As we all know in birding, sometimes you just have to show up. This morning is a case in point: I had a dermatology appointment (nothing like getting your ear frozen to start the day) and afterwards, decided to do my normal loop up by the nearby airport to check for owls or snow buntings.
I pulled into a favorite spot of ours near the Eye Center where we’ve seen Northern Shrikes and stopped the truck, noting a crow sweeping low over what looked like a grayish Walmart bag in the middle of the field. Sure enough, it was a young Snowy Owl about 100 yards away looking at me. I rolled down the truck window, watched it for a bit with binoculars, and fired off a bunch of shots with the Canon SX50. I called my friends at North Branch Nature Center and emailed a couple of others as I watched for about ten minutes. I decided to leave so as to not draw attention from the many patients coming and going from the medical offices.
A young Snowy Owl a long ways from home in a field in Berlin, VT.
After getting some coffee I swung back to see if my friends had seen it and sure enough, they were there with big smiles. The bird had moved into some taller grass and like me, they got it with a harassing crow’s help.
I can stop checking every clump of snow, every plastic bag, every abnormal lump in a field. With only three days left in Vermont before heading out, it’s great to end of a nice note — and to give some of my birding buddies a Christmas gift – a look at a Snowy. And I can write most of the mileage off as a medical expense.
I started this year all cranked to do a County Big Year and got off to good start the first quarter. Then a pinched nerve in my back took a couple of months to deal with and I missed a lot of the spring warbler season. Then, this Fall, I tore up my knee and missed much of the Fall warbler season. So, although I picked up some of the warblers, I scaled back my expectations and goals.
Recently, realizing that I’ll be out-of-state three or four weeks, I decided to get serious and get out there — and have added birds every week. Yesterday was a banner day — four additions and one the day before.
Thursday’s bird was “incidental” to say the least. I had been driving the back roads looking for Horned Larks, reported the day before, with no luck. Driving home, I stopped at a local mini-mart for the paper and as I got out of the truck, I heard this loud bird song. It seemed to echo and I thought it was a recording or something but followed it, to see a small bird high up in a bare maple, singing away. “I know that call,” I thought as I raced back to the truck for my binoculars. It had departed as I tromped into the store with bins around neck and a camera hanging from the shoulder. All the way home, I was trying to sort it out — then went on to other stuff, thinking I’d work on it that evening. Before long, I saw an eBird alert for a Carolina Wren at the same place, same time, by a friend who had seen it, but not me — and unknowingly, mentored me electronically.
Friday was more intentional. The day before, my birder friend Patti saw three birds that I needed and we exchanged emails about location. I packed up the dog early and off we went to Berlin Pond to check things out. Right away, I saw the Pied-billed Grebe that she had reported and fiddled around with trying to digiscope it. They spend a lot of time underwater and this one was out quite a ways, so the result below is simply for the record.
The pond has few spots for viewing but with the leaves gone, you can work around the branches and tree trunks and see the western shoreline. There were over a hundred Mallards and mixed in, three American Coots, a Bufflehead (county year bird), and a Common Goldeneye (county year bird.) It’s tough to park with your blinkers on and count Mallards through a scope through a forest — but worthwhile today. It was too distant for photographs, especially given the branches.
I finished up, was heading homeward, and glanced out the one open spot on the road and saw some white — and thought it was just another hoodie. I pulled over, got out the scope, and saw a bird moving fast, with lots of white, and one that I didn’t know. Three Mallards caught up with it and the little flotilla paddled northward into an area where the bank was lined with trees.
Three Mallards and a Long-tailed Duck cruising northward.
I didn’t know for sure until I got home and checked my books that it was a Long-tailed Duck. I’ve only seen one before and we don’t get a lot of them in Central Vermont. It was a good bird to hit the #150 mark. Now, to find those darn larks.
Here is a frenetic video of the LTDU moving back southward. Poor quality but good evidence.
It was a chilly morning with a stiff wind. Penny and I were headed down the closed-off road to the Wrightsville Reservoir rec area to check for waterfowl and get some exercise. Lugging my scope over my shoulder and binoculars and camera from my neck, I felt like a pack mule while the dog ran here and there. There’s no one around this time of year so it’s a great place for us – and only a mile from home.
My hands were freezing in the thin gloves — I realized that the hand warmers, guaranteed for 10 hours, were last year’s supply and had lost their pizzaz. I didn’t even get 10 minutes.
As I carefully approached the water, I set up in the woods and immediately saw a Great Blue Heron fishing on the far bank. The water was roiling and the wind was tough, so I headed down on the loop we often take, planning to keep it a short one.
I saw some movement — a large bird flying — and thought that the heron had flushed. Then, in my binoculars, I saw that it was a Bald Eagle, being harassed by crows. I fumbled for the camera, turned it on, set the dial for action shots, and with frosty fingers, took a few shots.
