horseshoe crab to go with 'a very large crow'

Here's the image that should have gone with the post.

ES

a very large crow

A large Osprey-sized bird flying up the creek this morning in the fog proved to be a very large crow. A large crow? Wait a moment...an Osprey-sized crow would be a Raven! Before I could confirm this exciting sighting (it would be a first for the property), it had vanished into the mist. Was I fooled by the well-known fact that objects appear larger in the mist than in real life? In fact, with Common Ravens nesting at the Hampton Bays water tower -- four miles or less to the east (as the raven flies, of course) -- seeing one here is no longer such an extraordinary possibility.

Otherwise it was a quiet morning with some calls and songs around the edges -- Yellow Warbler, Red-eyed Vireo, Chipping Sparrow, Great Crested Flycatcher -- to liven things up slightly. No Common Yellowthroat songs; where are these birds? Then the fog cleared, the weather changed dramatically, the tide dropped, and a Willet and a Great Egret dropped into the pond. The Egret didn't like me standing there and popped out almost as fast as he dropped in; but the Willet hung around to do his or her toilette. No sign of that stuck-in-the-mud turtle that I 'rescued' the other day so perhaps it was just zoning out by taking a mud bath.

Following yesterday's post about Horseshoe Crabs and birds at Pike's Beach, Ken Thompson sent me the attached photograph of a female laying eggs in the sand. Hope the SOFO program at Pike's on Saturday produces a bunch of these.

Eric Salzman

Pike's Beach

Having heard that there were Red Knots at Pike's Beach, I decided to take a ride down there this morning. Pike's Beach, Westhampton Dunes, has been the most dependable place on Eastern Long Island for Horseshoe Crabs; there is even a Horseshoe Crab Research Project by the Cornell Cooperative Extension located there (I saw their sign) and they are doing a program at Pike's Beach with SOFO on June 2nd. And as is well known, Horseshoe Crabs and Red Knots go together.

But are there Horseshoe Crabs? In contrast to previous years, I saw few signs of these ancient beasts (they go back 450 million years and they are being fished recklessly to local extinction because of New York's lax regulations and poor enforcement). Usually the beach here is littered with their shells which was not the case this morning. Perhaps the Cornell Research team is rescuing the lumbering beasts after they mate and bury their eggs on the shore. They are unbelievably easy to pick up when they come in to perform this ancient fertility ritual; how barbaric that we let 'fishermen', many of them from other states where this fishery is banned, come here and fill up their boats and trucks with the carcasses of the living animals as they try to avoid the Sixth Extinction!

But perhaps some Horseshoe Crabs made it through earlier in the month at the time of the Supermoon. For there were indeed Red Knots. I was at the overlook just west of Pike's Beach at about 7:30 am this morning. The tide was pretty high and the small island just off shore was swarming with shore birds: literally hundreds of Ruddy Turnstones and, yes, many dozens of Red Knots. At that hour, the overlook, which is in the middle of a wetland, was also swarming -- with no-see-ems and mosquitos; I finally beat a retreat to Pike's Beach itself which also had its share of shore birds including quite a few Knots. Finally, I went back to the overlook later in the morning as the insect populations diminished, the tide dropped, the exposed sand flats widened out and the birds continued to come in.

In addition to the Turnstones and Knots, there were many Black-bellied Plover, at least one Golden Plover (smaller, different coloration), Sanderlings, Semipalmated Sandpipers plus the local Willets, Piping Plover, and Am Oystercatchers. Also several Glossy Ibis on the island joining in the fun. All the birds were scattered across the island as well as along the shore, furiously poking into the sand, sometimes bunched up together and even squabbling with each other (Sanderlings seem especially argumentative). Is the attraction the Horseshoe Crab eggs buried in the sand?

In the air, there were Common and Least Terns and a trio of Forster's Terns as well. I saw just one Dunlin; along with the missing Least Sandpipers, Short-billed Dowitchers and Semipalmated Plovers, most of these birds have apparently already gone through. But it is amazing how many shore birds were still in action.

Eric Salzman

What do Glossy Ibis' eat?

It's taken me a few years to realize that we no longer have an oak woodland with some other species (hickories, Red and Norway Maples, Tupelo, Black Cherry, Pitch Pine, Red Cedar) thrown in. It has become a hickory woodland with the oaks and other species now playing a secondary role. This is less true in front of the house surrounding our open patch where the oaks still dominate and run down to the water. But everywhere else the hickories have, quietly and without arousing suspicions, grown up into a dominating position. They are strong vibrant trees which reach a good size and produce a lot of nuts. They have been much less affected by Hurricane Irene or, for that matter, by winter storms. In contrast, many of the oaks along the marsh edge and up the head of the marsh -- a low flowing stream bed that was severely invaded by salt water during last fall's big storm -- have been badly hit and are not coming back very strongly.

Did you ever stop and wonder to what use the Glossy Ibis puts its long, narrow, down-curved bill? Carl Safina sent me an astonishing photo of a Glossy Ibis with a Sheepshead Minnow in its grasp and, with his permission, I have attached it here!



Eric Salzman

clouds & mud

Another cloudy morning without a sunrise. Is all this a spin-off from the tropical storms further south? Blue skies later in the day but except for a single persistent love-lorn Titmouse, most of the activity was early. Equally persistent most of the day: bass thumping from some too-loud Memorial Day rock music (the music itself is, thankfully, inaudible, but the distant thump-thump-thump of the bass is unstoppable).

The morning birds: a Red-eyed Vireo that has been singing regularly from the oaks in past week or so; these birds nest in oak woods to the north but never seem to succeed down here. Maybe this time. Eastern Kingbird showed up and there was a Snowy Egret working the pond and the mid-marsh open area at low tide; oddly enough, these birds were both the firsts of their kind that I have seen on the place this year.

There was a live Box Turtle on one of the paths but, alas, another appeared to have gotten stuck sideways in the pond mud. I have seen turtles swimming in the pond but this one may have miscalculated in some fashion and appeared to have drowned. Since I had my boots on, I squshed through the mud and righted the poor thing but I don't think it survived.

Currently flowering: several fruit-bearing species of the rose family including Multiflora Rose, Rubus blackberries and Black Cherry.

Eric Salzman

A day at the beach

Great weather for a day at the beach.

Of course, for a birder, a day at the beach means a morning trip down Dune Road looking for shore birds and other denizens of the dunes, wetlands and water's edge. This morning was a SOFO 'walk' -- more of a drive with stops really -- starting at Shinnecock Inlet on the Ponquogue/Hampton Bays side and working along west to the East Quogue/Quogue area. The walk was led by Frank Quevedo, current president of SOFO (South Fork Natural History Society), and one of the participants was Jim Ash, former president of same. I was delighted to join in. The day started off and ended up sunny with clouds and a few drops of rain in between.

The bird list was not spectacular but there was a substantial list of local breeders and migrants including a number of Black-crowned Night-Herons, American Oystercatchers, Piping Plovers and Willets (the locals), plus Black-bellied and Semipalmated Plovers, Semipalmated Sandpipers, Sanderlings, Dunlin, Ruddy Turnstones (by far the most numerous shore bird), Greater Yellowlegs, a Short-billed Dowitcher or two, and a probable White-rumped Sandpiper (larger, darker, longer bill, streakier than its companions). No Least Sandpipers; apparently this sometimes abundant bird has already gone through. Many Common and Least Terns with a small group of Roseate Terns briefly seen by Jim. Several Osprey perched, flying, and sitting on a nest. At least one Glossy Ibis and two Great Blue Herons (uncommon at this season) along with many Great Egrets and a few Snowies. Clapper Rail heard calling but not seen.

In the dunes: singing Willow Flycatchers, Common Yellowthroats and Yellow Warblers. One large male Boat-tailed Grackle seen in the marsh grass. The best bird was a distant Sooty Shearwater seen by Jim on the ocean from Ponquogue Beach before the trip even started. Also, after everyone else had departed, a brief stop at the Quogue Wetlands Refuge produced more Willow Flycatchers, many Tree Swallows in the nest boxes, a pair of Eastern Towhees, and a single singing Seaside Sparrow.

There was a noticeable lack of Horseshoe Crabs; New York State is the only northeastern state that permits harvesting of the extraordinary animals and even those lax regulations are essentially ignored. As a result, the great and ancient spring ritual of the Horseshoe Crab mating has essentially been wiped out in these parts and some of the shore birds -- notably the Red Knots -- which depend on Horseshoe Crab eggs have also disappeared. What a tragedy!

Eric Salzman

Spider webs in the fog

There was moonlight last night but the fog rolled back in this morning as heavy as ever. One thing that the fog does for natural history study is that it reveals the sheer number and variety of spiders in the neighborhood. It does this by coating the spider webs with droplets of moisture, turning them into jewel display cases and revealing their structure. There are a few of the classic orb webs. Another kind of web is a mat of spider silk on the ground -- spread out over a patch of grass or even on top of some hurricane debris. In the marsh, hundreds of the dead tips of last year's High Tide Bush (Baccharis or Iva) are crowned by a cocoon-shaped web. And all along the paths through the marsh there are trap lines -- either the foundations for a new webs or simply spider transportation from one side of the path to the other!

