The Morning After

I had some hopes that yesterday's migrants might hold out another day or that there might be another cohort behind them. No such luck. The one 'new' bird was
a Clapper Rail on the pond at low tide -- a bird that breeds on the other side of the bay but is seen over here only occasionally. One warbler that I had a good look at was the immature Cape May yet once again (yellowish underneath all the way to the undertail coverts, prominent wing bars, burry streaking at the sides). Other warblers were Prairie and American Redstart. I saw several Red-eyed Vireos but no Blue-headed at all. Eastern Phoebe and Eastern Wood-pewee were both common or at least easy to see.

Still here: a few Royal Terns visiting the creek, a Green Heron, at least one Osprey, several White-breasted Nuthatches.

Eric Salzman

big flight

A blue-sky, mild, dewy morning with wet birds popping out of the brush and moving in flocks through the trees, living and dead.

As predicted (by somebody looking at radar), there was a big movement last night and, sure enough, the place was full of birds this morning including several new species (new for the season, that is). The dominant species here were vireos (Blue-headed in the lead closely followed by Red-eyed; try as I might I couldn't pick out any other vireos) and woodpeckers. Yes woodpeckers. With the exception of the Northern Flicker, our woodpeckers are not supposed to be migratory but an awful lot of Downies appeared here this morning and they must have come from somewhere. Plus Flickers, several Red-bellied and at least one Hairy. I am convinced that these birds (like Blue Jays and Black-capped Chickadees) move around more than is usually thought to be the case.

There were several new birds of the season. In addition to the Blue-headed Vireo, there was a Golden-crowned Kinglet, Brown Creeper, Purple Finch (including a female with the tell-tale eye stripe) and another Confusing Fall Warbler -- quite different from yesterday's Cape May in that it had no streaking and was quite light colored underneath with just hints of buff; almost certainly a first-year Bay-breasted Warbler. Also a Swamp Sparrow along with many (new?) Song Sparrows. In short, October birds in the waning days of September.

There was more: Eastern Phoebes, Eastern Wood-pewees, several Blue-gray Gnatcatchers, small flocks of American Robins and a Cooper's Hawk slinking around looking for breakfast. And, of course, screaming Blue Jays trying to alert everyone to the hawk.

Eric Salzman

a confusing fall warbler

I had a classic 'confusing fall warbler' this morning (there was a famous page in the old Peterson Guide marked Confusing Fall Warblers). Alas, neither Peterson nor any of the other field guides have a picture corresponding to this bird and I couldn't find my warbler guide, also from the Peterson series but with a lot more illustrations of plumage variation. This bird was a rather even greenish/yellow all over with wing bars, an eye ring and light or blurry streaking on both the breast and back. Stocky with a slightly downturned sharp beak. It looked somewhat like a juvenile Pine or Bay-breasted Warbler but I'm ruling them out because of the back streaking. Blackpoll, which is very variable at this time of year, is a possibility but I have never seen one so uniformly colored (fall Blackpolls are white under the tail). That leaves Cape May Warbler, a bird I haven't seen here in years and which is illustrated in most guides in its fall guise as a grayish immature female. This one was probably a first-year male.

It seems that the Great Kingfisher Aerial Combat is over. One of the birds finally seems to have retreated leaving the other (don't ask me which one) in full possession of the territory.

Eric Salzman

color

We had guests from out-of-town -- far out-of-town (i.e. Colorado) -- and we took them down to Dune Road and the Quogue Wildlife Refuge. Dune Road was disappointingly quiet on the bird front but there was a regular stream of Monarch Butterflies, a very hopeful sign after the recent collapse of this species. We've had very few individuals visit us on the north side of the bay but they are still (again) working their way south along the barrier beach in some modest numbers.

The Quogue Refuge was extremely quiet -- it felt like there were more visitors than birds -- and the low level of the water table is shocking (this has been a summer almost without rain). But the refuge quite handsome in its early fall plumage. Although green holds its own in the evergreen forest, yellows and browns begin to dominate the understory shrubs and wildflowers and most of decidouous trees. But the most dramatic colors are the reds and oranges of the Tupelos and Red Maples that grow everywhere in the wet areas. Some of the local vines and shrubs -- Poison Ivy, Viburnum for instance -- also get in on the action. All together, they make a display that rivals on a smaller scale the fall colors of New England.

