Magnolia Warbler, Setophaga magnolia
For a birder, nothing says “spring” quite like the arrival of colorful singing warblers. They are vividly colored, each with their own unique hues and patterns and loudly belted songs. Fall warblers are a different story! When I look at a fall warbler, I often feel like I am looking at something that looks so different from it’s spring counterpart. Yellow seems to be the fall color of choice, making so many fall warblers look similar to each other as they flit by. And, instead of singing, they are uttering little chips that all sound the same.
I have not been on the east coast to experience fall warblers in two years, and I was never very good at identifying them to begin with. I rolled out the door to do some fall migration birding and was overwhelmed by how much I felt like a beginning birder all over again. All the warblers looked impossibly the same. I was grateful to find some warblers, like the Black-and-white and Black-throated Green, that resembled their spring counterparts when they stood still long enough for me to get a good look at them. Northern Parulas look much more drab, but still resemble their spring counterparts. Eventually, I found myself looking at a warbler that I could just not recognize at all. It had a yellow belly, gray back, and a white eyering. “It’s a Magnolia Warbler!” my friend tells me.
I look at it incredulously. While many warblers are named after their color patterns, the Magnolia Warbler’s name is less of an identifier and more of a coincidence. Ornithologist Alexander Wilson just happened to spot his first one in a Mangolia Tree during spring migration, although really these birds are more associated with coniferous trees during their breeding season. Nonetheless, without its iconic thick black mask, black back, and black-striped chest, I have trouble buying that the bird I am looking at is a Magnolia Warbler. It looks like a totally different bird. Eventually I find the relics of its spring plumage: the thin streaks in its yellow chest, the gray head and body, the white eyering. I admittedly feel a little disappointed- it feels so bland in comparison to the spring male.
Fall Magnolia Warbler in (unfortunately invasive) porcelain berry.
After a few moments of watching it, though, I realize I find the white eyering in the gray face against its pink beak endearing. The combination gives the warbler an expression that feels excited, surprised, slightly confused-perhaps all three at once. I think that is how I would feel if I started every day in a new place on traveling thousands of miles! Without the sharp contrasts created by its black feathers, the bird feels softer and smoother overall. The gray is now the darkest color without the striking black, and I can appreciate the subtle steel-blue grays in the feathers that I never have before. I love the juxtaposition of that steel-blue color against the lemon yellow. I cannot help myself, I blurt out “this bird is ADORABLE.”
Male Magnolia Warbler in spring
By the time the Magnolia Warbler flits away, I am smitten. I wish it well on its epic journey. Over the next few weeks, this tiny bird will fly over the Gulf of Mexico and beyond to Mexico, Central America, the West Indies, and the Yucatan Peninsula. This 3,000-plus mile journey will then be repeated in the spring, when the Magnolia Warblers will return. This time, when I see the male with the black mask, I am going to remember the adorable bird from the fall and reconcile the two as a single species.