more on yesterday's Montauk visit

In addition to the vast numbers of Laughing Gulls present yesterday at Montauk Point (on Block Island Sound, east and south of the point itself and at Ditch Plains), Ted Floyd reports that there were still more of these birds birds on Lake Montauk. All in all, the numbers were easily in the range of five figures; i.e. 10,000+ birds. A significant phenomenon indeed, especially since we are dealing with an essentially (or perhaps one should say, originally) southern bird which has only colonized Long Island in relatively recent times and which, even today, only breeds as far east as Moriches Bay. Where do these birds come from and what causes them to congregate in such numbers? My guess is that these numbers result of from a dispersal of southern birds similar to the dispersal of Royal and Forster's Terns to the north. And, as with the terns, these birds travel along up and down (with their young) looking for schools of bait fish which are also moving along the coast. Since most of the local terns have moved south, the Bonaparte's Gulls have yet to appear and the larger gulls are too clumsy to catch fast-moving fish, there is an opportunity for these small and agile gulls.

Ted also saw large movements of Common Eiders in the afternoon suggesting that there are at least 250 birds of this species at or near the point. Even more extraordinary was his estimate of c. 500 Northern Gannets. Ted's final list also included Harlequin (a fly-by) and, at last, the Cory's Shearwater he searched for so assiduously. He also agreed that the jaeger we saw was a Parasitic. All in all, it was a big day with a total of 45 species.

Eric Salzmanmore 

a Laughing Gull Festival

Ted Floyd, the editor of BIRDING Magazine (a publication of the American Birding Association for which I do some writing and editing) was on Long Island and we agreed to meet early this morning at Montauk. Since Ted lives and works in Colorado Springs, Colorado, the ocean is a bit of an exotic locale for him (not that I get out to Montauk that often). I even tried to find some kind of ocean-going vessel from which he could bird-watch but birding pelagic trips are long over for the season and even the Montauk party fishing boats just go a few yards off the point these days. So we settled for the overlooks from the back of the restaurant (closed for the winter but with an open terrace that offers good views over Block Island Sound) and the cliffs at Camp Hero (with spectacular views over the Atlantic). We also stopped at Ditch Plains and at the entrance to Lake Montauk.

The reason the Montauk party fishing boats don't have to go far at this time of the year is the same reason that fisherman line the shore surfcasting on a windy, threatening Tuesday morning in late October: there are fish right off the point. And where they are fish, there are birds to catch them. Ironically, the birds and the larger fish (the ones the fisherfolk are trying to catch) are feeding on the same schools of bait fish. As is well known, fishermen on boats and on shore use the presence and location of fishing birds to decide where they should cast their lines.

When I say fishing birds, I mean lots of fishing birds. Most extraordinary were the numbers of Laughing Gulls around the point, literally thousands upon thousands of them feeding in ever-shifting patterns. The Laughing Gulls that were not already part of the feeding frenzy were winging their way towards the action, creating a scene that was constantly in motion, seemingly in every direction. Sometimes the birds were spread out but they would often coalesce into feeding flocks -- pods, hordes, vortices of birds twisting and turning, dipping and plucking at the lapping, cresting water in an extraordinary meeting of air and sea. Laughing Gulls are not rare or exotic birds -- they are the common summer gull in New York City waters -- but it was amazing to see them en masse, riding the wind and scraping the rolling surface of water roiled by the wind, currents, unseen fish and on-coming bad weather. 

The Laughing Gulls were not alone. They were accompanied by Herring Gulls -- mostly young birds -- and a very few Great Black-backed Gulls. Nearby were an exceptional number of Northern Gannets in all plumages (but dominated by adult birds), diving, resurfacing, digesting, taking flight again. The numbers and closeness of the Gannets hurtling out of the air into the water was also special and occasionally a Gannet would soar close to the cliffs on which we were standing, showing the blue bill, buffy head and neck, and enormous size of this sea bird. Gannets are as big or bigger than  albatrosses and, although their wingspan is somewhat less, they soar almost as effortlessly.

Just off shore, there were many hundreds of Common Eiders, also in all plumages. Further out  were long strings of Scoters, mostly Black but also including lesser numbers of Surf and White-winged Scoters. Other notables included both loons and a few Long-tailed Ducks. 

Our aim in visiting the point was to find pelagics and in this respect we did not do so well. We got a distant glimpse of one fast-moving jaeger, either a Pomarine or a Parasitic (the bird looked more like the former but the odds favor the latter this close to shore). A single Great Cormorant was sitting on the east jetty at the entrance to Montauk Harbor and, at Ditch Plains, we saw a few Sanderlings along with, yes, hundreds and thousands more Laughing Gulls.

