swallows and a wren

Troglodytes aedon, better known as the House Wren, is considered a dooryard bird from Canada to Tierra del Fuego but out here that honor rightly belongs to the Carolina Wren. Although our local House Wren does use bird houses, it is almost more of a woodland bird that can be found in open pine barrens, at woodland edges and wherever there is dense shrubbery or lots of dead wood, with or without woodpecker holes. "Troglodytes" means "cave dweller" and, like most wrens, House Wrens like small holes for nesting but will also nest in and under wood piles, artificial or natural. Heaven knows we have a lot of wood piles these days. It's an ill wind that blows no good and the hurricanes have been a boon for this small spunky songbird; not surprisingly, this has been an excellent spring for House Wrens. Unlike the Carolina Wren, the House Wren migrates south for the winter and some of the spring birds we see (and hear) are undoubtedly just passing through but today's bird, moving around the brushy edges between the woodland and the marsh, is a good candidate for a local nester -- if his enthusiastic, non-stop singing technique can attract a female. He certainly got my attention; once you learn the jumbly song of this species, you realize that there are a lot more of these elfin birds around than you thought.

The marsh itself was full of swallows -- Purple Martins, Barn Swallows and a single Bank Swallow -- all catching insects low above the burgeoning Spartina. The Martins were carrying on still further up into the stands of Phragmites at the head of the marsh. As their lines of flight converged, the birds seemed to start colliding with each other, generating some surprising inter-martin aerial combats and even forcing some of the birds down to rest momentarily on reeds or shrubs. Oblivious to all of this, a Yellow Warbler and a Common Yellowthroat were working the perimeter and a rail -- probably, although not certainly, a Clapper -- called from somewhere inside the marsh.

Our pondmaster, Willy Willet, was back at his/her low tide post, hanging out again with the female-plumaged duck -- an odd avian couple. The question of the species identity of the duck was seemingly settled when it was joined by a male Mallard that came dropping by and the two of them waddled and swam up the pond while the Willet finished its toilette and began foraging in the shallow water -- for exactly what I could not see.

Eric Salzman