April to October 2016 at Weesuck Creek

Well that time of year has arrived. We migrated back to Brooklyn and these posts are going to be few and far between for a while. We moved somewhat earlier this year; usually we wait until the beginning of November or even election day (we vote in East Quogue) but this year I had performances of my musical and music-theater work and it took some advance preparation and rehearsal in the city.

I would summarize the 2016 season -- spring migration, breeding season, fall migration -- as a year of changes. I was able to get out almost every morning for a substantial walk around our East Quogue property and its environs from the end of April up to the last week of October. As most of the readers of this blog are aware, the property fronts on Weesuck Creek  where it widens out and fkows into Shinnecock Bay. That puts us between Bay Avenue (and the town dock) and Weesuck Avenue (site of Aldrich Boatyard) and opposite the Nature Conservancy's Pine Neck Sanctuary. We have a salt marsh with two open pond areas which are tidal, and several acres of oak/hickory/pine upland woods. The shrub areas in between have Tupelos, Red Maples and various salt-tolerant shrubs. There is also a small open meadow in front of the house The property was cleared many years ago before it was acquired by my family in the 1940s but it has been allowed to grow up again with Red Cedars, Pitch Pine, Sassafras, various oaks and  Mockernut Hickory forming a classic SouthShore woodland -- essentially an extension of the Pine Barrens. However the tropical storms of recent years have brought some further changes, killing a line of mature trees facing the marsh -- Red Maples, Pitch Pines and some of the Red Cedars and oaks were the hardest hit. Because the storm tides entered the woods, the underbrush was cleared out in a large area affording us good views of the creek and bay and changing the ecology quite a bit. We have been invaded by Pokeweed, Pilewort, Bull Thistle and other pioneer plants; also High-bush Blueberry has spread.. By contrast, the higher woods that escaped the storm effects have matured quite a bit.

The change in bird life has been quite noticeable. Whie-breasted Nuthatch bred for the first time. Eastern Phoebe and Great Crested Flycatcher bred on the property or just nearby. We have had four woodpeckers -- Hairy, Downy, Red-bellied and Flicker -- regularly and Yellow-bellied Sapsucker as a fall migrant or winter visitor; plenty of dead wood for them. There were three wrens -- Carolina, House and Marsh -- the first two of which bred successfully. This was a big year for finches, mostly Gold but also House Finches making a comeback after being decimated by an eye disease in recent years. The Goldfinches nested late (as is their wont) and adults and offspring virtually took over the head of the marsh in the late summer and fall.

Ground-nesting birds continue to be visitors only. Alas, both Bobwhite and Ring-necked Pheasant have completely disappeared. In their place, Wild Turkey has made a spectacular reappearance with flocks of up to two dozen birds -- a few hens and their fast-growing young -- coming by almost every day.

Mallards and Black Duck were active on the creek but the Mute Swans and Canada Geese did not make much of a showing (no tears shed there). Both Forster's and Royal Terns were regular on the creek right through the summer and fall while Common and Least Terns were down in numbers. There was a calling Clapper Rail and two birds were seen several times on the marsh in the spring but, try as I might, I could find no evidence of breeding. A Sora made an appearance in the late summer; no other rails were seen. Both night-herons were around for much of the summer along with a local Green Heron. Other herons included both egrets (Great Egret by far the most common) and Great Blue Herons were here almost all year except during breeding season.

This was yet another year when the numbers of long-distance migrants continued to drop but there were a few good species that showed. The number one sighting -- two sightings in fact -- was the Connecticut Warbler seen on 9/18 and 10/14. Northern Parula, Tennessee Warbler, Magnolia Warbler, Black-throated Blue Warbler (many and vocal), Yellow-rumped Warbler, Blackpoll Warbler, Black-and-white Warbler, American Redstart, Common Yellowthroat, Wilson's Warbler (foraging high instead of low but an unmistakable yellow bird with a black cap), and Canada Warbler were all spring migrants; May 18 was the high point with 11 species The summer (i.e. breeding) warblers were Pine, Yellow and Common Yellowthroat. Yellow-breasted Chat was seen a couple of times in September. In contrast to previous years, there were fewer fall than spring migrants and Wilson's and Connecticut Warblers were the only ones of note,

Local raptors included two active Osprey nests on Pine Neck as well as regular Red-tailed and Cooper's Hawks. As usual, Merlin appeared in August; other migrants included Northern Harrier, Sharp-shinned Hawk, Peregrine Falcon, Kestrel and many Osprey. Both Screech and Great-horned Owls were regularly heard at night.

Among the woodland birds, Scarlet Tanager, Baltimore Oriole, Rose-breasted Grosbeak and Indigo Bunting made their regular appearances but only the oriole staed to breed.

I'll conclude with two big avian events, both involving hummingbirds. A Rufous-type hummer showed up at the feeders of the Morton Wildlife Refuge at Jessup's Neck. Eileen Schwinn and I managed to get there in time to see and photograph this bird on October 29 (see photos below). We may have been the last to see it as it left shortly thereafter. This was a female or young male bird which is difficult to separate from its congener, Allen's Hummingbird, a similar far-Western hummer; hence the "Rufous-type" designation.

The other event was the discovery of a Ruby-throated Hiummingbird nest in a storm-blasted, not-quite-dead Red Cedar just back of the pond straight down from our house. The nest, artfully concealed on a lichen-covered branch. produced two young raised (as is this species usual habit) by the female. Since it was discovered early in the cycle, the entire growth and feeding of the two chicks was photograghed, videoed, posted on YouTube and even written up in the Southampton Press, Three of the videos can still be seen; look for "Quogue nest" or go to the following addresses: , ,
and

dodging rain drops and walnut nuts

Got in a shortened morning walk dodging rain drops. Judging by the 'chink' sounds and occasional bursts of song, I was surrounded by largely invisible White-throated Sparrows during the first part of the walk; were these birds here all the time or are there new arrivals beefing up the population? In the same head-of-marsh area, I thought I heard a Winter Wren giving a rough version of its rather extended song but I could never get a good look at whatever was moving around in the underbrush and the wren that finally showed was a Marsh Wren. Usually the Marsh Wren songs are short and less melodic but this bird was apparently stringing together his rather unmelodic tunes to make a better show of it. Nearby was a Common Yellowthroat with a very bright yellow throat and a Blue-headed Vireo with very bright wing bars.

Several raptors were around: a medium-sized blue-backed accipiter which might have been a female Sharp-shinned or a male Cooper's; two or three Osprey over the creek; and a big crow-chased raptor with broad wings, long tail and a barely glimpsed white rump -- in short, a Northern Harrier.

The heavy gusts of wind have almost completely stripped the Tupelos bare and created a veritable storm of oak, walnut and sassafras leaves just about everywhere as well as provoking a veritable rain of acorns and hickory nuts. In a few places, the hickories are replaced by the huge Black Walnut nuts. I wish I knew how to crack them open without getting my fingers black and ending up with inedible wooden chips mixed in with walnut meat. And, no, I don't wish for one of these cannonballs to fall on my head as I saunter by. Could happen.  

