Baird’s Sandpiper

August 31st. 2017. Presqu’ile Provincial Park, Brighton, ON. This is a dip back into my archives to a story written three and a bit moths ago but which was set aside for one reason or another.

Presqu’ile Provincial Park on the shore of Lake Ontario

It’s a long drive east to Presqu’ile Provincial Park, but the park is a bit legendary among birders, the day was open to ideas and I’d heard that there were some good shorebirds there. Too far to go chasing birds in the normal run of things but the idea just popped into my head, so I went.

Entering the park, paying the admission fee and accepting a handful of park-users’ information I was directed to the birders’ beach. Well, now there’s a nice idea, to think that some beaches could be Frisbee-free. It turned out that the birders’ beach wouldn’t have held much appeal to normal people anyway. The waters of Lake Ontario had inundated it through the spring and early summer and its sands were still soggy, offensively smelly and alive with flies and other invertebrates; conditions more appealing to shorebirds than sun worshipers.

As far as shorebirds go it was rather unexciting, a couple of flocks of Semipalmated and Least Sandpipers skittered at the water’s edge. Every now and then they’d take off as if in panic, head out over the lake but quickly circle back to the beach a hundred meters along from where they’d started. It was a good opportunity to study and compare the two very much alike species but well, hardly worth the long drive.

Things looked up when I noticed a small group of new birds arrive, somehow a bit different, perhaps a bit larger, or maybe it was just the way they flew. I found them again later among shoreline-feeding Semipalmated Sandpipers, very similar but yes, a little larger and subtly different. My mind worked over the options and isolated Baird’s Sandpipers as most likely.

Distinguishing between lookalikes can be very challenging and if done incorrectly can be career-ending. Think of the poor souls who sailed back to Europe with a ship loaded with supposed gold which turned out to be chalcopyrite. (Superficially they look alike but an experienced field geologist told me the geologists’ maxim is, if you think it’s gold – it’s not!) Practice and experience will never go out of style.

Baird’s Sandpipers are a generally more western species and while most adults migrate south down the middle of the continent the young of the year are less disciplined and a few show up around Lake Ontario at this time of year, although they’re still not common.

I left Presqu’ile satisfied that I’d finally seen the place and understood its attraction, happy to have picked out the Baird’s Sandpipers among Semipalmated Sandpipers, Lesser Yellowlegs, Semipalmated Plovers and not much else. Baird’s Sandpiper, here’s one– Bird of the Day.

Nashville Warbler

December 6th. 2017 Sedgewick Forest Park, Oakville, ON. I’ve scarcely touched my binoculars in a month, not since we wrapped up two months of bird population transects that started in with Chimney Swifts and ended with Fox Sparrows. Today with a north-west wind blowing cold and hard a young birder friend reported watching a wind-tossed Golden Eagle circling high overhead. Late fall cold fronts are legendary for Golden Eagles, and while he may nurture some lingering doubts I’m happy to believe that’s what he saw.

Meanwhile on a more mundane birding front, and perhaps inspired by my friend to get out, I visited one of this area’s most celebrated sewage treatment facilities. Such places are not everyone’s cup of tea I know, but birds like them for the nourishing insect life to be found thereabouts. Every late fall and early winter this place holds a few oddities, last year for example I wrote “ American Robins all clucking and squawking … many Yellow-rumped Warblers and Ruby-crowned Kinglets; an Eastern Phoebe and …Probably the drabbest warbler we ever encounter, an Orange-crowned Warbler and arguably the most beautiful a Northern Parula.

On arrival today I could hear a Winter Wren purring to itself somewhere low and gloomy, and see and hear small groups of American Robins, House Finches and American Goldfinches. A couple of warmly-dressed birders were prowling around, pointing and staring at a tangle of old grapes and blackberry, but I was under-dressed so stayed just long enough to see two or three Yellowrumped Warblers, a pair of Northern Cardinals, a bashful Hermit Thrush and, Bird of the Day, a glowing Nashville Warbler. The place wasn’t devoid of colour, after all House Finches show some crimson-red and Yellow Rumped Warblers have butter-yellow rumps (as you might expect). But this little Nashville Warbler with its yellowy-orange throat and breast seemed to radiate light from within the woody tangle.

