Bird of the Week: Northern Saw-whet Owl

Northern Saw-whet Owl, Aegolius acadicus

Tiny but mighty! Northern Saw-whet Owls are as adorable as they are fierce. At only eight inches in height, they are some of the smallest owls in North America- about the size of a common American Robin. Their small size, cat-like eyes, and fluffy legs make them seem so endearing. But these owls are still fierce. They love small mammals, and will eat tons and tons of mice, meadow voles, and shrews amongst other critters. Like most owls, they have exceptional hearing and low light vision- small mammals beware. As a matter of fact, their hearing is so astute that they can hunt in pitch darkness by sound alone.

I have always wanted to see a saw-whet owl. I have heard them many times on Christmas Bird Counts, their too-too-too hooting calls filling the early morning darkness during the owling portions of the day. But something so cute just has to be looked at as well as heard. But how is one supposed to find a bird that is so tiny and camouflages so spectacularly and barely moves during daylight hours? I have heard plenty of stories of people just walking into these birds at eye level purely by luck. But after eight years of looking, my luck had not yet found me one of these owl cuties.

Last weekend, finally, my luck changed! Unbeknownst to me, it turns out that Northern Saw-whet Owls migrate across the Great Lakes. And, on my drive from Wisconsin to New York, I was also migrating across the Great Lakes. I have to admit that I have never really thought about owls migrating before. Saw-whet Owl migration is actually a mystery still being unraveled. To help learn more about the migration patterns of these small owls, Project Owlnet was begun in 1990 as a Saw-whet Owl banding collaboration that now includes over 100 banding sites. Luckily for me, even without any knowledge of their migration patterns, I managed to find myself looking up into a tree near Lake Superior and there, a tiny tufted knob on the tree, was an adorable Saw-whet Owl!

To learn more about Project Owlnet and the fascinating work they have been doing, check out this link here.

Bird of the Week: Bay-breasted Warbler

Bay-breasted Warbler, Setophaga castanea

My first ever Bay-breasted Warbler at Peach Hill, Poughkeepsie, NY

With their navy blue masks, rusty red throats and caps, and peachy creme flanks, Bay-breasted Warblers are uniquely colored amongst the rest of the eastern wood-warblers. I love watching them among the flowers, as their color palette contrasts wonderfully with the lighter pastel colors of spring.

To me, Bay-breasted Warblers feel like one of the harder warbler species to find. I missed them completely the first year I was birding, and I always feel like it is a big deal when I do see one. They tend to arrive in the later waves of warblers, and are an uncommon bird.

Perhaps one of the reasons it feels harder to find Bay-breasted Warblers during migration is that their populations tend to be dependent on the abundance of spruce budworms. These warblers love the pupae and larvae of these insects. When there is an abundance of spruce budworms, the population of Bay-breasted Warblers increases alongside them. They are smart about their budworm foraging, and will feed in middle levels of trees as well as higher levels to avoid competing with other spruce budworm feeders such as Cape May Warblers. They can be aggressive though, and will attack Blackburnian Warblers if they are both feeding in the tops of trees.

Even though populations of Bay-breasted Warbler are currently more or less stable, it is difficult to keep an accurate tab on them because of their remote breeding locations. Moreover, habitat loss from deforestation and pesticide use on their wintering grounds in the tropics as well as boreal habitat loss due to climate change and deforestation suggests that this bird is in trouble, even if numbers do not show it yet.

Bay-breasted Warbler at Magee Marsh during the Biggest Week in American Birding 2019.

Bird of the Week: Pine Warbler

Pine Warbler, Setophaga pinus

My first ever Pine Warbler! Tivoli Bays, NY in 2013

As spring migration unfolds in eastern North America, the first flashes of yellow are often from Pine Warblers. They are one of the first warblers to return and fill the trees with their songs. Pine Warblers are well-named: they sing from the tops of pine trees, forage in pine trees, and go on to build their nests in pine trees. The very first warbler I ever found as a beginning birder was a Pine Warbler on April 15, 2013. I was blown away that a living thing could be such a bright yellow!