Eric Salzman

a good morning's worth

A lot of birds came in last night and this morning's birding was as good as it's been. Halfway through my walk, Eileen Schwinn came by and the morning walk went into Phase 2 with even more birds.

For starters, there was a notable flight of Eastern Wood-pewees; the birds were widely scattered and I could even hear 'pee-a-wee' songs. Alongside the Pewees were some Eastern Phoebes, mostly the young ones with yellow bellies. With the exception of the Black-and-white Warbler, the fall warblers in sight had distinctive yellow patches: many American Redstarts of the type often called Yellowstarts, Common Yellowthroat, Black-throated Green Warbler, Parula Warbler and a mysterious warbler that I think was a juvenile female Blue-winged Warbler -- bright yellow breast but then white from the lower belly to the undertail, white wing bars, yellow face with some variation around the eye. I only saw this bird from underneath but the face was yellow enough that I thought for a moment that it might be a Prothonotary Warbler! 

Add to the flycatchers and warblers a number of Red-eyed Vireos, an Eastern Towhee, Baltimore Oriole, dozens (maybe hundreds) of Mourning Doves, many Northern Flickers and troupes of screaming Blue Jays and you have a good morning's worth of birds.

Eric Salzman

rattle battle

Oh what a beautiful morning! A Wilson's Warbler made an appearance; this little yellow warbler with a black cap has been getting scarcer and scarcer so its visit was a highlight. The only other warblers seen were familiar ones: Common Yellowthroat and American Redstart. Eastern Phoebe was not new (it breeds around here and the adult birds have already been on the move) but this was a handsome young bird with a yellow wash all over its belly. Many Blue Jays as well as small flocks of Northern Flickers, Cedar Waxwings, American Robins, Black-capped Chickadees, House Finches and American Goldfinches, all with mixtures of adult and young birds.

The Belted Kingfishers are still here, their battles apparently undecided. At least one of them has been hanging out in the woods back towards the house keeping up a soft rattle. But when a Great Egret came by, the Kingfisher took off after the egret which actually had to make an avoidance move in the air to keep from being hit. Almost immediately, the second Kingfisher appeared and, after a bit of aerial action, the two disappeared into the woods and went back to low level rattling. If this is indeed a rattle battle between two males, they seem to be at a kind of stalemate, neither one being able to chase the other.

One raptor, a Merlin, came over the creek and disappeared into the trees. The Kingfishers, so anxious to chase the egret, did not try anything with the Merlin!

Eric Salzman

Kingfishers agonistes?

There are two Belted Kingfishers that have been hanging out by the pond and trilling non-stop for a couple of days now (I can hear them even as I write this on Sunday afternoon). When I approach they take off, executing a series of astonishing aerial maneuvers. Like bird bullets they shoot over the marsh and then high over the creek seemingly in concert but never really approaching each other. Eventually, they land -- usually on the dead cedar on the far side of the pond. One lands first and then, as the other comes in, flashes its wings showing its white underwing pattern. By now I can see that they are both males. This is not some kind of fall courtship but a duel, possibly for the ownership of the creek. They don't actually engage in physical contact; those kingfisher bills are potentially too lethal for an actual physical struggle.

Years ago, there was a pair -- male and female -- that 'owned' the creek for fishing rights and had its nest hole in the banks of the East Coast Mines north of East Quogue. East Coast Mines is no longer accessible but I suspect that the kingfisher bank was destroyed; in recent years, kingfisher presence has been spotty. Although these birds are partly migratory (they can often be seen moving along Dune Road in the spring and fall). But, if there is no ice, there are kingfishers here all winter long. Perhaps the cold winter of 2013-14 pushed out any birds that might have tried to stay and the creek is again up for grabs.

Did I say two male Kingfishers? There is possible a third -- of unknown sex -- in the area.