Nashville Warbler. 14 Oct 2015

Here’s a Nashville Warbler, just as engaging, but photographed at another, greener time of year.

Great Black-backed Gull

October 29th. 2017. LaSalle Park, Burlington, ON. Whenever I keep field notes of birds seen, usually for our transect work, I habitually list the passerines on the left side of the page and non-passerines on the right. (Passerines are often thought of as songbirds, but are officially defined as birds distinguished from other orders of Aves by the arrangement of their toes, three pointing forward and one back, which facilitates perching.) I mention this because almost always, passerine species far outnumber non-passerines; today it was the other way around, literally a sign of the times.

The great autumnal purge of song birds is almost complete and things must be getting hostile to the north of us because large flotillas of migrant ducks are appearing on our lakes and waterways. Along the pathway that defines one of our transect routes I spotted a convoy of ten Common Mergansers, followed later by three Redbreasted Mergansers and much later one Hooded Merganser. There were Northern Shovelers, Gadwall, Mallards, Mute Swans and Greenwinged Teal too; only Mallards are year round residents here.

On the way home I made a stop at a couple of parks along the shore of our large harbour and scanned a bobbing raft of Redheads, Gadwall and Lesser Scaup, I looked for Tundra Swans and Canvasbacks but saw neither, late October is when they start to appear.

Great Black-backed Gull

But the bird that stood out, the bird that met my Bird of the Day test by prompting a wow response in me, was a solitary Great Blackbacked Gull. They’re not rare, not common either, but wherever and whenever they occur they have presence; perhaps as the world’s largest gull species they could hardly fail. I think most gulls are omnivorous and opportunistic feeders, anything goes, but Great Black-backed Gulls are rapaciously omnivorous and opportunistic. This photo below was taken three of four years ago in a time of deep cold and the young Great Black-backed Gull, drifting along on a plate of ice, had either preyed upon a seriously weakened duck or scavenged a corpse. That’s the sort of thing they go in for, I’d advise against showing signs of weakness when Great Black-backed Gulls are at hand.

With reference to my comments in my previous post about the difficulty of photographing a Golden-crowned Kinglet, well I came close to success today with this one.

Golden-crowned Kinglet

Fox Sparrows

October 27th. 2017. RBG Hendrie Valley, Burlington, ON. I have been anticipating the appearance of Fox Sparrows for a week or so and today I was rewarded with the sight of two of them. They popped up from somewhere deep in a thicket of Red Osier Dogwoods, surveyed me disapprovingly for half a minute and then left. Just the sight of them, the fulfillment of an expectation, made them Birds of the Day in a day full of interesting stuff.

Fox Sparrows pass through in spring and fall on their way to and from winter spent in the central southern U.S and summer in subarctic Alaska to Labrador. In spring we look for them picking through spilled seed around bird-feeders where they sometimes take a few minutes off to try out their melodious yet somehow secretive song. Spring or fall it’s their sturdy angular build and rich foxy red plumage that makes you stop and stare. This photo was taken on about this date a couple of years ago.

Fox Sparrow.

For a short while later I watched a posse of ten Goldencrowned Kinglets working over a patch of Periwinkle searching for the kind of microscopic food that keeps these engaging little mites alive. They were close enough and bold enough, and I optimistic enough, that I invested perhaps too much time trying to get a good photo of one. Goodness knows I’ve tried and tried but they rarely stay in one place for more than a moment and I always seem to get blurry, out of focus, or just-leaving-you-now shots or, if I’m lucky a well focused back-end portrait. I did no better today, here’s a gallery of today’s shots, just as I described.

