Eclipse-watching from the pond

We pulled up chairs in front of the pond to watch Sunday's night's eclipse and, in spite of some weather predictions to the contrary, the rather wispy cloud cover dissipated in plenty of time to show us a bright super moon and to reveal the creeping earth shadow that gradually blotted it out leaving only the ghostly golden (or reddish) orb in its place. The moon rises in the east and the full moon makes a double display as it is reflected in the water of the bay. As was widely reported, this was a super moon on one of its closest passes to the earth and, until overtaken by the earth's shadow, it was incredibly brilliant. Seen through binoculars, the creeping shadow gave it a beautifully three-dimensional look as the bright area gradually shrank to a mere sliver and then to almost nothing. All that was missing from this unearthly scene was a calling owl and, sure enough and right on cue, a Screech Owl began a long series of ghostly whinnies from the woods between the house and the pond. Maybe this was its command for the earth to let go of its moon. If that's what it was, it worked perfectly.

Eric Salzman

winds followed by gliders, Kingfish follow by fish, shorebirds heading north

The steady winds of the past week or so seemed promising so I sat myself down by the pond facing east in the hope of seeing some raptor migration. Alas, except for a high-flying Osprey (with a fish), a single Tree Swallow and a couple of gliders (human variety), there wasn't much. What did come in was a male Belted Kingfisher who alighted on the top of the dead Red Cedar on the bank just opposite. I sat quietly watching him but he didn't do much. The breezes were mild and the sun warm enough so that, after a while, I closed my eyes and dozed off only to wake up with a splash! Surprise: the Kingfish had fished a fish out of the fishpond! He was back on his perch with his catch crosswise in his ample bill -- the right way to capture it but the wrong way to swallow. I was hoping to watch him jiggle and gulp down his prey but, with a meal securely in his beak, he wasn't so willing to put up with my near presence; after a moment or two of hesitation, he took off to eat his dinner elsewhere.

A dozen or so shorebirds came overhead melodiously calling as they worked their way in a rough V formation. The song was so sweet and repetitious and the direction so improbable that I first thought the source must have been a flock of finches. Even after I realized I realized they were shorebirds heading straight north, I was baffled. Why would they head north at this time of year? Wrong-way migration appears to be fairly common around here particularly in the fall and my guess is that many birds migrate at night off shore and when the sun comes up, turn towards the land looking for a place to set down and recharge their batteries. In our area, that means that they come in from the south and head north looking for a landing spot. That seems to be what was going on here. The birds were Yellowlegs, probably (but not certainly) the Lesser which has a sweeter song than its slightly larger relative.

With the berry eaters of recent vintage largely emptied out, there wasn't much else to report: a single Monarch butterfly and another White-throated Sparrow. I have been told that White-throats are moving along the barrier beach but the usual fall influx has not yet shown itself around here.

Eric Salzman

two firsts

The first White-throated Sparrow of the season (or, at any rate, the first I've seen) appeared yesterday morning even as the crowds of berry-eaters -- Robins, Catbirds,  Waxwings -- fell off in numbers. The first American Kestrel of the season appeared over the marsh this morning; it seems odd to say it (the Kestrel was once our most common raptor) but this species has become something of a rarity outnumbered even by the once-rare Merlin. An accipiter chase -- a male Cooper's chasing a female overhead (or, just possibly, a male Sharp-shinned chasing a Cooper's) -- provided some additional raptor thrills as did a Red-tailed Hawk being chased by a whole squadron of crows. 

Eric Salzman

don't be too hasty

I was a little too hasty in saying that the turn of weather pushed out Royal Terns and American Goldfinches from our area; both species were present this morning, the Terns on the creek and the Goldfinches around the head of the marsh. Robins and Catbirds are still around although in smaller numbers while Northern Flickers and Cedar Waxwings seem to have increased. A curious-looking finch with white on the head turned out to be a House Finch with a plumage problem and a raptor flying up behind a screen of trees appeared, in the bright sunlight, to have a white head but, when perched, turned out to be, not a Bald Eagle, but a Red-tailed Hawk.