Eric Salzman

Calverton in the fall

A good-sized feeding flock in the drizzle yesterday morning consisting of chickadees, titmice, many Golden-crowned Warblers, a Downy Woodpecker or two and a White-breasted Nuthatch; White-throated Sparrow, a pair of N Cardinals and Carolina Wrens also joined in. At one point, the birds seemed to coalesce around a predator of some sort and set up a raucous racket -- strong enough to attract Blue Jays to the site. The object of concern was in a extremely dense area of vegetation with a thick understory of bushes and vines surrounding some small trees. This is an area where there is often an uproar but it is impossible to see what is causing it. Since the birds were fairly low and the vegetation very dense, it is unlikely that a hawk or large owl is responsible and I can never see into the thicket well enough to pick out a small owl. A prowling cat is a possibility and, as I recently came to realize, so is a snake.

This morning was cloudy but as the northwest wind picked up , the sky cleared and it turned into a warm Indian summer day. I tagged along with a small group of new birdwatchers visiting Calverton (ex-Grumman or EPCAL) as I have rarely had a look at this magical site in the fall. There was a major dog-training operation in progress at Line Road, opposite the Grumman south fence, so we couldn't walk there but we managed to get inside the fence in a couple of spots -- both on foot and in vehicles.

The entire area is quite beautiful at this time of the year, largely because of the Peconic River wetlands;  our best fall colors come from wetlands trees, shrubs and vines. It was also notable how many of the grassland breeding species were still present.

The only raptors seen were Red-tailed Hawk and American Kestrel. The Kestrel was seen catching insects right on one of the runways (the unused one it should be quickly added). There were, in fact, insects calling everywhere on this beautiful sunny fall day.

Other insect catchers were Eastern Phoebe and Eastern Bluebirds, both of which were working the southern fence leaping down from their fence perches to catch a bug flying by or on some of the ground. Flocks of Cedar Waxings and Yellow-rumped Warblers -- all in non-breeding plumage -- were eating the berries on the numerous Red Cedars sprouting up on open areas near the end of the unused runway. In the grassland proper, or at the edge of the runway, there were fair numbers of sparrows (Savannahs and Vesper were identifiable), a pair of Horned Larks and a few Eastern Meadowlarks flying up.

The Horned Larks were quite well-marked birds with a lot of yellow on the face which should make them the northern race (alpestris?) and therefore a different subspecies from the breeding race (the 'Prairie' Horned Warbler or praticola) which has much less yellow on the face and which is the breeding bird on Eastern LI (including these very same grasslands). A nice touch was the occasional bit of lark song that came from these birds.

Eric Salzman

a thrush rush

There were half a dozen Hermit Thrushes in the woods near the back of the house this morning, all of them grayish birds feeding on the ground, jumping up to a low perch with a 'chook' and  reddish tails a-wagging.

There was a big flock of Double-crested Cormorants moving high overhead but relatively few cormorants in the creek. A surprising sight was the overflight of a 'flock' of eight Great Blue Herons. A number of individuals of this species continue to frequent the marsh, the pond and Weesuck Creek edge. Ditto for Greater Yellowlegs, four of which appeared over the creek with one coming in to feed in the low water of the pond. A few Black Duck are interspersed with the Mallards. Back in the woods, there was a White-breasted Nuthatch, a couple of handsome Downy Woodpeckers (which appear to have molted into breeding plumage) and small numbers of Golden-crowned Kinglets.

The most unusual observation was early on when a low, short, buzzy call -- quite unfamiliar -- came from the far edge of the marsh by the creek. That part of the property is basically accessible only from Bay Avenue, a detour that offered plenty of time for the mystery caller to escape. Better luck next time!

Eric Salzman 

grackles & sparrows

At dawn this morning, a flock of many thousands of blackbirds -- most probably the same grackle flock seen (and heard) yesterday -- came overhead moving from the southwest across Weesuck Creek to the northeast. It took several minutes to get across; the numbers were probably into the five-figure range. They briefly settled on the other side of the creek (where they set up a racket) but eventually moved on. Not long after, a flock of hundreds of Red-winged Blackbirds came up from the reeds at the head of the marsh, also moving in the same direction.

Aside from a single Red-eyed Vireo and the by-now usual locals, the bird activity was not great. 