Eric Salzman

white is a color too

The winds shifted from northeast to southwest overnight and this morning's puffy clouds eventually cleared to blue sky and then clouded over again. Unlike yesterday morning, I didn't find any good-sized feeding flocks -- only one small group of Tufted Titmice with acorn-snaring Red-bellied Woodpeckers and Blue Jays -- but for the second day in a row I did see a smallish accipiter being chased by crows and jays. That would be a Sharp-shinned Hawk.

What is striking is what is not around as much as what is still here: an almost complete scarcity of Catbirds and Goldfinches, two of the most common birds here a week or two ago. On the other hand, flocks of migrating Robins continued to appear through yesterday but shut down this morning in the face of the wind shifts.

Although there has not been much cold weather, the leaves are turning and flying in the wind (an extra challenge for anyone looking for birds not leaves as flying objects). The Tupelos, whose leaves turn early and colorfully red, are being quickly stripped of their leaves. Coming in to replace them in the color department are Poison Ivy, Virginia Creeper, High-bush Blueberry and whatever Red Maples have survived recent hurricanes. Other trees like Sassafras and the local Walnuts add to the color but mostly in yellows. Except for the Red Oaks, the other oaks go straight to brown. Unlike New England, we don't have Sugar Maples (the big source of color at this time of year) but we do have introduced Norway Maples which can add some flashiness to the scene. The Seaside Goldenrod is about finished but the local Blue Asters (species?) are at their height and so is the Baccharis or Groundsel, a striking bush of the wetlands edge that has spread extensively into higher areas and whose female flower-heads with their showy feathery plumes are in full display right now -- big bursts of white all around the perimeter of the marsh and into the uplands. White is a fall color too.

Eric Salzman

change of pace

Another change of pace: cooler, brisk northeast winds, puffy clouds moving high overhead in the opposite direction. There were three distinct feeding flocks. The first one, encountered early in the morning right in back of the pond, was led by a whole troupe of Yellow-rumped Warblers with one or Palm Warblers, B-c Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, at least one Ruby-crowned Kinglet and no less than four species of woodpecker: Downy, Red-bellied, Flicker and, yes, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker in only slightly faded plumage (Hairy Woodpecker, however, did not show).

The second flock was also anchored by Chickadees and Titmice but included a number of the season's first Golden-crowned Kinglets. Not easy to see from underneath (they often stay high) but acrobatic enough so that eventually they tip over and show the golden crown (they also make very characteristic soft lisping chips which is the first sign of their presence). The third group was a flock of Dark-eyed Juncos; I tried in vain to spy some other sparrows with them but they all took off into densely foliated trees.

At any rate, all three flocks featured recent arrivals on the scene -- the Sapsucker, the two kinglets and the Juncos!

Eric Salzman

a wet, dewy morning followed by mushrooms

Yesterday's very wet dewy morning, featured a Cooper's Hawk that was eventually driven off by the crows. The extremely high spring tides (yes, you can have spring tides in the fall) filled the pond, attracting fish and a few birds: Mallard and Black Duck (which stay on the surface and presumably don't eat fish) and Double-crested Cormorant which spends a lot of time underwater catching fish. Royal Terns continue to work the creek, parading up and down in some numbers and diving for fish. Ditto Belted Kingfisher. Osprey? The locals are gone and I don't even see many migrants coming through

What has been coming through are a few Monarch Butterflies -- either fluttering overhead or basking in the sun to dry themselves off and/or recharge their batteries. Hopeful but nothing like it used to be.

Today's top birds were a tail-wagging Palm Warbler and a surprising flock of over two dozen yellowlegs -- seemingly a mixture of Lesser and Greater.

Two of my favorite mushrooms have appeared in the past few days, both excellent edibles. One is a lactarius or milk mushroom (it exudes moisture from its gills underneath the cap) -- Lactarius volemus -- is its Latin name. It's a very attractive mushroom with an orange cap and a rather firm brittle texture. It usually comes up in the late spring and/or early summer but there was little rain this year so it only managed to emerge just now as we're having spring/summer weather in the fall. The other is the Wood Blewit -- in spite of the name, more purple than blue. Alas, I could find only two specimens, both with the sort of squat fairy-tale mushroom look that is one of its features. The Latin name is Clytocybe nuda although it has also been dubbed Lepista nuda, Tricholoma nudum, Tricholoma personatum and other things as well. Don't let anyone tell you that the Latin moniker is more stable than the vernacular name.

Today's mushrooms are also goodies: a few Wood Blewits (Clitocybe nuda) again and Hen of the Woods (Grifola frondosa) are both good edibles

Eric Salzman

Flicker darting at a Blue Darter

A cool but pleasant fall morning began with an adult Cooper's Hawk perched high on a dead tree on the far side of the marsh. The blue back reminded me of one of the bird's nicknames: Blue Darter. Only the adults have the blue backs; the immatures are brown but with the same structure (short, broad wings with long striped tail). As I mentioned in an earlier post, accipters (including Cooper's) are bird specialist and have the ability to fly through woodland tracts -- to chase prey or simply to get away from harassment -- without getting bonked by tree limbs. But this one was just sitting out in the open and leisurely attending to her (her?) toilette. Possibly because a accipiter sitting out in the open is assumed not to be hunting or because other birds are afraid of coming too close to this fearsome predator, no one was venturing very near. A few Am Crows and Blue Jays were making noise and hovering in the neighborhood but always keeping their distance. The accipiter, drying off in the sun and straightening its feathers, paid no attention. Ironically, it was a Northern Flicker, probably a passing migrant, that came right in with its substantial beak ready to strike. That finally routed the hawk which took off for parts unknown.

The head of the marsh was, as usual, very active with a familiar avifauna that included two winter birds: Blue-headed Vireo and Brown Creeper. Only four of the five possible woodpeckers this morning; the Sapsucker didn't show.

Eric Salzman

a flight of Connecticut Warblers?

Got an e-mail from Joe Polashock yesterday describing a warbler seemingly identical to the one I wrote about yesterday; according to Joe, it was walking around his garden in New Suffolk and pumping its tail. I never get to see Connecticut Warblers on the ground (our underbrush is too thick) but it is well known that they walk on the ground and bob up and down (which can also be described as tail pumping). Also Connecticut Warblers have been reported from the city as recently as yesterday. In short, there has been a substantial flight of these uncommon birds in the past few days extending from at least New York City to Eastern LI.

The bird population here this morning was completely quiet except for one cawing Crow. I soon found out the cause: a hungry-looking adult Cooper's Hawk perched on a dead branch on the edge of the marsh and just under the crow. It didn't seem to mind the annoying crow but, at my approach it took off into or through the trees (Cooper's are big birds but, like other accipiters they have the ability to navigate through the woods). Shortly thereafter all the usual small birds emerged to dry themselves off in the rays of the rising sun (they were all wet from the heavy dew) and begin to feed. But, no sooner had they started to go about their business when another large raptor appeared, this time a flying Northern Harrier coming across the creek and up the marsh. But the harrier showed no inclination to hunt and flapped gracefully over the top of the trees and disappeared.