The Seaside Goldenrod is making a splended display but, except for a single Monarch, its insect visitors seem to be mostly bees of one sort or another.

Eric Salzman

a change in the weather

The change in the weather promised more than it delivered. Several species have all but disappeared (American Goldfinch, Royal Tern) while others (Robins, Catbirds) are down in numbers. On the other hand, the northeast winds delivered a few birds -- Belted Kingfisher, several Eastern Phoebes and some raptors (Red-tailed Hawk, Cooper's Hawk, Merlin).

Seaside Goldenrod is at or near its peak flowering but, except for the many bees nectaring at the flowers, there are surprisingly few insects and almost no Monarch Butterflies. We'll see what the morrow will bring.

Eric Salzman

more on the merry berry-eaters

The merry berry-eaters -- mostly Robins, Catbirds and Goldfinches -- were still at it this morning although in somewhat reduced numbers. When these birds first came in last Thursday, there was a tremendous amount of agonistic activity with Robins chasing Robins, Goldfinches chasing Goldfinches and Catbirds chasing Catbirds. These squabbles and chases diminished significantly after Day 1 suggesting that these birds were sorting out feeding territories for their local visit. Although the morning activity was largely confined to the berry patches at the head of the marsh in the earlier part of the day, some of these birds began to move around the area in small flocks -- often with Chickadees and Titmice, woodpeckers, the occasional flycatcher and even a few warblers.

After a quiet, warm early morning, a north/northwest wind came up today bringing with it for starters, a Belted Kingfisher and a couple of smallish falcons, probably both Merlins (the smaller one of the two was probably a male, the other a female.

Eric Salzman

merry berry-eating flocks

A flock of Cedar Waxwings appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to join the merry berry-eating flocks of Robins, Catbirds, Goldfinches feeding around the head of the marsh. These handsome, strong, silent creatures are known as fruit specialists and will often wander many miles looking for fresh fruit. Well they found some. Waxwings have been present as breeders in past years but, oddly enough, this year -- perhaps the best berry year I can remember -- they didn't show until now.

I looked in vain for the Golden-winged Warbler seen on Thursday but I did find a Parula as well as the more familiar Common Yellowthroats, American Redstart and Black-and-white Warblers. Today's Empid was a "Traill's Flycatcher" with a very weak eye ring (and so, probably a Willow).

As the morning progressed, large numbers of birds moved from the marsh and through the woods, ending up encircling the house where they were joined by woodpeckers, Mourning Doves, Blue Jays, flocks of titmice and chickadees, some Common Grackles and a handful of warblers.

On a different note, the creek Ospreys -- possibly the young of the year -- have been extremely active, calling all morning; at least one bird, was flying with a fish in its talons and calling attention to itself quite loudly. Is this autumn romance among the young birds?

Eric Salzman

migration picking up?

I was sitting in one of the wooden chairs outside the Aldrich Boat Yard on Weesuck Avenue when a Merlin came over carrying prey. It disappeared into a woodsy area just behind the boat yard where I found it flying, perched and then flying again. Merlin has been the most common raptor here since the beginning of the month but I don't know if this is always the same bird or a succession or arrivals. A few Tree Swallows were migrating high in the sky; my theory is that the Merlins migrate with the Tree Swallows and feed on them.

Big flocks of hundreds of American Robins, Gray Catbirds and American Goldfinches continue to pile into the head of marsh area and then spread out all around. But there were some new additions, all in this same area: the first Swamp Sparrow of the season, the first couple of Eastern Phoebes (yes, wagging their tails) and at least two warblers -- the handsome green-backed fall version of the Chestnut-sided Warbler and a very intriguing gray warbler with a fat yellow wingbar which I believe was a GOLDEN-WINGED WARBLER, the first I have seen in many years. The latter bird was high and deep into foliage so I wasn't able to see the face pattern but I don't think there is another bird with a wingbar like this.