When Eileen Schwinn appeared to suggest a ride down to Dune Road, I instantly agreed. The objective was the area just to the east of Ponquogue Bridge. The parking lot, grassy edges and weedy dune vegetation attract birds and Eileen promised some notable members of the sparrow tribe. She was right. Besides the familiar Song, Swamp and White-throated Sparrows, there were White-crowned Sparrows (including at least one handsome adult), Chipping Sparrows, many Juncos and one Field Sparrow. Other birds on site included dozens, perhaps hundreds, of Yellow-Rumped Warblers, Golden-crowned Kinglets, a Flicker and a Catbird. Two falcons -- a probable Kestrel and a Merlin -- turned up to enliven the proceedings. 

I got an e-mail yesterday from Nick Hamblet (a Shelter Islander whose e-mail address is "birdsandbugs"} suggesting that the elevator insects I saw a couple of days ago dancing up and down in a beam of afternoon sunlight were most likely Dance Flies. He also mentions that they might have been Common Midges but I suspect that midges are quite a bit smaller than these bugs. Dance Flies look right. They are a large group of flies traditionally catalogued under the name empididae (a name that birders can love as their favorite little flycatchers are called "Empids") but now are more usually classified as hybotidae). There are a lot of species in this classification so it is difficult to say which ones I saw (or even which ones are likely to occur in our area) but as a group these flies are notable for their habit of catching other, smaller insects and wrapping them up as a gift for the females, a presentation that takes place during or just after the dancing display. 

Eric Salzman

Sunny day with Grackles

A mild, sunny day with grackles. A lot of grackles.

It was the sound of a great grackle assemblage that first attracted attention -- a kind of ominous distant rumble and cackle, like some strange giant Victorian piece of machinery installed somewhere across the creek and trying to power up. It was, in fact, many thousands of grackles, filling the reeds, bushes and trees on the opposite shore and holding a noisy confabulation that could be heard for miles around. Smaller groups would break off from the main body of grackledom and fly up the creek, then back again, then down the creek. Eventually the whole mass appeared to tumble over itself, moving bunch by bunch down the shore before eventually dispersing.

How many grackles? 5,000? 10,000? Impossible to say. There were a few fellow travellers in the flocks (starlings, a few crows and perhaps some Red-wings) but mostly it was just grackles.

Thousands of grackles but just a few loons -- perhaps two or three and, curiously, flying towards the northwest. Mild weather = reverse migration? I had just finished saying that I had not seen any loons flying over this season when a loon appeared in full flight overhead and then another. Just in the right place but headed the wrong way. Maybe they thought spring had arrived.

Other passersby in the sky: a lopsided V formation of Canada Geese and a few Tree Swallows.

The tide was coming in so it was not possible to spend too much time in the marsh but enough to establish the presence of sparrows -- including Saltmarsh Sparrow. Further towards the head of the marsh there was a Blue-headed Vireo, a couple of Eastern Phoebes, some Ruby-crowned Kinglets and a few Yellow-rumped Warblers. Further inland, a Hermit Thrush or two and some numbers of White-throated Sparrows.

Eric Salzman

P.S.: Yesterday's post was mainly about early morning but I also had an interesting early evening observation. As I was sitting and writing at the kitchen table, I could see an insect ballet lit up by the slanted rays of the setting sun coming through the trees. Right above the clump of vegetation just beyond our outdoor shower, there were perhaps two dozen insects fluttering straight up and down as if they were on a string being manipulated by a master puppeteer. The thin wings of these creatures fluttered white as they caught the sun's rays; for a moment I thought that they were bits of fluff -- perhaps from the Baccharis or Marsh Elder (whose seed plumes are starting to expand and scatter in the wind like dandelion or thistle). But no seed plumes scattering in the wind would travel straight up and down.. My next thought is that they were moths but, as far as I could see (they were in constant motion and hard to focus with or without the binoculars), they had elongated bodies (abdomens would be the proper term I imagine) like some kind of mayfly. Even when I ran outside right below their bush, I could not make out any more details. In fact, as these little creatures left their stage light one by one, they seemed to vanish altogether and I couldn't even find them on the leaves or branches of the bushes into which they seemed to disappear. The late afternoon sunlight and the opening above the bush provided the stage for this solemn dance display; otherwise these mites were invisible and anonymous.

an early morning apparition

It gets easier and easier to get down to the marsh before the day breaks (great expression especially if you assume that it's the sun that cracks open the day). My object in getting down there is partly to see the sunrise (we can't see sunsets from where we are perched because it is blocked by a heavy tree cover). Some migration mornings, you can actually see the birds coming in before or just at first light. And there's always the chance of catching the last bit of night action -- an owl hooting in the half light or a rail calling from the marsh. Well none of that happened this morning. There were six or eight ducks that flushed up from the pond -- Mallards probably mixed with a few Black Duck to judge by the quacking. But that was it. Or at least that seemed to be it when suddenly a dozen crows appeared out of nowhere cawing and chasing a raptor over the marsh. And what a raptor! It appeared twice as big as the crows, flapping majestically away from its tormentors and then smooth sailing on flat, glider wings with wingtips extended like slightly curled like fingers. It was, of course, an EAGLE. I am not yet clever enough to distinguish one eagle from the other by silhouette (as the bird glided in front of the not-quite-yet-risen sun, all I could see was an unmistakable eagle outline) but it was, by the odds, a Bald Eagle.