Other water birds still hanging out are the Green Heron (which bred this year on the property but will eventually migrate) and a flock of Black Duck (probably here for the winter). The population of Royal Terns has thinned out although there are occasional visits; all the other terns are long gone.  

Eric Salzman

Monarchs, Menhaden & Osprey

Dave Taft has a brave article on Monarch Butterfly in this weekend's NY Times but the truth is that this iconic insect is at an all-time low. This morning I saw one, only my third of the season. Earlier there were numbers of Tiger Swallowtails, hairstreaks and other native butterflies. I thought that with the bursting forth of Seaside Goldenrod
-- more than I have ever seen -- there would be lots of nectaring butterflies. But so far these gorgeous plants are covered with bees and wasps and other insects but the only butterflies I have seen are skippers and I would hesitate to say which ones. I did see a very striking beetle which I have tentatively identified as a Locust Borer; it is a good-sized insect with yellow-green bands on a black background. According to the Petersen "Field Guide to the Insects" it is common on Goldenrod in the fall and that is exactly where I saw it.

Yesterday I reported up to seven or eight Osprey on Weesuck Creek at the same time. A report from Paul Spitzer via Carl Safina counted forty birds in the air simultaneously at the mouth of the Connecticut River yesterday! If there was a Menhaden run here that was big enough to attract numbers of migrating Osprey, imagine the size of the run in Long Island Sound.

Eric Salzman

Osprey on the move

The creek was full of Ospreys this morning with up to four in the air at the same time and two or three others perched simultaneously on Pine Neck. I suspect that these birds are a mixture of locals and migrants but this is just a guess. A male Osprey with a transmitter headed south from Jamaica Bay last week, headed apparently for South America. He traveled over 400 miles in a night flight between the 11th and the 12th and by the beginning of the week he was in South Carolina! You can follow the progress of this bird -- he is known as C2 -- at .

I watched the creek several times during the day today with the idea that the weather -- dry, clear, windy -- was perfect for a raptor migration. But, aside from a single Red-tailed Hawk, the only raptors in view were Osprey but there were plenty of them circling and recircling, ever intent on the water below. I even saw one of them hit the water and come up with a large finny prey -- possibly a menhaden which have apparently been running.

The idea that Osprey might migrate at night was new to me. In general, most raptors and other large water birds move during the day while the passerines fly by night. As mentioned in previous e-mails, most of our local insect-eating song birds have left leaving behind only the woodpeckers to work our standing dead wood and the berry eaters to harvest the fall berry crop.

Eric Salzman

disappearing birds?

I recently wrote about the morning silence in the marsh now that the Red-winged Blackbirds were gone. A couple of readers were seriously concerned by what they took to be a report of the apparent disappearance of this common bird, thinking that it might be a part of the Sixth Extinction currently in progress. I didn't intend to give that impression. Red-wings (and their close relatives, Common Grackles) are still common breeders around here and the Red-wings in particular had a very successful breeding season, as evidenced by the numbers of young birds that turned up this summer. The adult male Red-wings are strong defenders of territory, preferring the edges of wetlands but also upland meadows. They mark their territories with their characteristic trills and also by flashing their colorful shoulder patches and they will attack intruders -- including at times, humans -- by diving at them noisily with their sharp beaks as a threat. Females will also sometimes drive off other females but it is common for several females to establish themselves in a single male's territory; apparently the attraction is the territory itself rather than the handsome male! Since each nest has 2 to 3 eggs, the result is a lot of young fledging out of nests that are situated in a good territory!

In mid- to late summer, the males gradually abandon their territories -- I have often noted how they get less and less aggressive -- and the birds, young and old, start to form large flocks, often with other blackbirds. These flocks tend to gather at designated roosting sites, often in stands of phragmites at the edge of a marsh. Shortly after sunrise, these flocks disperse in groups of a dozen or more in search of good feeding areas and they will tend to return to their roosting area at sunset. In past years, there has been a fall or winter roost in the dense reeds at the edge of our marsh but that doesn't seem to be happening this year -- at least, not yet. It's possible that the memory of last winter's cold has already sent many of the birds further south to look for more congenial roosting or feeding areas. It's still early though, so we'll see what happens.

