another rail call and "Birding Manu"

Another early-morning rail call in the marsh -- this one quite different and probably due to a different species (I would guess Virginia Rail this time). In the spotted thrush department: a Swainson's Thrush. Also there are at least two Brown Thrashers around (okay, I know they're mimids, not thrushes, but they are spotted).

As I mentioned yesterday, I'm doing an illustrated talk on birds of Peru tomorrow evening, Monday, October 1st, at 7:15 at the Quogue Wildlife Refuge (for Eastern LI Audubon). It's called "Birding Manu" because it largely concerns a trip from arid heights of the Andes down to the Amazonian rainforest on the Mother of God River -- all on or on the edge of the magnificent Manu National Park! The "penguins to parrots" subtitle is justified because the first (and last) day of the trip was on the coast. You don't have to be a member of either ELIAS or the Refuge; the public is invited (to the talk, that is).

Eric Salzman

from Perguins to Parrots -- birding Peru

On Monday, I'm giving an illustrated talk for the Eastern Long Island Audubon Society (ELIAS) at the Quogue Refuge (7:15 pm) on "Birding Manu" -- mainly about birding in the huge Peruvian park which extends from the top of the Andes near Cuzco down into the Amazon rain forest. After a day on the Peruvian coast, the trip follows a dirt road that winds down the mountains from the arid upper slopes through dense cloud and rain forest and eventually ends at the Madre de Dios -- the Mother of God River! From here on, transportation is by boat or on foot with stops at the Cock of the Rock, Amazonia and Manu Wildlife Lodges. Open to the public!

Eric Salzman

yesterday was even better than I thought

Thursday was even a better day than yesterday's post ("hurricane ecology") might have indicated. After the post went out, Derek Rogers of the Nature Conservancy came over; he had been over at the Pine Neck preserve (directly opposite us) and wondered if he could see the Olive-sided Flycatcher from his side of the creek. I told him that it was a bit far but that, even if the chances of finding it at 5 pm in the afternoon were not great, he was welcome to stop by to look for it. Not only did we find the Olive-sided -- it was fly catching from the tip of the dead pine where Eileen Schwinn and I had originally found it on Wednesday -- but we also refound the Bald Eagle where I saw it on Wednesday: sitting on the Pine Neck Osprey nest eating something! Other birds seen on this short walk: Hairy Woodpecker, Brown Creeper, Red-breasted Nuthatch, Common Yellowthroat, Swamp Sparrow and the big Goldfinch flock with birds feeding on Pilewort and Iva fructescens (Marsh Elder) as well.

But that was not the biggest news of the day. Early yesterday morning, with heavy cloud cover extending the reign of night well into what should have been daylight, there were two calling rails in the marsh. These birds were quite well separated on opposite sides of the marsh and they were clearly calling to each other. The call was quite recognizable to me as something known as the Descending Cackle! Almost exactly 10 years ago, on October 15, 2002, I flushed Yellow Rails twice in two different parts of this marsh; in spite of the poor light I could see the white secondaries of these birds quite well. Both birds called quite distinctly as they dropped down into the marsh. I spent a lot of time searching for a recording of this call which I did not find. What I did discover however was the only true life history of this bird by one Phillip Scott Stahlheim. Stahlheim studied the biology of these elusive birds by a very simple method; he raised them in captivity! He was the one who discovered and named the Descending Cackle which he describes as a contact call; it is apparently used primarily during migration. While I can't be absolutely sure that there are no other rail species that use this call (I sloshed around the marsh, this time in vain, trying to flush something), I think it is quite likely that this shyest of birds was here once again. Right call and, give or take a couple of weeks, right time of year.

Eric Salzman

hurricane ecology

Bob Adamo came over this morning to look for the Philadelphia Vireo. We didn't find it but there was a quite a bit of bird activity, most of it concentrated at the head of the marsh. There is a flock of at least 50-60 American Goldfinches there and they appear to be feeding mainly on the Pilewort (Erechtites hieracifolia) which has sprung up all over the place in the wake of the devastation cause by last fall's hurricane (one of the alternate names for this plant is Fireweed but I now call it Hurricane Weed). The tiny seeds of this plant are attached to feathery plumes that are similar to the bird's favorite thistles. So there is a connection between Hurricane Irene and the current prevalence of goldfinches! I can take this one step further. There were two Merlins hunting amidst the goldfinches this morning -- no doubt attracted by the flock. At one point, the Merlins literally crossed paths -- one flying up the marsh and the other down. So hurricanes breed Merlins as well!

Also seen: an intriguing Empidonax with buffy wing bars working high in the woodland canopy surrounding the upper marsh; it was either an Acadian or a Yellow-bellied Flycatcher (the Empids most likely to be seen high up). The Olive-sided Flycatcher was seen for the second day in a row, hunting from high, exposed perches around the edge of the upper marsh area. Other birds seen for the second day in a row were Brown Creeper, Swamp Sparrow and Common Yellowthroat.

There's one mystery bird around: a rather large sparrowy type bird which is strikingly reddish in its plumage. Perhaps it is a Fox Sparrow but it does not appear to have the heavy reddish streaking/spotting on the upper breast that the Eastern or Taiga Fox Sparrow normally shows. I plan to search for it again and hope to get a better look.