Eric Salzman

a scarce warbler reappears

A quiet morning walk was interrupted by a surprise: a brief glimpse of a warbler poking out from the underbrush with a nice complete eye-ring, a plain olive back, buffy chin and pale yellow underparts. For various reasons, I can say that this was not a Yellowthroat so the only choices left are immature Mourning and Connecticut Warblers. Yes, it was another Connecticut Warbler only steps away from where the last one appeared (it may have even been the same bird). The immature Mourning has a much weaker eye-ring and is brighter yellow underneath -- so Connecticut it is! Definitely the warbler of the year in these parts!

Not much else to report. A flight of a few Fish Crows came over the creek yesterday. I startled a Great Blue Heron out of arboreal perch, a event that happens every morning. And the morning flock of Feral Pigeons was right on time; between half a dozen and two dozen birds come over the place in precise formation every morning about a half hour after sunrise. 

Eric Salzman

corvid enemies?

Heavy fog again on the creek this morning -- Pine Neck was covered but our side of the creek was again fog-free. Nevertheless, the newly arrived warm weather, the southern breeze and the fog did not make for good migration conditions. Most of the birds that came in a few days ago were still here but seemingly represented by only a few individuals: Song, Swamp and White-throated Sparrows, Blue-headed Vireos, Ruby-crowned Kinglet, a very few Robins, no Catbirds but lots of woodpeckers -- all five species in fact: Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, Hairy and Downy Peckers as well as Red-bellied and a few Flickers.

Great Horned Owls have been duetting the past two nights -- I slept through them Tuesday night (Lorna heard them) but heard them last night. As usual, I didn't find them in the daylight and neither did the crows or jays. The Blue Jays put up a racket that seemed promising but it turned out that the object of their ire was a Raccoon half-hidden in a tree hollow. Another Jay assault was directed at a Green Heron perched on a dead branch overlooking the marsh (don't know why Jays should hate Green Herons but they do). And some noisy Crows were upset, not by an owl but by me -- they were circling overhead and cawing loudly as they followed me back to the house as I returned via the old roght=of-way.

Another bird that is still here is the Eastern Phoebe which apparently is still finding insect prey. In fact, somewhat sadly, I saw one catch, mash and swallow a Red Admiral butterfly.   

Eric Salzman

a sparrow in quotation marks

More sparrows came in last night but this time the movement was dominated by Song Sparrows with only a smaller number of Swamp and White-throats. However there were a few 'new sparrows'; the Dark-eyed Juncos were the first I've seen here this season. I put 'new sparrows' in quotation marks because, of course, Juncos are regular winter visitors hereabout but also because most people probably don't think of them as sparrows. They certainly don't look like the other sparrows which are brown and streaky while Juncos are dark gray with a white belly and a pink bill.

Also seen were several Blue-headed Vireos. This is the handsomest of that tribe with, in addition to the blueish/grayish head, very prominent white spectacles, yellowish wing bars and more than a bit of yellow on the flanks. They were hanging out near the head of the marsh with the finches and chickadees. There was also a strong influx of Flickers but most of the Robins and Catbirds have disappeared. And Royal Terns are still working the creek in some numbers.

Eric Salzman

sparrows, sparrows, sparrows

There was a big movement of sparrows last night, dominated by Swamp Sparrows but also including many Song, White-throated and Chipping. I'm sure that there were other species of sparrows represented but we don't have a good, open area for sparrows; instead they all work the marsh hedges, well hidden in the dense brush. Th show themselves momentarily when they pop up on my approach but then they take off and only sometimes land high enough and long enough for me to get a good look. I've seen some unusual sparrows here over the years but it's always a challenge to find them.

Didn't see any new sparrows but I did detect a female-type Purple Finch hanging out with the many House Finches but easily distinguishable by its stockier big-headea appearance and the tell-tale eye stripe. And there was another first of the season: the long expected Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. In fact, all five woodpeckers were seen in the head-of-the marsh area making a perfect quinfecta (if that is the right term) within the first 20" or so of my walk.

Eric Salzman

new old birds & a mushroom

Fairly strong northeast winds blew the storm clouds out to sea -- I could still see them sitting on the ocean out past Dune Road on the other side of the bay -- and blew in a few 'new' birds. Actually I didn't see anything truly new but a lot more of what had already come in; most of these birds were active in the area back of the pond and adjacent marsh where new fall arrivals generally land. The result was more White-throated, Song, Swamp and Chipping Sparrows, more Yellow-rumped Warblers and even a few more Catbirds. All four woodpeckers, a Brown Thrasher, a couple of Eastern Phoebes, a Ruby-crowned Kinglet, a single Red-tailed Hawk and the usual collection of finches, Gold and House, complete the tally.

One new mushroom turned up a couple of days ago in the rain: this was the Honey Mushroom or Armillaria mellea. It is a well-known edible and when it fruits, it really fruits. I spent a good twenty minutes picking the caps that covered the stump where it was growing (it is a mushroom that sprouts on wood) and I didn't get the half of it before giving up. A good part of the pickings ended up in a soup and the rest were blanched for future use.

Eric Salzman

a Raccoon, yellowlegs, a feeding flock & a new arrival

This morning sun rose into a partly cloudy sky with almost no wind and the continuos roar of an angry ocean unseen across the bay. The early morning tide was still low with a single young Raccoon padding about --looking for what? Can Raccoons snare a meal out of schooling bait fish? I watched and waited without seeing anything in particular. Later on the Raccoon was replaced by three elegant yellowlegs, two Greater and one Lesser, and yellowlegs, probably a Lesser, was also in the open water area in the middle of the marsh. I'll bet they can snare schooling fish!

The most striking event of the day was actually an avian feeding flock of a couple of dozen birds moving across what I call the front range-- i,e, the edge of woods facing the rising sun and the marsh at its feet. I can't be sure of how many of these birds were local and how many were migrants since, with the exception of a Ruby-crowned Kinglet and several Swamp Sparrows, all the species were local nesters. However the numbers of Northern Flickers and the sight of several coming in from across the bay suggested that these migratory woodpeckers were, well, migrants. So perhaps were some of the others -- Song Sparrows for example.

The best bird of the morning was, however, not part of this party but seen elsewhere in a high tree: a Blue-headed Vireo, a first of the season for me.  

Eric Salzman

fog and some October birds

Sunrises are far from all alike. This morning the upcoming light of life had to battle a heavy fog that was so thick that it blotted out Pine Neck completely, not to mention Dune Road and most of the Aldrich Boat Yard and Town Dock on either side. What it did not blot out but in fact carried across the bay in full voice was the sound and fury of the raging ocean breakers, an unseen but sonorous reminder of an as-yet distant hurricane!