Frank Quevedo, the SOFO director, similarly mentioned to me that he hadn't been seeing any American Robins since their breeding season came to an end. The explanation is actually similar. Robins, young and old, also cluster into feeding flocks at this time of year and, as their Latin name (Turdus migratorius) suggests, tend to move south as the weather gets colder. At the moment we have small flocks of Robins, some of them with the spotted breasts of young birds; they are feeding on the profusion of berries -- Pokeweed, Poison Ivy, Tupelo -- that marks the end of summer in these parts. 

Eric Salzman

a virtuoso Blue Jay

With the virtual disappearance of Red-winged Blackbirds and Common Grackles, the most common species around has been the Gray Catbird. Almost as common as the catbird is the American Robin and the loud and noisy Blue Jays. Yesterday, I heard a descending screech that I thought might be from an owl or unknown hawk but, after a few rounds of these calls, the sound suddenly switched to Osprey! It was indeed a Blue Jay practicing its raptor calls. More normal Blue Jay calls are everywhere as these birds work through the oak-and-hickory canopy looking, as I suppose, for acorns.

I got several reactions to my note about big black elongated wasps. The one with blue wings and an orange-and-black abdomen is almost certainly a Scolia dubia or Blue-winged Wasp. These wasps, which are commonly seen nectaring on flowers in late summer (the Wikipedia picture seems to show one on a Goldenrod), lays its eggs on beetle grubs including June bugs and Japanese beetle grubs. The other wasp, which was all-black with blue patches on the abdomen, was more difficult to identify. It's possibly another form of the same insect or a close relative. I'll have to try and get some pictures.

Eric Salzman

Seaside Goldenrod and its pollinators

If you want to study bees and wasps and other pollen-collectors, find a patch of Seaside Goldenrod. This underrated wildflower is disliked because it is associated with hayfever but it gets this reputation simply because it has bad timing; it flowers exactly at the beginning of hayfever season. Hayfever pollen comes from plants with wind-blown pollen, the best-known of which is Ragweed which has green flowers that are hardly noticeable. On the other hand, Seaside Goldenrod, a hardy, almost succulent plant of sandy shores, erupts in numerous small daisy-like yellow flowers precisely in order to attract insect pollinators. In a post-Sandy environment the flowers are everywhere in open shore areas, forming gorgeous sprays that attract hordes of insect pollinators. And boy (or should I say 'girl'?) do they attract.

I originally went down to wander amidst the glorious goldenrod to look for butterflies but I only found a few skippers that were, as usual, difficult to separate out according to species. But there were bees and wasps everywhere. I could see that some of the honeybees had little yellow baskets of pollen on their legs. Some of the other bees may have had honey baskets as well but most of the insects that were crowding in to get the pollen appeared to be devouring it on the spot. And there were many other insects joining in the feast.

Of all the several different kinds of wild bees and wasps, the most striking were two largeish elongated jet black wasps. They had long narrow bodies and narrow wings that were glistening blue like the gorget of a hummingbird. One of them had blue marks stamped on its black body and a blue (or blueish) band around its abdomen. The other did not have these blue spots but had a yellow-and-black abdomen. I have no idea if these are two different forms of the same species or two different species nor could I find any evidence for what they might be in my limited insect library. Oh well, the more you look the more you find and the more you find, the more you realize what you do not know!

Eric Salzman

mid-September morn

I was down at the pond and marsh shortly after sunrise this morning. It was a somewhat cool cloudless blue-sky Sunday morning with almost no wind and an astonishing lack of sound. No bugs, no boats, no birds. The sky, the marsh and the woods beyond seemed etched in a silence that put everything in sharp relief for what seemed like a long period of time. Finally there was the distant sound of corvids -- crows and jays.

A Black-crowned Night-Heron jumped out of the marsh and landed near the top of one of the high leafy trees in the woods . . . but still silently. Suddenly birds began popping up everywhere along the edge of the marsh and in the higher vegetation -- live and Sandy-dead -- just beyond. The most surprising of these was a richly colored off-season Bobolink with a pink bill (a notable feature not often mentioned) and a striking orange-buff color, deepest around the face. No sound but easy to pick out as it crouched in the tangled dead branches of a toppled Red Cedar.