Eric Salzman

out of the north

Eileen Schwinn came over this morning to help try and relocate some of yesterday's good birds (or find some new ones). The change in weather with strong, warm southwest winds was not promising. No Bald Eagles and no signs of a morning flight at all; in fact the first run along the edge of the marsh and the woods was extremely quiet. Further on, at the head of the marsh and beyond there were a few Am Goldfinches and Catbirds feeding on the Porcelain Berries which have spread all over the place in the wake of last fall's hurricane. And that was it . . . except that, all of a sudden, not one but two Brown Creepers appeared, the first of the season!

Nor was that the end of it. On the path to the water on the north side of the property, a stocky pewee type flycatcher was fly catching from a perch at the tip of a dead pine above the canopy. This bird, with its striking dark open vest, large size, short tail, heavy build, and large eye, was an Olive-sided Flycatcher, the northernmost of the widespread pewees (the alternate name for this bird is Boreal Pewee). I didn't see any sign of the white tufts that it sometimes shows but these are often hidden. I thought that this was a new bird for the place but I found a record of a spring migrant here in May, 2007. I'll settle for a first fall record.

We also refound the Philadelphia Vireo which was hanging with two Red-eyed Vireos in or near what appeared to be the same Chickadee flock. While the Chickadees and Red-breasted Nuthatches mainly work the pines and cedars, the vireos (both flavors) stick to the oaks and hickories (as does the White-breasted Nuthatch, also present). We did eventually lose the Philadelphia Vireo however and, when Mike Higgiston arrived to look for it, it was nowhere to be seen. By the way, just as the Olive-sided is the northernmost pewee, the Philadelphia is the northernmost vireo; not surprisingly, both are champion migrators!

Eric Salzman

two good birds (a big one and a little one)

The migration wave that was supposed to hit our shores yesterday (and didn't -- at least not at Montauk or East Quogue) arrived here this morning. It wasn't huge but the birds were mostly new for the season and they were clustered between the marsh and the east-facing woods -- the usual landing spot for incoming passerines. This small flight included some of the notable birds of autumn: Yellow-rumped Warbler, Western Palm Warbler (the brown version not the Yellow Palm previously seen), Common Yellowthroats (missing for the past few days so these were probably new arrivals), immature Eastern Phoebes (earlier Phoebes were adults) and Swamp Sparrows.

There were also two really first-class birds, a big one and a little charmer. The most stunning sight of the morning was the silhouette -- outlined against the rising sun -- of what could have only been an eagle being chased down the creek by an Osprey. Now the Osprey is a pretty big bird but it looked puny next to the eagle! The bigger bird wheeled at the tip of Pine Neck and disappeared around the corner. It ended up sitting on the now empty Pine Neck Osprey nest where it Bald Eagleness was clearly in evidence for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. Do Bald Eagles commandeer old Osprey nests for their own purposes?

The other bird was a Philadelphia Vireo in its attractive fall plumage -- bright yellow on the undertail coverts and very bright yellow on the throat and breast, fading out on the belly. It had the typical vireo white eyebrow beneath a gray cap shading off to olive-gray on the back with just a trace of a wingbar. I'm not sure if this bird came in on the morning flight or not; I found it later in the day when it was moving through the woods with a small flock of B-c Chickadees and feeding vigorous in the oaks and hickories. It's not a bird I see very often; the last one I saw here was nine years ago almost to the day (September 26, 2003).

Eric Salzman

a clutch and a cudgel

The weather patterns looked so promising yesterday that the SOFO top brass organized a trip to Montauk this morning to watch the migrants coming in. I  seriously considered going along but eventually decided not to go (it would have meant getting up at 5 am and we were out last night). In any case, if there was going to be a wave of migrants coming into Long Island, I wanted to be able to see it right here on Weesuck Creek in East Quogue.

Except there wasn't any. No wave at all. Lots of finches and Song Sparrows in the upper parts of the marsh, an American Redstart, a couple of Red-eyed Vireos, a Ruby-crowned Kinglet, lots of Red-breasted Nuthatches and a few White-breasted -- but they've all been here regularly in the past week or two.

I did find a clutch of crows down by the pond acting as though they were looking for trouble. They seem to like to gather there and I notice that there are holes in the pine duff, possibly made by the crows. I suspect the crows (and not Flickers which also make holes in the ground to find ants) are responsible and they often leave other traces of their presence behind. One of the crows had a small piece of vegetation in its beak and was flying around as though challenging the other crows to take it from him (or her). Another crow had a wooden stick with which it was apparently playing; it would hold it down with its talons against the branch on which it was standing and peck at it with its beak. Was there something to eat on this stick? Not likely. He (or she) would then pick it up in triumph in its beak, holding it straight out (not crosswise) by the knobby handle which he had seemingly created. A crow cudgel? Perhaps, but when the rest of the gang flew off, he dropped it and flew with the crowd. These crows are like a gang of teen-agers and they don't seem to be doing anything useful at all, just hanging out and playing games.

Eric Salzman

Fast changes and a bird burst

Fast changes this morning. It rained last night and there was a bird burst in the morning under uncertain skies. Then it got windy with a heavy cloud cover and a few sprinkles that seemed to presage heavy weather. But it was the edge of a front pushing through. The wind shifted to the north and the skies cleared.