The heaviness of the atmosphere is not encouraging to the Purple Martins who make a lot of noise, as if discussing whether to bother to head out looking for insects; a few Barn Swallows are out scouting low over the reeds. I can hear a couple of desultory Yellow Warbler and Yellowthroat songs proving that these birds are still around (although, to my ear, they do not sound very enthusiastic and they soon quiet down). An Eastern Wood-pewee and a Red-eyed Vireo are calling/singing high in the oaks; this is a bird that breeds in the woods to the north but is only a visitor down here and again I hear it well enough but cannot find it in the misty glare. Sound travels well in the mist even as visibility is reduced to a few feet.

The air over the creek is a thick miasma but there are Least Terns venturing in and out; I suspect that in this light -- sort of a perpetual twilight -- their fishy prey might remain near the surface. Overhead something is calling loudly but I don't recognize the call and the caller is entirely invisible in the mist. Only by mid-morning, as the fog lifts, does the air traffic over the creek pick up. Now there are Common Terns and a Laughing Gull along with the Least Terns. Little by little the sun cuts through, the warblers and vireo resume singing, and midday turns out to be a mild summery day.

Eric Salzman

Blackpoll Warblers

It's not the most colorful of the tribe -- black and white essentially -- and it has the dinkiest little song, nothing more than a distant, barely audible lisp. But it marks the turn of the season. The appearance of Blackpoll Warblers traditionally heralds the final phase of spring warbler migration. This morning was the first time this year that I heard the insect-like buzz trailing off somewhere in the treetops and eventually I was able to locate a couple of the birds, barely visible against the white glare that constitutes our skies these days. May is about to turn into June, spring into summer.

It actually wasn't the only warbler around. Pine Warbler, after a couple of weeks of absence, has returned to trill its way through the woods. And there are still some Yellow Warblers in the vicinity. Common Yellowthroat has stopped singing although I did see a single female yesterday. Will the males resume when the weather warms up and is more to their liking?

A Red-eyed Vireo or two is still offering its endless strings of questions and answers somewhere in the oaks. And a couple of Cedar Waxwings are putting the lie to the convention that you never see one or two waxwings but always a flock.

Identified a new mushroom. Pluteus cervinus has white gills but pink spores and is reputed to be edible. I didn't try to eat it since there were a couple of anomalies. Most of the specimens had whitish caps rather than the fawn color that is supposed to mark the species. Also Entolomas also have pink spores and can be quite poisonous so it didn't seem worth testing out the accuracy of my diagnosis (although I'm pretty sure that I got it right).

I did also find two of the more familiar Agaricus arvensis, big and meaty 'Horse Mushrooms', also with white gills but with darker spores that eventually turn the gills a dark purply chocolate. I was certain of this diagnosis so I did cook them up with the bulbs of some wild onions (Allium) in a little butter and oil; delicious! This seems quite early for both species; we don't see many mushrooms at this time of year and, alas, the delicious Morel esculenta, the classic May mushroom, does not seem to occur here at all.

Eric Salzman

Dune Road and Wren Roulades

I was in Southampton yesterday and drove back via Ponquogue (to buy fish) and Dune Road (to 'scout' for Sunday's SOFO trip being led by Frank Quevedo). Common Terns were active along with Least Terns (although neither species seems to have settled down to nesting activity). The only shore bird that was really prominent was the inevitable Willet but there were scattered Piping Plovers, several pairs of American Oystercatchers, a few Osprey in the air and perched, and a sampling of migrants: Black-bellied Plover, Dunlin, Least and Semipalmated Sandpipers, Ruddy Turnstones, a dowitcher or two, a few Sanderlings. Quite a few Tree Swallows along with the expected Barn Swallows

This morning's fog was even heavier than yesterday's -- couldn't see the other side of the creek -- and it didn't lift very much until midday and then only to turn into a rather dour overcast. The biggest excitement of the morning was a singing duel between two Carolina Wrens, a duel over territory I would imagine. They were on opposite sides of our driveway -- a wooded spot not a paved, landscaped entrance to the property -- and one of the wrens seemed to me a clear winner. His opponent eventually gave up while the victor continued to celebrate his triumph with a whole series of Wren Roulades from a branch right over the driveway and then from a couple of peripheral spots. I suspect that there are already young Carolinas around but the only young birds that I have been able to securely identify so far are Starlings; both these birds winter here and get an early start on raising a family.

Eric Salzman

fog cleared, birds appeared

Just when I thought migration was over, the fog cleared and birds appeared. This morning's yard list included American Redstart, Magnolia and Canada Warblers as well as Yellow and Yellowthroat; at least one singing Rose-breasted Grosbeak and Red-eyed Vireos seemingly in every tree. Also a half a dozen or more Chimney Swifts twittering over the marsh with the Purple Martins and Barn Swallows.

If things were this active down here, I thought, there'll be still more going on upland at Maple Swamp. In fact, except for one Canada Warbler, all the birds there were local nesters: Ovenbird, Pine and Blue-wing Warblers, Warbling and Red-eyed Vireos, Orchard and Baltimore Orioles, Scarlet Tanager singing away the whole time, the usual flycatchers, Wood Duck and a very annoyed Green Heron in a wooded pond. Oh yes, a big ol' Snapping Turtle blocking the path (I did manage to get around her unharmed; I think she was more interested in finding a safe place to lay her eggs than in making trouble for a passer-by). Various spring wildflowers including the fragile Frostweed and Blue-eyed Grass.

Eric Salzman

damp day

What do the Purple Martins do on a day like this: cool, overcast, rainy, few or no insects? Some of the Martins are huddled on top of the hanging gourds that serve as their nest boxes; the rest must be inside, perhaps sitting on eggs. Apparently they (and, presumably, other swallows) have the ability to go into a sort of torpor and shut down their energy systems for a day or two -- a kind of temporary hibernation during bad weather famine. I wonder how long they can go like this without refueling.

As the vegetable world leafs out, the after effects of Hurricane Irene become more evident. The most obvious damage was caused by a couple of Pitch Pines which literally pitched over, taking some of the surrounding vegetation along with them on their fall. But now it is becoming clear that many of the oaks and some of the Red Maples on the outer edge and also along the narrow upper part of the marsh also suffered; many of them are dead and some only show some weak signs of life with a few leafy branches only; they were apparently killed or badly wounded by the salt water intrusion at the roots or the heavy salt-laden winds which coated their leaves. Interestingly enough, the Red Cedars (or Virginia Junipers as they should be called) survived quite well along with most of the Tupelos which are now, a little behind everyone else, greening up. The Tupelos and Locusts are always among the latest trees to leaf out. It will be interesting to watch what happens with these edge areas as they recover.

Eric Salzman

gloomy morning with flowers

gloomy morning with flowers

It was a gloomy, overcast, foggy morning. With all the reports about the health of the western half of Shinnecock Bay, I was rather alarmed to see green algae and suspicious-looking white foam in the pond this morning. However on looking back through old records, I see that both the algae and the foam have appeared every year -- usually around the time (or slightly thereafter) of the Pitch Pine pollen. The tide was low but coming in fast and there were no birds in the pond but, curiously, a couple of thin whistles in my ear, turned out to be a pair of Cedar Waxwings sitting right over my head on a bare branch. Cedar Waxwings are notable for their late nesting habits but perhaps, like everything else this year, they are getting an early start. A flying apparition appearing overhead out of the mist and then disappearing back into the miasma was an unlikely Great Blue Heron -- unlikely for this time of year when most of the local Great Blues have gone north to breed.

On an incoming tide, the open area in the middle of the marsh takes longer to fill up than the pond. Thanks to Hurricane Irene (or subsequent high tides), I can now walk a wooden plank that takes me right to the edge of the open water and mud flats, a perch from which I can look for those otherwise well-hidden marsh birds. Straining to see what I could see, I was moving right to the edge of the plank when it tipped up and I stumbled backwards into the marsh grass. The noise and sudden movement kicked up a Green Heron, previously invisible in the grass.

I was worried that Hurricane Irene, which caused so much damage near the shore, had obliterated our small stand of Starflower so I was happy to see a few of the seven-pointed stars emerging from the grass. The big floral show though is the one currently being staged by the Big Leaf Magnolias. My neighbor calls it the Jurassic Park tree and in a way she's right. Magnolias are an ancient type of flowering plants; ancestor magnolias have been dated back as far as 95 million years (as far as I know, only the Gingko is older and it's not native). When magnolias appeared on the scene, there were no bees and to this day their flowers, which lack recognizable sepals or petals, are pollinated by beetles. Magnolia macrophylla is said to have the largest leaf and the largest flower of any North American plant -- big, white, floppy inflorescences lighting up the gloom. This plant is described as rare and even endangered in much of its southern range but it is doing just fine in a light woodland just off our backyard with a whole thicket of self-sprouting and flowering trees (see below).


Eric Salzman

Common or uncommon?