What else? Red-eyed Vireo and Ovenbird in the big Tupelo at the head of the marsh and many of the familiars of early fall: finches (American Gold- and House), woodpeckers (all four local species), lots of American Robins (including juveniles), Cedar Waxwings, Common Yellowthroat, White-breasted Nuthatch, etc.

A sprawled-out deer in the near woods -- thought to be a dead animal -- was presumably only resting as it later disappeared or melted into a gang of seven or eight, a mixture of roe deer and their fawns seen a bit later in the day.

Eric Salzman

sunrise and one clear call for me

I watched the sun come up this morning. Of course this gets easier and easier to do as dawn arrives later and later (official sunrise was 6:30 or so but because of the trees on Pine Neck, it was a few minutes later). The sunlight hits the treetops back of the marsh first and then gradually drops down to ground level, always a beautiful quiet spectacle. With north winds and some cooler air coming in, there were a handful of migrants, notably an Ovenbird, a Yellow Warbler and a couple of Common Yellowthroats. Also Baltimore Oriole, a Ruby-throated Hummingbird, a Carolina Nuthatch, a Belted Kingfisher and one of the yellowlegs.

What's a Carolina Nuthatch you ask. Believe it or not, there's a move to split the White-breasted Nuthatches into three geographic species and, if that happens, ours would be the Carolina Nuthatch.

Some of these birds have been around for a while so it's not clear that they are all migrants but I certainly have the impression that many -- if not most -- of our local breeding birds have moved out with a handful of replacements coming in. Gray Catbirds are now the most common bird on the place, feeding on Pokeberries. Poison Ivy berries and Tupelo berries, all of which are fruiting densely in the upper marsh areas. American Robins, which also feed on these berries, are moving around in small flocks along with various woodpeckers.

Late this morning, I heard an Osprey calling outside the porch window -- so close that I thought the bird had landed on one of the trees surrounding the house. But when I went outside, all I could see was a Blue Jay. Then suddenly, the 'osprey' called again and flew into the next tree. To my astonishment, it was a Blue Jay doing a perfect imitation of an Osprey call! All the books will tell you that the Blue Jay is very good at imitating the calls of Red-shouldered Hawks. Well we don't have very many Red-shouldered Hawks out here but we do have Osprey and, let me tell you, the Blue Jay -- this one anyway -- does a really good job of imitating him.

Why? I have no idea. Blue Jays, like other corvids, don't really have a song but they are incredibly vocal, holding lengthy conversations between them. There were half a dozen Blue Jays hidden deep in the canopy of the trees around the house and all calling to one another in a series of sounds that ranged from the familiar 'jay-jay-jay' to an endless series of squeaking gates, electronic beeps, various buzzes and burbles. And -- to what end I am not sure -- a very good Osprey imitation.

Eric Salzman

from Blue Jays to white asters

Blue Jays high up in the oaks are almost certainly looking for acorns which are hard to come by this year. Blue Jays are known to cache acorns as winter food in hiding places that they sometimes forget (thereby helping the spread of oak trees). Catbirds everywhere -- apparently feeding on pokeweed berries. Small groups of American Robins (possibly also feeding on poke berries) include several juvenile birds that still retain their spots. Among the deer that frequent the place, there are three fauns which also still retain their spots. There are also at least three young Raccoons, generally seen -- even in daylight -- in the areas around the head of the marsh; they may also be eating poke berries but a more probable explanation is that this area is densely vegetated and provides excellent cover for a lot of creatures.

Several readers have sent me to online sources to research the mystery vine mentioned in my last post but few of them mention what I consider the most likely candidate. Climbing False Buckwheat is a member of the big Buckwheat family and is called Polygonum scandens in the old books (newer sources call it Fallopio scandens). The stems are red and the sprays of almost invisible flowers and winged seeds come out of the leaf axils. This seems to be another one of those plants which has appeared in areas that were scoured by Sandy. Another flower that has appeared in some of these areas is a small white aster that may actually be the Small White Aster (Aster vimineus); it is an attractive species with small white flower heads and narrow, grass-like leaves. The only problem is that there are many species of small white asters some of which also have numerous small leaves -- and not all of them well illustrated or described in the field guides let alone on line.