Oddly enough, the marsh and surrounding upland was almost completely free of the fog, a kind of hole in the mist within which the visibility was excellent! There were no rails or sparrows around the muddy open water in the middle of the marsh but there were sparrows elsewhere, notably a Field Sparrow that was the first of the season. Other sparrows of the day were Swamp, Song, Chipping and White-throated. Also seen: Ruby-crowned Kinglet, Yellow-rumped Warbler (in some numbers), Brown Thrasher, Northern Mockingbird (one of the few birds still singing) and a lot of American Goldfinches returning to the big Tupelos at the head of the marsh. The Tupelo berries are long gone but apparently the Goldfinches and other birds are finding something to eat amidst its colorful leaves and branches. Northern Flickers returned (or new ones arrived) in some numbers as did American Robins but the Catbird population is still way down..

The pond is full of fish -- mostly schooling fish with a dark shoulder mark; they break the surface regularly (whether there is one or more species I am not sure). Among the fishing cohort of birds, the Osprey and Royal Terns stick to the creek but Yellow-crowned Night Heron, several yellowlegs (both Greater and Lesser I believe) and Belted Kingfisher are exploiting this finny resource. Once again I watched a Kingfisher nab a good-sized fish and take it to the dead Red Cedar on the opposite side of the pond. This time I was able to stay hidden and motionless behind vegetation and watch her thwonk, beat, bash, mash and otherwise reduce the twitching fish to a manageable pulp in order to be able to gulp it down -- all done with the beak, kingfisher style.  

Eric Salzman

Western or Scarlet?

Ken Thompson sent me this picture with the following comment: "We had this tanager yesterday and discussed it and after other input concluded Scarlet tanager; a similar situation to yours in today's post".

Today I saw a yellow(ish) bird with gray wings and two white wingbars which I concluded was a young Baltimore Oriole. Was it the same as yesterday's bird? Probably not but I didn't have great views of either one.

I was up before dawn and was able to admire the clear skies (the constellation Orion was front and center, a sure indication of the changing seasons) and, a little later, a clear early sunrise. The tide was low and I reached the open water just before the sun began to peek over the trees on Pine Neck. No rails to be seen but there were three sparrows working the grass and mud at the far end. They were clearly not marsh sparrows (Saltmarsh or Seaside) and not Swamp or White-throated Sparrows either. They resembled Song Sparrows but with the striping abruptly cut off and a very white belly below (no breast spot visible). They also had clearly yellow legs (Songs tend to be pinkish), white throats and gave the impression of having eyerings. I thought they were three Lincoln's Sparrows which is more of these birds than I have seen in toto on the place over the years!

There were a few Swamp, Chipping and Song Sparrows elsewhere and I could hear White-throats singing their inimitable melodies. Other than sparrows, the dominant birds were again Goldfinches with a few House Finches in the mix. Almost all the Catbirds and Robins seemed to have left the premises and I didn't see or hear a single Flicker. One oddity: I tracked a calling nuthatch and I am almost certain that it was a Red-breasted not a White-breasted.

Mushroom of the day: Coprinus (or Coprinellus) micaceus. This one of the Inky Caps which deliquesce (i.e.self-digest) into a black inky mess. These mushrooms also have the reputation of causing problems if ingested with alcohol. Not sure if this applies to this particular Inky Cap species but I do not intend to find out.

Eric Salzman

sunrise and some newbies

A real sunrise this morning as the sun pushed away the clouds and made its triumphant entry in a blue sky. Since the tide was also on the low side, I made my way to the middle of the marsh and was greeted by four Raccoons making their way up the muddy tidal creek -- three rather small ones and one slightly larger, probably a mother and her kits (if that's what young Raccoons are called).

Back to the edge of the marsh and working my way up to the top, there were quite a few birds including some new arrivals. There were the first Yellow-rumped Warblers (a.k.a. Myrtles) of the season, a couple of young Cedar Waxwings and a number of sparrows including: Swamp, Song, Chipping and White-throated. But the most tantalizing bird was a yellow tanager/oriole type with noticeable wing bars. I didn't get a good look at the bill but I am pretty sure it was a Western Tanager! It was too bright and evenly yellow to be a Baltimore Oriole and not greenish enough to be an Orchard. The female Scarlet is yellow enough but doesn't have wing bars. If it is a Western Tanager, that would be a first for the property. I not 100% on this ID but these western tanagers do wander east a lot!

Anything else? The Seaside Goldenrod is still in bloom and attracts a lot of insects, mainly bees. No Monarchs but I saw a handsome Common Buckeye supping on the flowers.

Eric Salzman

more mushrooms

With the morning weather back to oveercast and northeasterly windy, bird activity was light. As has been the case in the past few weeks, the American Goldfinches has been the most numerous and active of our avian friends, switching from their beloved thistles (which are almost finished) to the Pilewort and now Baccharis, both of which also have feathery wind-blown seeds. A few woodpeckers and the usual jays and crows round out the picture. Except for one speedy smallish falcon -- just a silhouette against the sky but undoubtedly a Merlin hunting for goldfinches.

Fall asters, white and blue are coming in. And more mushrooms: Marasmius oreades or Fairy Ring Mushroom and a species of Cortinarius with a bulbous stem. Cartinarius is one of the largest genera of mushrooms (said to contain over 1000 known species); fortunately it is not a area with delectable edibles so, even though the bulbous bottom offers a clue, I am not going to try to pin it down as to species. The Marasmius is a different story. It is a very good edible and quite common in grassy areas. The fairy ring character is not a good ID factor as it doesn't always grow in fairy rings (and there are other mushrooms that also form grassy circles). Marasmius is easily recognizable by its distinctive tan cap with a little brownish umbo on top; the shape of the cap also gives it another English name: Scotch Bonnet (not to be confused with the hot pepper of the same name). Another feature of the mushroom is its ability to recover from drying out and that means they are easy to wash to remove any dirt and puff then up to their original shape. The stems are thin and tough and have to be discarded before cooking.   

Eric Salzman

break in the weather

The soggy, windy weather finally broke and the sun actually came out today. What a relief!

The pond was active with lots of bait fish -- silversides I think -- attracting anight herons (an immature Yellow-crowned I think), egrets (mainly Great), Belted Kingfisher and Double-crested Cormorants. I heard a big splash from the neck of the pond and a Kingfisher headed straight towards the dead Red Cedar opposite, saw me and veered off to land on a dead branch further away. She (it was a female) had landed quite a good-sized fish -- perhaps a Blue Snapper -- and was jug-jug-juggling it in her beak, to kill it and get it mashed down enough to swallow. Unfortunately, a large Crow came in with obvious intent to steal the fish and she took off with her catch to finish it off somewhere else.

The other major bird of the day was a large first-year Cooper's Hawk which landed right over my head in the dead Pitch Pine overlooking the pond. Handsome, mean-looking bird. It finally decided that it didn't like my looking up at it and dashed around the corner to another dead pine perch from which it then took off for parts unknown.