'Common' and 'uncommon' have to be relative terms. Yesterday, Eileen Schwinn was talking about the 'less common' of the night-herons. Of course, she meant the Yellow-crowned Night-Heron which I see almost every morning. Early this morning, with the tide still quite low, it was on the pond and even after the tide started to come back in, it hung around on the grassy edges of the far shore. The night-heron that I have yet to see this spring is the 'common' species, the Black-crowned.

Chipping Sparrows are, of course, common enough in most places but the pair I saw this morning -- the Johnny One-Note trilling away and his apparent partner, hanging around the pines by one of the right-of-ways, was the first I've seen around here this year.

And, while the Common Yellowthroat is, indeed, our most 'common' warbler I don't often get to see and hear its flight song. This is when it moves out of its low, bushy habitat and takes a perch out in the open on a bare tree branch and then launches itself straight up in the air with an elaborate twittering song. The first time I saw/heard this display, I didn't know what it was. Only on the descent -- as the bird reverts to its signature WEETCH-ity, WEECH-ity, WEECH -- does it reveal its 'Common' identity.

Least Sandpipers on a mudbank in the open area in the middle of the marsh. Osprey flying and calling; Least Terns again on the creek but where are the common Commons?

Eric Salzman

Fauna-thon Day

Group for the East End's annual Fauna-thon was today and since, as I suspect, most of the participants were active to the east, Eileen Schwinn and I decided to stick to the western part of the East End. We did a survey of three or four very attractive places in Riverhead Town starting with ex-Grumman in Calverton (also known as EPCAL), continuing on to some fields north of Route 25, the Boy Scout Camp in Baiting Hollow and the new North Fork Preserve outside of Jamesport. We missed a couple of good spots, notably the Bicycle Path area outside of Eastport (so we dipped on Blue Grosbeak as that is one of the few places to find this southern species).

The grasslands at EPCAL lived up to their reputation as outstanding habitat for some of the declining and difficult LI species: Grasshopper Sparrow, Field Sparrow, Eastern Meadowlark, Horned Lark, Prairie Warbler and American Kestrel; also (somewhat surprisingly) Orchard Oriole and (less surprisingly) Wild Turkey. The Boy Scout Camp and the beautiful North Fork Preserve showed us flycatchers (Eastern Phoebe, Eastern Wood-pewee, Great Crested and Willow Flycatcher), singing Wood Thrushes (not so common these days), Belted Kingfisher, the full collection of local woodpeckers (Downy, Hairy, Flicker, Red-bellied) and both Tufted Titmice and Black-capped Chickadees. Also Yellow Warbler, Common Yellowthroat, and Blue-winged Warbler; Least Tern over the water at the Boy Scout Camp and, at the Preserve, Northern Parula and American Redstart.

Two special birds at the Preserve, both likely breeders: White-eyed Vireo (two or three birds singing away) and Rose-breasted Grosbeak (also singing). A real surprise at the Preserve was a Broad-winged Hawk, started up from one of the paths; this is a species which used to nest in Long Island woodlands but has almost disappeared. An unusual observation at the Boy Scout Camp was of two Bank Swallows above the inlet tumbling 'round and 'round over each other in what was either a pitched battle or l'amour in a very unusual form!

The day ended at the opening of the new Visitor's Center at the Wertheim National Wildlife Refuge with several Osprey, a couple of Wood Ducks, a Glossy Ibis, several Pine Warblers and a rumor of a Bald Eagle, none of which could be counted (Wertheim is in Brookhaven Town and hence not part of the East End Fauna-thon). Ah, but we did have Wood Ducks at the North Fork Preserve and even an unlikely Greater Yellowlegs. Wertheim is the estuary of one of our major rivers; North Fork Preserve is a magical upland of wooded wetlands.

Eric Salzman

A mystery solved

For some time now, I have been wondering about the mussel shells that I find all the time under the trees, sometimes quite far from the water (but mostly under pines). The bivalve in question is the Ribbed Mussel which grows in the peat that accumulates in the more open areas of the marsh and often juts out into the shore, particularly where beach sand is washed away. When I was young, we used to have clambakes on the shore and toss these mussels into the mix; being a little muddy, they were perhaps not quite as tasty as the classic Blue Mussel but they were perfectly good. Subsequently I read, in some guide to 'life at the shore', that Ribbed Mussels were inedible but, fortunately, we didn't know that at the time and happily wolfed them down along with the half-baked potatoes, clams and crabs and, on occasion, lobster as well.

Obviously, we are not the only creatures who regard these shellfish as edible but who exactly is it that has been sharing our culinary tastes -- and leaving the evidence in the form of mussel shells scattered around the edge of the woods? Gulls dropping their prey from on high into the trees? That's what I first thought -- gulls feed on clams, crabs and, occasionally, mussels, on a local dock that juts out into the creek. But delivering mussel shells inside the woods is not a very likely gull strategy. My next idea was that Raccoons were responsible; they certainly forage at the shore and undoubtedly eat mussels. But do they actually haul them back to the woods?

This morning I heard a rapping, tapping sound coming from above my head. An American Crow, sitting on a branch of a pine tree, was holding down one of these bivalves, hacking it open, and stripping out the meat. Of course the shell dropper is the crow! I often see these birds dropping down to or up from the shore. Crows are smart. They have learned how to dig out these mussels from the mud banks and take them to a heavy pine branch where they can hack them open. Afterwards, of course, the shells come to litter the ground underneath. A mystery solved!

Eric Salzman

Fairy dust?

Green fairy dust everywhere: all over my wet boots this morning, covering the surface of the pond like pond scum, on all the windows of the car. As I drove down a narrow back road through the pine barrens, two police cars came barreling along in the opposite direction surrounded by a halo of green dust!

Fairy dust? Well, not quite. Pitch Pine pollen has suddenly matured and the onset of dryer weather and a good bit of wind have combined to circulate the stuff throughout the landscape -- even pollinating a few pines along the way. In fact, new pitch pines are sprouting in a lot of places where fire or insects have opened up the landscape and provided a perfect entry for these hardy trees to seed in. Judging by the proliferation of our signature tree and its pollen, I would say that our Pine Barrens will remain piney for a while yet.

I went into town yesterday and while I was waiting for the train at Speonk, I heard a fancy, not-quite-recognizable song from the vegetation opposite the station -- but with no chance to find out what it was. So I ran out this morning to try and refind it but, alas, without any luck. Being in the western part of Southampton Town, I went over to the Bald Hill Trail and Hunters Garden to see what I could locate. The dirt road to Hunters Garden has been closed off to vehicles by the county but, as it happened, the gate was open and I could drive in; the members of the Hunters Garden Association were busy setting up the May edition of their semi-annual Eel Chowder. In addition to the Chowder Hunters, most of the local Pine Barrens birds were present in both places (including, notably, Eastern Wood-Pewee, Veery, many Red-eyed Vireos and singing/calling Scarlet Tanager) but not a single migrant.

In fact, there was more unusual activity back home: four Least Sandpipers landing on the shore, Least Terns fishing in the creek, a Yellow-crowned Night-Heron flying overhead, Great Crested Flycatcher out flycatching and one of the great anomalies of nature, a single Cedar Waxwing. There were several warblers: Yellow, Common Yellowthroat, Black-and-white, Northern Parula, a singing Magnolia Warbler or two and one or two other unidentified treetoppers. Alas, before I could track 'em all down, I had to leave for a doctor's appointment and by the time I got back they had shut down or left the premises.

Eric Salzman

a turtle appears and a otter turns into a jpeg

I managed to get in an abbreviated walk this morning, dodging rain drops and leaf drips and accompanied by thunder rumbling to the south and heavy humidity -- some would call it fog -- over the land and sea. The highlight was the first box turtle of the year, a very dark individual with a strange pattern of orange 'footprint'-like markings across its carapace. Probably a recognizable and easily identifiable individual; I'll look for him again and maybe try to get a photo.

Flower report. Lily-of-the-valley is at (or even past) its peak. Blue Toadflax, a small, surprisingly exotic-looking blue flower (look closely) of sandy areas, is out. There are also numbers of very tiny white and/or yellow flowers that need to be investigated and identified -- probably with a magnifying glass.

Yellow Warbler singing away but not a peep from either of the Yellowthroats. Maybe they need to dry off.

Eric Salzman

P.S.: For some reason, when I fussed a little with Mike Bottini's remarkable self-photographed River Otter, it turned from jpeg to tiff which apparently some people have trouble with. So, thanks to Mike Cooper, I'm resending it as jpeg.

the photogenic mammal previously alluded to

This is the River Otter from Mike Bottini's trip camera at the Mashomack Preserve in Shelter Island (see previous post).

Eric Salzman

a witchity warbler and a photogenic mammal

A second singing Common Yellowthroat has appeared on the north side of our place with a distinctly different song -- two extra introductory notes (as in "whit-whit-WHEECH-ity-WHEECH-ity"). A visiting Blue-wing Warbler didn't stay long, singing from various perches around the head of the marsh before disappearing. There was a third warbler as well with an itty-bitty scratch of a song but it was high as well as high-pitched and it didn't stay long enough for me to get a good look.