The bird burst was a very active large flock moving along the woods and shrubs at the edge of the marsh. This was a bird wave dominated (as in the past few days) by the finches, Gold- and House, but also including Song Sparrows and one or two female (or immature) Indigo Buntings plus Red-breasted Nuthatches, a couple of Pine Warblers, Red-eyed Vireos, a Mockingbird, Mourning Doves, Downy and Red-bellied Woodpeckers, a Black-capped Chickadee or two. Unlike yesterday, there were hardly any Catbirds and virtually no Blue Jays or Robins to be seen.

With the change in the wind, I thought there might be hawks but my hawk-watching seat by the pond produced exactly one Osprey. Low tide in the pond attracted Green and Great Blue Herons (the smallest and the biggest of the herons) and a Greater Yellowlegs. I also got to see something that I hardly ever see: a Belted Kingfish catching a fish. A male Kingfisher landed on a dead stub and apparently, blocked by vegetation, he did not see me sitting close by. His attention was fixed on the pond. He dove into the water more or less in front of me, came out with a fish in his beak and flew back to his perch. I could watch him jiggling the fish in his beak to face his gullet so he could gulp it down. And gulp it down he did.

Eric Salzman

bird waves

I watched two good-sized flock of birds come in this morning. The first one, mostly in suburban vegetation on Weesuck Avenue, consisted almost entirely of common birds but in very high numbers: Gray Catbirds, Blue Jays, American Robins, Black-capped Chickadees and Song Sparrows all over the place plus a Winter Wren, a few Red-eyed Vireos, two young Baltimore Orioles, one or two White-breasted Nuthatches and a Northern Mockingbird. To what extent a wave like this consists of migrants from afar, birds from the area flocking up and/or local birds opportunistically joining in is impossible to say -- possibly a mixture of all three. But just because certain species are common and even year-rounders doesn't mean they aren't part of fall migration.

The second flock was in the Pitch Pines and adjacent vegetation between the house and the pond and was dominated by noisy Black-capped Chickadees and a number of Red-breasted Nuthatches but also included Red-eyed Vireo and Pine Warbler. Although most of them were high, there were a few birds lower down that seemed to be along for the ride: several active Eastern Phoebes and an extreme tail-wagger, the Palm Warbler. The latter was a specimen of the handsome Palm -- yellow all the way down to the undertail coverts and in striking contrast to the Pine Warbler which showed no yellow at all but a strikingly prominent eye ring. The Yellow Palm is the Eastern subspecies and it is supposed to migrate later than the very different Western Palm Warbler but this is the second one that I've seen this season.

Oh, yes, Happy Fall!

Eric Salzman

crossing the creek

In addition to the finches (Gold- and House), there are an extraordinary number of Blue Jays around, some of which at least must have come from elsewhere. There were numbers of Song Sparrows all along the edge of the marsh this morning although these birds had given up their territorial claims  weeks ago. Northern Flickers have been noticeably active and even seem to outnumber the Red-bellied Woodpeckers; where are they coming from? Although these are birds that we don't ordinarily think of as migrants (and they don't go to the tropics for the winter), they in fact move around a lot, sometimes traveling along the shore in big numbers. Even the Black-capped Chickadees are known to migrate south. Unless, we band individual birds, there is no way to know if the birds we see at this time of year or in the winter are the same birds that stay to breed in the spring.

There was a nice breeze on the creek and, as the sky cleared, it looked as though it might turn into a good hawk day. It didn't happen and I ended up mostly watching a local bayman -- one of the few left -- as he made his rounds on the creek baiting his traps. There were Osprey of course -- always between two and four individuals perched or flying on the creek plus a few high flyers who were probably migrants. There were two accipters, a Cooper's and a Sharp-shinned Hawk, neither one of which would fly directly across the creek. Accipiters in general and Sharp-shinned in particular don't like to cross bodies of water and many (if not most) of them seem to move up the creek to cross over at a narrower point (we're at the mouth of the creek where it's fairly wide).

Eric Salzman

finch feed

A Parula Warbler appeared this morning along with a Northern Waterthrush, Black-and-white Warbler, American Redstart, Common Yellowthroat and Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. Northern Mockingbirds have come over from Bay Avenue to investigate -- whatever it is that Northern Mockingbirds investigate. The reason there have been so many American Goldfinches around may be the huge number of Pileworts in seed; we don't have thistles or milkweed but we do have piles of Pilewort seeds attached to feathery plumes that are ready to be blowin' in the wind. And the Baccharis seeds, shortly to arrive, also have feathery plumes. It's all excellent finch feed.

Oh yes, Royal Terns on the creek and at least one Green Heron still in the area.

Eric Salzman

Our own Loch Ness Monster

The Loch Ness Monster that suddenly popped up on the pond this morning under my nose really startled me. It quickly took off; it was only a Double-crested Cormorant but it looked huge. I don't often see one that close. How did it get in the pond? It was high tide and it must have been swimming underwater; there are snappers and other fish that come into the pond at high tide. Apparently cormorants can swim good distances underwater. It must have entered the pond underwater; I never saw it dive.

