today I had a chance to watch them at work excavating the hole.

They started with a rotten Sumac about 6″ in diameter, broken off a few feet from the ground. Nice punky wood in the middle. They had obviously been working at this for a while.

In for a landing –

 Dive!

 It’s a full bird deep!

 Aaaaand out, with a beakful of wood.

Repeat, taking turns, until the photographer gets too intrusive. They scolded me and after my retreat to the car, it was back to work.

Feather tales

I’ve been a lawbreaker. You probably have too. Every little kid who ever picked up a gull feather at the beach, every hiker with a blue jay plume in his hat — criminals all. With very few exceptions, it’s against the law to possess wild bird feathers. I knew that strictly it’s illegal to keep feathers but I hadn’t realized how stringent the law really is. Technically even game bird feathers can’t be picked up. You can only have them if you get them from a hunter!

That law was running through my mind when I found these feathers at Vischer Ferry in the fall. There seemed to be the full set of primaries and secondaries from the left wing of a large bird, possibly a raptor. So instead of bringing them home I photographed them in place, then checked a reference when I got home.  The Feather Atlas is a comprehensive archive of North American bird plumage. After some searching I decided they belonged to a Barred Owl. But how did a whole wing-worth of feathers get pulled out?

There were only torn-out feathers on the ground, no sign of blood or body parts. I wonder if the owl dropped onto its prey, and in a moment of distraction was caught by the wing by a fox or coyote who pulled out a mouthful of feathers, then carried off the bird.

A tuft of downy body feathers under my feeders tells another story, one of feral barn cats and of the danger of accepting a handout. These look like Common Redpoll to me.

I’ve seen a few Redpolls with swollen eyes and puffed-out plumage. I hope it was one of those sick ones the cat got. I’m considering renting a yappy and energetic terrier to scare the cats back to the barn.

Sandhills

It looks like our winter visitors, the pair of Sandhill Cranes, have finally moved on. They haven’t been seen in the usual spots for a few weeks, while reports from Vermont are cropping up now. They were a wonderful surprise while they lasted!

Some of my photos:

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If you’d like some really good images of the birds, check out these photo galleries by Ken Harper. Oh, for a good camera…