After weeks of rainy days, I took advantage of a sunny break to revisit the Nature Conservancy’s Chickering Bog which I had first explored in late 2015. The trip over there is scenic and birdy and these guys watched me while I listened to a Least Flycatcher along the way.
My first Vermont Killdeer greeted me at the parking area.
The trail in was loaded with mosquitos and bird song — warblers, vireos, ovenbirds, and others — and a pair of camera-shy White-throated Sparrows.
A real treat was a Winter Wren who packed a lot of song into a tiny body. The photo quality is poor due to low light and an elusive songster.
Lots of other items to see — here are a few:
I came home to this guy, who with his spouse, visits the feeder daily. What a joy to watch the grosbeaks, purple finches, and hummingbirds for a needed dose of crimson.
The Goshawk limped home from Texas carrying a broken awning and a damaged undercarriage. We took on a load of contaminated fuel (likely water) in Virginia which nearly grounded us. After a safe arrival and several sessions with insurance adjusters, I am ready to leave it at the RV center and forget about it until everything is fixed.
In the meantime, Spring is slowly creeping into northern Vermont as we await the migrating birds. Penny and I took a hike yesterday afternoon in our woods and the surrounding territory and aside from chickadees, nothing was moving or calling. It was still wonderful to be out getting some exercise. Then from up ahead, I heard the unmistakeable cry of a Northern Goshawk and soon saw a large slate and white raptor weaving through the woods. The dog and I watched him/her but could not get very close. I grabbed a few long range photos as we enjoyed this majestic bird.
It was wonderful to hear and see this raptor, who was likely one of the two that were here this time last year, right after I named the van Goshawk. I hope I’ll have more encounters with this Goshawk in the weeks ahead. A nice taste of spring birding in Central Vermont. Bring them on.
My friends Lisa and Scott have a successful compost business in the neighboring town where they take organic scraps and waste from restaurants, breweries, and a host of other sources and create wonderful soil and conditioner that is treasured by organic gardeners and landscapers. They also host a great array of birds who flock to check out their rows of steaming goodies.
For several weeks a couple of rare gulls have been hanging out and attracting birders from all over Vermont and adjacent states. I’ve been pretty tied up and away from birding but yesterday, took the short jaunt over to check out the action. Scott waved to me from the big front end loader as I parked and scanned the piles of compost and the hundred gulls feeding, flying periodically, and returning to the large mounds of organic matter. A few Ring-billed gulls, more Great Black-backed gulls, and even more Herring Gulls. I was looking for a rarity and spotted it right away as it posed front and center in the group. An Iceland Gull: smaller than a Herring Gull, no black wingtips, with a black beak, pink legs and feet. Life bird! They should all be so easy.
I was also looking for a Glaucous Gull which had been reported but which I didn’t see it. Perhaps I’ll head back before we head to Texas.
Yesterday, on a nice Fall day with no leaves, or leaf-peepers, Penny the Vizsla, my friend Sally, and I drove over to Addison County to check on the migrating Snow Geese — which had been reported for the last week. The hazy sun was prompting raptors to hunt and we stopped a number of times to see Red-tails and a Northern Harrier or two hunt. It was slow going as we stopped, turned around, and checked out about a dozen hawks – but it was fun.
Arriving at the Goose Viewing Area on Route 17 in Addison, there were a few cars and looker but no geese visible in the air or on the fields. Our disappointment died after only five or ten minutes when a large white flock rose into the southerly wind, honking like crazy. I’m not good at counting but it was likely a thousand or more. Here’s what they looked like:
After watching them swirl and gather, we drove over to Dead Creek where there were hundreds of Mallards and a different look at the geese.
Here is a short clip that I took of the geese flying. The wind noise tends to cancel out their calls but believe me, they were loud.
It was a nice trip and Sally’s first experience seeing Snow Geese. They are amazing birds and we wish them well on their journey south.
During an early morning bird walk at North Branch Nature Center this morning, a participant called out, “I got a yellow-headed stripey warbler in the willow over there.” After some patient watching a little yellow bird bounce around through the leaves, we decided, well our leader Chip helped us decide, that it was a Black-throated Green Warbler in fall plumage. We went on to see several more and a wide array of confusing fall warblers along with many other usual suspects.
In the afternoon, after some futile searching for my Vizsla (who returned four hours later with a stick wedged in her mouth) I decided to wait outside for her and read. That plan was interrupted by a flock of warblers in my crabapple tree. I ran to get my binoculars and camera and saw several more BTNW’s along with finches, sparrows, and chickadees. Here are a couple of shots of the warblers.