Speaking of mushrooms (which I was yesterday), there is a big fruiting of the so-called Coral Mushroom -- probably a Ramaria but difficult to pin down to species level. It is all over the place under oaks and pines between the open meadow and the pond/marsh. The Coral Mushrooms are a pretty safe group of edibles but my recollection is that we tried it years ago and found it bitter so we have not tried it again. Two Laccarias are also fruiting: Lacaria laccata and the more robust (but very sandy) Laccaria trullisata. Again not top eating material. Also many different Russulae (with varied color caps) and many dangerous looking all-white mushrooms that probably belong to the deadly category of Amanitae.

Eric Salzman

rain=mushrooms!

With the lack of rain, this was a bad summer for mushrooms: a few Yellow Chanterelles early in the summer, one tiny bolete, a single Chicken Mushroom and no Black Chanterellee at all (first year I didn't find them in many years). Now that the weather has changed, fall mushrooms are starting to appear. Yesterday I found a new mushroom with the delightful name of Angel Wings (Pleurotis or Pleurocybella porrigens; a distant relative of the Oyster Mushroom) and two favorites, both lepiotas: Lepiota americana and Lepiota procera, also known as the Parasol Mushroom. The lepiotas were sauteed in a little olive oil in a hot iron skillet but we ate only a tiny piece of the Angel Wings (always a good precaution with a new mushroom). Should I add that the lepiotas were excellent; the Parasol was a collection of a dozen medium and large caps, the most I have ever found in a single place. They were superb; as a local gustatory delight, the Parasol is only equalled around here by the chanterelles (the only other possible competitors, King Bolete or Cep and the Morel are very rare or non-existant hereabouts).

I should add that Lepiota americana is now usually called Leucoagaricus americanus and the Parasol has been turned into Macrolepiota procera. In case you thought that one of the best reasons to use the scientific names is that they neveer or very rarely change, guess again! Mushrooms are particularly liable to reclassification and name changes.

I also found a mushroom that I have ID'd as a Gymnopilus but as none of these mushrooms seem to rate as a good edible (and some may be poisonous), we gave it a pass.

Mushroom ID is difficult at best and the only safe way to know what you're eating is to know what you're eating. Most of the current crop of mushrooms are small in size (many on wood) or otherwise not worth tussling with. I found a few Earth Stars, a strange kind of puffball that emerges from an almost sandy base and then splits open to reveal its treasure: a pile of black spores to be scattered by the wind. There are lots of Russulas (also hard to ID although there are a couple of recognizable species that are very tasty) and one gorgeous big Fly Agaric; this latter is the famous Amanita muscaria which looks like it should have elves scampering underneath (but in fact it is a dangerous hallucinogen). Not many boletes (the kind with a spongy rather than gilled underside to the cap) but I did collect a few medium-size handsome orange caps with yellowish shaggy stems which I have tentatively identified as Boletus longicurvipes; it's in a safe area so we may try a taste.

The bad weather seems to have caused most of the smaller birds to hunker down or pull back from the shore. I did see Brown Creeper again and all four woodpeckers -- including Hairy but not the awaited Sapsucker. Once again most of the activity was near the head of the marsh, an area that is rather protected from the northeast winds. Also there are still Wild Turkeys padding about and a couple of warblers (Northern Parula, Common Yellowthroat) showed up.

For birding, you have to look up; for mushrooming you have to look down which makes it challenging to do both simultaneously!

Eric Salzman

bird snapshots and more on Merlins

Another windy morning, completely overcast and kinda coolish. Although I would have said that windy weather was mainly good for big birds and top flyers, one new birdlet did in fact turn up: a Brown Creeper seen twice in two different places.

There were male and female Belted Kingfishers on the creek but I don't think this was a love feast but rather a chase of the get-outta-my-territory variety (the female was chasing the male!).

Skeins of Double-crested Cormorants took to the skies in silent V-shaped formations and there was one honking Canada Goose V formation in the air. The morning tide was very high but by the afternoon it was low enough to host a Greater Yellowlegs,

The Tupelo berry harvest has been completed; as far as I can tell, there are no berries left and the big hip crowds of berry eaters -- Robins, Flickers, Catbirds, House Finches -- were not to be seen. An exception was the Goldfinches; the thistles are just about done but there are still groups of Goldfinches around, mast of them young of the year.

A propos of the question of Merlins chasing big and bigger birds, Carl Safina sent this comment: "Merlins like to play. I’ve seen merlins and peregrines chasing each other back and forth. I’ve watched merlins catching monarchs. Play, not hunting for food. I also used to train and lure-fly merlins and did a little hunting with them. Ideal prey size is sparrow-sized. They easily handle starlings. Less easily tackle mourning doves (they’re hard to catch but not too hard for merlins to handle if they catch them. I saw a merlin catch a sanderling. I’ve heard of them catching pigeons but I think that’s extreme for merlins."

Eric Salzman

Merlins and a Kingfisher on a cloudy day

Several people responded to my post about Merlins chasing birds their own size or larger with observations about Merlins chasing Blue Jays and even Flickers. But because the Merlin chases a big or bigger bird doesn't mean that the chasee ends up as Merlin prey. This morning I saw a Merlin chasing a Great Blue Heron and, frankly, I cannot imagine that Merlins catch and eat Great Blues. Just a surmise; I have no proof (and, as they say, absence of proof is not proof of absence).

I suspect that the chase instinct in predatory animals (from dogs to falcons) is triggered by flight much more than by quietly sitting. However when songbirds -- ranging from chickadees to crows -- mob a sitting predator this is no doubt a behavior, created by evolution or by learning, that results from the fact that predators are dangerous (to them or to their young) and need to be chased away. John Heidecker pointed out that he saw Blue Jays actively chasing a Merlin but it was during nesting season when they may have been particularly concerned to protect their nestlings.

Saw a Belted Kingfisher actually catch a fish in our pond. She flew up to the dead Red Cedar on the far side but, as soon as she saw me sitting there, she took off with her catch to swallow it somewhere else. I find that the Kingfisher is one of our wildest birds and cannot stand a close human presence.

Eric Salzman

another 2016 fall morning

Today's new bird: a Marsh Wren in the reeds near the head of the marsh and very responsive to my pishing sounds, offering extensive clear looks. This bird is regular as a migrant hereabouts but surprisingly uncommon as a breeder. Has a distinctive chip (if I only I could remember it from year to year).

Two large Red-tailed Hawks trailed by a screaming parade of crows and jays and two Merlins streaking across the creek were the raptors of the day.

Fairly big influx of Northern Flickers, many of them spotting the red-flecked Tupelos and eating their black berries (along with a smaller parade of Robins, Catbirds and finches). All the warblers seem to have moved on.

Eric Salzman

a kinglet! Indigo Buntings! White-throated Sparrow! Palm Warblers!