Eric Salzman

a swinging cormorant

Fairly strong breeze out of the northeast this morning. There were three Double-crested Cormorants on the dock just past the outflow from our pond. Two of them were solidly perched on adjacent stanchions but the third was on the line or rope between the stanchions. This was a tricky spot to hang out at best and, with the wind blowing the rope up and back, the cormorant had to balance itself and keep from falling by flapping its wings and tail non-stop. This looked ludicrous, especially since there were plenty of other posts on which he/she could have perched (not to mention the dock itself). Was it so important to hang out (literally) between two colleagues? Maybe this was just an exceptionally good way to dry off the wings (oddly enough, cormorants don't have any way of waterproofing their plumage which is why you often see them hanging out their wings to dry). Or maybe, this swinging, flapping balancing act was simply a lot of fun! After about 15 minutes, our cormorant trapeze artist took off, taking one of the other birds with him.

Fall floral displays are coming in. The Seaside Goldenrod is starting to bloom; it's going to make a great display this year. Clematis is also blooming with its striking profusion of bright white four-petaled flowers on a spreading vine. In sharp contrast to these spectacular plants is a small mystery vine with greenish flowers, winged fruits and red stems. I've spent a lot of time trying to figure this one out but I think the correct answer is Climbing False Buckwheat or perhaps a close relative. Groundsel, a widespread shrub on or near the marsh edge, is about to bloom as well.

There are still a few butterflies around -- I saw a Coral Hairstreak this morning as it briefly lit (lighted?) on one of the marsh edge plants. Alas, not one Monarchs since the single individual I saw a little while ago. The Monarch crash is real and troubling.

Eric Salzman

a swinging cormorant

Fairly strong breeze out of the northeast this morning. There were three Double-crested Cormorants on the dock just past the outflow from our pond. Two of them were solidly perched on adjacent stanchions but the third was on the line or rope between the stanchions. This was a tricky spot to hang out at best and, with the wind blowing the rope up and back, the cormorant had to balance itself and keep from falling by flapping its wings and tail non-stop. This looked ludicrous, especially since there were plenty of other posts on which he/she could have perched (not to mention the dock itself). Was it so important to hang out (literally) between two colleagues? Maybe this was just an exceptionally good way to dry off the wings (oddly enough, cormorants don't have any way of waterproofing their plumage which is why you often see them hanging out their wings to dry). Or maybe, this swinging, flapping balancing act was simply a lot of fun! After about 15 minutes, our cormorant trapeze artist took off, taking one of the other birds with him.

Fall floral displays are coming in. The Seaside Goldenrod is starting to bloom; it's going to make a great display this year. Clematis is also blooming with its striking profusion of bright white four-petaled flowers on a spreading vine. In sharp contrast to these spectacular plants is a small mystery vine with greenish flowers, winged fruits and red stems. I've spent a lot of time trying to figure this one out but I think the correct answer is Climbing False Buckwheat or perhaps a close relative. Groundsel, a widespread shrub on or near the marsh edge, is about to bloom as well.

There are still a few butterflies around -- I saw a Coral Hairstreak this morning as it briefly lit (lighted?) on one of the marsh edge plants. Alas, not one Monarchs since the single individual I saw a little while ago. The Monarch crash is real and troubling.

Eric Salzman

a respectable showing

The weather transitions this morning were unusual with fleecy clouds high up coming from the southwest but puffy high clouds moving in from the north and then a wind shift to the east. A number of migrants came in starting yesterday with a Black-throated Blue Warbler and a flock of American Redstarts - literally six birds in a tree seen by Lorna. There were also Redstarts this morning along with a juvenile Blackburnian Warbler, a Northern Waterthrush plus one or two Red-eyed Vireos. That's not exactly a 'wave' but, along with the White-breasted Nuthatches, House and Goldfinches, it made a respectable showing. On the creek, Green Herons and Belted Kingfisher are still hanging around and at least two of our resident birds -- Carolina Wren and Northern Cardinal -- are still feeding fledglings, mostly likely the third brood for each of them.