We have several mammals in the vicinity. In addition to the expected deer and squirrels, I've seen a Cottontail Rabbit or two, a species that was formerly common here when the property was more open but is now making a bit of comeback around the edges of the woodlands. And we have a representative of the Cottontail's bitterest foe, the Red Fox. Neighbors tell me that the fox -- presumably the same one but perhaps a family of more than one animal -- has been here all winter. That may not be good news for the rabbits but, on the other hand, if the fox or foxes wipe out the cottontails, they will decimate their own food supply. So it goes.

Yesterday, I managed to conflate two of our best local naturalists, Steve Biasetti and Mike Bottini. It was Steve Biasetti who sent me the ID clues for the American Lady (not the mythical Mike Biasetti). Both gentlemen accepted my apologies very graciously and furthermore Mike sent me pictures of two rather unusual creatures from Eastern Long Island, both of which he found in the Mashomack Preserve on Shelter Island. One was an injured or ill Virginia Rail, a regular migrant on Long Island but still uncommon here as a nesting bird. Still more extraordinary was a photo of a River Otter taken by a River Otter! This was taken just a few days ago in that same area by a trip camera (see attached photo). Years ago, I saw a River Otter in the Peconic River (by an old mill dam in the Calverton area) and Lorna once saw one cavorting in Penny Pond, near the Flanders Bay/Hubbard Creek complex north of Hampton Bays. Mike thinks these were likely unmated individuals looking for love as neither of these locations have turned out to harbor breeding animals. Penny Pond is one of those supposedly bottomless ponds that has no visible input or output but, according to local folklore, it is part of the Connecticut River system flowing under L.I. Sound; obviously this otter had arrived via the subterranean route! Just a joke, of course. But in those days, 'otter' sightings were routinely dismissed; now, thanks in great part to the on-going work of Mike Bottini, we know that the River Otters are definitely here and breeding in small numbers on the North Shore of Nassau and western Suffolk and, on the East End, in Southhold and Shelter Island! Long Live the River Otter!

Eric Salzman

Two knowledgable correspondents, John Turner and Mike Biasetti, have written to point out that if you look at the left butterfly in Maria Daddino's garden (posted yesterday; but see today's inset) you can see a white spot on the yellow/orange just below the white-spotted black wing tips. The American Lady has this spot not the Painted Lady which is apparently the best way to separate the two when you can see only the upper wings.



Today's overcast weather did not bring in a lot of migrants but there were two flycatchers (Eastern Phoebe and Eastern Wood-pewee) and five warblers (Yellow, Yellow-throated, American Redstart, Black-and-white, and female Yellow-rumps). A couple of loons shooting across the white sky on a southwest-to-northeast track were seemingly Red-throated (smaller and very white underneath). The Yellowlegs in the open water in the middle of the pond posed the usual question: Greater or Lesser. I thought the bill was short and thin but the bird took off with a firm tew-tew-tew-tew -- supposedly more typical of the Greater.

Eric Salzman

The attached photo (taken in Maria Daddino's East Quogue garden) shows two of the three Vanessa butterflies feeding (or, as the butterfliers say, 'nectaring'). The one on the right is the Red Admiral; the one on the left, most likely Painted Lady (I say "most likely" because the similar American Painted Lady is most easily separated out with a good view of the large eye spots on the underside of its lower wing).

The big butterfly influx of the first part of the month seems to have died down, even as the weather has become sunnier and warmer (a little counter-intuitive I must say). Yesterday, however, I saw a Black Swallowtail land on a bit of grass right outside my porch window and proceed to sun itself for a few minutes. This is supposed to be a common garden butterfly but, probably because we don't garden, I have never seen it here before.

The Supermoon high tides of recent days have receded with the waning of the moon but extra low tides continue to attract waterbirds to the muddy edges of pond and creek. This morning's collection included Spotted Sandpiper (new for the season), Green Heron, Great Egret, Greater Yellowlegs, Willet, and Ring-billed Gull (apparently the same bird seen yesterday and possibly a 'second-cycle' bird -- and not a 'first-cycle' as I thought -- as it has a yellow tip to its banded bill). Also active in the area: Herring and Greater Black-backed Gulls, Belted Kingfisher, and Barn Swallows as well as Purple Martins (I didn't mention it before but Barn Swallows have appeared over the marsh in the past few days).

Carl Safina writes me that hundreds of Common Terns were on the ocean yesterday between Amagansett and Montauk whereas previously he had not seen one. They have been scarce here as well (one bird I saw earlier on Shinnecock was probably a Forster's Tern). However the Least Terns are here and they were on the creek again this morning.

The potential Bird of the Day (or Bird of the Month) was the one that got away. As I was trudging through the marsh, I popped a small one that scooted low and directly across an open wet area, quickly dropping straight down out-of-sight into the marsh grass where I couldn't get to it. I didn't even have time to get my binoculars up but I could see that it was tiny -- smaller I thought than a Saltmarsh Sparrow or Marsh Wren. That could have made it a Sedge Wren, a tough bird anywhere, anytime. Oh well.

Today's warblers: Black-and-white and Common Yellowthroat, both singing.

Eric Salzman

flutterbys

After my mention of the big influx of early-May butterflies last week, Kristine Wallstrom sent me a copy of a recent exchange between Rick Cech and other member/subscribers of NYS Butterflies. So I wrote to Rick (with whom I once birded Ecuador) and he suggested that Red Admirals were migrating from a variety of over-wintering sites and might even possibly overwinter at some more northerly sites in pupa form (also known as chrysalis or cocoon). He also suggested that the phenomenon may not be as rare or unusual as some people think; many butterflies, not only monarchs, fly south for the winter and north in the spring and sometimes in large numbers. However I do think the current influx is unusual for two reasons: one, that is has occurred so early in the spring (the first half of May) and the other that it appears to involve a number of species (although with Red Admirals in the lead).

The early butterfly out here is usually the Mourning Cloak, one of the rare butterflies which hibernates as an adult and hence is prone to reappear on the first warm days of spring. But I didn't even see one until yesterday when two of them appeared in the sunny, warm, whitewashed pocket between our porch and the barn; they were doing a spiraling aerial dance -- either love or war, I'm not sure which. At least one Mourning Cloak was still around today. The other butterflies that I've been able to ID in the mix have included Painted Lady (or American Painted Lady -- the main difference seems to be in the larger eye spots on the back of the hind wing but I don't always get a good view), Eastern Comma, and Spring Azure (the beautiful tiny blue that doesn't show the color when in perches with its wings closed). Also saw my first dragonfly of the season over the pond (against the morning sun; couldn't ID it).

Other firsts of the year: several Least Terns over the creek and a Yellow-crowned Night Heron hanging around the pond. Also, a young (first-cycle?) Ring-billed Gull (not many Ring-bills around at this time of the year). A handsome male Rose-breasted Grosbeak was in the upland oaks, easily findable by its sharp chip note and an occasional few notes of pretty grosbeak melody.

Eric Salzman

Sun, sun, sun

The sun came up this morning and shone in through our east-facing bedroom windows for the first time since we moved out at the end of April. Actually the sun's reappearance happened during the day yesterday and was accompanied by a new influx of butterflies (several species led by the Red Admirals) and the arrival of a handsome male Scarlet Tanager right in our backyard. Sunlight bouncing off the scarlet-and-black of a Scarlet Tanger perched out in the open on a branch of a big old hickory -- well birdwatching doesn't get much better than that.

The change in weather was also accompanied by some migration with a solitary Solitary Sandpiper feeding this morning in the neck of our pond and 10 species of warblers appearing here in East Quogue and in Maple Swamp a little to the north. This included the first Common Yellowthroats of the season singing away on the edge of our marsh, at least two Yellow Warblers singing in the trees around the head of the marsh plus a Black-throated Blue and Parula, also picked out by song. These same birds were also at Maple Swamp along with a Northern Waterthrush, American Redstart, Ovenbird, Blue-winged Warbler, Pine Warbler and several female Yellow-rumped Warbler -- all except the last-named singing away. 10 species of warblers is about average for a good warbler May day in these latter-day times.

Maple Swamp had a few surprises. The biggest one for me was the absolute absence of Wood Thrushes (usually a staple in these woods) and their replacement by at least two singing Hermit Thrushes! Could I have made a mistake? Thoreau famously confused the two songs which somewhat resemble each other. But no, these were classic Hermit Thrush songs beginning with a clear lower note followed by those heavenly ascending sound spirals. Hermits are common wintering birds but uncommon to rare nesters and they only sing their heavenly song on their nesting grounds.

A more difficult question was that of a distant singing sparrow with a song that started out with a trill followed by slurred notes and ending with another trill. The location was an open area whose trees were decimated by loopers two or three years ago (but not yet invaded by pitch pines) -- a possible 'woodland' location for a sparrow. The form of the song seemed to me to be that of Vesper but, on thinking about it, I have to say that it was much more likely a slightly 'off' Field Sparrow song.