Beautiful cool clear weather brought a noticeable arrival of migrants this morning including several firsts of the season: a Ruby-crowned Kinglet (always a delight to see), a White-throated Sparrow, seen and heard (loud alarm chinks), and two female or young Indigo Buntings (best identified by their total lack of any field marks other than their light brownish coloration and finch-like bill). Also more Catbirds seem to have arrived; at least they were all over the place; not just in and around the Tupelos but almost everywhere. A 'new' berry, the so-called Chinaberry, is now ripe and the Catbirds were gulping it down along with a handsome Baltimore Oriole in what I think was an immature male plumage (quite bright yellow-orange). Also taking the Tupelo berries were Robins, woodpeckers (Red-bellied and Flicker), Blue Jays and Crows, Gold- and House Finches. The overall numbers of Robins and Goldfinches seems to be down somewhat as the Tupelo berry resource is devoured by literally flocks of berry eaters.

Two very different flying creatures surprised me by apparently nectaring on the male Groudsel or Baccharis flowers: a somewhat late Ruby-throated Hummingbird and, halleluijah, a Monarch Butterfly.

P.S.: A half a dozen Palm Warblers were at the dried up pond behind the SOFO Museum in the mid-afternoon.

Eric Salzman

bad weather predators

Last night's Screech Owl screeching (actually more a sort of tremolo trilling than screeching) ushered in a distinct change of weather. The morning broke with fairly strong winds from the northeast and a gloomy overcast, sprinkly and coolish, with scudding clouds overhead. October weather in the last week of September. Even in those conditions, some of the colors of fall shone through, notably the the Seaside Goldenrod, now approaching full bloom and ditto for the Baccharis halimifolia or Groundsel Bush with its greenish male flowers and female pappuses (pappi?) about to sprout a feathery bundle all around the marsh and some distance inland. Similarly, the pappus of the Pilewort has puffed out all over the place in a striking dandelion-like display that is equally intended for wind dispersal. Also the whites of the Pearly Everlasting, the purple stems and berries of the Pokeweed and the many striking red leaves that dot the Tupelos at the head of the marsh add to the overall effect even on a gloomy day.

All this sounds charming but in fact, it was an unpleasant walk; the weather was spiteful, the light was terrible and the birds few in number. I decided to cut it short and turned down the old right-of-way to head home. Almost immediately I spotted a Merlin -- not far from where I had previously seen this species -- sitting upright on a dead branch and working over an obvious catch, probably one of the birds that have been common in the head-of-marsh area. Unlike the previous encounters, it did not suffer my spying on its prandial exploits and took off before I could identify its breakfast. I'm becoming convinced that all three birds are the same bird, a migrant who has settled in (for now) in a spot where he/she can easily find food. Even the poor light probably works in favor of this sharp-eyed, super predator surprising its prey with a swift dart..

P.S.: Terrence Sullivan, commenting on my remarks about the lack of Blue Jay harassment, tells me that he has seen and photographed a Merlin chasing a much larger Flicker and being in turn harassed and chased by Blue Jays! Do Merlin spend much time on prey bigger than themselves? I still think that most of their catch consists of small and medium-small song birds. 

P.P.S. As the weather brightened this afternoon, the multiple Wild Turkey brood made a spectacular appearance, working on the grass seed and other vegetable matter inn the open areas on the front and side of the house. They must be finding adequate nourishment for almost two dozen big birds since the young turks are almost as full-grown as the adults.:

Eric Salzman

a beautiful scary falcon

An exceptionally cool, dry morning and the first sighting -- a Parula Warbler -- suggested that the place might be hopping but that did not really turn out to be the case. It was low tide and at the muddy edge of the pond there was a Yellow-crowned Night Heron (mashing up a good-sized crab) and a young one nearby. But most of the action was still at the head-of-the-marsh Tupelos. The big Catbird influx continued with gray, black-capped, tail waggers all over. Am Robins were down a bit in numbers as were the finches, Gold and House.

The big show was a cool but mean-looking Merlin sitting nearby on a dead branch right out in the open near our old right-of-way. It was not far from where I saw a Merlin a week or two ago. Like its predecessor, this was a dark-backed bird with heavy breast streaking, a stripy tail, a noticeable eye stripe and a faint but noticeable mustache mark making it a male bird from the so-called taiga race. I don't know if it was the same bird as the one seen earlier but it was closer in, better seen and extremely tame; it didn't fly as I approached it from underneath for quite some time, allowing me some great looks. A few Blue Jays came by calling but, as before, they did not go after it. The Blue Jays and the Merlin are almost the same size so perhaps the Blue Jays realize that the Merlin is not a serious enemy. None of the smaller birds even dared to come near; in fact, the invisibility and/or disappearance of small passerines may have been due to the presence of the falcon.

Eric Salzman

mad for the Tupelo berries

Lots of birds in and out of the Tupelo trees at the the head of the marsh. The obvious attraction is the berries but I suspect there is also insect prey for those insectivores: Easterm Wood-pewee, Eastern Phoebe and Great Crested Flycatcher plus a number of Redstarts with at least one in adult male plumage (the only other warbler was a Yellowthroat in the marsh). Veritable troupes of American Robins and Gray Catbirds were all over the place, jumping in and out of the Tupelos (or Pepperidge or Black Gum or Beetlebung or Nyssa Sylvatica) whose leaves are turning bright red, probably to signal to the world that the berries underneath ar ripe (the berries are black and often hidden beneath but the red leaves stand out). The Catbirds often pluck the berries by darting up from the underbrush and nipping them off in whirring flight before dropping down to the dense cover underneath. Other birds joining the feast were the finches (Gold and House) a Mockingbird, and woodpeckers as well  (Downy, Red-bellied and Flicker).

There were some 'new' birds on the scene: a nice yellow female Scarlet Tanager, a Brown Thrasher and a small flock of male Cowbirds in a shiny iridescent plumage. Also two small scale entries: a handsome male Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher and a hummingbird zipping overhead.  

I forgot to mention in an earlier post that while Eileen Schwinn and I were searching for the Connecticut Warbler on Tuesday morning, we saw Chipping and Swamp Sparrows, the advance guard of what we hope will be this fall's October sparrow migration. And yes, the season has already turned: Happy Fall! 

Eric Salzman

fog

Heavy fog this morning blanking out Dune Road, Pine Neck and, for a while, even the Town Dock. I could see a Raccoon padding around in the mud at the mouth of the pond but not much else. As the sun pushed through and the fog began to lift (and the Raccoon took off for his daytime nap), I made my way out into the marsh and was surprised to see a Merlin sitting on a branch of a dead tree almost over my head. Like many arctic birds, the Merlin is remarkably tame and he/she refused to budge even as I approached him; eventually he did fly off. This wasn't the only raptor of the morning. A beautiful mature-plumaged Cooper's Hawk -- red cross streaking on the breast, blueish back plumage --  was also sitting out in the open on a dead branch further up the trail, a perch from which he could presumably have an overview of the entire head of the marsh. As the mist cleared, other birds began to appear starting with a couple of Blue Jays who quickly discovered the hawk and began to call for assistance. Other calling Blue Jays arrived and one of them even had the courage to dive bomb the hawk -- from above to be sure -- emitting that scary cracking sound that Blue Jays seem to reserve for hawk attacks. Eventually the Cooper's took off and landed, first in the big Tupelo nearby and then in a more distant dead tree from which it took off over the treetops.