The change in weather last night (high winds followed by some rain overnight) did not come in time to spark a big movement of birds last night but there were a few migrants around: American Redstart, Black-and-white Warbler, Common Yellowthroat, a Traill's-type flycatcher with a narrow eyering (probably a Willow) and, most impressively, a big accipiter in immature plumage sitting quietly in a tree just off the outer trail. It only flew at the very last minute when I was almost upon it. It was a Cooper's on size alone but the ID was confirmed by the squarish head, the amount of white below and the rounded tail. Sometimes you really can tell, especially if you can get that close. As with the cormorant, I don't usually get that close to big raptors.

A good-sized dragonfly with a yellow tapered abdomen, clear wings and a strong, persistent flight at ankle level was zipping around the banks of the pond. It was probably a Wandering Glider, reputed to be the world's most widely distributed dragonfly. I waited patiently for it to perch but it never stopped gliding and eventually disappeared.

Eric Salzman

Warm, overcast and stormy with strong southerly winds. Everything on land was hunkered down but the gulls and Osprey were soaring. There were Royal Terns coming in on the wind. Also a small group of Lesser Yellowlegs coming up the creek, calling (a --,-- pattern) and showing their short bills quite clearly.

Kevin McAllister, the Peconic Baykeeper himself, held a public press conference this morning at the Quogue Wildlife Refuge and, together with some other distinguished speakers -- politicians, legal eagles, a local bayman and someone from the Shinnecock Nation -- laid out both the dimensions of the need and a plan of action. Water is everything out here; it's above us, below us and all around us and we owe everything to it. Without clean water there would be no tourism and all property values would plummet. No fish, no shellfish, no birds, no boating, no swimming, no...well you get the picture. And yet we are letting our ground water as well as our fresh and salt waters be poisoned and polluted by overdevelopment, outdated septic systems, poison spraying for mosquitos, lax enforcement or no enforcement of existing codes, etc. etc. The result: groundwater pollution that leaches right through our sandy soil and into the bays causing brown tides, red tides, algae growth oxygen depletion, you name it. Check out the Baykeeper website and give them as much support as you can!

Eric Salzman

Sex at high tide

The female Baccharis halmifolia or Groundsel or High Tide Bush, one of the two common shrubs at the edge of the marsh, are in bloom right now. Yes, I did write 'female'; Baccharis is one of those plants that has males and females and the female pistillate flowers are small whiteish blossoms that cover the bush. They may not constitute a dramatic floral display but they are attractive to the Monarch butterflies that have been coming in at an increasing rate. If I scan the Groundsel Bushes in bloom, I'll see Monarchs.

When I first came down to the pond and marsh this morning, it appeared that there was a whole flock of Eastern Phoebes hunting from elevated perches at the edge of the marsh but it turned out to be only two or three very active birds plus an Eastern Wood-Pewee. There were warblers -- Yellows and Prairies --but, surprisingly, no Yellowthroats (even if I don't see 'em, I can usually hear 'em). Once again there were a number of Red-eyed Vireos and I saw another Ruby-crowned Kinglet, proving (at least to me) that yesterday's sighting was not an illusion.

Eric Salzman

northerners and a southerner

Another northerner appeared this morning: Ruby-crowned Kinglet joining the Red-breasted Nuthatches and Winter Wren as early birds (let's call them October birds as that's when they usually appear). Both nuthatches were present: the White-breasted was working along the woodland edge facing the marsh while the Red-breasted were in the pines with the Chickadees. A spotted thrush was with a group of Am Robins feeding on the cedar (i.e. juniper) berries on a Red Cedar; it had an eye ring but it stayed in the shadows and I couldn't see the plumage coloration; it was probably a Swainson's but could also have been a Hermit Thrush -- both northerners (although Hermit Thrush breeds on Long Island). A flock of a half dozen Red-eyed Vireos was feeding in the canopy of a couple of the taller oaks but, try as I might, I could not find any warblers or other vireos with them.

Rocky Jr. has been back up on his Pitch Pine perch for past couple of days. It's one of this raccoon's favorite daytime sleeping spots but he was awake both mornings, doing his toilette before settling down for an all-day snooze.

Butterflies are still coming in -- many Monarchs this morning. I did see another Red-banded Hairstreak this morning trapped, alas, in a spider web. This once rare southerner may be getting more numerous. Of the three hairstreaks I've been able to see well in the past few days, two of them were Red-banded.

Eric Salzman

dueling Flickers, some butterflies and a possible Winter Wren

For the last couple of days, there has been a small, dark wren in the tangles at the head of the marsh -- the very area where Irene did most of her damage (and created great wren habitat). I am quite convinced that this is a Winter Wren and not a House Wren. Although September 14/15 is early, it is not unprecedented for this species which may have arrived together with another northerner, the Red-breasted Nuthatch.

Speaking of Red-breasted Nuthatches, there were a few in the Chickadee flock foraging in the Pitch Pines between the house and the water this morning. As the Chickadees kept up their familiar 'chick-a-dee-dee-dee', the Nuthatches kept pace with a continuous series of low, rolling, purling sounds quite different from the toy trumpet call usually associated with these birds. This vocalization, which does not seem to be mentioned in the field guides, may be a contact call similar in function to the Chickadee's 'chick-a-dee-dee-dee'.