Dawn, it seems, is a great time to see raptors. They probably roost somewhere at the edge of the marsh -- on the ground? in a bush? in the trees? -- and they see me before I see it. They take off and the crows or jays spot them and come in hot pursuit. This season, besides the eagle, I've seen Northern Harrier and several accipiters all by the dawn's early light.

Not much else to report: D-c Cormorant swimming at the head of the pond (where the water exits from the marsh), a kingfisher or two, a few kinglets working the bushes, White-throated Sparrows -- most of them recent arrivals -- everywhere. After an eagle, everything else seems on a somewhat lesser plane.

Oh yes, flood tide was still quite high although not as much so as in the last few days.

Eric Salzman

-- 

flood tide

This morning's ultra-high tide (a 'spring' tide in the fall!) was augmented by the strong winds from the northeast. It overflowed the banks of the pond and upper edges of the marsh, covering all the trails around the marsh edge of the property. I did not feel like venturing out into the deep water even in boots so I had to retreat back to the woodland paths. But there were birds.

My first observation was in the dark when I went out to get the paper and found myself surrounded by chinking White-throated Sparrows. Although I have heard an occasional early White-throat in the past week or so, this was the first time they showed in numbers and they must have arrived last night. In fact, they did show themselves; for the first time this season, I actually saw birds of this feather -- all juveniles or alternately plumaged birds (i.e. without the striking black-and-white stripes).

A little later in the morning, a mixed feeding flock -- common as the weather turns cold -- came by our kitchen window and I ran outside to have a better look. It consisted of a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, a pair of Downy Woodpeckers, a White-breasted Nuthatch, at least half a dozen (perhaps more; they are almost impossible to see amidst the blowing leaves) Golden-crowned Warblers and a number of B-c Chickadees. Also a Flicker, some Robins, Blue Jays, a few Yellow-rumped Warblers, a couple of Hermit Thrushes (a bird that first appeared here a few days ago), Tufted Titmice (or that Titmouses?) and a lingering Brown Thrasher were in the neighborhood if not actually with the flock.

Some non-avian sighting of recent days include a new pine tree perch for Rocky Raccoon (a pitch pine covered with lots of vines in the woods near the town trail), a dead shrew on the old driveway, and several sluggish (from the cold no doubt) snakes of the local garter or ribbon variety.

Eric Salzman

P.S.: One more bird to add. As I was writing this by the kitchen window, a Winter Wren landed on the doorstep of the cottage (our former barn) and then worked its way along the ground at the edge of the building, investigating various nooks and crannies. Very easy to see right out the window. It then flew around the back of the house and reappeared out the opposite kitchen window on the fence of our outdoor shower where it posed prettily for a bit before diving into the nearby shrubbery where it could be seen poking around for a few minutes, stubby tail in full upright position all the while. We don't have feeders hanging outside the kitchen window but the sheltered area between the house and the cottage, and around the outside shower attracts insects and insect predators on a cold and windy day

more on the Orange-crowned Warbler

A few further thoughts about Wednesday's Orange-crowned Warbler (or Warblers; there were two sightings at two different spots). I have some old records for this species from late August and early September. But this bird is not an easy ID and all the reference books state flatly that this species does not appear before mid- or late September and all early records are suspect and probably referable to other Vermivora species (notably Tennessee Warbler). So I never actually counted it in my property lists. But Wednesday's birds were clearly first fall Vermivora warblers with gray heads, the appearance of spectacles (broken eye-ring combined with a white eyestripe that was strongest in front of the eye), mottled yellow below (lighter on the chin, lighter on the belly) with blurry streaking. I note that two Orange-crowns were reported from the Calvert Vaux park in Brooklyn, an area that -- like our East Quogue place -- looks out over a body of water towards the barrier beach. It was also striking that we had three of the four possible 'winter warblers' -- Orange-crowned, Palm and Yellow-rumped (the fourth, Pine Warbler, is a common local migrant and probably breeds on the property but I haven't seen around recently).