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They are in marked contrast to this shot of a stoic Great Blue Heron who stood watching me warily, but nevertheless chose to stay at the river’s edge where there was the chance of a meal.

Blue-headed Vireo

October 21st . 2017. RBG Hendrie Valley, Burlington, ON. With two companions I walked the transect route around this lovely valley. It was eight o-clock when we started and unusually warm for this time of year but it became dank and chilly as we headed down to where the cold airs of night had settled. This uncharacteristically warm fall has confused the natural world, daylight length tells you it’s late October but it still feels like mid-September. Trees and herbaceous plants know it’s time to close down for the winter but without frost and other low-temperature cues their leaves are reluctant to let go.

At a time of year when bird sounds are mostly chip notes, chatters and sibilant whispers, very few songs emerge; the likeliest to be heard are American Robins, Carolina Wrens and faint traces of White-throated Sparrows. Today as we followed the edge of the small creek I heard (or did I imagine?) the simple element parts of a vireo, the three-eight of maybe a Red-eyed Vireo. The idea, just the barest possibility floated around the recesses of my mind but was generally disregarded as impossible; until right in front of us a Blue-headed Vireo hopped into view. I ignored everything else and became quite vireo-absorbed in admiration and trying to get a photo lest anyone accuse me of distorting the truth. Here it is, Bird of the Day without equal.

Blue-headed Vireo

A couple more surprises (to me anyway) came a little later as we made our way around a woodland-edged pond where I can reliably expect some loafing Mallards, Wood Ducks and a Great Blue Heron; they were there alright but so too were three each of Gadwall and Northern Shovelers. These must be newly arrived migrants and may not stay for long. I don’t expect to see shovelers until it’s a lot colder, usually mid-November. They’re all handsome birds: Mallard, Wood Duck, Gadwall and Shoveler and on a small woodland pond made a beautiful mental picture to go home with.

Northern Shovelers

Winter Wren

October 14th. 2017. RBG Hendrie Valley, Burlington, ON. I scrapped the first couple of attempts at writing this because I was struggling to frame the idea that some migrant species arrive in waves, or pulses. But that’s it, that’s what I wanted to say. It’s mid October, probably the majority of south-bound species have cleared out by now and birding these days features the arrival and passage of the hardier species passing through as if on a schedule.

What we’re seeing at this rather late date is the passage of migrants most of whom are quite winter-hardy. For them almost anywhere with the right habitat south of the Great Lakes is safe enough through the winter months and we are at the northern limit of that winter range. Some will stay with us especially in sheltered places like valleys with open water or around houses and thick hedges.

For a week or two we have been witness to hordes of White-throated Sparrows working through our woodlands, everywhere you focus your attention there would be a white-throat or two bouncing around. With them came Goldencrowned Kinglets, always on the move, picking, fluttering and searching especially around leaf stalks for insects, they’ve been followed closely by Rubycrowned Kinglets who I think are now in the majority.

Ruby-crowned Kinglet

Barely a week ago the first Hermit Thrushes of the fall showed up, now they are almost common; although common may not be the best choice of word because you don’t see many, they’re so secretive. Today I happened upon two, but they are evasive and stay low, I’m certain there are many more around. While other members of the thrush family make their way into Central and South America, the Hermit Thrush manages to get though winter in the southern half of the United States and into Mexico; a few even linger as far north as this part of Ontario but I think they’re really pushing their luck.

Winter Wren

In the last couple of days Winter Wrens have shown up, a very few will stay the winter but most will keep going. It’s often just a flicker of dark movement somewhere low and impossibly tangled that gives them away. But if you’re patient they usually re-emerge just a few feet away and jump around, flying low and fast, to get your measure.

Winter Wren

Four Winter Wrens were my Birds of the Day but were among many interesting sightings. They were in a transect count that included a late Common Yellowthroat, nearly sixty White-throated Sparrows (it’s reasonable to assume that for every one I counted another ten were not far away.): Two Hermit Thrushes, Two Swamp Sparrows and, heard but not seen, an Eastern Towhee. I’ll be listening and watching for more signs of the Towhee, it just might stay in this sheltered valley.