Pine Warblers come to feeders! Makes for great photo ops.

Like other warblers, Pine Warblers are brightly colored, but other markings are more subtle. They have smudges on their chests and very slight light-yellow spectacles. Unlike Yellow warblers, they have black wings with white wingbars and a white undertail. In places where they overlap with Chipping Sparrows and Dark-eyed Juncos, it can be hard to tell the songs of these three birds apart. All three are a repetitive, trilling song that can sound superficially similar. The thing that helps me tell the three apart is the location of the song- if it is high up in a pine tree, chances are, it is a Pine Warbler.

Pine Warblers generally eat insects. However, to my surprise, I recently discovered that Pine Warblers will come to feeders to eat seeds. They stand out sharply from the chickadees, sparrows, and other familiar faces at the feeder. It was helpful to be able to watch both the male and female at the feeder, as the female is much duller and harder to recognize than the male.

It’s always sad to say goodbye to the Pine Warblers as they continue on their way, but so many more warblers will follow that they do not leave a void for long!

Bird of the Week: Greater Prairie-chicken

Greater Prairie-chicken, Tympanuchus cupido

Every spring, an incredible battle royale occurs. Male Greater Prairie-chickens gather at their booming grounds, ready to prove that they are hot stuff. They will flip up their neck feathers, inflate their air sacs, and snap their tails. It is an amazing sight to behold- and last Sunday I got to observe it in person!

Greater Prairie-chickens are unfortunately a species on the decline. In fact, they almost went extinct in the 1930s. While they numbered in the millions before this, their prairie habitat was quickly swallowed by westward expansion and the claiming of prairie land for agriculture. Their population in North America is now reduced to pockets of birds on managed prairie land, and a few select agricultural spaces. Central Wisconsin is home to about 600 birds (down from 55,000.) The Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources manages about 30,000 acres of land to help preserve these last chickens. I knew I had to take the chance to try to see one while I was in the state. So, I looked up the chickens on EBird, discovered a lek site 2 hours from me, and laid out plans tot stake them out.

Waking up at 3:30 AM was rough, but it was getting towards the end of the lekking season and I knew if I did not go then, I may miss my chance to find them. Aside from the breeding season when the birds are actively displaying, these chickens are incredibly hard to find. I should know- last August my friend and I spent hours scouring fields for the birds, with zero luck.

So two and a half hours of driving later, the sun was up and my partner and I had arrived at the road in the George W Mead State Wildlife Management Area that supposedly hosted a Prairie-chicken lek. It looked wildly unassuming- both sides of the road were lined with tilled fields. It was hard to imagine a bird so linked to prairies in a place like this. We examined the photos attached to the EBird report, and managed to triangulate the barns and trees in the photos to get to the exact spot the birds must have been observed. I felt like a bona fide detective. We got out scopes and started looking, hoping, wishing. Then, like magic, there one was! It was so far out in the field it looked like a muddy lump without the scope. But the magic of good optics turned it into a true chicken. To our delight, more chickens materialized. By the time we had gotten to a better position, we were able to watch one of the great spectacles of nature as six Prairie-chickens boomed and battled on their lek. We could see their air sacs expand and hear their ghostly bubbly calls. True magic.

One of the chickens flew away from the lek and towards us as the booming was winding down. I was so happy to get a picture, even if it is incredibly grainy!

Greater Prairie-chickens are unusual-looking birds. I think it is so cool the way their neck feathers pop up to look like ears while displaying. And, of course, their air sacs are wild. These sacs are called “gular sacs,” and are technically throat membranes that they can fill with air. Frigatebirds have the same adaptation.

What an outfit! This pic was taken from the Greater Prairie-chicken Festival Facebook page. Check it out!

It is painful to think that this tiny lek used to be so much bigger, that there used to be so many more leks right around here. Greater Prairie-chickens are well adapted to environmental pressures, but increased heavy rains and unexpected draughts are causing pressure on their offspring. And of course, humans continue to take their habitat. There is a Greater Prairie-chicken festival that occurs every April in Central Wisconsin to increase awareness and appreciation for these incredible birds. I only just learned about it while doing the research for this blog post, but I definitely want to go next year. Sneak preview - there is a person who dresses up in a Greater Prairie-chicken outfit!