Yesterday morning, before the rain, was dry and cool and not very birdy. Even so, there were Cedar Waxwings in a Red Cedar (eating cedar berries no doubt), a Brown Creeper working its way around the trunk of a Pitch Pine (the first of the season in these parts), a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker working its way around a deciduous tree and substantial flocks of blackbirds -- Common Grackles and Red-winged Blackbirds -- noisily foraging in the neighborhood.

Eric Salzman

A New Bird

Wednesday, October 14

New birds appeared this cool sunny morning, the most notable of which was a Vermivora warbler (a very recognizable shape with short tail and short primary extension) seen twice -- two different birds or the same bird seen in two different places. Fall Vermivoras are not always the easiest to ID but this one had some distinctive features: a gray head with a (broken) eye-ring and a supercilium extending from the eye to the beak (giving the effect of spectacles), olive-brown back coloring with barely a trace of wing bars, mottled yellow underparts -- brighter on the undertail, whitish on the belly, yellowish on the breast and whitish on the chin -- with blurry streaking. It was feeding low in shrubs and bushes just off the trail between the taller vegetation and the marsh. It all adds up to an ORANGE-CROWNED WARBLER, the first secure identification of this bird on the property (which makes a total of 233 species to date).

Also seen: Palm Warbler (the first of the season for me) as well as the usual Yellowthroats and Yellow-rumps. Yellow-rumped and Palm Warblers along with the Orange-crown add up to a trio of 'late' warblers, eminently suitable for a sparkling and colorful late October morning.

Another first of the season was the appearance of several Hermit Thrushes at the edge of the marsh and also further inland in the woods. A anxious chatter of Blue Jays and other birds brought Hermit Thrush, Brown Thrasher and other birds to a potential crime scene. But what caused the fuss? An owl? A hawk? Likely a cat but none was in sight. Perhaps instead of the usual predatory bird or feline, it was the garter or ribbon snake, sunning itself in the driveway, that was the likely culprit.

A few other good birds on their way: a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Eastern Phoebes, Blue-headed Vireo and some Tree Swallows overhead. Shouldn't the main Tree Swallow migration already have passed by? These birds have been coming by in some numbers all through the past week.

A big footnote. Just as I was writing this sitting at the kitchen table, a movement out the window on my left caught my attention. It was a large raptor coming out of the woods and barreling toward the house. It lifted over the roof and, as I swiveled to look out the opposite window, I could see that it was a large, dark accipiter -- a Cooper's Hawk no doubt -- ducking under the trees and into the woods on the other side. Hope it didn't grab the Orange-crowned!

Eric Salzman

Cormorants and Phoebes

Cormorants continued to gather on Saturday with a raft of perhaps 1000 sitting in the bay just outside of Weesuck Creek in the bay and many birds flying up and down the creek). On Sunday morning there a flock of several hundred overhead moving to the southwest and birds roosting all over the docks on the creek. There were even cormorants swimming and fishing in our pond. But by this morning, they were mostly gone.

There was a lot of other activity Sunday morning, somewhat less this morning. On both mornings, migrants were still coming in at daybreak. The dominant bird is still Yellow-rumped Warbler but there were many Eastern Phoebes and both kinglets were present on both days in some numbers, Golden-crowned outnumbering the Ruby-crowned. In the birds-of-interest category, there was a probable (by sound) Red-breasted Nuthatch this morning, a Northern Harrier soaring along the shore at dawn on Sunday and an Eastern Towhee calling in the underbrush today. Blue Jays are everywhere and Eastern Phoebes were hunting right out the kitchen windows -- on all three exterior sides of the kitchen in fact. At one point, it was possible to sit at the kitchen table and see Phoebes hunting outside both windows and back door.

Eric Salzman

fighting Phoebes

With the winds from the southwest, the skies mostly overcast and the weather warm, there was little migration this morning but some of the birds that came in in the past few days are still around. The most notable sightings of this morning's walk were Black-throated Blue Warbler, Blue-headed Vireo, and lots of E. Phoebes (so many yesterday and today that they actually fight over the best insect-catching sites). Also at last one empid (possibly the same one seen yesterday). There are still quite a number of D-c Cormorants on the creek (although nothing like yesterday's incursion) as well as Greater Yellowlegs, Green Heron, several Great Blues and the usual egrets. There were at least half a dozen Osprey on the creek, at least one of which was flying off triumphantly with a good-sized fish in its talons. 

Orhan Birol reports a female or juvenile Yellow-headed Blackbird among a large flock of Red-wings, presumably on the creek by his house in Pine Neck opposite us. I plan to keep an eye open for this bird in case it decides to roost with the Red-wings on this side of Weesuck Creek.