There were lots of other birds, mostly settling in as breeders. At the open pond in the middle, there was a Chebec hunting insects. What is a Chebec, you ask? It's the alternate name (based on its call) for the Least Flycatcher, the most common of the empidonax flycatchers in migration and a potential breeder. Other flycatchers included a pair of Eastern Kingbirds chasing each other around over the pond, Great Crested Flycatchers everywhere and Eastern Phoebe near the road. Red-eyed Vireos were all over the place and singing vigorously and there was a singing Warbling Vireo in a wet spot near the horse pasture (where it had been a few days ago). Blue-gray Gnatcacher and Hairy Woodpecker are both probably already nesting. The only raptors seen were a couple of Turkey Vultures soaring overhead.

Eric Salzman

high tide & herons green

There must have one big high tide last night judging from the way tidal debris was moved around and also from the amount of water still on the upper marsh during low tide this morning (no doubt the amount of rainfall was also a factor). A pair of Green Herons flushed from the marsh, the first I've seen this year. Green Herons, which are highly migratory, are local nesters.

Otherwise fairly quiet as the rain finally dropped off and the sun came out. A Black-throated Blue, an amazing-looking little bird and always a favorite, was singing its buzzy little song inside the shrubbery and there's still a Yellow Warbler or two around. A pair of Osprey were circling and calling on the creek -- perhaps not the tenant holders of the Pine Neck nest (which I believe has a sitting bird). A third raptor over the creek was probably a Red-tailed Hawk and the same bird, or another of the same species, was mobbed by crows just a few minutes ago right outside the porch where I am writing this. I wonder if Red-tails could ever nest here; there's plenty of habitat and good nest trees but the crows and jays would undoubtedly conspire to drive them out.

Eric Salzman

P.S.: Lorna found an error in my Colombia trip account which states that on March 7 we drove 'south and east' into the Cauca Valley; it should have said "south and west" (the Cauca River separates the Central from the Western Cordillera in the Colombian Andes).

Maple Swamp washout

Alas, this morning's Maple Swamp walk was a washout. Even so, a short stroll around the neighborhood (up and down Pleasure Drive and on a couple of wet paths around the old horse pasture) produced a few things of note singing in the rain: Rose-breasted Grosbeak (a beauty but scarce locally), Blue-winged Warbler (no Lawrence's Warbler), an Eastern Phoebe (nesting in the old horse barn), several Baltimore Orioles and, notably, a Warbling Vireo. This last is a bird that disappeared from Long Island in the last century but has recently staged a comeback (nice to have some good news for a change, no?).

Eric Salzman

Supermoon

We finally got a spectacular glimpse of Supermoon last night as it rose above Dune Road on a clear evening. We've had gray skies the rest of the time since we came out on April 30. Supermoon has also been producing Supertides -- both high and low.

Yellow Warbler was singing away this morning at the head of the marsh but no sign or sound of Common Yellowthroat. Are they just not in yet? Or are they in but skulking and not yet singing (many birds arrive exhausted from migration and take a few days before they start sing and claim territory and a mate)?

Great Crested Flycatcher is here and singing -- if that's the word for its repeated 'wheep' sound and comic croaks. One reason I'm very fond of this big 'Myiarchus' flycatcher is that it is really an out-of-place tropical bird, the northernmost of its kind. There are a couple of other species in the southwest (a literally misguided Ash-throated Flycatcher occasionally turns up here) but most of the almost two dozen species are found only south of the border. In Colombia, where we were in March, there are no less than 10 species and, as is typical for Myiarchus, they all look quite a bit alike. Some of these birds, like our Great Crested, have a wide range. Others, like the Apical Flycatcher which we finally found after a long search, are restricted to a few valleys in the Colombia Andes.

May started out as a great month for the birds but migration has now seemingly ground to a halt. In contrast, I can't remember a better May for butterflies with a variety of species dominated by an extraordinary number of Vanessas -- mostly Red Admirals but also Painted Lady and/or American Painted Lady. Are these arriving migrants from the south? Vanessas are known to be major migrants (along with the Monarchs) but this was a mild winter and spring. Could they be starting to overwinter?

I'm doing a Maple Swamp walk tomorrow morning for ELIAS (Eastern Long Island Audubon Society). We meet at 8 am on Pleasure Drive c. 1/4 mile south (or southwest) of Route 24 on a pullout that leads to on old pasture on the east or southeast side of the road. Look for my Toyota Corolla which is covered with bumper stickers. All welcome (but take anti-tick precautions).

Eric Salzman

a warbler missed

Barbara Blaisdell found a Lawrence's Warbler yesterday at the head of the big pasture in back of SOFO (off the Bridgehampton/Sag Harbor Turnpike). As many of the readers of this blog know, Lawrence's Warbler in one of the hybrid forms of the cross between Blue-winged and Golden-winged Warblers (the other hybrid type is called Brewster's Warbler). Lawrence's Warbler is the rarer of the two (it is actually a backcross between Brewster's and one of the parent species -- or possibly the result of two Brewster's mating). At any rate, I didn't get over to SOFO yesterday (when the bird was seen by Jim Ash and a small troupe of local birders) but only this morning. Working the entire edge of the field from the LIRR tracks on the south all the way round to the greenbelt woods on the eastern and northern sides of the field, I heard and saw at least six different singing Blue-winged Warblers; one of them even had a slightly aberrant song with a low chip following the usual in-out wheezing 'song'. All these birds, including the three-note singer, looked like regular Blue-wings. Oh, well. It's not a zoo and birding wouldn't be any fun if you were always sure of getting the bird!

On the way back from Bridgehampton, we took the Dune Road route to get back home. Not very active, bird-wise, but there were Snowy Egrets with the Great Egrets (first Snowies of the season seen by me), some active Willets, a fishing Common Tern and another tern attacking a Snowy which looked to me like a Forster's (another southern species getting more common in these parts). Also Boat-tailed Grackles and sitting Osprey. The terns and the grackle were also season firsts for me.

Back at the ranch, there were two or three Yellow Warblers and a Greater Yellowlegs in the open water in the middle of the marsh. Also a regular male Belted Kingfisher patrolling the creek and even chasing away intruders. The lack of a female stirs hope that she is sitting somewhere in a sand bank on her eggs!

Eric Salzman

Birding Colombia

Today's post is my trip report from our three-week visit in March to the Colombian Andes. I've omitted the bird list which is big; I personally saw well over 400 species of birds, 65 of which occur only in these mountains (endemics or near-endemics) and 119 of which were life birds. If you want a copy of the bird list (with or without a few pictures) let me know.

March 2-March 22, 2012

Introduction

Most birders know that Colombia has the most diverse avifauna of any country in the world but until recently, hardly anyone dared to go there (and things did not always turn out well for the few that did go).

Colombia sits in the northwest corner of South America astride the northern Andes, attached to Central America via Panama (which, before the Canal, used to belong to Colombia). It has both Caribbean and Atlantic coasts, a large area of llanos (which is shares with Venezuela) and an even larger area in the Amazon basin (shared with Venezuela, Brazil, Peru and Ecuador). But the great centers of endemicism in Colombia are in the Andes.

How many species of birds are there in Colombia? The count keeps rising as new species are discovered or split off from old ones. The total also depends on who you listen to. A fairly conservative number (following the well-known Clements list, maintained by Cornell) is 1870+; the International Ornithological Committee (IOC) list, which I use, would be even higher; either way, Colombia is well ahead of its closest competitors, Peru and Brazil. The total includes an astonishing 70+ endemics (i.e. birds known only from Colombia) to which can be added several dozen more that are classified as ‘near-endemics’ or ‘restricted range’ species with distributions extending only somewhat into neighboring countries (not surprisingly, the distribution of living things depends on habitat not political boundaries). With such small ranges – sometimes restricted to a single forest or mountaintop – many of these birds are inevitably vulnerable, threatened or critically endangered by forest clearance, climate change, hunting (for the pot or the cage bird trade), and other causes. At least one Colombian species has apparently already crossed the line into extinction and others hover on the brink.

Fortunately, a major Colombian organization, ProAves, was founded almost fifteen years ago, in partnership with many local, national and international organizations in order to protect species through research, education and, above all, land protection. ProAves now operates an expanding series of preserves that, along with the Colombian National Park system and some watershed reserves, is protecting habitat for many key species, including many only recently discovered or re-discovered.

In spite of all this, birders (as well as other potential tourists) have stayed away from Colombia in droves. This is not surprising considering that Colombia has a long and violent history of internal conflict, exacerbated by political and drug wars. For years much of the countryside, including some of the best birding areas, was controlled by the FARC or Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia, an organization that may have started out with political aims but eventually descended into drug trafficking and kidnapping as a way of life. The wisdom of staying away from Colombia was notably demonstrated in 1998 when four American birders, two of them birding mates of ours, decided to go and look for the Cundinamarca Antbird (Grallaria kaestneri, discovered by and named for the American world birder Peter Kaestner, then the U.S. consul in Bogotá). The four got off the plane in Bogotá, rented a car and were driving to the area where the bird had been found a few years earlier when they ran into an armed contingent of FARC guerillas who held them for more than a month before they were released (at the time we gave interviews and produced photographs for the Colombian media to show that they really were birders and not CIA agents). Since then, however, a change in the Colombian government and vigorous political, police and military actions have cleared out or disarmed the FARC from all but the remote fringes and potentially opened up the country to tourism, eco- and otherwise.