With the hawk out of sight, the smaller birds were free to resume their breakfast, mostly popping in and out of the Tupelos which still had plenty of berries. The berry eaters were mostly Gray Catbirds, American Robins and American Goldfinches but mixed in were a number of insect eaters that were clearly migrants: an Eastern Wood-pewee, a Great Crested Flycatcher, several Red-eyed Vireos and a number of warblers: American Redstarts (including a handsome mature male), a Common Yellowthroat and, once again, a Wilson's Warbler (this was not far from where we saw one yesterday). There were also a number of woodpeckers in the area including several Downies. A squabble between two of the Downies -- possibly two young birds of the year -- was amusing to watch as they circled on opposite sides of the same treetrunk with their heads and beaks pointed straight up in the air. As one left the protection of the trunk and tried to fly the other bird immediately went after it and an aerial dogfight ensued, ending only when the birds returned to their tree trunk merry-go-round.

Eric Salzman

warblers and finches

Eileen Schwinn came over yesterday (in the rain!) and again this morning (humid and overcast but no rain) to search for the Connecticut Warbler. Wr didn't find it or much of anything else in yesterday's downpour. Today the place was full of birds trying, one presumes, to make up for a lost day. Alas, no Connecticut but we did see American Redstart and a handsome WILSON'S WARBLER, not quite as rare as the Connecticut but always a good bird to locate.

Otherwise the American Goldfinches have virtually taken over the place. These tiny finches were extremely common around the head of the marsh and adjacent areas that were impacted by Sandy. The reasons are not hard to find. Goldfinches are about as vegetarian as any bird and, to their delight, this area is now full of ripening seeds and berries: Thistle, Pilewort, Groundsel Bush, Marsh Elder, Poison Ivy, Tupelo, and Pokeweed among others. Because these food sources ripen in late August and early September, the Goldfinches adjust their breeding schedule so that mating and nest building takes place in July and the young hatch out and mature in August, long after most other birds have finished with their nesting duties and are starting to move around or even migrate. The Goldfinch female lays four to six eggs and most of these birds are now out of the nest and flying on their own. The visible population has tripled or quadrupled and the fledglings are beginning to feed themselves. They are easily recognizable as they zip around with abandon, often chasing each other and stopping to perch high on dead branches to survey the scene; some are still begging from the adults but most seem to be feeding themselves. Their twittering calls are often given in flight: per-Chick-o-ree is the usual mnemonic, easily recognizable by its rhythmic character as the birds perform their dipping flight. Many of the males are still in breeding plumage (golden yellow with a jaunty black cap} and sometimes scraps of their pretty little song can still be heard.

The Goldfinches are joined in their endeavors by the larger and somewhat less jaunty House Finches. Again their flocks, although much smaller, now consist mostly of young birds although they are usually in the company of at least one red-splashed adult male.

Eric Salzman

Nashville Warbler? No!

As I was coming up the trail leading to the head of the marsh, a warbler popped up and perched prettily on a dead branch all out in the open. Unmarked olive green upper parts, gray head, fat round eye ring, washed out chin and upper breast color neatly separated by a distinct line from the yellow color underneath that extended all the way to the undertail coverts. Nashville Warbler, no? NO! It took me while but I finally did the inevitable double-take. The bird was a juvenile CONNECTICUT WARBLER! I didn't get a good look at the legs but everything else -- the habitat, the pop-up perch, the hood-like effect of the head with a marked line separating it from the yellow underparts, even the washed out chin -- says immature Connecticut, probably a male (due to the very grayish head). This bird is a ground nester and ground feeder in the boreal forest and birders in the NYC parks have the privilege of seeing it walk on the ground but this is very difficult here due to the dense undergrowth at the edge and head of the marsh. This is not the first time I've found it. I first saw here it 1993 and for two or three years after and then again in 2007, always in late September and on the marsh edge not far from this morning's sighting. It is, I suspect, a regular migrant but it just requires some luck to pop it up. Ironically, I have never seen this bird anywhere else!

Eric Salzman

warblers, goldenrod, butterflies

Best warbler day yet. Not a lot of birds overall but over a half a dozen species of warblers: the four P's --  Palm, Pine, Prairie and Parula -- plus Northern Waterthrush, Redstart and Yellowthroat. Red-eyed Vireos still around. Also Ruby-throated Hummingbird; a single bird circled around me even to the extent of hovering right in front of my face.

I have been watching the development of the many Seaside Goldenrods scattered around the pond and marsh edges. These plants are amazingly hardy, growing in sandy soil near the water. It has thick leaves and might almost be considered a succulent. It tolerates alkaline soil and salt sea spray; it also has the ability to survive a mauling or trampling. Even if beaten down, it tends to recover as if nothing happened. The spectacular displays of yellow flowers are about to burst into bloom. Besides its obvious attractiveness, it's a favorite with nectaring insects including butterflies.

Speaking of butterflies, the numbers have been low in this dry summer, especially since the Tiger and Spicebush Swallowtails seem to have stopped flying. I did see a single Monarch and a handsome Pearl Crescent basking in the early sunshine on this cool morning.

Eric Salzman

a front produces migrants

Last night's front moving across our area produced little rain but a fair number of migrants. The most common 'new' bird was Red-eyed Vireo but there were a few warblers as well. The easiest ones to ID were a Common Yellowthroat and a Prairie Warbler. The others were "confusing fall warblers", a category named by Roger Tory Peterson in his famous Field Guide to Eastern Birds. One of these CFWs was an all yellow bird (even its weak facial markings were yellow) but it was not a Yellow Warbler. Well perhaps the plumage was not altogether yellow; it showed white tail spots when it flew. This confusing warbler was an immature female Hooded Warbler, one of the most difficult of the fall warblers to pinpoint and always a good bird in these parts! The other warbler was equally a challenge. With its contrast between light underparts and strong black-and-white wings, it belonged to that fun category of confusion sometimes known as a 'Baypoll' Warbler -- in short, either a Bay-breasted Warbler or a Blackpoll! I didn't get any impression of even faint breast streaking so I was tending to call it a Bay-breasted but the bird was not easy to see in dense foliage and my conclusion should be rated at something less than 100% accurate!