There was some kind of elaborate contest going on between two male Northern Flickers. I watched them work their way up and down tree trucks and limbs in an extraordinary series of displays accompanied by low-pitched whimpering sounds. They would point their beaks upward, flick their wings open (displaying the yellow undersides) and generally threaten without actually seeming to make any contact. Usually one Flicker was above the other, facing downward, while the lower bird would indulge in all sorts of wing and tail flashes and keep advancing as if to push the other bird out of the way. The upper bird would then back up but continue to face its opponent while literally holding the upper hand. This continued for quite a while with both birds seemingly oblivious to their onlookers (initially just me but afterwards I was joined by a neighbor who came out to see what I was looking at). I gave up before they did so I don't know the outcome.

We don't have any flowering Butterfly Weed to attract butterflies but we do have Seaside Goldenrod coming into bloom and it definitely attracts. Today's lepidopterans: Gray Hairstreak on the goldenrod and -- rare for a hairstreak -- opening its wings in the sunshine to show the upper side of its wings with two orange 'eye-spots' at the base of the hindwing. A Question Mark was sunning itself on a nearby treetrunk with open and closed wings in alternation. Also a very tatty Red Admiral and a Clouded Sulphur or two in the vicinity. No sign of the Red-banded Hairstreak or the mystery skipper of a few days ago.

Eric Salzman

finches, warblers and ducks

Both American Goldfinches and House Finches -- in about equal numbers -- continued to frequent the head of the marsh this morning while a few new migrants appeared on the creek and in the so-called 'front range' -- where the woods and a row of dense shrubs face east across the pond and marsh. Three warblers: a Yellow Palm Warbler, an Ovenbird and many Common Yellowthroats. Today's flycatcher was an Eastern Phoebe. The crows found a hawk on the edge of the marsh and put up a huge fuss but by the time I could dash down to have a look it was gone. On the creek there was a flight of eight Green-winged Teal and, a bit later, two Blue-winged Teal. It might seem early for these small ducks but both species are sometime coastal nesters (both have nested on Long Island) and these might well be local birds moving around rather than long-distance travelers.

Eric Salzman

ever see a Bronze Grackle?

The Blue Jays were back at it this morning, diving into a dense tangle next to the vines they were attacking yesterday. Once again, I couldn't find the object of their anger and, when I got too close, the jays all took off. If there's a Screech Owl in there somewhere, it's doing a very good job of staying hidden.

Most of the big flock of American Goldfinches seen in the past few days appears to have moved on. However both nuthatches, Red-breasted AND White-breasted, are here -- the Red-breasted in the pines and oaks along the edge of the marsh and the White-breasted further back from the shore moving through a semi-open area of isolated trees. Still quite a few Common Yellowthroats; these birds, immatures or females, are very curious; they respond immediately to pishing and come right out of the underbrush.

For the past couple of days, I've seen a Bronze Grackle sunning itself at the top of an evergreen. What is a 'Bronze Grackle'? Well you may ask. 'Bronze' or 'Bronzed' Grackle is the northern subspecies of the Common Grackle and it differs from its more southerly relative, the 'Purple' Grackle, in having a bronzy sheen on its back -- very noticeable on a bird sitting in full sunlight. For a brief time a number of years ago, the two forms were split into two species and, although they have been relumped, it is very easy to see the difference if the light it good. The Bronze Grackle used to be the Eastern Long Island breeding form but it was replaced by the Purple Grackle a while back -- another example of the advance of the southern fauna. But we still see the northern version of this common bird in migration and winter when it descends from its northern strongholds. Even dedicated birdwatchers don't spend a lot of time studying grackles but the difference between these two forms is worth noting!

Eric Salzman

an owl attack?

An extended and rather noisy attack by Blue Jays, Gray Catbirds and Tufted Titmice on a high, dense tangle of vines covering some old dead tree stumps suggested that there was an owl hiding inside but try as I might I could not find the apparent object of their fury. Could they have mistaken a knot or burl on the stump for an owl? Or were they perhaps attacking a spot where an owl had been seen in the past? Or was the owl so securely hidden inside as to be invisible from any angle?

Almost all the morning activity was again up at the head of the marsh with many 'off-plumaged' Goldfinches accompanied by a few other species: notably Baltimore Oriole, Ruby-throated Hummingbird and Common Yellowthroat. There was also a steady stream of Monarchs, a bit surprising at that rather cool early hour.

Peter Dorosh sent me the following link to a NBC news report on southern butterflies in Massachusetts:
.
Two species are particularly noted, Giant Swallowtails and Fiery Skippers. This makes me wonder whether the skippers I saw yesterday (on the Rough-stemmed Goldenrod flowers along with the southern Red-banded Hairstreak) might not have been Fiery Skippers. I'll try to check it out again today.

Eric Salzman

flutterbys

Since my encounter with the Giant Swallowtail, I have had a number of communications about butterflies. Carl Safina reports an influx of Monarchs. Jean Held sent me a picture of another southerner, a Red-banded Hairstreak. As I sat by the pond this afternoon (hoping for hawks), I noticed an influx of Green Darner dragonflies hovering over the marsh and a steady stream of butterflies coming in from the water and flying up and over the trees -- a few Monarchs to be sure but mostly smaller insects. Eventually, I decided to try and follow the track of these butterflies which took them toward the house. Alas, most of them were overflying but a few stopped by at a stand of goldenrod -- not the Seaside Goldenrod, which is just starting to bloom, but one of the roadside varieties in a sunny spot just outside the porch. There, sitting on a golden spray along with a clutch of bees and wasps and several unidentifiable Skippers, was Jean's Red-banded Hairstreak! Yet another southerner expanding to the north!