In spite of its dark past, Colombia is now one of the most attractive destinations in Latin America. It is a lively, thriving place and, for the moment at least, quite non-touristy (hardly any English is spoken). In spite of this, it is a welcoming and relatively comfortable place to visit. Although there is certainly poverty, it is not as gritty as many developing countries; there are no beggars on the street and no crowds of small children following foreigners around. In fact, visitors are made to feel comfortable by the casual acceptance of the few (generally obvious) tourists that do turn up and by the fact that Colombians are very friendly people. They particularly like Americans since American money helped defeat the FARC, because there is a high level of American investment in the country, and because American conservation organizations have helped them buy up critical habitat and build lodges for birders and other ecotourists. Many of the leading bird tour companies are now sponsoring trips to find Colombian endemics. Most of these are organized by EcoTurs, a Colombian organization that teams with ProAves. For various reasons, we elected to go with Manu Expeditions led by Barry Walker. Manu was one of the first outside companies to return to Colombia and Barry led the first part of the trip himself with his associate, Fabrice Schmitt, taking over midway.

Exactly why the slopes of the Andes in Colombia (as well as in Ecuador and Peru) are so rich in species remains one of the great mysteries of ornithology. The number of restricted-area species, many limited to a single valley or small forest, is very high and is a major factor in making South American the ‘bird continent’, holding almost a third of the world’s birds (Colombia itself comes close to harboring a fifth of the world’s species).

The Colombian Andes divide into three ranges or cordilleras, separated by the valleys of the Magdalena and Cauca rivers. All three ranges attract moisture which forms clouds and cloud forests, and also produces heavy rainfall; the forests of the western cordillera in Colombia and northern Ecuador, known as the Chocó, are some of the wettest in the world. A very high percentage of the endless succession of streams and rivers eventually reach the Caribbean, most of them via the Magdalena River, one of the great waterways of South America and formerly a route for the Spanish connecting Nueva Granada (as Colombia was originally called) to Europe.

There are fifteen volcanoes in these mountains, some of them currently active. The slopes of the central and eastern Cordilleras go up to 18,000 feet and there is snow and ice in the upper reaches. Below that is the cold zone known as páramo which is vegetated and has many unique species. The zone between 15,500 and 6,500 feet is where most of the major towns and cities are located (Bogotá at 8,600 feet is one of the highest capital cities in the world) but also where most of the major forests are (or were) located. Clouds often sit on these slopes producing some of the most productive cloud forests in the world – at least where they have not been cleared for cattle or urban development. Coming down still further is the subtropical zone (6,500 down to 3,000 feet), also extensively cleared but with remnant rain forests. Below 3000 feet is the tierra caliente, the tropical lowlands through which the big rivers flow.

With the exception of the highest, we passed through and birded in all of these zones. Even though we had three weeks to reconnoiter, a great deal of time was spent merely getting from place to place, often on rough, curvy, semi- or un-paved mountain roads, sometimes in jeeps or other 4-wheel drive vehicles. Mostly we stayed in lodges (impeccably clean, generally comfortable with reasonably good food), sometimes in local hotels, almost always of decent quality.

Can this trip be done as do-it-yourself? It’s possible but you would need to rent a 4-wheel drive. Experience with bad mountain roads would be highly desirable and basic Spanish would be a necessity. Even so, a local guide or guides would be almost indispensable and you should probably start out by trying to arrange things with EcoTurs – just as almost all the bird tour companies do.



The Itinerary

Friday, March 2 & Saturday, March 3:

We flew non-stop from Newark, NJ, to Bogotá, on a 5½ hour Continental/United flight over the Caribbean. Bogotá is in the Eastern Cordillera some c. 8,600 above sea level; it is in the same time zone as New York and we arrived the same evening, staying in a hotel in the northern (and upscale) suburbs. We spent the next day in old Bogotá, visiting some of the striking colonial churches and various museums of local art and history, picking up a few typical city birds on the way (flocks of Brown-bellied Swallows were notable).

That evening we were joined at the hotel by Barry Walker, founder of Manu Expeditions, co-owner of the Manu Wildlife Center, and British Consul in Cuzco. The rest of our crew were birders from California and Florida. The group included Julian and Kathy Donahue; Julian is the former curator of Lepidoptera at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles and a secretary of The Lepidopterists’ Society as well as a birder with experience on several continents collecting insects and watching birds.

Sunday, March 4:

Morning in Chingaza National Park northeast of Bogotá in the Eastern Cordillera (unlike most of the Colombia Andes, most of this watershed runs east into the Orinoco Basin). The main access road was closed so we had to use a secondary road, reaching an elevation of c. 10,000 feet – essentially just the beginning of the páramo. In the afternoon, we visited lower elevations at La Calera (with a reservoir which provides much of Bogotá’s water) and the old gravel pits at Guasco which hold the endemic and endangered Bogotá Rail.

Monday, March 5:

Morning at La Florida Park on the outskirts of Bogotá. After lunch, we flew to the once notorious, bustling city of Medellin (former home base of Pablo Escobar) in the Central Cordillera where we were picked up by Yovanni and the Mercedes-Benz bus that accompanied us for most of the rest of our visit. A long drive on curvy mountain roads (the first of many) took us up the valley of the Rio Porce (a north-flowing tributary of the Cauca) to the Reserve of the Arrierito Antioqueño or Chestnut-capped Piha (the Spanish name, ‘Antioquenian Muleteer’, derives from the call of the bird which is said to resemble the muledriver’s whistle). Two nights at the lodge

Tuesday, March 6:

The Chestnut-capped Piha and Parker’s Antbird (named for the famous ornithologist, Ted Parker) are two recently described endemics found in this reserve along with many other birds. The lodge at this reserve has active feeders that attract many hummingbirds and tanagers. In contrast, the up-and-down forest trails here provide tough (but ultimately rewarding) birding.

Wednesday, March 7:

Back on the trails at Arrierito Antioqueño in the morning. Afterwards a long drive back along the Rio Porce Road, back through Medellin, then south and east into the Cauca Valley, across the River Cauca into the Western Cordillera, through the town of Bolivar and the small municipality of El Carmen del Atrato. The truck stop of El Cieto just beyond El Carmen marks the beginning of a rough road to the Pacific coast and we have to abandon the bus and switch to jeeps to negotiate it. The ProAves Reserve of Las Tangaras protects part of the watershed of the Rio Atrato, the major river of the Chocó (curiously enough, this north-flowing river does not go into the Pacific but hits the Caribbean at the Gulf of Darien right near northern border with Panama). Chocó is the name both of the province and the wet forest of the Western Cordillera, extending south to Ecuador, the very rainy bioregion that has one of the highest counts of endemics anywhere. The Las Tangaras Reserve was set up to preserve the habitat of several of these birds including the two endemic Bangsia tanagers – the Golden-ringed and the Black-and-Gold – as well as the Chocó Vireo and various other bird-watcher goodies such as the spectacular Toucan Barbet. Overnight in the Reserve lodge.

Thursday, March 8:

A successful morning on the trails in the Las Tangaras snares several of the endemics (including all of the above-named species) in a clamber over rocks and a waterfall that was highlighted by the surprise appearance of a large and noisy flock of Yellow-eared Parrots, yet another endangered endemic. We also tried hard for the Crested Ant Tanager but it never showed. You don’t win ‘em all.

In the afternoon, we drove back down through Ciudad Bolivar and, after a stop on a side road in the valley (to look, unsuccessfully, for two more endemics), we crossed from the Department of Chocó back into Antioquia and through a smiling mountain countryside to the charming old town of Jardin. Overnight at a small hotel right on the Central Plaza.

Friday, March 9:

The Yellow-eared Parrot Reserve (Reserva de Loro Orejiamarillo), above Jardin, is reached by jeep from the town. This reserve, perhaps the first to be purchased by ProAves (which uses a stylized representation of the parrot as its logo), protects one of the few remaining nesting areas for these critically endangered birds. The problem for these big parrots (they have long tails like macaws) has been the decimation of their unique nesting site, the Ceroxylon quindiuense or wax palm, which has been systematically cut down over the centuries for its leaves which are used in the traditional Palm Sunday celebrations of the Catholic populations in Colombia and Ecuador. ProAves has, with the cooperation of local political and ecclesiastical authorities, initiated major educational programs to change this tradition, protecting the palms and the birds as well. The habitat is cloud forest and, typically, a cloud was perched on the mountain during the time we were there. We saw palms and nest holes but only a single bird perched in the mist and fog (compared with the flock of two dozen seen the day before). There were active hummingbird feeders at the ranger station and one of the local rangers attempted (unsuccessfully) to lure out a calling Moustached Antipitta to his worm-feeding station. On the subsequent stroll down the hill, I got good look at a calling Chestnut-crowned Antpitta by lingering back from the group.