Hermit Thrush

October 9th. 2017. RBG Arboretum, Hamilton, ON. Last night we were drenched with the aftermath of a late tropical storm, originally Hurricane Nate, as hurricane’s go it was a relatively lightweight number but it still managed to do a lot of damage to Costa Rica. I was scheduled to do one of our transects and had pretty well decided it would be a wash out, but then the rain stopped and radar showed the whole system had moved on. It was a good outing that delivered a handful of surprises.

Turkey Vultures’ roost

First in rather gloomy light, a roosting flock of forty Turkey Vultures on the skeleton of a transmission line tower. These are birds who prefer to soar on warm rising air than flap too hard for a living so I’m sure they were waiting for the sun to come out.

Northern Mockingbird.

Once on the trail I was almost shocked to find a Northern Mockingbird sharing the upper reaches of a leafless hawthorn with a flock of Redwinged Blackbirds. It really was a surprise, it’s been far too long since my last one. They have never been common here, we’re on the northern edge of their range, and I feel the local population has dwindled in the past half-dozen or so years, partly due, I suspect, to the aftermath of a couple of punishing winters, I don’t know. Anyway I was very pleased to see it and asterisked it in my field notes as probable Bird of the Day.

Rounding the corner to a grassy path that cuts through a wide expanse of waist high goldenrod and dogwood, I found myself among a nervous scattering of Myrtle Warblers, Song Sparrows, Whitecrowned Sparrows, a Common Yellowthroat and a Tennessee Warbler. The White-crowned Sparrows were also Bird of the Day-worthy and especially captivating; just like their White-throated Sparrow cousins. Both are just-passing-through birds, the White-throats show up first, and we can count on them for charm, then the White-crowneds follow a bit later as if to show how smart a sparrow can be. Here’s one photographed one spring morning some years ago.

White-crowned Sparrow

The path leads through a tunnel of overgrown shrubs into a tract of tall mixed forest. In the too often bird-less tunnel I was happy to find several flitting Myrtle Warblers and a lone Eastern Phoebe, which always managed to stay several comfortable yards ahead of me. But a nice surprise came when a Hermit Thrush (the first of three this morning) popped up to take a quick look at me, trying to decide whether I was much of a threat I suppose. All of our thrush species have a discrete, almost shifty, way of moving from your approach, making you wonder whether you only imagined movement. Then if you do catch sight of one, it’s usually looking back over its shoulder, in a kind of better-safe-than-sorry stance.

Hermit Thrush

This family of thrushes can be quite confusingly similar in appearance and making a quick identification takes some practice and experience. The Hermit Thrush is one of the easiest because its back, rump and tail show a rich rusty brown as this photo taken in my back yard a couple of years ago shows.

Much as I’d enjoyed the Northern Mockingbird and the White-throated Sparrows the Hermit Thrush really stopped me in my tracks and stood out as my Bird of the Day.

The two hours I spent on the trail produced well over thirty species, not bad at all, but among them were many very nice sightings: the vultures, mockingbird, sparrows and thrushes as described, but also a handful of discrete Tennessee Warblers, two Common Yellowthroats, twenty or so American Robins getting drunk on some ripe magnolia berries, a small flock of Chipping Sparrows and a Cooper’s Hawk in a leafless tree quietly watching over a wide park hoping for an easy kill.

Brown Thrasher

October 5th 2017. RBG Hendrie Valley, Burlington, ON. It was a glorious morning to be out birding, the sort of day that the Great Masters might have painted glowing radiant light. There would have been mythical creatures peacefully attending gentlefolk, heavenly hosts gazing beatifically from distant clouds and of course birds decorating the landscape. While we didn’t manage the entire composition we certainly had birds decorating the landscape.