For most of us who are pedestrian level birders, it is really tough to identify warblers this time of year. They aren’t singing, their plumage is different – it’s tough. When you have an expert along it makes life easier. A friend of mine recently wrote me, “I often wish I had Chip in my back pocket to help me identify birds that I see but have no clue about.” I certainly second that thought. Good fall birding to you.
I’ve taken a break from serious birding for a few weeks but it’s hard not to notice that migration has started and transitions are underway. Lots of juveniles flying and feeding, some pretty ratty looking molting going on, and flocks are starting to gather and move through. It’s a bittersweet time of year as we never say goodbye — suddenly our summer friends are gone.
A week or two ago, I spent some time in Massachusetts and did a little birding with Penny. There were large flocks of Eastern Bluebirds, most looking a little ragged, who are likely gone by now. There were dozens of flycatchers out and about, silent as church mice, except for a number of very vocal Eastern Wood Pewees. Here’s one singing away.
On the same walk, I came across a number of Chipping Sparrows. It wasn’t until I unloaded the camera that I saw the meal this one had just caught.
Back home in Vermont, I took the boat out early one morning last week and found these Common Mergansers preening on the boat ramp. I launched quietly down the beach and left them to their morning ablutions.
I keep the hummingbird feeder stoked and clean and love watching the youngsters fight with each other as the jockey for food. Any day they will be gone, perhaps today. I grabbed a shot of one perched yesterday morning and noted that they were pretty active all day. Long flight ahead.
Our local Red-shouldered Hawks are active. Two juveniles have been calling and flying overhead the last couple of days. This one was right above me as I drove home from errands downtown.
We get a lot of morning ground fog this time of year. Tuesday morning I took a drive down to our reservoir but from the dam could not see much. I got out of the car (without the camera) to walk the dog and immediately heard some geese in the fog. Suddenly, twenty-five Canada Geese came right out of the fog toward me, saw us and swerved, with lots of geese trash talk, and headed south at low level. It was a cool way to start the morning.
Cedar Waxwings seem to be everywhere, feeding like crazy, moving through in small groups. They are often pretty high in our pines but this one was feeding in the wild grapes as the dog and I took our afternoon walk out back. The end of the day was neat as well.
After several weeks dealing with triple-digit temperatures and a couple of hot, humid days back here in Vermont as I mowed our cow pasture aka lawn and bush-hogged our woods trails, it was great to strap the boat on Mary’s newly inspected car and head out early this morning with the air temperature 60. I was on the water before 6:30 and had the reservoir to myself.
As I drove in, I saw a mama Mallard and her crew foraging along the shoreline. I launched the boat, paddled easily over towards them as she drew them into the lake, and listened to her cluck to them as I drifted, shooting with the long lens, and they motored on. I left them to enjoy the rest of their morning.
Being a weekend, the highway noise was nothing and I just moved easily along with no ear buds, FitBit, or other distractions other than the birding gear. It was very refreshing, physically and mentally, and I listened to the Belted Kingfishers, the Common Yellowthroats, the Veery, some Cedar Waxwings, and a couple of flycatchers, just poking along on a cool misty Vermont summer morning.
The lighting was terrible for photography and I was rusty. I spooked several birds when I brought the camera up too fast, and missed others trying to control the boat speed and direction and doing neither well. It wasn’t a big deal – but I remembered that much of my birding in the last few months has been at preserves and locations where the birds seem more used to people, and tend to sit a little more still.
There was an Osprey perched right over the reservoir on a craggy dead tree who seemed quite uninterested in me. The camera shots were not ready for prime time. The water level was higher than it often is this time of year and so I could cover some areas that are normally mudflats.
The inlet to the reservoir is the North Branch of the Winooski and it offers a short stretch of quiet paddling with ledges, overhanging trees, and on this occasion, a family of beavers. They were very active and I was on their turf and they let me know. I felt comfortable but they were very close, as you can see here.
Four Great Blue Herons, probably this year’s youngsters, accompanied me part of the way back, squawking to one another all the way. The boat handled well — it felt good to get a little upper body workout — and Penny had slept after her morning walk and breakfast and was ready for the next item on the day’s agenda when I got home. The next project turned out to be to remove the hundreds of baked-on bugs 0n the Airstream Interstate that I picked up in the 12,000 miles I’ve put on it since April. But I was in a good mood from the lovely paddle and it went well. Now to get some better early morning light for photography.