Two crows pester a young bald eagle — Wrightsville Reservoir, VT
The trio circled above us, whipped by the winds and disappearing now and then over the tree line. I fired away but in situations like this, I find out that I am a birder who carries a camera, not a photographer who happens to bird. Here are a couple of highly cropped shots:
I have seen this eagle once before here. I am guessing that it is a 2nd-year bird from the markings.
It was only a show of several minutes but exciting — Bald Eagles are scarce enough in the area (I saw one other last February) that they are a treat for a birder.
We struck out on waterfowl and the wind had driven all the sparrows and friends deep into cover so we cut it short, but I for one didn’t feel cheated. As an aviator, to see the eagle gracefully soaring on flat wings ignoring the dive-bombing of the crows was fun and worth a few white fingers.
We have had a pair of Winter Wrens in our woods all the Fall and while they don’t sing the way they do in the spring, they chip away at the dog and me on nearly every walk. I know just where they hang out — in a brushy area with some old apple trees — and I can hear one of them before we approach. Because they are low to the ground, the dog too often gets interested.
So, I have been on a quest to get a photo or two of these cute little balls of energy. Sometimes I don’t have my camera, other times it is too dark, but too frequently, the guys just move too fast in the brush, popping up for clear looks once in a while. I got lucky the other day.
Here’s how we normally see our Winter Wrens, visible but surrounded by brush and branches.But this guy just popped up for a “What are you doing?” pose. 1/250 f/6.5 215 mm
I just love these birds — feisty, inquisitive, and a beautiful singer. Glad we have a good habitat for them — and I look forward to their springtime calls that seem to go on forever. Have a good winter, buddy.
Three doe, which I see most outings in our woods, eased off into the brush this afternoon, as the dog and I began another birding trip around our loop. They flicked their tails a bit but we passed them quickly and let them be. But it did get me thinking about non-bird stuff we see every day while birding.
This morning while birding at the local reservoir, I found a beaver “slide”cut down an embankment where the animals slide the smaller trees they have felled. The beavers were elsewhere but had been getting ready for winter.
It brought to mind a delightful experience last week at Berlin Pond where I noted some movement far across the water. I got my scope set up and saw a couple of “sea serpents” cavorting through the shallows. I kept looking, not believing the length of them and the long pointed tails that entered the water last as they undulated, seemingly chasing one another. I was wishing for one of my naturalist friends to come by and help me figure it out — it was my first good look at River Otters in action. Of course, when I went to the truck for the camera, they moved into the reeds — but it was a neat moment.
We have had a young buck on our property this year — I saw him earlier when his antlers were in velvet. Penny and I jumped him again the other day and he loped a quarter mile to the hillside across from us and posed. Here is the very long distant shot I took:
Perhaps the most interesting observation this year was two weeks ago, early in the morning as it was just getting light, as Penny and I just started out from the house. I saw some movement, black fur, and thought, “Great, a bear cub.” I got my binoculars on it to see a Fisher Cat watching me. I wasn’t sure of the identification until it turned to move away and I saw the long black tail. Fortunately, the dog was engaged elsewhere and never saw it. It was the first one I’ve ever seen and quite a start to that walk.
So, the things we’ve seen before in our woods but not yet this year include porcupines, a coy dog, raccoons, several black bears, and a big bull moose. Given the fact that the Vizsla is always roaming with me, I’m fine with not seeing them again.
As I slowly recover from knee surgery, my birding has consisted mainly of sitting for brief moments watching our feeders — and enjoying it even while knowing that migration is underway and that I likely have warblers moving through our woods. It’s frustrating at times but each day gets minimally better — and I know that I could have much tougher medical situations to deal with.
Our daughter sent me a neat gift the other day — a iTunes coupon for the short movie, The Central Park Effect, which I blogged about last year but never got to see. Here’s the trailer:
I watched it on the computer a couple of days ago and as I knew, it was delightful. My only complaint is that I need to watch it again with a better birder since I was not sure of a couple of the identifications. A couple of takeaway items for me were these: Enjoy the birds you have around you, even the ones you see every day. And you need to get out and be with them, just experiencing them.
Yesterday and today, I spent time on our decks (I don’t dare venture on to the ground with crutches yet) just absorbing the birds coming and going. I got buzzed by a couple of hummers, had a young Hairy Woodpecker very close, cocking his head to check me out. An Eastern Phoebe bobbed its tail in the unweeded garden. Song Sparrows and American Goldfinches were hitting the tall grass. And it felt good to sort of be “out there” with them.
It will be a few weeks, assuming that progress continues, before I can do much serious birding. But the great little movie made me appreciate what a wonderful spot we have here for birds and that it is therapeutic to get out and be with them. Good birding.
We are inundated with American Goldfinches. What a neat problem to have. These brilliant bursts of yellow and black sing from the treetops, bounce through the air with their unique flight, and mob the thistle seed feeder. They also sit still for photographs.
They seem to know they are photogenic – pausing and giving you different looks.
Some of our Blue Jays and Purple Finches are still looking pretty ratty from the molt but the Goldfinches seem to be about done — and are strutting their new outfits.
