Warbler Agresssion

So I was back out at the edge of the far field, where I saw the Brewster's warbler, and many others besides, when I heard the song of the golden-winged warbler again. Then I heard the mixed song I'd heard the Brewster's singing. And of course, now that I've seen a Brewster's, I really want to see any bird singing this kind of song, not least because I can count the Brewster's as a "probable" breeder for purposes of the Breeding Atlas if I see it singing again in the same place a week or more after the first time. So, I listened and watched, climbed my viewing rock at the edge of the field, behind the willow copse (I have a line on a new camera--so I hope to be illustrating the action again soon), and watched and listened some more. I finally located the bird, but couldn't get a fix on it. I was looking through the binoculars, when all of a sudden, it flew by like a bullet within inches of my head.

Last fall I was in just this same spot, looking and listening, trying to identify the migrant warblers feeding in the shrubbery, and "pishing" to get one to show itself. A golden-winged flew at me in just this same way. I never did get a really good look at this current divebomber, but the glimpse I got after I found it again in the willows suggested golden-winged (I could see the a dark patch on the throat) not the Brewster's of earlier this month.

Any little bird might fly at your head once by accident, on its way somewhere perhaps, a moment of inattention, mistaking a person for some other large oblong shape. But twice? Same species? Same habitat? All I can say is, watch out for the pretty little golden-winged warbler.

Breaking the silence

Over a month since the last post--the reason? Overwork? stress? Well, the main reason is that my digital camera gave up the ghost, and somehow the lack of images silenced me. But the bird breeding season is well underway, and there is much to report, so I fought hard to find my voice again.

Until I find another camera or a source for images, we'll have to make do with links. It's too bad--the fields and cedar bush go through amazing transitions in both colour and form through April and May. Right now the leaves are almost fully out, the grass is growing so fast you can see it, and the marsh marigolds are in bloom in the swamp.

But best of all, the warblers and others are singing.

Song sparrows are feeding young in the nest. Chickadees in the yard are fledged, I think. (Chickadees are fast and quiet breeders.) The king birds showed up in the field just days ago, and already have a nest built in the big old apple tree on the far side. This morning the wood thrush was singing, great crested flycatcher calling, chestnut-sided warbler singing, common yellow throat singing, cardinal, black and white warbler, song sparrows, field sparrows, white-throated sparrows (white-crowned sparrows have finally left for points north). The wood thrush is a common bird around here, and its song is heard from woodlots daily, early in the morning and late in the day well into July, yet its beautiful haunting quality never fails to grab my attention. This example is not the prettiest I've ever heard (individual songs vary enormously), but contains a good range of the sounds that might be included in any particular bird's song--good picture too.

I also heard the song (well, buzzes) of the golden wing warbler. The golden wing warbler hybridizes with the blue wing warbler, which also occurs in this region. I've seen a Brewster's warbler in the far field this season, a product of such a pairing. The one I saw was singing a mixed song, not a pure golden wing song, but even so, I like to see the bird at least once before I say which one it is, especially now that I know hybrids are around. (This is the first year I've seen a hybrid--last year there was a golden wing present all season in the far field.) There is some concern that the golden wing is threatened by hybridization--Cornell Lab of Ornithology is running a study to collect data on the species across its range to assess the impact of the phenomenon. Their web pages also provide lots of good information on habits and identification of the two birds and their offspring.

Check out my breeding atlas square to see the list of breeding birds found in the area. This is the last year that data is being collected for the new Atlas, so check back here often for updates on how it's going.

Ducks in Trees

One morning last May I was out on a morning walk in the fields when I saw a sight I had never seen before: a pair of ducks sitting in a tree. The sun was rising behind them, so I couldn't make out any field marks, but it was clear they were ducks, and, I thought, everyone knows, ducks don't perch in trees!

Well, of course, it turns out that several species of duck do perch in trees, in particular the wood duck, which these turned out to be. Wood ducks nest in cavities in trees, sometimes far from water. And after the ducklings hatch (precocial, as all ducks are, meaning they come out of the shell ready to go), they jump from the tree and are lead by their mother overland to water, where they live (unless eaten) until they are able to fly.

I saw that particular pair of ducks several times over last spring, but did not discover if or where they nested.