I have been frustrated with blogging from the road where wifi is often slim or none. I can use 3G/4G with the iPhone or the iPad but handling pictures from the Canon SX50 is a hassle. Too much transferring and time taken .
So yesterday, I decided to get back into digiscoping with the iPhone so I’d only have to use one electronic device. I had gotten the scope repaired this winter but haven’t been using it. So, with the tripod and scope over one shoulder and the leash for the Vizsla in the other hand, off we went for a little test hop.
I guess that the Indigo Bunting that popped up first was a good omen. He posed cooperatively as he worked several apple trees right near our campsite. Here are a few shots:
It was rather quiet in mid-afternoon but I also found a Chipping Sparrow and several Black-capped Chickadees to practice with.
I have yet to master riding my bike with the dog attached and also carrying a tripod and scope. This endeavor should prove interesting. Stay tuned.
I have walked, skied, and biked rail trails around the East and have to say that the West River one is the best I’ve seen. It’s scenic, very burst, and remote so I can let my anti-social (re dogs) Vizsla off-leash and not be bothered by hordes of joggers, cyclists, or dog-walkers.
We took a walk Friday afternoon and I was struck by the quiet. No road noise – nothing but the river and birds. This morning, we went out early and needed a jacket and gloves, which were in the van, but I was too lazy to turn around. I had set up the “Springer” attachment which allows Penny to jog alongside the bike. We use that in the park.
The rail trail goes right through the campground. We start at the southern section and head a few miles toward the big Ball Mountain dam.
It’s easy, when traveling along the trail, to visualize the small trains that once plied this 33-mile route. Lots of ledge cuts, stream crossings, and river crossing (which are mainly abutments.)
The bird calls were amazing. Of course the Veery and the Hermit Thrush are among my favorites but I also saw a dozen or more Ovenbirds. They are usually tough to spot in spite of their constant singing but these were on the path, in the low branches, just not worried about this guy and his dog. I am not carrying my camera since I don’t have my laptop with me so that’s why I haven’t posted bird photos.
Penny is 12 and moving pretty well but I don’t want to over-tax her so we stopped at where the railroad crossed the river. She enjoyed checking the place out and I enjoyed the view, spotting a couple of Common Mergansers downriver.
The trail continues, less bike-friendly, down toward the flood control dam. We turned around and ended up with a two hour outing with about 35 bird species. We earned the bacon and pancakes with maple syrup that I cooked outside after our return.
This campground is the last place where Mary and I camped – we had a lovely time last fall. Saturday marked the two-month anniversary of her death so the walks, bike rides, even the black flies that loved her and ignored me, are gentle reminders. One advantage of knowing most bird calls is that you can bird with tears in your eyes.
After trading some honey for future goodies from my friends at the Post Office Cafe, Penny and I launched on a short shakedown cruise. My brother had lent me a bike rack so we strapped on the old man’s bicycle and we were off.
One of the objectives is to zero in on just what I need to bring on next month’s western trip, where to stow stuff so that it doesn’t shake, rattle, and roll as we head over rough spots and negotiate curves. We never heard that when it was all back in the trailer.
Since we had plenty of time and a gorgeous Vermont day, I decided to take Route 100. It was a good diversion – just plain Vermont for much of the way. It is definitely a ski route as we first hit Sugarbush, then the Killington complex, and then Okemo in Ludlow.
As is the case every summer, there were several one lane bridge repairs and many resurfacing projects. We complain about potholes for six months and traffic delays the other six. Friday was too perfect a day to fret over some stops besides, I had no schedule and Penny certainly did not.
One of my favorite spots of this route is the chain of lakes north of Ludlow where a half century ago, I spent several great summers at Boy Scout camp. Now a state park, Camp Plymouth was special. A good friend from those times – a long-time classmate – Doug Allen said to me not too long ago, “Dick, I often wish I was back there weaving lanyards out of gimp.” I certainly agreed.
After Weston, where Dad was in the CCC’s, we came to South Londonderry, Mom’s hometown. There are no relatives left there but many memories.
Mary and I came here to Winhall Brook Campground last fall and loved its peacefulness and beauty. This time I opted for one of the no-hookup sites along the brook.
Of course, the narrow bridge is always a bit of a challenge.
So, Penny and I are on a grassy site right beside the brook. It’s quiet – bird song and gurgling water noises. We just took a good bike ride down the rail trail and after a decent supper, need to go to town for bread and a 3G signal.