A morning rainstorm and a detour on the road to Concordia (a landslide, common in these mountains, closed the road) delayed us somewhat. Eventually we arrived at the town of Pereira in Colombia’s major coffee-growing region and then up to the Otun Quimbaya Reserve, arriving after dark. As we pulled in, the lights went out (electric lines down due to the storm perhaps) and we had to move to our rooms and sit down to dinner by candlelight; before long, however, the lodge generators kicked in and the lights came back on again.

Saturday, March 10:

Otun Quimbaya in the Central Cordillera is the site of the rediscovery of the Cauca Guan, previously thought to be extinct. These birds turned out to be easy to see in the forest here along with the many Red-rumped Fruitcrows that enlivened our morning walk. The forest here had singing Andean Solitaire and Chestnut-breasted Wren, two of the great songsters of the tropics. After lunch, to the bustling town of Manizales, considered the capital of this coffee-growing region. Our afternoon stop was an obscure place on the outskirts of town known as the Ecoparque Regionale Alcazares-Arenillo which was hard to find and turned out to be closed. Nevertheless, we are able to walk down an adjacent road whose slopes proved one of the birdiest locales of the entire trip. Here we find such endemic goodies as the goofy Bar-crested Antshrike and the tiny woodpecker known as the Grayish Piculet. Afterwards, back to Manizales for two nights in the Hotel Camelia.

Sunday, March 11:

Morning drive from Manizales to the Rio Blanco Watershed Preserve where we spend the day at elevations over 8000 feet. This mountain forest was preserved to protect the city water supply, but it is a wonderland of rare and difficult birds. There is a small lodge with terraces on two sides overlooking a flowery garden with hummingbird and banana feeders that attract many birds. In the forest, there are three ‘feeding stations’ for antpittas where worms are put out for these skulking birds. Until an Ecuadorian landowner named Angel Paz discovered that these birds could be attracted to worms, they were among the most difficult of forest birds to see! Thanks to the worm-feeding we saw no less than five species as well as other birds of the forest floor.

Monday, March 12:

Left Manizales to drive to the entrance of Los Nevados (or Nevado del Ruiz) National Park at close to 13,500 feet (the highest point of the trip) in very misty conditions. As we have ample opportunity to observe, clouds often sit on the Colombian mountain-tops and, in the highest areas, a unique flora and fauna has developed that is dependent on these conditions. The target bird here was the Bearded Helmetcrest, a striking hummer that is almost entirely restricted to areas of frailejon, a curious species of espeletia that is like a cross between a giant cactus and a daisy and found only in páramo. After a long search, a single female was found feeding behind the park buildings at the entrance. Tawny Antpittas were surprisingly tame here in the scrub vegetation along with mountain tanagers and other high altitude birds. Afterwards we drove over the Central Cordillera to the town of Libano where we stay in a strangely elegant hotel in its own compound with Blue-and-white Swallows drinking from the swimming pool, Rufous-tailed Hummingbirds and Saffron Finches in the gardens, a band playing Colombian music and no other visible guests. What is a hotel like this doing in a town like Libano? Hmmmmm.

Tuesday, March 13:

Morning in the fragmented forests above Libano; there are many good birds holding on in these remnant forests. A heavy rainstorm reminds us why the local vegetation is so lush. Surprisingly, it was the only time during the trip that our birdwatching was seriously impeded by the weather.

After lunch we drove down to the heat of the Magdalena Valley and on to something called El Palmar, Finca Agroturistica, off the main valley road. The parking area and main buildings of this strange establishment are full of birds – ducks, flamingos and even Laughing Gulls, all, alas, uncountable! We then climbed down a steep stone staircase to a more-or-less wooded gully dotted with weird statues of witches, sprites, mountain men and various mythological creatures, ending at yet another good-sized Colombian river whose name no one seemed to know. And, yes, there were excellent birds: Dwarf Cuckoo, Black-bellied Wren, the endemic Apical Flycatcher. What we could not find was the rare and endemic Velvet-fronted Euphonia but, as we climbed back up to the parking lot, our driver shows us a photograph that he had just taken of the bird! It is singing right in the vicinity of the parking lot and the call, duly recorded and played back, pulls in the male right to the sound of its own voice – and the female as well. The easiest and one of the best-seen birds of the trip!

The drive back up the highway goes past the smoking Nevada del Ruiz Volcano on the far side of the Los Nevados National Park. Our stop for the night is a faded, run-down hotel at Mariquita, the most tropical stop on our route.

Wednesday, March 14:

Morning is back up in the cooler mountains near La Victoria at the Bellavista Watershed Preserve at 3,000+ feet. The town, also known as Bojayá, was the site of one of the worst battles between the FARC and the illegal anti-insurgent paramilitaries formed to oppose them. During our little walk in the woods we find Sooty Ant-Tanager, Western Slaty Antshrike, and Citron-throated Toucans. We are also shown the place where the bodies of the dead insurgents (or was it the dead paramilitaries?) were buried. All this took place only ten years ago when this whole region was occupied by the FARC. Peaceful enough now.

Lunch at Puerto Boyaca overlooking the Magdelena River and then a drive to Puerto Pinzon through a strange area of low rounded hills separated by extensive wetlands (Northern Screamer, White-throated Crake). At Puerto Pinzon, we clamber onto the back of a truck for the bone-jarring quarter-of-an-hour ride to the El Paujil Reserve where we will spend two nights.

Thursday, March 15 & Friday, March 16

El Paujil is the Spanish name for the Blue-billed (sometimes called Blue-knobbed) Curassow and this reserve was created to protect one of the last populations of this critically endangered bird. We were told that we would have little chance of seeing one in the wild but, in fact, we saw a bird almost as soon as we crossed the river and got on the trail on the other side. As is the case with almost all the reserves that were created to protect endangered species, many other birds have benefitted as well including Gartered Trogon, four species of hermit hummingbirds, Barred Puffbird, Citron-throated Toucan, Black-billed Flycatcher, Southern Bentbill, and many others. This is also one of the few places where we find non-avian wildlife including three species of monkey, paca, iguana and basilisk.

Saturday, March 17:

We leave El Paujil in the morning to return to Puerto Pinzon and rejoin our driver and bus for the drive back to Puerto Boyaca. At a place called El Hato we are met by three 4-wheel drive vehicles for a long and jarring ride on rough mountain roads. This drive ends, surprisingly, in the good-sized mountain town of San Vicente de Chucuri above which, on a stone track back up into the mountains, lie the chocolate and coffee plantations surrounding the Reinito Cielo Azul or Cerulean Warbler Reserve. This was set up to preserve the wintering grounds of this threatened North American bird, a species that we never did see. The rooms of the comfortable lodge back up on a terrace that overlooks the gardens of the Reserve where there are hummingbird and banana feeders with many good birds. The forest is, as we will discover, rather far away.

Sunday, March 18:

The Langerke Trail was established by a German landowner more than a century ago to transport coffee and chocolate over the mountains. More recently, birders have been using horses to cover the lower part of the trail (which is completely cut over). Alas, the horses have been sold and there is no choice but to hike up the trail to reach good cloud forest habitat. As if to add to the difficulties, the forest part of the trail is difficult – mostly because of the slippery moss growing on the stones -- and the feeder that has been set up to attract Gorgeted Wood-quail shows only quail doves. However there were hummingbird feeders rife with Black Inca and a lot of other hummers as well. The climb to the top was not only difficult but also not very productive and some of us turned back before that lofty summit was attained (but saw Pavonine Cuckoo and Ochre-breasted Antpitta on the way down). The lodge garden has its charms however with several of the endemic Turquoise Dacnis high in the trees.

Monday, March 19:

Stops on the way back down from the Reinito Cielo Azul Reserve to San Vicente produce Nicoforo’s Wren (critically endangered) and the Yellow-browed Shrike-Vireo but not the Chestnut-bellied Hummingbird, a bad miss. Then back across the mountains to the highway heading north to Ocaña and a bout of heavy thunderstorms and torrential rains. This was, I assumed, only par for the course but later I found out that this area and this season in Colombia has been marked in recent years by heavy flooding and landslides due to La Niña. We made it through the storms without incident however. Ocaña is another one of Colombia’s surprising old colonial mountain towns, this one at 4,500 feet. We stay at a pleasant hotel right off the main square which has the remarkable distinction of being the first locale in Colombia where I saw and heard House Sparrow! It is also adjacent to the Hormiguero de Torcoroma (or Recurve-billed Bushbird) Reserve which is only twenty minutes away.

Tuesday, March 20:

The Recurve-billed Bushbird is a black antbird (hormiguero) with a curious upturned bill. It is a bamboo specialist but because all the bamboo in the reserve has died (massive die-offs of bamboo are normal for most species), the local ranger advises us that the birds have been heard in a different place than where they are normally found. He takes us to the spot and the birds respond to tape playback, coming into the vegetation just off the trail. We spend the day birding the trails, the local roads and the feeders at the ranger’s house where there are a nice collection of hummingbirds and tanagers. One last night in Ocaña.