This morning I set out for a walk, striding up the hill to the field, and startled a pair of wood ducks that were perched in a tree in the neighbour's backyard. I didn't get much of a look, but I caught up with them again in the swamp in the cedar bush. Perhaps they'll nest there this year.

In the scrape there is a low spot that is a small pond for at least a month or two in the spring. The night before last, its banks were the dancing ground for a woodcock, but this morning, as it is many spring mornings, it was a resting and meeting place for mallards. The picture below shows (not terribly distinctly) two mallard drakes leaving the pond as I came up.


Brothers in Flight

The Yard Skunk

Late last summer a skunk started hanging around the yard. A small cute skunk that I saw regularly, usually at dusk or dawn, but occasionally, as in the photo below, taken last August, in broad daylight.


Through the lilies...

Today, late in the morning, I was walking up at the back, by the shed. I came around the corner, and there was a skunk, a small skunk, a cute skunk. The yard skunk returned? It saw me and skittered under the shed, through the entrance the yard rabbit used all winter. Then for the next few moments, it intermittently stuck its nose out to sniff to see if the danger had passed. But I was still there, so it eventually retreated out of sight. Maybe to wait me out, or maybe it's living there. A little later in the day, I saw my cat come bolting down the hill from the direction of the shed. I let her in the house, and gave her a good sniff, but all was well. I don't think she'd tangle with a skunk.....would she?

They're Here!

This morning I heard my first song sparrow singing of the season. Finally, the early birds are all in place. March 20, first red wing blackbird; March 26, first woodcock "peenting." The robins are singing in the yard too, and have been for several days, but robins overwinter so frequently around here (though I didn't see any this past winter), I am reluctant to count them as real migrants--they may have just flown up from Belleville.

We keep records of the first sightings or hearing of the early birds, and it is remarkable how consistent they are, regardless of weather conditions or whatever else might speed them up or slow them down. The date of arrival varies by less than a week to 10 days over the years.

The first woodcock heard this year was also the first woodcock I've ever seen. Woodcocks are small, funny looking birds that display and "peent" at dusk. They call from the ground, then take off in a whistling, tweeting flight, almost straight up, coming down again not too far from where they started to call again. The one I heard this week came down right past me, so I was able to track him to his landing, and was just able to make him out in the failing light. This bird is also rather cryptically coloured to blend well with the dead grass of the early spring field.

Other travellers reported in the hamlet (by my neighbour Nancy Newman), just passing through, a flock of 15 sandhill cranes flying overhead.

Activity on the walk goes on, but with the snow gone, I only see the barest clues. One print in a patch of mud here, a tuft or two of rabbit fur there, a clump of feathers. But soon the place will be filled with breeding birds. The next spring arrival should be the killdeer, with the bluebird not far behind, and not long after the air will be filled with the songs of the warblers and other late arrivals.

Spring in southern Ontario, sudden, brief, noisy, there's nothing like it.

Great Gray Tragedy

The great gray owls are still around in southern Ontario, although reports indicate that their numbers are dropping off in some areas. Pretty soon they'll have gone home to the north to breed. But too many won't be making it back. These owls are both large and naive about cars, and are being killed on the roads everywhere.

My friends the Newmans called us the other day to let us know that their son had brought a road-killed great gray over for them to take a look at. Sad, but it is an opportunity to get a good look.



That's my hand in the photo, a medium-small woman's hand, for comparison. That's some foot the owl has!



But overall the owl loses its majesty in death. This particular owl was pretty smashed up on the road.

The Yard Rabbit Exposed

All winter we've had a rabbit making daily visits to the bird feeders, gobbling up sunflower seeds and any little treats we've put out especially for it (apple, carrot, etc.) It keeps almost regular hours; you could be pretty sure of getting a glimpse of it winter dusk and dawn. I worried sometimes when the fox tracks were thick in the yard, or when there were a few tufts of bunny fur on the ground, but the rabbit kept turning up (or else it was replaced once or twice, but that doesn't bear thinking about).

Now that spring is here, the rabbit is keeping the same hours, so we get to see it in the daylight. I finally got a picture.



The blue jays startle the poor rabbit--back in the winter they never crossed paths. But you can see here they have made the accomodation.