Another new warbler for the season: Black-throated Green. The other warblers seen were the ones familiar from recent weeks: Common Yellowthroat, Black-and-white, American Redstart, Yellow Warbler. Both Contopus flycatchers -- Olive-sided and Eastern Wood Pewee -- put in appearances as well as the four local woodpeckers and the ever-present White-breasted Nuthatch whose unmistakeable 'hank-hank-hank' is always a giveaway.

Other visitors in recent days include Red-eyed Vireos and Ruby-throated Hummingbird. A young Green Heron may be one of the offspring of the family that bred here this summer. Screech Owls have been calling at night; not sure if these are migrants or local birds.

Eric Salzman

bird berries

Flocks of American Goldfinches (including young still being fed by their parents) were at the head of the marsh feeding along with good numbers of Catbirds and a few other species (Mockingbird, Am Robin). The attraction is almost certainly the many berries ripened on Tupelo trees, Pokeweed and Poison Ivy. Also there were at least two Eastern Pewees active in the dead trees that encircle the area (didn't see the Boreal Pewee, otherwise known as the Olive-sided Flycatcher, the northernmost of the Contopus pewees, which has been here for the past couple of months!).

The warbler population is unchanged: Common Yellowthroat, Yellow Warbler, Black-and-white, American Redstart, Northern Waterthrush. One or two Red-eyed Vireos as well plus all four woodpeckers (including Hairy which is a regular visitor on our dead Pitch Pines). Only saw a single raptor: a Cooper's Hawk flying up the creek.

Eric Salzman

another reason why birds may seem to disappear

I thought of another reason why someone's yard or locale might appear to be totally birdless. This morning, a Merlin came swooping over our marsh and a pall of silence descended over the whole area -- not a peep, not a single movement. Merlins and accipiters (Cooper's & Sharp-shinned Hawks) are bird hawks and the bird know it. When one of these raptors is hunting in the area, birdlife can seem to disappear!

The Olive-sided Flycatcher was back, perched on the tippy-top of dead stubs surrounding the head of the marsh. Although the bird was somewhat distant and facing away, it was clearly not an Eastern Phoebe -- a quite robust flycatcher, good-sized bill, no tail wagging, bright white throat contrasting with darkish head.

A large sparrowy bird with an unremarkable face pattern, a white spot at the base of the primaries and white outer tips on a longish tail dove into low bushes at my approach. Although mid-September seems like a late date, it was almost certainly a juvenile Eastern Towhee. Small numbers of Tree Swallows continue to move southeast high overhead in the morning.

Eric Salzman

no birds?

Diane Taggart, who runs the LI Birding site, sent me a communication from someone in Smithtown who bemoans the fact that there are no birds in her area. She literally means NO BIRDS and is clearly very upset about it.

There are two or three reasons why things seem quite birdless right now. One is that many of our local migratory birds have moved on while new arrivals from the north have not come in to replace them. In any case, there is no doubt that overall bird populations are down, seemingly due largely to factors that transcend our local problems. There may also be a weather factor as we are on the Eastern edge of the Atlantic flyway and many of the birds that we might expect to be here are in fact moving through the Hudson Valley and New York City!

This is, in any case, a kind of interregnum between summer birds and the major push of fall migrants. Watch for a cold front to bring a least some new arrivals. Some of them are already here. I just had a second report of EVENING GROSBEAKS, this one from Dan Wilson at Brooklyhaven National Laboratory. Has anyone else seen these birds? It's been years since we've had a major influx of these nothern beauties.

Things down here on Weesuck Creek in East Quogue are certainly quiet but the Am Robins keep moving across in small groups and there are flocks of Common Grackles in the neighborhood along with Blue Jays (collecting acorns), Common Crows, both wrens, three or four woodpeckers, House- and Goldfinches, a few warblers of several species and at least one Empid flycatcher. Most of the Red-winged Blackbirds are gone and the numbers of Tufted Titmice and Black-capped Chickadees have dropped precipitously. But there an influx of Gray Catbirds with a few Northern Mockingbirds feeding on the berries of the quantities of pokeweek, poison ivy and tupelo.