Check out the George W. Mead Wildlife Area! Not only did we find the prairie-chickens, we also found a Yellow-rumped Warbler fallout, tons of ducks, and at least fifty Trumpeter Swans. Such a fantastic birding day!

Bird of the Week: American Woodcock

American Woodcock, Scolopax minor

“Peent! peent!” There is nothing quite like the sound of the American Woodcock as it returns to fields and wet meadows in springtime. To attract a mate, this goofy bird puts on an amazing combination of suave, nasaly “peenting” (a sound that you must look up right now if you have never heard it before) and dynamic aerial flight displays at twilight. Some moments the bird is an aerodynamic master, the next it is a potato with googly eyes and a chopstick nose. Truly, the height of romance.

An American Woodcock that posed at the Magee Marsh boardwalk, Ohio, in 2018.

Without being told otherwise, one could easily go through life not knowing of this bird’s existence. Its feather patterns hide it perfectly within its preferred habitat, and it is silent throughout the day. I will never forget the day I walked into my nature writing class at Bard and the professor started explaining woodcocks to us, as they were arriving imminently from migration. The explanation included a “peent” imitation, and I knew immediately that a) this had to be one of the coolest animals on the planet b) this was going to be an amazing class. Fast forward a year later, and I had convinced that same professor to take me out looking for American Woodcocks. We walked up and down a quiet road opposite an old horse pasture as the sun set. I was waiting with baited breath, desperately hoping to find these oddballs. Silence, silence, silence. And then, the most beautiful hysterical sound in the world: PEEEEEEEENT! I was as much in love with a potato with googly eyes and a chopstick beak as one could be.

While not performing their smash hit concerts, American Woodcocks pass the time using their long beaks to probe the soil for earthworms. Even then they are showing off, as they will move in a back-and-forth rocking motion that makes them look as though they are dancing! Aside from providing incredible video footage for YouTube, this rocking motion may disturb the earthworms beneath the soil and cause them to give away their location. Extra woodcock fun facts: despite its preference for fields and wet meadows, this bird is a shorebird. On top of that, its long beak is actually flexible at the tip!

To finish off this exaltation of the woodcock, I must insist that you watch the following YouTube videos, as they are true works of art that really capture the spirit of this hilarious bird. PS: as if it couldn’t get any better, the nickname for this bird is “Timberdoodle!”

Bird of the Week: Long-tailed Tit

Long-tailed Tit, Aegithalos caudatus

I’ve seen so many memes featuring this bird!

If you put wings, a tail, and a face on a pom-pom, you would get a Long-tailed Tit. These tiny birds are found throughout Europe and the Palearctic, but are also found across social media memes and viral photos because of their adorable features. Just look at that face - you don’t have to be a birder to squeal at how cute it is!

The Long -tailed Tit in this meme looks different from the one I painted this week. This is because there are three different groups, each residing in a different geographic region and displaying different color patterns. The little puffball in the meme with the pure white head, Aegithalos caudatus caudatus, is found in northern Europe and Asia. In Hokkaido- Japan’s second largest island - these white-headed birds are called “Shima enaga.” They are such popular little birds that you can find little Long-tailed Tits as keychains, little stuffed animals, and even cable keepers!

When I was in Asia, I wanted to see a Long-tailed Tit so badly! Fortunately, they can be found year-round, and are fairly common birds. Although I spent most of my time in Japan in Tokyo, Erin and I spent a day exploring the forest around Mount Takao-san. We were delighted when an entire flock of these little pompoms flew into the trees above our heads!

I was at first confused when the Long-tailed Tits above us had charcoal strips above their eyes. What happened to the cottonballs? But we soon figured out the situation - we were looking at Aegithalos caudatus europaeus subspecies- and thoroughly enjoyed watching the cute little birds.