We know they’ll be heading out soon but in this wonderful stretch of ripe blackberries, blossoming golden-rod, and beautiful blue skies, they add a wonderful pizzaz to a late summer day. Tank up kids, long trip ahead.
As I try to heal from a torn meniscus or two from my birding mishap, I have had a lot of time to sit and quietly observe the many birds at our feeders. We have dozens of young Purple Finches along with more sparrows than I’ve seen before — chipping, white-throated, song — many little brown jobs.
Let’s try this before Mr. Macho chases me off.
The woodpeckers and nuthatches hit the suet, as do the chickadees. Mourning Doves clean up the deck while Common Yellow-throats and an occasional warbler also hang out in the nearby crabapple tree. Sitting and just observing is much better than TV, and there is the undertone that most of these guys and gals are trying to add weight for the journey ahead.
Many are in molt and some come looking pretty ratty. This is particularly noticeable after some of the many rains we’ve had. It makes the ones with new outfits, some of the male American Goldfinches and Purple Finches, really stand out.
But why can’t the hummers get along? All day long, they seem to be chasing one another off a feeder. Sitting there reading, you get one buzzing by pretty close, with another right behind. We have two feeders and usually no more than three hummers at a time, but it is bothersome. The males seem to be the harrassers but I’m not sure the gals don’t reciprocate. Mating season is long gone and it seems like they all need to tank up and get ready to head southward before two long.
I hope she left some for me.
I guess, as I get my knee back in shape, I’ll have plenty of time to do some reading on this subject – right now it just makes me want ask them. “You’re acting like seventh-graders. Why can’t we all just get along.”
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Last week, I had the truck in for maintenance and rather than sit in the waiting room with a mindless tv program blaring, I decided to take a walk with the dog and do a little birding. Fortunately, we have a wonderful forested park right in downtown Montpelier so off I headed toward the golden dome of the statehouse.
Hubbard Park rises straight up behind the statehouse and has a winding trail that weavesbup through tall pine and hardwood trees to an observation tower. No sooner did I enter the wood when I heard an Ovenbird over the din of morning traffic. There is construction underway downtown so the singing Red-eyed Vieros and Hermit Thrushes competed with back-up signals from dump trucks. This faded as we climbed and I began to hear Black-throated Greens (and Blues) and other woodland birds as we climbed.
The trail was rebuilt by Youth Conservation Corps teams who also built some clever resting spots like this one.
In 1899, Montpelier was given 134 acres of land by John E. Hubbard for use as a park and then, in 1911, was donated additional land was donated where the present stone observation tower stands.
You come out of the woods into a lovely clearing, filled with birds, in which stands the Hubbard Park tower. Penny and I don’t do towers — but I hear the view is great.
We started to encounter dogs and walkers as we entered into the roads of the park. It is a popular exercise spot for canines and at present, there is no leash requirement so it can be a little dicey with a bossy Vizsla, who is on a leash. We maneuvered by several groups of people and dogs as we moved down toward the new shelter. There were some American Redstarts and Blackburnian Warblers calling high in the foliage and a half dozed Red-eyed Vireos.
The park is extensive and hooks up with trails at the North Branch Nature Center and other city land.
As we descended back toward the “Meadow Area” of Montpelier, we started running into some field-habitat birds and I grabbed a couple of photos:
This American Goldfinch was chowing down on some plants and ignored us.A juvenile Common Yellowthroat played hide and seek as I tried to take a photo.
We were soon back on city streets and heading back toward the garage to pick up the Ford. It was such a lovely outing, right smack in the middle of the capitol city of Vermont. Without a lot of work, I logged 20 species, and know that I missed some. So if you are visiting Montpelier, carve out some time to walk the trails of this great resource. You can drive most of the way up this time of year and avoid some pretty steep climbs. It is a safe place and a great place to air out a restless pooch — and see and hear some neat birds.
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Yesterday morning, Mary and I dropped in at a public bird banding demonstration at North Branch Nature Center led by Director Chip Darmstadt. Jen and Mac came a bit later and were fortunate to see a rather rare Yellow-billed Cuckoo — not caught but just hanging out in the area. I had seen banding several times but Mary had not and we both we enthralled by the one bird we saw banded and released. Here are some shots — a young birder, experienced in banding, handled this one with guidance from Chip.
A young birder retrieves a bird from the bag in which it is held after capture.It is a feisty young Grey CatbirdA volunteer records information on each bird as it is examined. The data is sent to the Institute for Bird Populations.The bird is carefully examined. The brownish fuzz under the tail tells Chip that this is a hatch year bird.Banding rings and a sizing tool.One of the last steps is to weigh the bird.This guy, who watched intently, just found out he’s going to get to release the catbird.Not a great release shot but there goes the young catbird, no worse for wear, and now part of an extensive database. Perhaps we’ll trap him next year and read his band – or next week.
If you have an opportunity to observe banding, I highly recommend it. You not only learn about the process and how to handle birds, but you also get a better appreciation of all the research work that is being done to track and monitor our avian friends. Good birding.