Eric Salzman

A Phalacrocorax Phestival

An overcast morning and a slightly late start on the trail revealed a lot of birds coming in high, most of them seemingly overflying and heading further inland. The biggest event of the morning was, however, the appearance of 100s -- perhaps even low 1000s -- of Double-crested Cormorants. They were perched all over the docks and, in tight formations, filling the center of Weesuck Creek extending all the way past the boatyard to the upper (and invisible) portion of the creek.. When cormorants take off their tails typically splash in the water and as these flocks moved around, the noise of 100s of tails hitting the water sounded like dozens of outboard motors going off at once. Strangely enough, these birds did not appear to be fishing at all. They apparently interrupted their migration for a short rest stop on the way south and chose a protected harbor for their landing. Within an hour or so, at least half of the birds were on their way and the others left a little later.

Two medium shore birds on the pond edge: one familiar (Greater Yellowlegs) and one uncommon (Solitary Sandpiper). The Solitary can often be found on fresh water away from the shore but it turns up on our pond or marsh only occasionally. Also, a Snowy Egret has been hanging out at the head and/or mouth of the pond, also catching the little bait fish that come swimming up and back on the change of tide. Two Great Blue Herons continue to hang out and roost in the trees just back of the marsh.

Most of the song birds that put on the early morning flight show kept right on going. The best find was an empid at the head of the marsh. This small flycatcher of the notoriously difficult genus, Empidonax had prominent wingbars, a fair-sized eyering and an overall greenish-olive coloration -- a little too large, green and peak-capped for a Least, too eye-ringy for a Willow, and too white below for a Yellow-bellied. Among the Eastern empids, that would leave Acadian and Alder with not much to choose between them.

An even bigger puzzler was a small, white-breasted bird with a short tail, a seemingly black cap, no wing bars, and a small bill, in the same area as the empid. After a lot of hemming and hawing (some kind of warbler? a vireo?), I came to the conclusion that it was a Golden-crowned Kinglet and that the supposed black cap was in fact just the upper black stripe above the eye with the effect of a lighter white stripe underneath. Why the wing bars were invisible is more difficult to explain (blame it on excessive glare caused by the bright cloudy background).

There were other birds around including many Eastern Phoebes, Yellow-rumps and Yellowthroats, Eastern Towhee, Saltmarsh Sparrow (with most of the orange restricted to the head and therefore not a Nelson's), Song and Swamp Sparrows, etc. Tree Swallows continued to make their way in small numbers across the sky and there was an accipter (probable female Sharp-shinned) and a somewhat distant Peregrine making its way across the mouth of the creek and out along the bay shoreline.

Eric Salzman

windy

Yesterday's rain and the following change of weather suggested the possibility of more migration but, possibly due to the high winds yesterday and this morning, the results were meager. There was a flycatcher this morning that showed strong 'vest' markings on its breast -- i.e. dark sides with a white stripe down the middle -- and, for a moment, I thought it might be a Boreal Pewee -- better-known as the Olive-sided Flycatcher. However the bird in view was relatively small-looking with prominent wingbars and no sign of white elsewhere so I had to be satisfied with calling it an Eastern Wood-pewee. The other slightly out-of-the-ordinary sighting -- like the pewee, up at the head of the marsh -- was a Field Sparrow in the big tupelo. 

The only raptors riding the winds this morning were a couple of Osprey on the creek and a juvenile male Cooper's Hawk (medium size bird with a long tail rounded as the base and a largish head). Overhead there was a light but continuous movement of Tree Swallows and, at one point, four pointy-winged shorebirds, probably yellowlegs. The only other sign of migration was a fairly steady stream of Am Robins.

In the meanwhile, a pair (i.e. male and female) of dashing looking -- presumably freshly molted -- Red-bellied Woodpeckers have become very active, lending credence to my suspicion that our local year-round carpinteros -- like the owls and some other resident birds -- begin their courting activities in the fall.

Eric Salzman

just a-settin' by the pond

Our pond (which is often mentioned in this blog) is actually a widening out of the stream flow through the marsh and it empties out, through a narrow channel to the north, into Weesuck Creek. This is all tidal and has been so for many years (although the tides have increased noticeably in my lifetime and I can remember, when I was a child, that we had Rose Mallows and Red Maples all around the edges and Snapping Turtles living in the mud). One of my favorite pastimes has been to sit at the edge of the pond and observe what's going on  -- or at least it was until someone stole the chairs I had put at the raised edge. Now I have to stand quietly on a spot where it is possible to observe the bay, the lower creek, Pine Neck opposite, the pond itself (especially at low tide) and the surrounding vegetation. 

