Goose Island State Park in Rockport, Texas is a great birding spot – even in a drought year like the present one. Between shorebirds and woods birds, there’s a great diversity of species and some years (although not this one) a rarity or two. Here are some captures of a few of the interesting feathered friends I’ve encountered in the last week.
A Buff-bellied Hummingbird
Laughing Gulls
Orange-crowned Warbler
Ruddy Turnstone
Spotted Towhee
Turkey Vultures
White-crowned Sparrow
Willet
Julie Zickefoose lives for the moment when a wild, free living bird that she has raised or rehabilitated comes back to visit her; their eyes meet and they share a spark of understanding. Her reward for the grueling work of rescuing birds—such as feeding baby hummingbirds every twenty minutes all day long—is her empathy with them and the satisfaction of knowing the world is a birdier and more beautiful place.
Check out my birding blog at Vermont Birder
We just arrived at Goose Island State Park, one of our favorite birding spots, and were awakened at 5:00 this morning by a host os noisy airboats taking hunters out to their shooting spots. Yes, it’s the last several days of duck hunting season and being a Sunday, the boys (and gals) are out in force. Taking the Vizsla for a dawn walk, I was admiring the low-flying turkey vultures here while hearing hundreds of shotgun blasts far off. My dog hates gunshots and really has little interest leaving the trailer – she’s growling and barking at the shots she can hear from here on the couch.
I’m not anti-hunting per se but it is disconcerting to see hundreds of ducks here yesterday and then hear the blasting this morning. It’s something that any birder who gets out in the fall at preserves and management areas hears but it doesn’t mean we like it. We buy duck stamps (birders probably match hunters in stamp purchases) to support the conservation programs but if you are like me, you cringe when you see or hear ducks and geese being killed.
Another few hours and things will calm down. Then the dog and I can head out for some quiet birding.
Also check out http://vtairstreaming.blogspot.com/ where we blog about our travels with the Airstream.
Yesterday, we drove from our campground up to the Hiwassee Wildlife Refuge to see the Sandhill Cranes. It was cold and windy but the birds were spectacular. I was hoping to see the rare Hooded Crane which has drawn birders from 41 states and 11 countries but it wasn’t there – it showed up about an hour after we left. (I did see a lone Ross Goose with the cranes – a life bird.)
The Hiwassee Wildlife Refuge is one of the largest sandhill crane staging areas in the east, second only to Jasper-Pulaski Fish and Wildlife Area in Indiana. Sandhill cranes to feed and rest as they migrate south to Georgia and Florida for the winter. As many as 10,000 may remain, over-wintering in Tennessee.
There were also several Bald Eagles along with Canada Geese, Great Blue Herons, and assorted gulls and ducks. A nice representation of casual and serious birders as well and lisence plates from all over.
The first photo and some of the text is from a wonderful local blog by Vickie Henderson – http://vickiehenderson.blogspot.com/
Also check out http://vtairstreaming.blogspot.com/ where we blog about our travels with the Airstream.
Having positioned the rig for a Saturday morning getaway, I slept poorly worrying about the driveway and finally, after solving the problems of the world, got up at 3:45 and turned on the coffee. We had received about 6 inches of new snow and I was out on the Kubota plowing at 5:00. Fortunately, the snow was light and easy to move.
Launching at 6:20 AM, we crept down the driveway in 4 WD and low gear. The Town had yet to plow the road but there were tracks from earlier vehicles and we made it to the highway without incident. Because of the weather, I decided to take the long way through Burlington and down Route 7. Traffic was light but it was cold – hanging at around 9 degrees for the first few hours.
After 11 hours or so, we pulled into a Walmart in Chambersburg, PA where we have overnighted before. It was a tough night, even though we were tired. It was Saturday night in farm country and every good ol’ boy ( or girl) with a tuned exhaust system seemed to drive by, with the engine revved up. The trailer was cold. Our one propane heater was cranking bit after a day of frigid temps, the Airstream held a lot of the cold. The dog was happy since the heater was at her end.