Eric Salzman

pairs

I was standing on our neighbors dock near the mouth of the outflow from our pond when two Mute Swans came by in a stately twosome -- one with his or her foot incongrously lifted up to the rear above the water line (which didn't prevent him or her from keeping up with his or her companion). After seeing that I had nothing for them, they swam right under the dock, continuing down the creek.. Aside from a stray foot in the air, what was unusual about two swans on Weesuck? Only the fact that, for the first time in years, there was no successful swan nesting on the creek and no sign of any swans for extended periods this summer. Perhaps this is a new pair ready to take over a prime abandoned territory?

Waterfowl often come in pairs. Two ducks cavorting over the creek turned out to be Black Duck. Unlike the introduced swans, this is a native species that has been pushed aside as a breeder by the introduced Mallard. Mallards also did not do well this year on the creek. Could Black Duck reestablish itself? Why not? There are a few pair in the Shinneock marshes opposite through the summer and they are common birds in migration and winter.

There were two Northern Mockingbirds mixed in with a small flock of American Robins in the tree tops back of the pond this morning. Mockers are not usually thought of as migrants but they seem to move around quite a bit (ditto the Robins). Also, there are still two Osprey on the creek as well as two Green Herons -- all perhaps young birds of the year whose parents have already left for warmer climes.

An odd couple was formed by the American Redstart and Black-throated Blue Warbler that were working the trees right around the house. There were a few other warblers around but, except for a couple of Common Yellowthroats in the low vegetation at marsh edge, they were moving high through the canopy and were difficult to identify.

The final pair in this report was even more mismatched. A fast-flying, squeaky little bird came shooting up the edge of the marsh -- fleeing for its life as it turned out. It was closely followed by the season's first Merlin which came within an ace of catching it. I didn't identify this bit of prey but I can testify that it got away. The disappointed Merlin pulled up short, veered off and landed in a tree on the other side of the marsh.

Eric Salzman

the vanguard

Tuesday's  1-day hot spell may have felt like the beginning of summer but it was still fall for many birds. Red-winged Blackbirds and Common Grackles are now forming roosts and groups of a dozen or more fly out in the morning to feeding grounds in a typical fall/winter behavior. Also small groups of American Robins -- not quite yet big flocks -- are moving around feeding on Tupelo and Pokeweed berries along with good numbers of Gray Catbirds and small numbers of American Robins. Not many long-distance migrants but the Common Yellowthroats and Great Crested Flycatcher that have been active in the past few days are probably migrants along with a few Purple Martins and Barn Swallows. Most of the Osprey on the creek are gone and so, seemingly, are the Northern Waterthrushes which spent most of August here. A similar group of birds were in the outer edges of the marsh this morning along with a couple of American Redstarts, many Song Sparrows, a Green Heron, a fly-by Belted Kingfisher and a White-breasted Nuthatch in the woods. Some of these birds have been here most of the summer but many of them are on the move -- the vanguard of the fall migration.

Eric Salzman

katydids

The katydid, whose picture I posted a day or two ago, is not a Common True Katydid (the kind that stirs up a storm these summer nights) but something called a Round-headed Katydid. On the advice of John Heidecker, I submitted the pictures to a web site called BugGuide.net and the correct attribution came back almost immediately. One of the photos is now enshrined on this web page as a prime example of this strange insect (the picture, by the way, was taken by my son-in-law, Jean-Louis Carbonnier). After a considerable search, I found some sound recordings of Rounded-headed Katydids which produce very high pitched clicks and buzzes, often brief and at the edge of audibility.  Indeed some of them were absolutely inaudible -- due to the limitations of my computer's sound system or my ears. There are, as you might gather, a number of species in the genus of Round-headed Katydids so this specimen has been tracked down to the generic level only. If you listen carefully at night -- try to ignore the loud True Katydids -- you can hear some of these odd calls coming from high in the trees. There is, it seems, more to this katydid business than one might suspect! The insects of late summer (and the nocturnal ones in particular) are a whole study in itself!

Eric Salzman