Eric Salzman

that flycatcher

Here's my post from July 25th:

"There's a somewhat mysterious flycatcher hanging around at the edge of the woods facing the pond and marsh, generally remaining quite high in dead branches. This bird should be an Eastern Phoebe but its head is not particularly dark and it doesn't seem to wag its tail very much -- if at all. There's no particular breast markings that I can see nor is the breast at all yellowish or cream colored as one often sees on juvenile Eastern Phoebes. Size and the lack of wing bars seem to preclude pewees or empids. So, going on the general structure -- big head, bull neck, long dark tail -- and adding in the likely odds, it would have to be an Eastern Phoebe."

What I am describing here is, of course, the Olive-sided Flycatcher which had already appeared here in the last week of July (or even a bit earlier) and has remained here ever since! Lorna also saw what was clearly the same bird and was equally puzzled over it.

How did I misname it so badly? The bird (I'm assuming there was only one but I have no proof of that) was not singing and did not show the white tufts on the sides of its rump. Also, I missed the vest effect which is not always visible at a distance. And I did not expect to see this north woods flycatcher here in mid-July -- which only goes to show that mental categories can overwhelm the evidence of one's eyes.

In fact, Olive-sided Flycatcher is known to migrate as early as July. It is also known to like dead snags, particularly in burned-over areas. This bird (or birds) actually found here a similar area of dead trees created, not by fire, but by hurricanes, and extending all around the wetland edges -- perfect for its habit of perching high on a dead snag from which it performs its characteristic flights and insect captures.

The Olive-sided is not our only midsummer arrival. Most years we get Northern Waterthrushes from the north and Royal Terns from the south, both in July. Also Spotted Sandpipers, American Redstarts and a few other species that nest elsewhere on Long Island but typically turn up here in midsummer.

Eric Salzman

a mysterious flycatcher

There has been a mystery flycatcher hanging around the place for several weeks now. It arrived sometime in early August and takes high perches on hurricane-dead trees all around the marsh periphery. This bird has a dark bull-headed head, a big bill with a pale lower mandible), pointy wings, a short tail (no tail wagging), a white breast (central breast at least) and a looping flight to capture insects between high perches (often returning to the same perch). Once or twice, I saw white patches on the rump leading me to call Olive-sided Flycatcher. But "all" these birds were/are undoubtedly Olive-sided Flycatchers, possibly all the same bird.

I saw this bird (or its twin) many times before and the question is why the ID didn't dawn on me earlier. I suppose that I was looking for those white patches (which mostly don't show) or waiting for a call ("hip-three-beers", apparently the exclusive property of spring migrants and breeding birds). At any rate, with or without the white patches, this bird is an Olive-sided, feeding from dead snags just as it does on its breeding grounds. And it has been here for a good while!

Red-eyed Vireo put in an appearance this morning and there were small groups of American Robins flying in the wrong direction (SE to NW!). Numbers of Tree Swallows came over, feeding in the marsh for a good part of the early morning before moving on; these birds are outliers from the large numbers moving along the barrier beach.

Eric Salzman

a Merlin and some Evening Grosbeaks!

Today's visiting raptor was a Merlin being chivvied by the Blue Jays near the head of the marsh. It stood its ground (or perch) against the jays but took off on my arrival showing the classic stocky Merlin profile with tapered, pointy wings and a hurried falcon flight just over the treetops. It might seem early for Merlin (a high northern nester) but I have seen them in early migration -- late August or early September -- over the years. I suspect that they follow the Tree Swallow migration which peaks about now.

Speaking of early migration from the north, Daniel Wilson tells me that he had a flock of Evening Grosbeaks come by for a brief visit at his East Moriches property last night. Evening Grosbeaks are not regarded as regular migrants in these parts but are rather an invasive species from its northern breeding grounds. Many years ago, Evening Grosbeaks were common visitors in fall and winter hereabouts but, for reasons unknown, their numbers have fallen off almost completely in the past few decades. Maybe this will be a northern finch winter -- one of those winters in which crop failures in the north woods push northern species to come wandering south in search of sustenance. Good for birders if not for the birds!