I slept well but Mary did not and we decided to start early again, leaving around 5 AM for a 600 mile drive. It’s nice to drive down I-81 early Sunday morning – very few trucks – and we had an easy time through the western tip of Maryland and into West Virginia. The ice and snow was still on the rig into Tennessee but finally, we saw 32 on the thermometer. Knoxville, usually a traffic hassle, was easy on a Sunday and mid-afternoon, we were finally on I-75 heading toward Chattanooga.
Last year, we stayed at another Walmart in Athens, TN but this year, I was aiming for Harrison Bay State Park where there was electricity and, as it touned out, water. After a last minute snag with MapQuest directions, we snaked our way through back roads to the park where a ranger with a wonderful Tennessee accent, told me to pick a spot and he’d come by to sign us up.
Only one section is open but there are only a handful of campers. It was great to settle in before dark, walk the dog, and get some exercise. We decided, since we like this place and its solitude (can’t imagine it in the summer), to stay for a while. Yesterday, I washed the salt and grit off the Airstream and we did some neat birding. No wifi around and weak 3G, but it is great to have the iPads along this trip.
Today, Tuesday, it’s raining pretty hard so we’ll take it easy and let the 50 degree rain wash the truck.
– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
“While most common songbirds migrate south for the winter, our part of the world is “south” for several birds of the far north. Snow buntings, common redpolls, and rough-legged hawks, among others, regularly move into our region in the winter months.
These northern visitors make cold-weather birding interesting, but one bird – the northern shrike – stands out because of its unusual hunting habits. The bird’s Latin name, Lanius excubitor (“watchful butcher”), gives some clue as to what comes next, but we’ll get to the gory details in a moment.
The shrike is an attractive bird, with grey on its head and back, a white chest and throat, black patches on its wings and tail, and a black mask-like band across its eyes. From a distance, you might mistake it for a blue jay.
But what makes the shrike notable is the fact that it’s a predatory songbird. Like hawks and owls, it hunts and kills for a living. But unlike most hawks and owls, the shrike is small – about the size of a robin – and unlike the raptors, it kills not with its talons, but with its sharp, notched beak….”
So writes Tom Slayton, editor emeritus of Vermont Life magazine and a Montpelier, VT freelance writer, in the online Outside Story of Northern Woodlands magazine. (Read the whole story)
Yesterday, with rain and snow in the forecast, I volunteered to drive Mary down to a doctors appointment at Dartmouth Hitchcock Med. Center in Hanover. (My truck has better tires.) As I often do when visiting an area with time to bird, I checked Birdseye for what folks had seen in the last few days. I saw Black Scoters listed for the Wilder Dam and since I have never seen them in Vermont or New Hampshire, thought I’d try to check them out.
After a drive in crappy weather, I dropped Mary and took the 20 minute drive up to the dam — where I had never been. I missed a detour and hit the Connecticut River at a park upstream, where I found a lot of juncos, sparrows, and a lot of cold rain. I backtracked, found the dam and noted from the truck window a raft of about 50 scoters on the water.
There was a local birder there and together we watched through rainy binoculars and scopes seeing all three types of scoters, a few buffleheads, and a couple of cormorants. The temperature was about 38 and the rain made it miserable, in spite of all the birds. I got back in the truck, warmed up my hands, email, finding this message from Chip of North Branch Nature Center:
Wrightsville Reservoir in Montpelier/Middlesex is often devoid of avian
life, but not this morning. A huge raft of approximately 200 Black Scoters
were the center feature. Mixed in were 4 White-winged Scoters and a small
group of 6 Surf Scoters, which mostly kept to themselves.And added bonus was a lone female Northern Pintail, which was associating
with a flock of 6 Common Mergansers.
Wrightsville is about a mile from my home and here I was 70 miles away! I picked up Mary and we drove home, hoping the birds would stick around. About noon, we showed up and the flock had diminished but there were still over 50 scoters there along with the lone Northern Pintail. It was a treat to share them with Mary as they paraded back and forth in the scope.
VTBird, our listserve, was alive with reports of huge rafts of scoters on bodies of water all over the upper half of the state — one veteran birder noted that: “I don’t recall Black Scoter numbers like these, including even wintering concentrations off the coast of Maine or at their favorite locations along coastal Rhode Island.”