Long-tailed Tits are very social birds. Outside of the breeding system, they form flocks of up to seventeen birds that help keep each other warm while roosting during the cold winters. During the breeding season, if a pair of birds loses their eggs, they will help other birds to raise their chicks successfully instead of starting a new nest. These helper birds can make all of the difference in another nest’s survival, as they help bring food to the young chicks and protect them from predation.

In other parts of the world, Long-tailed Tits have some fantastic nicknames. In particular, the English have dozens of endearing nicknames. So let’s end this blog post by enjoying some of the best of these Long-tailed Tit nicknames: Raggamuffin, Mumruffin, and Bumbarrel!

Happy New Year: Common Redpoll and Hoary Redpoll

Common Redpoll, Acanthis flammea

FINALLY, after years of waiting, Common Redpolls are irrupting! I missed them when they were in the Hudson Valley in 2015 and have regretted it ever since. I have always thought of them as adorable little fluffballs-like chickadees but with flashy red caps- and I have wanted to paint them so badly!

In my final days as a hawkwatcher at Greenwich Audubon, I arrived at my post early in the morning to see a single small bird in a catkin far out in the field. I could hear a birdcall I did not recognize. When my scope revealed an unmistakable red cap, I nearly jumped in the air with glee as I abandoned hawks for the moment and raced to get closer. Unfortunately, it flew away before I could get close. Still, I was elated-if there were redpolls in Connecticut, then I knew without a doubt I would find more when I traveled north to the the midwest after hawkwatching ended.

My assumption was correct. While quarantining in Michigan, my girlfriend and I visited a wastewater treatment facility with a CLOUD of redpolls. There were hundreds of them! They would feed on the grasses by the side of the road before taking off as a group and resettling at another spot. When they turned so that they were head on, the flashes of red were like fireworks.

To my delight, within the cloud of Common Redpolls was an individual that caught my eye. It was a cement white color, with a stubby bill and almost no streaking. Unlike Common Redpolls, this Hoary Redpoll had a small red patch on its head. I had been worried about being able to pick out a Hoary Redpoll from amongst Commons- they are so similar that the two species may very well be lumped someday- but this particular Hoary Redpoll displayed all of the textbook differences. I love its coloration, the white color suggests that the Hoary Redpoll is a Common Redpoll that got covered in frost.

Hoary Redpoll, Acanthis hornemanni

Both the Common and the Hoary Redpoll are well-named. “Redpoll” refers to the adorable red cap that these birds wear (just like the black cap of the Blackpoll Warbler!). The Hoary Redpoll adds hoary to its name to refer to that wonderful frost color. I love these two winter visitors. Between their fabulous names, their adorable demeanor, and their fleetingness, I feel as though they arrive to bring joy. In China, red is considered a color of luck, joy, and happiness. As 2021 heads underway (and the Chinese New Year is about to arrive) I hope that these little red birds bring all those who see them luck, joy and light after a year of darkness.

Raptor Roundup: Sharp-shinned Hawk and Cooper's Hawk

Cooper’s Hawk, Accipiter cooperii

Sharp-shinned Hawk, Accipiter striatus

Of all the raptors I most dreaded having to identify, none were more stressful than the Sharp-shinned Hawk/Cooper’s Hawk pairing. Many of my birder friends have told me repeatedly the ways to differentiate the two in flight, but without immediately applying this information to real-live birds it would soon fall out of my head. As an artist, I learned almost all my birds by memorizing field marks and body shape- behavioral identifiers tend to come second for me. But boy oh boy is behavior a wonderful thing for identifying Sharpies and Cooper’s!

Juvenile Sharp-shinned Hawk just after taking off from a snag. Notice the length of the streaking on its chest.

Juvenile Cooper’s Hawk. Notice the streaking on the chest, as well as the curved tail.

Fortunately for me, Sharp-shinned Hawks and Cooper’s Hawks started migrating through Connecticut in steady streams by the end of September. Once there were plenty of birds to watch, I discovered my friends were right: it is pretty straightforward to tell the difference between the two birds based solely on behavior. The more compact Sharp-shinned Hawk does a great “flappity flap-flap” as it flies, with rapid wingbeats in succession before a glide. The larger, longer-winged Cooper’s Hawk has slower, more shallow wingbeats. This is now one of my favorite ways to identify hawks, because I love the sweet satisfaction of identifying a distant speck of a raptor doing a quick wing flap as a solid Sharp-shinned Hawk!