Eric Salzman

The bats are flying!

The bats are flying. Every evening at dusk we see them over the open area in front of the house. There are nine possible species in New York but these are moving too fast to identify beyond the obvious fact that they are bats of a certain medium size and possibly belonging to one or two species.

I expected some bird migration along with last night's cool front but not much materialized. There are still some numbers of American Redstarts around -- males in breeding plumage as well as adult females and juveniles -- along with some of the other warblers of the season (Common Yellowthroat, Yellow Warbler, Black-and-white Warbler and Northern Waterthrush) and a Ruby-throated Hummingbird. But these birds have all been noted locally in recent days and are probably not new arrivals. A Red-tailed Hawk soaring on a windy morning appeared to be a migrant. Royal Terns still fishing on the creek.

Add to the late summer flower list (now turning into an early fall list): Clematis virginiana or Virgin's Bower, now blooming all over the place (although not particularly on our place). This is the fast-spreading vine with four-lobed white flowers that is a sure sign that fall is approaching.

Eric Salzman

Who was Cooper anyway?

As I sauntered down to the pond this foggy morning, a large bird took off from the top of one of the dead trees that, courtesy of Sandy, now fringe the western side of the water. On a hunch that this was a raptor, I followed the bird to the mouth of the pond where it was sitting quietly on a cross-branch. Except for its staring yellow eye, the bird showed every sign of being a large (hence female) accipter: gray-blue back, striped tail with white edging at the tip, a large white puffy undertail, a slight touch of white on the hackles at the back of the head giving a kind of subtle crest effect and making the head look square. And, as I noted when the bird finally took off, reddish horizontal striping on the breast.

The bird was surprisingly tame as I approached it, slowly making my way almost underneath its high perch. It was facing away from me but was following my movements by rotating its head more than 45 degrees in both directions. It accomplished these owl-like head turns without moving its body in the slightest,  a character that nailed the ID as a Cooper's Hawk (Sharp-shinned Hawk has to twist its body or lower its shoulder to perform this maneouvre).

As can be imagined, not much else appeared in the vicinity while this hawk was in position. However, at one point, a single Cedar Waxwing came in to a nearby treetop (the first I've seen of this bird in a while), surveyed the situation and then quickly took off at high speed in the opposite direction from where the hawk was facing!

The Hairy Woodpecker was back as were a few warblers (Common Yellowthroat, American Redstart, Black-and-white); otherwise things were fairly quiet. A strong cold wave should change all that.

Eric Salzman

flowers of late summer

The dominant understory plant since Sandy has been Pokeweed (Phytolacca americana) whose waxy white flowers have now turned almost completely into lush purple berries. This plant is considered to be poisonous to humans although its early spring shoots are edible (best to boil and change waters at least a couple of times). At this time of the year, it makes a very exotic undergrowth display and the berries are eaten by many animals -- birds in particular -- who are apparently not affected by the poisons. Supposedly deer will not eat the mature plants but one look at the nibbled shoots all along the open paths will put that theory to rest!

The other common post-Sandy understory plant is also unusual. Pilewort or Fireweed (Erechtites hieraciifolius) is a flowering plant in the aster or daisy family that does not seem to actually flower but bursts into dandelion-type seed heads before the flowers ever open. The Fireweed moniker comes from the fact that it is known as a pioneering species after fire but, in our case, we should probably call it Hurricane Weed.

Other flowers of late summer: Sea Lavender, Marsh Aster (both in the marsh), Pearly Everlasting (or a closely related species), one of the thistles (still haven't figured out which one) and at least two different goldenrods (Solidago rugosa or Rough-leaved Goldenrod and Euthemia tenuifolia or Slender Fragrant Goldenrod). But the goldenrod we're anxiously waiting for is the Seaside or Solidago sempervirens, a robust and beautiful plant which is everywhere along the edge between the woods and wetlands and is going to burst into spectacular bloom any day now.

Eric Salzman