I went down this morning and there were only two scoters left on the reservoir and most others reported few if any left after yesterday’s scoter fallout.
Just about when the leaf peepers begin flocking to the roadways to observe Vermont’s spectacular autumn foliage, an equally-enthusiastic set of nature lovers is trekking up the peaks to watch a different seasonal event: the fall migration of raptors. Also known as “birds of prey,” this majestic group includes the eagles, falcons, hawks, vultures, ospreys, and the less-familiar but no-less-impressive group called the harriers, of which North America has only one (the beautiful Northern Harrier). Perched on a mountain outcropping, one can predictably see large numbers of these birds as they make their way to southern climes.
Whether you’re a veteran bird-watcher or a novice, raptor-watching (usually referred to as “hawk-watching,” even though other types of raptors are included) is a great way to spend an autumn afternoon. One of its draws is that the birds are highly visible. Unlike the diminutive songbirds, which hop around incessantly and hide in dense shrubs, raptors are large, steady, and during migration, exposed. Also, because each group of raptors flies differently and has a distinctive shape, these birds are easy to tell apart. The peregrine falcon, for example, has long, pointed wings, which it flaps continuously for its fast, powered flight. In contrast, the bald eagle rarely flaps and its broad, sturdy wings make it look like a flying plank. At the popular hawk-watching sites, you’re likely to find fellow observers on the summit to help you with identification; learn the shapes and flight patterns of the major groups and you’ll be a hawk-watching maven in no time.
So when and where is a Vermonter to begin? The peak of fall raptor migration is from mid-September to early November; try going at different times of the season to see different species. The most popular hawk-watching sites in Vermont are Mount Philo, 15 miles south of Burlington, and Putney Mountain in the southeast corner of the state. Snake Mountain in Addison and Mount Ascutney in Windsor are also decent spots, as are Coon Mountain, just beyond the ferry terminal in Essex, New York, and Mount Tom in Massachusetts, straight down the Connecticut River from Brattleboro.
In addition to being a popular place for recreational hawk-watching, Putney Mountain is also an official migration monitoring site. Because raptor migration is predictable and easy to watch, people have been counting migrating raptors and recording their numbers since 1934, when the first official count site was established at Hawk Mountain Sanctuary in Pennsylvania. Since then, numerous similar counts have been established all over the globe, from the Panama Canal to the Strait of Gibraltar. The long-term migration data collected at these sites allow scientists to monitor raptor populations; numbers vary greatly from year to year, but over long periods of time, scientists can identify trends. The decline in juvenile Bald Eagles migrating past Hawk Mountain Sanctuary in the 1970s alerted Rachel Carson to the threat of DDT to these important predators, and she wrote about this trend in Silent Spring, the influential book which led to the ban of that harmful pesticide. Visit the Putney Mountain Hawk Watch just for fun, or participate in the count to play a role in history.
(read whole article from VTDigger.com)
This piece is by Emily Brodsky, a master’s candidate in the ecological planning program at the Rubenstein School of Environment and Natural Resources at The University of Vermont.
Just as the morning fog lifted, I headed out of the house into the woods on my first dog walk and no sooner had I got started, when the “Peabody, Peabody, Peabody” call of a White-throated Sparrow, rang out through the pines. Ah, what a great song to start the day.
We’ve been seeing more of these — they seem to migrate a little later than the warblers — and while they don’t sing as much as in springtime, they do chip and “zeet” a lot as they move around in small groups. I like them also because unlike warblers, who often are high in the trees flitting here and there, sparrows tend to stay low and even perch for a good look and photo.
Their song piercing through the morning air, is evocative. It reminds me of campfires, of hiking or paddling in remote areas, of the solitude of forests. We’ll have a few hanging around here this winter but most will head further south.
Speaking of which — as I moved along our trail, I heard a goose call high above. Shortly, I spotted an echelon of Canada Geese — about 70 of them — heading southwest. Every so often, one would call — sort of to keep cadence. They were moving fast – and have a long day ahead of them.
So, while the leaves are turning and dropping, the sounds of migrant birds accompanies the beautiful scenery. Vermont is open for foliage season — come on up.