It was another superb fall morning dominated again by Goldfinches and House Finches accompanied by House Wren, Common Yellowthroat, Great Crested Flycatcher, a few Chickadees and Titmice, Red-breasted Nuthatch and several Red-eyed Vireos. There were a fair number of swallows over Pine Neck -- hard to make out but I think they were Tree Swallows; the swallows over our side of the creek were all Banks.

There were hawks yesterday -- over Central Park! These were mostly Broad-winged Hawks which migrate in huge numbers in September but mostly inland; we hardly see any here on the South Shore (there are -- or were -- a few nesting pairs around but I've only seen one or two in migration in all these many years).

The photo is of Jean's Red-banded Hairstreak, Calycopis cecrops, virtually identical to the one that was here this afternoon (note the pattern of the red bands and the eyelets increasing in size (near the thread-like tails that account for the name 'hairstreak'), ending in a blue spot. Thank you, Jean, for alerting me to this charming little creature!

Eric Salzman

a 'hatch day not a hawk day

Today was a picture-perfect hawk day -- party cloudy, cool, dry, breezy, autumnal. I went down to the water to scan the skies. But instead of a Red-shouldered Hawk what I found was its size opposite, a Red-breasted Nuthatch; 4.5" x 8.5" instead of 20" x 40". Typically I heard the little yank-yank-yanks first and then found the 'hatch creeping along the branches of a Pitch Pine. It is the earliest of what we usually term 'winter visitors'.

Today's Goldfinch flock seemed somewhat reduced although somewhat augmented by House Finches (which seem to be recovering from their recent afflictions) and I didn't find quite the variety of warblers as yesterday -- only the regulars: N Waterthrush, Am Redstart, Common Yellowthroat, and Black-and-white. All four woodpeckers were in view including a pair of Hairies and there was a noisy Brown Thrasher. A single vireo was probably not a Red-eyed but a likely Warbling (cap same color as back, light yellow wash at the sides) but I never got a really good look.

Yesterday, in the wake of the rain, I had a Merlin. Today, only Osprey.

Eric Salzman

a change in the weather

Last night's front marked a real change in the weather. This was the first morning in a while that I could not hear the pounding of the surf from the ocean (which is less than five miles away across the bay). By the end of the morning, the humidity had lifted, the temperature dropped and the clouds parted to reveal blue skies. In the wake of the rain, there were migrants. The flock of American Goldfinches seemed to have increased in size to several dozen -- almost all in immature or winter plumages (I saw one adult male). There were several warblers mixed in including Black-throated Green, Prairie and Ovenbird as well as American Redstart, Common Yellowthroat and Northern Waterthrush; add a Red-eyed Vireo to the list.

A pair of Northern Flickers were displaying as if in the middle of courtship. A similar anomaly involved two Belted Kingfishers at the Town Dock -- one sitting on a pole and the other on a piece of equipment nearby. They were several yards apart but literally staring each other down and one of them at least was vocalizing in a continuous low-pitched rough rattle only occasionally varied by higher pitched interjections, possibly by the other bird. The bird facing me and apparently making most of the noise was a male and I thought it was going to chase off the other bird at any moment but it didn't happen that way. When the birds finally flew, they did a kind of aerial pirouette together, landing once or twice and eventually changing places so that I could see that the second bird was a female. Not agonism or antagonism but amorism. Apparently many birds (particularly residents) start their courtship in the fall.

Over the creek, a single large tern was being crowded by a trio of smaller Laughing Gulls. This barrel-chested, short-tailed tern had pale gray upper parts, dark underneath the primaries, a complete black cap (no sign of a crest) and a heavy scarlet or coral colored bill. In short, a Caspian Tern, not a Royal. It flew up the creek a ways and then back down again and out into the bay. This is only the second or third time that I've seen this species here.

Finally, as I was making my way back to the house, I heard a kind of maniacal laugh coming from the pines over the path. It wasn't difficult to find the author of this half-comical, half-threatening sound: not a Laughing Falcon but a laughing falcon nonetheless. It was a very dark, chocolate Merlin with a flat capped head, eye stripe, dark sideburns, heavily streaked on the front with a striped tail. As I circled for a better look, the bird moved two or three times to different understory perches, continuing to call, never going very far and finally landing out in the open on the big dead stub overlooking the pond. A female or immature Taiga bird and amazingly tame.

Eric Salzman

Catch of the Day

Catch of the Day: an immature Hooded Warbler at the junction of the old right of way and the entrance to the Samuel & Frances Salzman Preserve: a chunky, big-headed bird, uniformly yellow underneath, olive above with a distinct hooded pattern around a black eye and a yellow face, constant tail flicking showing white outer tail feathers and a fairly constant chip note that somehow sounded both flat and sharp (in the common, not musical, sense of those words).

The familiar warblers were also present: Common Yellowthroat, Northern Waterthrush and American Redstart.

And all the usual herons were also present this morning: Great Blue, Green, Yellow-crowned Night-Heron and Great Egret as well as the resident female Belted Kingfisher. It's odd, but the supposedly less common Yellow-crowned Night-Heron is a homey -- I see it almost every day at low tide -- while the Black-crowned seems to visit but rarely these days.