I’m sure today was International White-throated Sparrow Day, they were everywhere. You can grow a little tired of some over-abundant species, Red-winged Blackbirds come to mind, but not the White-throated Sparrow. As sparrows go they are pretty, the browns are rich, the black and white striped head is bold and the white bib (when evident, because it isn’t always) modestly charming. They have a distinctive spring and summer song, which is reduced to a sibilant whisper at this time of year; instead we recognize them now by a rather short metallic chip note, “plink’. I was supposed to be counting them and tallied ninety but I’ll bet there were ten times as many around the valley.

White-throated Sparrow

Coming a close second in abundance were Myrtle Warblers. At this time of year they are comparatively drab and were it not for their signature yellow rump they might cause a lot of confusion. I counted just over thirty but again, for every one I counted I’ll bet there was another dozen.

Myrtle (Yellow-rumped) Warbler

These two species are on my long list of small-f favourites, not for any special reason, I just like them and the day might have been satisfying enough with them alone, but many more surprises were to come. My list for the day hold ones and twos of many species which I had assumed had left for good some days or even weeks ago: a Nashville Warbler, two Palm Warblers, an Eastern Phoebe, a Philadelphia Vireo, two Rose-breasted Grosbeaks and – My Bird of the Day a Brown Thrasher which certainly invoked my Wow! response.

Brown Thrasher

I thought Brown Thrashers had left for good a month or so ago, wrongly it turns out; I certainly hadn’t seen one since mid-late August. But there it was, feasting shyly on the thick bunches of Virginia Creeper fruit. Searching various reference books I’ve learned that Brown Thrashers don’t need to go very far south to find suitable winter quarters and may sometimes be found here during the coldest months. Well, not so unusual I suppose, but still My Bird of the Day, it too is in my long list of small-f favourites.

Eastern Phoebe

The drama of the day came while I was looking down across a pond holding passive Wood Ducks and Mallards, I heard a brief splash and caught the vanishing sight of a Peregrine Falcon climbing strongly away from the pond and heading to the crest of a line of tall oaks. It was one of those fleeting Peregrine glimpses and I assume the splash was a panicked but still alive duck, the falcon left empty handed.

Canvasbacks and Common Gallinule

September 26th 2017. Port Rowan Wetland, ON. Today brought the break in the weather we’d been waiting for. The overnight turned cool, we found morning temperatures in low teens (C.) and a steady breeze from the north-west.

With this change of weather in mind and anticipating a rewarding day my companion and I headed to Long Point, arguably one of the best (if not the best) birding spots in Canada. Long Point is a 38 km, east-west aligned, finger of sand, anchored at one end and leading out into the middle of Lake Erie. In many ways it is effectively an island and for reasons I have yet to fully understand, migrant birds are drawn to it before working their way back westward to the base of the finger to rejoin the mainland.

Our day started in the woods around the bird observatory and it was busy: busy with volunteer observers counting, collecting and banding birds, busy with visitors like us and busy with birds almost everywhere we looked. My British companion could hardly keep his feet on the ground he was so inspired and excited by the abundance. He used expressions to describe the windfall, common enough in England I imagine but oddly colourful to North Americans, “It’s mental, it’s heaving with warblers everywhere you look!” he exclaimed before disappearing down another trail dense with wild grape and poison ivy.

Myrtle Warbler in fall drab

Much of the activity was Mytle Warblers but there were other favourites of mine like Blue-headed Vireo and Northern Harriers. In our half-day spent more or less in one small area I noted about forty species, a good half of which would be comment-worthy sightings any day and included: Wilson’s Snipe (three feeding in the deep mud of a shallow pond), a Blackthroated Green Warbler, a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, three Bald Eagles, and first Bird of the Day, a long, V-skein of Canvasbacks high overhead.  Almost out of sight, flying in silence and twinkling in the sunlight, perhaps a hundred and fifty of them. Sadly many of them will end up one on someone’s table; they are one of America’s favourites, roasted and served with fried hominy and red currant. They look better, I think, served up like the ones below (ice and snow excepted).