I also discovered that the two accipiters really do have different body shapes. The Sharp-shinned Hawk is more compact and has smaller wings; it resembles a t-shape in flight. The Cooper’s Hawk has a head that is much larger; it looks more like a cross in flight because you can actually see the head extend past the wings. Between the body shape and the wing flaps, I found that it actually becomes very straightforward to tell the two apart.

Even though it is really satisfying to be able to identify them from afar, it is always amazing to get to see these hawks up close. Sharp-shinned Hawks and Cooper’s Hawks have beautiful patterning as both adults and juveniles. The adults of both species have subtle navy heads and backs, orange barring across the chest, and blood-red eyes; the juveniles have orange rusty streaking across their bodies and sharp yellow eyes. At the Quaker Ridge Hawk Watch, we deploy a plastic owl decoy atop a dogwood tree just off of the hawk watch lawn to try to convince smaller hawks to come closer for a better view. It works really well at attracting these accipiters, and a few times a week I would have the chance to see them in beautiful detail as they soared right overhead!

Adult Sharp-shinned Hawk diving at our plastic owl

Juvenile Sharp-shinned Hawk diving at our plastic owl

Now that it is late November, the accipiters have mostly finished migrating through. There are of course a few stragglers, but it is strange to go a whole day without seeing a single one after they were so commonplace. Fortunately for me (but not so much for the little birds at the feeder), a juvenile Sharp-shinned Hawk and a juvenile Cooper’s Hawk appear to have moved into the property. I see them exploding out of the bushes and sprinting across the treelines hunting. Just this week, I was standing beneath our kiosk trying to avoid getting wet in the rain and the Cooper’s Hawk flew in as if from nowhere and landed on the fence outside the lawn. Its appearance was so sudden and so silent that I actually jumped back in surprise. We stared at each other for a split second before it barreled off into the grasses, leaving me feeling sorry for the tiny critters that might not fare as well from such an unexpected encounter!

Bird of the Day: Common Cuckoo

Common Cuckoo, Cuculus canorus

What a season it has been for rarities! Last Sunday, an insanely rare (and lost) Common Cuckoo was discovered in Snake Den State Park near Providence, Rhode Island. To give a sense of how lost this bird is, consider that the Common Cuckoo comes from Eurasia- making it about 3,000 miles from home if home were Ireland. If it came from China, it would be 11,000 miles lost! Since Common Cuckoos migrate to Africa for the winter, it is likely that this bird was caught in one of the crazy weather systems that have been occurring and was blown off course during migration.

On Monday morning, after learning that the bird had stayed put over night, I jumped in the car and drove the 2.5 hours to Rhode Island. It felt a little indulgent, but this is only the third record of Common Cuckoo in the lower 48 and it is such a beautiful bird. I really wanted to see it!

When I finally turned onto the residential backroad outside the state park, I knew immediately that I had arrived. It was like a scene from out of “The Big Year.” The two-lane road could barely fit two lanes of traffic to begin with, and was now packed on one side with at least fifty cars. I added my car to the parked parade while trying to calculate the value of the optics and camera gear all trained on the wooded edge beyond a small field. There were somewhere between fifty and seventy-five people socially all lined up behind a rock wall separating the road from the field, all more or less socially distanced and wearing masks. I recognized a number of people- it’s amazing how the Connecticut birders all get around to all of the rare birds!

When I finally started to look for the bird, I at first could not see it. I assumed it was somewhere in the woods, and we would need to wait for it to fly back out before I could see it. My assumption turned out to be wrong, as someone quickly pointed out the bird to me and I realized that it was so camouflaged it could sit right out on a tree and I could miss it!