Eric Salzman

spider webs, Pilewort seedheads and a Stinkhorn

Images for the previous post (Pilewort in seed, sheet spider web & Stinkhorn)

spider webs, Pilewort seedheads and a Stinkhorn

A spider web morning.

When the air is full of moisture on a foggy morning, it suddenly becomes apparent how many spiders there are. The fog literally paints the spider webs white and they are suddenly revealed all through the marsh and into the upland areas -- orb webs, big and small, wherever they can be suspended between plants, and other kinds of webs as well (the web shown in the photo is a sheet web).


But also a Pilewort morning.

These plants, souvenirs of Hurricane Irene last fall, have been coming up everywhere where the vegetation was cleared by Irene or its powerful high high tides. Erechtites hieracifolia is in the daisy family but you'd hardly know it. This rough hardy plant, also known as Fireweed (I prefer to call it Hurricane Weed), bears its flowers in the form of candelabra with flowers that take the form of purplish tubes but never actually open. Instead the outer layers peel off and the seed heads puff out like dandelion heads. There are whole thickets of these things like giant ogre dandelions (most of the plants are between 5 and 6 feet high); Photo #2 shows a Pilewort thicket surrounding the overgrown entrance to the Samuel and Frances Salzman Preserve (note the sign).


And a weird mushroom morning as well.

The third photograph shows one of the phallic stinkhorn mushrooms, probably Mutinus elegans, poking through the leaf itter. You can see the smelly, sticky stuff that attracts insects (which distribute the spores) at the top.

Birds? Yes there were some. A female (or immature) Indigo Bunting was a smallish brown bird with a thick bill but otherwise no obvious field marks (that's it main field mark). This morning's flycatcher was an Eastern Wood-pewee -- like a Willow Flycatcher with a touch of an eye-ring but a little larger with buffy wing bars, a clear whitish throat, a vest on the breast and no tail wagging. The Pewee was hanging with the flock of American Goldfinches which were still in the Tupelos at the head of the marsh and accompanied by an American Redstart, Common Yellowthroat, Catbirds, Titmice, and a Chickadee or two.

Eric Salzman

The Giant Swallowtails are Coming! Red-banded Hairstreaks too!

There has been a lot of correspondence going on about the Giant Swallowtail. Mike Gochfeld confirms Rick Cech's observation that there is a Giant Swallowtail invasion taking place and he says that it began three or four years ago and that he's already had two in his New Jersey yard. Rick and Linda Kedenburg report seeing them in southern Vermont. Jean Held sends me a picture of what she calls "my southerner" -- a Red-banded Hairstreak, Calycopis cecrops, another southerner making its way northward (see attached photo). I used to see hairstreaks nectaring on Butterfly Weed but these flowers are now shaded out and the hairstreaks have become hard to find.

I did find a good warbler this morning: a fall-plumaged Tennessee Warbler, probably an immature (yellow underneath, brightest on the breast, faintly yellow on the undertail). It was in a feeding flock at the head of the marsh (mostly in the Tupelos) led, not by Chickadees or Titmice, but by a dozen or more American Goldfinches, all in female or juvenal plumage. Also in view: Northern Waterthrush, Black-and-white Warbler, Downy and Red-bellied Woodpeckers, Catbirds, Robins, Blue Jays, and others.

Eric Salzman

Papilo cresphontes!

As I wrote in yesterday's post "Black Swallowtail it was." Except that it wasn't.

Sunday night, as we were eating dinner, a huge 'moth' came flitting to a light just outside the kitchen window. I tried to pin it down as some kind of silk moth but, embarrassingly enough, it wasn't a moth at all (moth antennae are quite different) but a swallow-tailed butterfly. I managed to photograph it but then couldn't download it to my computer. When I finally managed to overcome the problem, I attached the photo to a post identifying it as a Black Swallowtail, Papilio polyxenes. Which it wasn't. Lorna was the first to point out that it didn't look like a Black Swallowtail and now I have a raft of e-mails telling me that it was something a lot more extraordinary: a Giant Swallowtail, the largest butterfly north of the Rio Grande and a wow of an insect!

Giant Swallowtail, Papilio cresphontes, is a spectacular creature. I've never seen it before and I'm amazed that it even occurs on Long Island; its larval foodplants are members of the citrus family. The sheer size and the brown background color -- neither obvious in the photo but both seen on the live insect -- should have been a giveaway. There are other good field marks that can be seen in the picture: the yellow band across the center of the forewing (forming a triangle with the yellow band on the lower wing), the yellow dot on the tails (what looks like a second swallowtail is the shadow from the light above); also, the pattern near the tip of the forewing with graduated yellow marks of different sizes.

What's it doing here? Steve Biasetti congratulated me on finding one -- but I didn't find it, it found me! According to Rick Cech, this normally southern species has 'invaded' our area from its normally southern home base. I still don't think it's very common and, unless I'm mistaken most of the sightings this year have been in the NYC area or Hudson Valley but not Eastern LI.

Another example of a southern species expanding its range northward? Of course, this doesn't explain its appearance well after dark, attracted to the nightlight like a giant moth. That in itself is unusual for a butterfly (although apparently not unknown).