Canvasbacks (& a Redhead) in a Christmas Day snow storm

To close out the day we made a side trip to a managed wetland where we found an interesting assortment of ducks and near-ducks: Gadwall, Green-winged Teal, Mallards, Pied-billed Grebe, American Coot and a last minute joint-Bird of the Day, a Common Gallinule with her trio of fluffy black chicks. As soon as I saw it I exclaimed “And there’s a Moorhen!” Well a year or two ago I would have been correct, it was a moorhen, but the arbiters of nomenclature have renamed it Common Gallinule; a name that doesn’t trip nearly as easily off the tongue.

Common Gallinule

Going back through some of my old books, first published variously in 1898, 1934, and 1966 this species was always Common Gallinule and then sometime in the not to distant past ‘they’ decided to call it Common Moorhen. That was an easy and welcome change for me because it is virtually identical to the European Moorhen of my childhood; an aquatic bird of quiet waterways with plenty of shoreline vegetation. Too good to last,a short-lived name change now it’s gone back to being Common Gallinule.

Others seem to see them with regularity, I don’t. It’s been a few years since I last caught a glimpse of one so, scarce or not, today’s Common Gallinule was an easy Bird of the Day in the company of that earlier flight of Canvasbacks.

Cooper’s Hawks

September 26th 2017. RBG Arboretum, Hamilton, ON. Another hot day brought low expectations for bird activity. Today was forecasted to be almost the last of this dehydrating heat wave. My companion and I made our way through woodlands listening to Blue Jays screeching and chuckling and walked a lakeside trail scanning the waters hoping for something more interesting than the usual rolling and roiling flocks of hungry Double-crested Cormorants.

At a time when we would normally be seeing active small migrants, warblers, vireos and the like, we struggled to find much movement in the trees at all. We spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make out this small warbler, neck-wrenchingly high overhead. Here’s a blown-up photo, the best I could get and I think it was a Myrtle Warbler.

Myrtle Warbler

A word about Myrtle Warblers is in order here. In about 1974 when I first started birding in Canada there were Myrtle Warblers, I won’t say I knew them well; they were just one more puzzling warbler species among the two or three dozen that might be encountered. Around that time a formal committee of the American Ornithologists’ Union decided that Myrtle Warbler was too sweepingly vague and that it should thereafter be split into at least two species; our local bird would become the Yellow-rumped Warbler and out west there would be Audubon’s Warbler. Well, that did make it easier for many of us; Yellow-rumped is after all a perfectly descriptive name (whereas neither Myrtle nor Audubon’s tells a novice birder anything helpful). And so for as long as I have been posting to this site I have greeted Yellow-rumped Warblers countless times, they are a conspicuous and much-loved part of our avifauna. But the Yellow-rumped is no more: it and its close relatives have been re-sorted and the Myrtle Warbler is back with us.

Our Bird of the Day was a pair of young Cooper’s Hawks that stormed us, flying low and fast up the middle of a trail, approaching us at eye-level and only breaking away at the last moment. They split, one veered to the lake while the other shot to our right and settled in a tree not five metres away. It sat nervously on a branch watching us warily but allowed me to take several pictures, here’s one of the best.

Cooper’s Hawk

It all happened so fast and I was uncertain, were they Sharp-shinned or Cooper’s Hawks? The two species are all but identical and my opportunistic photos didn’t help much. There are some subtle plumage and structural differences and Sharp-shins are generally smaller, but only generally smaller because a female Sharp-shinned may be larger than a male Cooper’s. After the fact examination of my photos and some poring over texts persuaded me these were young Cooper’s Hawks.

We were still tingling from this close engagement when a little later we saw two more Cooper’s Hawks who were trying to ignore groups of protesting Blue Jays; the jays chased and screamed and the hawks coarsely SSHHhhhd back at them.