Wooly Bear

To my delight, the Common Cuckoo did not stay sitting still for long. It flew down into the field below it, opened its mouth wide to reveal its adorable pink gape, and chomped down a wooly bear caterpillar. Common Cuckoos are unusual in that they actually really like hairy caterpillars while many other birds do not. I found it amazing that even on another continent, this cuckoo had managed to find its preferred food source (in November nonetheless!) After eating, it flew up to another branch- but this time it flew right at the crowd, landing about fifteen feet from the road. I could not believe my timing!

The Common Cuckoo really was beautiful. Its monochromatic striped chest was offeset by a soft brown back and head interspersed with light gray mottling. The best part was the sharp yellow eye that stood out against all the gray and brown tones. I felt bad for it as it was buffeted by the strong wind and the cold.

Coming in for a landing!

It felt really strange to see this bird against a New England fall backdrop. My grandma would tell me stories of growing up in Ireland and hearing the cuckoo calling in the evening. (That call, by the way, is the sound one hears in old antique cuckoo clocks.) As a result, I have always imagined the Common Cuckoo in a landscape of old Irish farmland. Back in Eurasia. the Common Cuckoo is indeed that- common. It has been a cultural symbol of spring and fall, with many rhymes and local traditions based upon this. Have you ever heard the song, “April, Come she Will” by Simon and Garfunkel? Turns out that those lyrics are based on an old rhyme about the Common Cuckoo! (Mind blown!)

The cuckoo comes in April
She sings her song in May
In June she changes her tune
In July she prepares to fly
In August go she must.

While no one was talking about it while gazing in adoration at this amazing rarity, Common Cuckoos are like our Brown-headed Cowbirds. They are brood parasites that lay their eggs in the nests of other birds so that their young are raised by the unsuspecting parents of the invaded nests. Brood parasites tend to get a bad rap, so it was nice that this poor lost bird could just be a heroic survivor today.

I have to say, it was definitely worth the drive to see this bird. I know many people are going to see it from even further away, but considering travel abroad is so terrible right now it feels like this is the easiest way to see this beautiful creature. It is still around after a week, and so long as it has a supply of caterpillars who knows how long it will stay! (Unless of course, go it must.)

Bird of the Day: Tennessee Warbler

Tennessee Warbler, Leiothlypis peregrina

When one thinks of warblers, one of the things that most often comes to mind is color. So to me, the Tennessee Warbler always seems to feel a little left out from the rest of the warblers. With a grayish head, white undertail coverts, and olive-yellow-green all over the rest of its body, the Tennessee Warbler can appear very drab compared to the bright yellows, oranges, blues, and greens of other warblers. I have to admit that in the rush of searching for Blackburnians, Black-throated Blues, and other brightly colored birds I often forget to look for Tennessees! So this fall, I was surprised to see a beautiful green-yellow warbler with a striking eyeline bounce out of the goldenrod. At first, it felt like I was looking at a Red-eyed Vireo- but something about it was off. When I finally realized it was a Tennessee, I could barely remember the last time I had seen one! It seemed so much more colorful than the last time I had seen one in spring.

Tennessee Warbler having a chat with a Yellow-rumoed Warbler!

Tennessee Warblers, despite their name, do not breed in the state of Tennessee. Their closest breeding grounds are actually in Michigan. Like most warblers, they pass through the eastern United States during spring and fall migration. For whatever reason, this year there were dozens of them at Greenwich Audubon. I have now seen more Tennessee Warblers in four weeks than I have in eight years of birding combined. On many days during late September and early October, there were five to seven Tennessee Warblers in the goldenrod. On one magical day, a fallout brought about 25 of them to the grounds. Since they usually spend their time high in trees, it was great to be able to see them so closely in the goldenrod.

By now, most if not all of the Tennessee Warblers have moved on from the northeast to finish their journey to Central and South America. When they get there, they will add nectar to their food repertoire. They eat this nectar in a way that is unusual: instead of getting it from the open part of a flower, they pierce the flower tube at the base and thus do not actually help in the pollination process.

A Tennessee Warbler and an American Goldfinch enjoying the same plant!

Next spring, I am going to make a concerted effort to see more of these sleek warblers!