Any southern birds around? In fact, there has been a steady increase in southern species reaching these shores and often staying to breed. The most spectacular examples of the past few years are the Blue Grosbeaks in the Calverton/Manorville area and the vultures -- Turkey and Black -- that invaded ELI in 2008 (Turkey Vultures are breeding; the situation with Black Vulture is less clear). Currently, Royal and Forster's Terns from the south are fishing our bays and estuaries (while our breeding terns have mostly skeddadled, at least from their breeding sites). There should be northern birds coming through as well but all I could find this morning was a lonely Redstart and a couple of N. Waterthrushes. It seemed as though most of the birds have moved away from the shore as if they were expecting a hurricane to blow in on the heavy, humid southeast winds. The highlight of the morning was the sight of a couple of young American Goldfinches begging for food from their mother, a confirmation of the notion that this species is both local and late as a breeder.

Eric Salzman

a false moth, a trespassing Kingfisher and false buckwheat

Night before last we were all sitting at dinner table in the kitchen when all of sudden Lorna shouted "What's that?" A huge moth -- dark with rows of light spots across the wings -- was fluttering around the exterior light just outside the kitchen window. Everybody jumped and then we all rushed to the window to get a good look. I grabbed the new Peterson moth book but I couldn't find anything like it. The rest of the family had a simple explanation: it was a butterfly, not a moth! How embarrassing! What was a Black Swallowtail doing on our windowsill in the dark of night? Or, more accurately, in the light of the nightlight? As my daughter Eva said, "butterflies have to be somewhere at night". Black Swallowtail it was.

The local female Belted Kingfisher was seated on a dead stump overlooking the pond yesterday morning -- it's one of her favorite spots -- when another Kingfisher came ambling along. Her mate? Not a chance. In a state of righteous indignation accompanied by the loudest kingfisher rattles she could muster, our local heroine vaulted off her post and took off after the intruder, chasing it all the way up the creek until they were both lost to view. Five minutes later, the creek cleared of trespassers, she was back on her original post.

The showiest of the current bloomers are the four-petaled Clematis virginiana vines climbing all over everything in a lot of places (a plant with some lovely common names including Devil's Darning Needles, Devil's Hair, Love Vine, Traveller's Joy and Virgin's Bower). Also pretty showy but easily overlooked because they have a dandelion-like look: Maryland Golden-Aster (we used to have Sickle-leaved Golden-Aster as well but they seem to have been shaded out). The Saltmarsh Asters, with many small white or lilac colored flower, are all over the marsh and the Evening Primrose are in their prime. You have to look hard to find some of the other late summer wildflowers: Horseweed with its tiny tiny flowers that never open, the strange Enchanter's Nightshade also with tiny flowers, at least one of the plebian Smartweeds, as well as a vine with reddish stems, arrowhead-shaped leaves and greenish flowers coming out of the leaf axils. Climbing False Buckwheat perhaps?

Eric Salzman

Fish are jumpin'

The creek was full of jumpin' fish yesterday midday at high tide. Some of these fish really leap way up out of the water. What accounts for the late-summer Great Fish Fly? The Snappers (baby Bluefish) are in and the usual explanation is that the jumping fish are trying to escape the Snappers' voracious appetite. Except that the jumping fish themselves look like Snappers. Are the Snappers cannabilistic? There's no doubt that they are well named; they will snap at anything -- a bit of whitebait, a bare hook, a lure, a finger.

An expedition to the nearby Town Dock on the rising tide by daughters Eva and Stephanie and granddaughter Juliette produced a catch of no less than 16 good-sized fish -- many of them caught with absurdly inadequate equipment. You don't need fancy fishing gear to land the Blue Snappers at this time of the year.

We had stuffed clams last nght; broiled Snappers tonight.

Yellow-crowned Night Heron reappeared this morning after an absence of a week or two. Yellow-billed Night-Herons were regular low-tide visitors to the pond in the spring and summer, often accompanied by an immature or two, but they has not been around for the past week or two. This morning's visitor was accompanied by two Green Herons with calling Royal Terns and the dependable rattling Kingfisher on the creek.

Eric Salzman

on the Peconic River

I had the pleasure of eating dinner last night at the back of an excellent small Greek restaurant next to the Atlantis Long Island Aquarium in Riverhead. The outdoor tables here overlook the Peconic River which was teeming with fish and fisherfolk, both human and avian. The fish were the Blue Snappers which were good sized and biting vigorously. The birds, feeding on the snappers or (more likely) the bait fish fleeing the snappers, included both Yellow- and Black-crowned Night Herons, adults and immatures, Great Blue Heron, lots of Double-crested Cormorants, lots of Forster's Terns, various gulls, Forster's Terns, Belted Kingfisher, Mute Swans (probably not feeding on the fish), many ducks (all Mallards as far as I could see and also probably not feeding on the fish) and a number of other birds that I couldn't identify (I didn't have my binoculars). All in all, quite a show.

On the drive home, I registered my second Blue Moon of the day (the first one was early in the morning).

This morning's round-up included Great Crested Flycatcher, Least Flycatcher (big eye-ring; first of the season), Veery (first of the season; feeding on Tupelo fruits with Robins and Catbirds), Ruby-throated Hummingbird, American Redstart, Northern Waterthrush, many Common Yellowthroats in various plumages, Am Goldfinches in various plumages, Royal Terns on the creek, House and Carolina Wrens, Green Herons and a small flock of Bank Swallows overhead.

Eric Salzman