Wednesday, March 21:

The group now splits in two with some going on to the Santa Marta extension (the isolated Santa Marta Mountains in the north have many endemics) and rest of us flying from the city of Bucaramanga to Bogotá. The drive to Bucaramanga takes us down into the valley and back up into the mountains, crossing the Rio Sogomosa and its huge, disruptive dam project, on the way. The pattern is by now familiar: a long drive on bad roads to a surprisingly large mountain town – Bucaramanga is actually a big city with a major airport on a piece of level ground high above the city. When we get there we are told that our reservation was for a flight from Santa Marta to Bogotá and not from Bucaramanga and, in any case, the Bogotá flight is already full. Ouch! After a harrowing wait, the airline agent reaches someone from EcoTurs who corrects the mistake and put us on a later flight. We spent our extra time waiting on a terrace overlooking a garden and the airport grounds, managing to enliven our enforced wait by finding some two-dozen species in the gardens and trees visible from the terrace (nothing new but, hey, you don’t expect to find so many species at an airport). Ecoturs made good on their mistake by making arrangements for us to be picked up at the Bogotá airport and even to buy us dinner at our hotel (not included in the original deal).

Thursday, March 22: Flight back to Newark on Continental/United.

[Bird list on request.]

slow-up

After a couple of good warbler days, things slowed up a bit -- perhaps affected by the fog that rolled in last night. I joined Eileen Schwinn and a group from Quogue at the Quogue Wildlife Refuge this morning for a pleasant foggy morning. Not quite birdless -- there were singing Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Eastern Towhees, Baltimore Orioles, House Wren, Common Yellowthroat, Pine Warbler and a few other warblers heard off in the misty distance. A Ruby-crowned Kinglet was present and there were at least three species of swallows -- Barn, Tree and Rough-winged -- over the pond. Back in East Quogue, there was a Black-throated Green Warbler, a Yellow and a Northern Parula but nothing like yesterday's level of activity.

"A View From Lazy Point" by Carl Safina, one of Eastern Long Island's best writers on natural history, biology and environment, has just won the Orion Magazine award for the best book of the year that addresses the relationship between humanity and nature. It deserves it! Lazy Point, if you didn't know, is just east of Amagansett between Napeague Harbor and Napeague Bay. Carl Safina, if you didn't know, is a biologist and environmentalist with a popular and poetic touch in his writings about the natural world and the human impact thereof.

Eric Salzman

Warblers, Red-wings & Ravens

There was a thunderstorm this morning and I had to deliver the car for inspection to the local repair shop so my morning walk was a bit on the late side. Even so there was a very respectable collection of warblers stopping by: several Parulas, two or three Black-and-white, at least two Nashvilles, Black-throated Green, Blue-wing, Blackburnian, Yellow, and Magnolia plus several singing Blue-headed Vireos (far more common so far this year than the Red-eyed!). Also the two oriole pairs, Baltimore and Orchard, still hanging out together -- perhaps the same birds seen yesterday although in a different spot. One of the Orchards looks like a first-year male but I wonder if Orchard females might not sometimes show some black on the face. Have to research this.

Catbirds have started to sing while the Cardinals and Carolina Wrens are relatively quiet -- probably because they already have young in the nest. Large silent V flocks moving southwest to northeast overhead were Double-crested Cormorants and not geese A couple of House Finches also showed up; this once-common bird is now rather uncommon after its populations were cut back by disease.

The early arrival of spring vegetation continues to astonish me. Is it due to climate change or does it have to do with the fact that this was one of the driest winters on record? The dogwoods are at least two (maybe three) weeks early as are the wistaria (or is it 'wisteria'?), violets, bush honeysuckle and lilac; the Norway maples are fully leafed out and the oaks and hickories are way ahead of schedule. It is, incidentally, the early flowering of the oaks that (probably) attracts the early movement of warblers which is shaping up as one of the warbler springs of recent years.

The ravens are back at the Hampton Bays water tower and their giant stick nest, pushed into some cabling on the left side of the water tower is visible from the entrance road. However the nest is high up and facing away from the road so it does not seem possible to see if the birds are sitting or if there is anything inside. The adults were seen walking around on the grassy lawn to the left and front of the tower.

Down at our pond, a violent rustling in the grass turned out to be two male Red-winged Blackbirds locked in a titanic struggle rolling over and over again on the ground. Only when a large simian approached them did they disengage and fly off.

Eric Salzman

Early spring in Maple Swamp

This has been a very early spring following on a dry, mild winter and nowhere is this more obvious than in Maple Swamp. The weather this morning was damp and the ground-water levels are strikingly low with pond and swamp levels looking like mid-summer. But plants are leafing out, violets, dogwood and oaks are in flower and the first signs of spring are abounding.

I went out this morning with Frank Quevedo, the director of the South Fork Natural History Museum and Nature Center (SOFO) and Barbara Blaisdell, board member and treasurer of same, and the place was quite bird-lively -- with both migrants moving through and residents on territory. The most common bird by far was (not surprisingly) the Myrtle Warbler, better known these days as the Yellow-rumped Warbler -- quite resplendent in its breeding plumages. But it was only one of a surprising 11 species of warbler, to wit: Nashville, Blue-winged, Northern Parula, Yellow, Black-throated Blue, Black-throated Green, Pine, Black-and-white, Common Yellowthroat and Ovenbirds, the last four locals singing on territory, the rest migrants moving on through. There were many White-throated Sparrows plus Chipping and I even caught a glimpse of a Swamp Sparrow as well a House Wren skulking in the underbrush. Catbirds have returned from their winter hiatus and are singing away; ditto, both orioles, Baltimore and Orchard as well as their less dramatic cousins, the Common Grackle, Red-wing Blackbird and, somewhat ominously, the squeaky Brown-headed Cowbird. In the flycatcher department: Eastern Phoebe and Great Crested but no Pewees or empids yet. There was only a single singing Wood Thrush and no noticeable Veeries at all. Lots of Tufted Titmice and Black-capped Chickadees plus two or three pairs of very vocal Hairy Woodpeckers, a few Downies, some Red-bellied and a single Flicker. The only vireos seen were Blue-headed (where are the Red-eyed?). An American Kestrel was a surprise sitting on the top of a dead stub in a wooded area. A pair of Red-tailed Hawks (more expected in an upland wooded area) were patrolling and there was at one gobbler a-gobbling (a.k.a. Wild Turkey).

Eric Salzman

a May migrant morning

May 2nd is an early date for May migrants in these parts but there was a strong movement last night and quite a few birds, many of them new for the season, hit the deck this morning. Among the notables were a pair of Baltimore Orioles (male & female), a pair of Orchard Orioles (adult male and a first-year male which I at first mistook for a female), a female Rose-breasted Grosbeak, and a dazzling male Scarlet Tanager. Also Great Crested Flycatcher, Gray Catbird, Red-eyed Vireo, Warbling Vireo and a number of warblers, not all identified (most were in the canopy in the emerging oak leaves and tassels, silhouetted against the glare of an overcast sky). Among those which I could pick out (or identify by sound) were a handsome Blackburnian, several Yellow-rumped Warblers, a Yellow, a Parula and a Pine.

A new Osprey platform has been erected on the Pine Neck shore directly opposite us but it is not yet occupied (the huge old nest is still visible in the distance where it stands in the Pine Neck marsh). There was at least one Osprey soaring overhead and a Red-tail Hawk--presumably the same one seen yesterday--was still in the neighborhood. The Purple Martins are beginning to claim their nesting sites and pair off (if they are not actually already paired) and there are a couple of swallows about (Tree and, I think, one or two Barns). Water birds included calling Willets, a number of Great Egrets, a Belted Kingfisher, and a small Greater Yellowlegs.

Eric Salzman

May Day! May Day!

May is here and we have moved out to our place in East Quogue. We actually moved yesterday and were pleased to see that everything is okay. The house is in good shape and, while the woods still show some of the after effects of Irene and the winter storms of a year or two earlier, the vegetation and the birds are definitely showing all the signs of this year's rebirth; in fact, I don't remember spring being ever so advanced out here as early as the end of April. Many flowers are in bloom including Periwinkle (almost gone!), Lily of the Valley (coming in strong), High-bush Blueberry as well as the various oaks and hickories. I didn't see many obvious long-distance migrants but there were two Purple Martins over the creek, a Baltimore Oriole calling somewhere, a Red-tailed Hawk in the trees and then soaring over the creek trying to avoid the dive-bomb attacks of a pair of crows. A very cheery sound was the fresh and vibrant trill of a very active Pine Warbler with as bright a yellow breast as I have ever seen on this species. Pine Warbler, which have nested here for several years, are a typical Pine Barrens species (yes, our place is really an outlier of the Pine Barrens) as well as a classic early arrival and hence one of our most dependable signs of spring!

Heavy rain and a touch of post-moving exhaustion kept me inside this morning but an early afternoon walk produced two more warblers (Yellow-rumped and Yellow), a singing Warbling Vireo, another singing Baltimore Oriole, quite a few White-throated Sparrows and a dozen or more Purple Martins all gathered at the hanging gourds that constitute their nesting colony. They seemed to be conveying the strong view that "It's good to be back" and it's a message we heartily agree with!

Eric Salzman