One of my original purposes in hanging out here was to watch raptor migration in the fall. At this time of year -- anywhere from late September, well into October -- it is possible to see raptors from this spot. All three common falcons and the two common accipiters turn up here -- the falcons flying directly across the mouth of the creek, the accipiters following the shores more closely. Also seen from here: N. Harrier, Turkey Vulture, Red-tailed Hawk and, on a few occasions, Bald Eagle. I have seen each of the following raptors one time only: Broad-winged Hawk, N. Goshawk and, rarest of all, Gyrfalcon. The hawk flights are, however, much diminished from years past and only a few raptors have been seen this year. Only the Osprey, which also breeds here, is still a common raptor migrant; some mornings there are 5 and 6 birds at a time circling the creek.

The other day, I was hanging out, waiting for the hawks to arrive, when a young Herring Gull came wheeling in and plopped down right in front of me. In spite of the fact, that Herring Gulls are plentiful on the creek, it is rare to see one land in the pond. He was pecking away at a large white blob in the water which, as I shortly discovered, was a huge fish head trailing shards of fishy flesh. What fish this was and how it lost its head (not to mentioned how the head ended up in the pond) are questions I cannot answer. The gull, if it knew anything, was gorging not talking.

I think I mentioned the other day that there was a male Downy Woodpecker making a hole in a dead tree stub not far from the pond edge (discovered because you could hear the rapping sounds of woodpecker excavation from the hanging-out spot). Well yesterday I heard the rap-rap-rap of woodpecker-operating-on-a-dead-stump and went over to have a look. The hole was still there but no sign of the woodpecker. Suddenly, the bird stuck his head out to fling out a few wood chips. This was repeated a few times and then he vanished back inside to resume his internal rapmaster operations. Will he manage to attract a female to this ideal, priced-to-go Hamptons woodpecker condo? Time will tell.

Eric Salzman

another flight

Another big flight of Yellow-rumped Warblers took place this morning at dawn with hundeds -- perhaps thousands -- of birds flying in across the marsh and from Shinnecock Bay. This time, instead of flying up the marsh (as they did yesterday), the birds came across the pond moving up along the portion of the property that borders Weesuck Creek, heading north/northwest. My guess is that these birds were moving along the barrier beach or even out in the ocean and when dawn arrived causing them to veer inland across the bay (or following the bay shoreline) to find nourishment as well as r&r. In any case, it was quite a spectacle.

It was, in fact, a gorgeous morning with clear skies, a moon just a day or two past full, a vivid red sunrise, almost no wind and temperatures just enough on the cool side to induce any self-respecting migrant to head south.

Mixed in with the Yellow-rumps (or left over from previous arrivals) were a number of birds including five other warbler species: Black-throated Blue, Blackpoll, N. Parula, American Redstart and Common Yellowthroat. Also Golden-crowned (not noted yesterday) as well as Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Eastern Phoebe, a steady stream of Tree Swallows overhead, Brown Thrasher, a flock of c. 50 Cedar Waxwings, many Swamp and Song Sparrows. The alarm 'chink' of a White-throated Sparrow was heard confirming the presence of that bird.

Eileen Schwinn miraculously spotted a Screech Owl roosting in a densely foliated portion of maple tree (the Blue Jays actually spotted it first and set up a racket but even so it seemed impossible to locate until she found it!). Last night there was a Great Horned Owl hooting right in front of the house as I walked the dog. So both our 'common' local owls are about.

Eric Salzman

100s of Yellow-rumps

ined the trees and bushes on the upper marsh all the way to the Tupelo trees at the top. For at least the first 20' after sunrise, the birds kept arriving in groups of one and two dozen. They were in constant motion, popping in and out of the foliage, eating Red Cedar berries, flycatching, chasing each other and generally doing all the things that Yellow-rumped Warblers do.

Accompanying them were more than a few Ruby-crowned Kinglets and at least one Black-throated Green Warbler (both first of the season around here) plus E. Phoebe, House Wren, Blue-headed and Red-eyed Vireos, N. Parulas and Indigo Buntings. Also small numbers of Tree Swallows moving overhead on a straight northeast to southwest orientation and at least one Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. Catbirds aplenty plus the familiar Flickers, Downy Woodpeckers, Robins, Chickadees, Blue Jays, Song and Swamp Sparrows, House and Goldfinches..

This burst of activity lasted perhaps an hour and then completely subsided. Where did everyone go? When there's a flight we often get a big show at sunrise and then everything disappears, perhaps disbursing into the interior.

Eric Salzman

yellowlegs feeding frenzy

I walked down to the pond yesterday afternoon. The rain had stopped, the tide was low and there were two Greater Yellowlegs right at the head of the pond so intent on their hunter/gatherer activities that they completely ignored me. As I walked away, I heard a yellowlegs call and thought  "Did they fly away when I turned my back? How odd!" So turned around and went back to the pond and discovered that three more Yellowlegs -- also Greaters -- had come in and all five were now busy working the bounty of the low water. They were wading deep and actually swimming as they spun around and dipped in like an odd collection of phalaropes; at first, I couldn't even see the yellow legs. They were working the deepest channel of water as it flowed out from the marsh toward Weesuck Creek and, although I could never actually see their prey, there was little doubt that they were catching tiny bait fish swimming out with the tide. The feeding frenzy continued as they worked their way, undoubtedly following the school of fish, from the head of the pond to the mouth. At this point, the remaining fish seem to have made it out to sea and the yellowlegs all relaxed, unfazed even by the appearance of a muskrat swimming quickly across to its underground burrow on the west side of the pond (it's not so common to see the muskrats in broad daylight although I suppose, with all the clouds, the daylight wasn't really so broad).

This morning there was a heavy fog sitting low on the creek and bay and the temperature had warmed up considerably. Not an obvious day for a major migration but the American Robins continued to arrive for at least an hour after sunrise (there was only a Flicker or two but, as usual, lots of noisy Blue Jays). Eileen Schwinn arrived shortly afterwards, hoping to find the Tennessee Warbler that she had missed the other day and, amazingly enough, the bird (or another one) appeared, hopping in front of us in the shrubbery at eye level and offering very decent looks. It was again an immature greenish bird with an eyebrow, faint wingbars, short tail and mottled yellow underparts (less yellow on the undertail coverts).

Other birds of note were a number of Yellow-rumped Warblers (the first real 'influx' of the season), Marsh Wren, a small flock of immature Cedar Waxwings and a handsome female Hairy Woodpecker. Sharp-eyed Eileen also spotted Rocky Raccoon (it really looked like our plump old bull raccoon) on a limb of a different pine tree from his sleeping spot of past years. This pine was covered with climbing vines and afforded him much better camouflage.

Eric Salzman

a 'new' warbler

This morning was calm and clear and birdy. A 'new' bird of note was a greenish, short-tailed warbler with a white eyebrow, a small sharp bill, very faint yellowish wingbars and mottled yellow underneath -- the very model of a first fall TENNESSEE WARBLER. 

The other birds of the morning were all species that have been seen in the last couple of days. In addition to the Tennessee, N. Parula, Blackpoll and quite a few Common Yellowthroats were seen. Other birds of note included the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (possibly the same bird seen yesterday) Eastern Phoebe, a couple of Marsh Wrens, Red-eyed and Blue-headed Vireos (one of which was actually singing). Brown Thrasher, Song and Swamp Sparrows and a few Royal Terns heading up the creek. Big flocks of Am Goldfinches and House Finches continued as did Flickers, Robins, Blue Jays and Chickadees.

Eric Salzman 

Y.B. Sapsucker & friends

The first Yellow-bellied Sapsucker of the season -- in these parts at least -- was the star of this morning's avian arrivals. Sticking mainly to Pitch Pines (which, as their name suggests, have plenty of sap), he worked his way over to the big old Rocky Raccoon/Great Horned Owl Pitch Pine which is henceforth also to be known as the Sapsucker Pitch Pine.

There was, all in all, a fair amount of activity with a Warbling Vireo joining the Red-eyed Vireos; Common Yellowthroat, Parulas, at least one Blackpoll Warbler and a likely Yellow-rumped Warbler; Eastern Phoebe; Brown Thrasher; and lots of the regulars: Chickadees and Titmice, Blue Jays, Catbirds, Robins, Flickers, Song and Swamp Sparrows, Goldfinches and House Finches.

The creek was quiet but as the tide dropped and fish started to jump, a few Royal Terns appeared along with Great Blue and Green Herons.

At least one fish may have jumped too far. There was a striped killifish -- possibly a Mummichog -- lying on the path. Unlike the Blue Crab that was running around on our front lawn a few weeks ago, it was fairly recently departed. It was not very far from the pond but I suspect he/she/it did not get there on its own steam but was probably dropped by the Kingfisher or one of the herons.

Another notable curiosity: a fresh-looking male Downy Woodpecker doggedly excavating a hole in a dead tree stump. Was he making a hole for a winter roost? Getting an early start on attracting a mate? Downies are year-round residents and it's not unknown for resident birds to start courting in the fall. Great Horned Owls certainly do and I suspect that Carolina Wrens may also do so. Why not Downy Woodpeckers?

Eric Salzman