The warblers and vireos were concentrated in the foliage surrounding the upper part of the marsh and they were accompanied by many other birds -- Catbirds, Robins, Downy and Red-bellied Woodpeckers, Chickadees, Titmice, House Finches and many Goldfinches -- most of which were feeding on the Tupelo fruits which are abundant right now. There were also a number of Eastern Phoebes which, although they are flycatchers, probably eat the Tupelo berries as well. Further out on the marsh there was a Black-crowned Night-Heron in juvenile plumage and the usual early morning parade of Royal Terns over the creek. There were Ospreys moving across and a single small pointy-winged falcon -- light underneath and probably a Kestrel (the slightly larger Merlin is almost always much darker).     

Eric Salzman

shorebird on the grass (but not alas)

Do you recognize this bird? Not a common species on Long Island and not an easy call. It can be found at this time of year in the sod farm fields around Riverhead and possibly further east. It usually arrives in late August or early September but is gone by mid- to late September. We were lucky to catch it.

The grassy environment is the clue. Much as I hate lawns -- almost always supplied these days by the sod farms -- these fields do sometimes reveal birds that are almost impossible to find anywhere else. Yes, this is a Buff-breasted Sandpiper, Tryngites or Calidris subruficollis, a species that was nearly shot out a century ago and is still something of a rarity. Oddly enough, with its mate, the Pectoral Sandpiper, it is the most common N. American shorebird vagrant to Europe. That is probably because it is a super long-distance migrant, breeding in the Arctic and migrating to the Pampas grasslands in southern South America where it winters; we catch it only briefly on the way.

Buff-breasted Sandpiper is one of the grassland shorebirds that we -- Eileen Schwin (who took the picture) and myself -- had hoped to find on a ride to the North Fork (some of the others are the aforementioned Pectoral Sandpiper, the Golden Plover and Baird's Sandpiper). But the only one we found was the Buff-breasted, a dozen or so birds (we actually counted 11) in a field north of Riverhead. The smallish dove-like head which bobs up and down as it walks in the grass, the shortish bill, the speckled back plumage and the light buffy front are the main field marks of this small shore bird.

Although we didn't find any other target birds, we made a stop at the North Fork Preserve where we saw Turkey Vulture, Red-tailed Hawk, several Redstarts and a calling White-eyed Vireo (more heard than seen).

Eric Salzman

a threat display

I thought the change in weather might bring in some migrants but I couldn't go out early this morning and when I did finally do an abbreviated circuit mid-morning, there was not much around. I did catch up to a feeding flock but, except for a single Parula, I could only see and hear the regular locals (chickadees, titmice, woodpeckers, etc.). There was a Monarch flitting over the pond, always a good find these days.

But the highlight of the morning was a face-off between two Great Blue Herons on the far shore of Weesuck Creek. Heron #1 came flying in a short distance away from Heron #2 who was working the shoreline. The two herons literally faced off with spread wings and tilted heads so that their fearsome beaks were pointed almost straight up in the air. Heron #1, seemingly the aggressor, kept advancing towards the other bird, always in what seemed like an extreme threat mode and it looked like a Great Blue battle was about to commence. Heron #2 showed a somewhat weaker response but staunchly stood his or her ground and before the two could engage, Heron #1 suddenly turned around, refolded his giant wings and marched off in the other direction.

I'd never seen this before but I'm sure it was a stay-out-of-my-turf threat display and pretty impressive from a bird as big as a Great Blue. I have no idea what caused the aggressor to turn away but I suppose, like many such displays, it was more bluff than a real threat.

Eric Salzman

Palm Warblers

One new bird yesterday morning: a Yellow Palm Warbler. Like the previously reported Tennessee Warbler, this Palm Warbler is an eye-striper and is yellow underneath; however, it has faint breast striping and is bright yellow under the tail (the Tennessee is white under the tail). Most significantly, the Palm Warbler's tail is constantly in motion, being wagged or pumped up and down. This seems early for this species which is better known as a sometime winter (and late fall/early spring) migrant, often seen with Yellow-rumped Warblers which arrive in October (birders' nicknames for these two birds are 'pumps and rumps').

Interestingly enough, another Palm Warbler was seen this morning. It was a different bird because, unlike yesterday's bird which was a Yellow Palm Warbler (the Eastern subspecies), this was a Western Palm Warbler with bright yellow undertail coverts and a rather markedly striped but quite un-yellow breast! So within two days, we have had both subspecies!

Other birds still being seen (and heard): Royal Terns and Belted Kingfisher. Also Eastern Phoebe. All the Eastern Phoebes now being seen have light lemony yellow underparts. Does this indicate a first molt from the fledgling plumage or is this a characteristic of northern birds now here in migration?

Eric Salzman

early birds

It pays to get up and out early and it gets easier and easier to do so as the sun rises later and later every day. The official local time for sunrise in East Quogue is approaching 6:30 but, even though we face east, the trees of Pine Neck and the morning clouds -- common at this season -- delay the sun's appearance somewhat.

The early light just before sunrise offers a good chance to find rails and other marsh birds but this morning's early bird roundup was a little different. As I sat myself down by the pond to wait for the sun, I spotted two COMMON NIGHTHAWKS coming over the creek. This creature always struck me as a kind of Darth Vader bird surrounded by mystery. It is a nightjar, not a hawk -- a relative of Whip-poor-wills and Chuck-will's Widows. It is dark in color with long pointy wings that have a racing stripe down the middle and it hawks insects high in the sky at dawn and dusk and sometimes well into the night (generally where there are night lights to attract moths and other insects). It used to nest in open areas of the Pine Barrens but it is famous for having taken to breeding on flat rooftops in towns and cities -- night light habitats with lots of insects. This was a safe place until the rather recent proliferation of American Crows into urban and suburban areas; the crows have apparently learned to predate the roof-nesting birds. For this and other reasons, Nighthawk populations are down and I haven't seen them much in recent years. This is migration season for these birds; like other insect eaters they must go south before cold weather takes a toll on their prey. On the East End of Long Island the best time and place to see them is right now on the North Shore; when we visited the Baiting Hollow Hummingbird Sanctuary last week, we saw half a dozen or so moving along the bluffs between the Harbor Hills moraine and Long Island Sound. (It was overcast and they were on the move rather early in the day.) We used to see them regularly down here on the South Shore as well, mostly at this time of the year and time of the day, but it has been a number of years now that we have been nighthawkless.

This wasn't the morning's only good bird. As I worked my way up the trail to the head of the marsh and, as is my wont, tried to peer into the dense foliage that lines the trail -- mostly the two species of High Tide Bush, Ivo and Baccharis -- a bird with a striking white eyering and a bright yellow breast popped up: A YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT! Again, this is or was a rare nester on Long Island and I used to see it regularly in fall migration in just this spot. It even appeared in the spring, often singing away but never stayed to nest. Like the Nighthawk, I haven't seen it much recently but it's an elusive bird of dense thickets and always a good find.    

Eric Salzman

raptors

A big raptor was perched on a dead tree back of the marsh; when I arrived, it took off making a pretty impressive scream. Unfortunately the sky was overcast and the early morning light was distinctly poor so I wasn't able to make out any details. The bird was, by wing shape and silhouette (broad wings, rather short tail), almost certainly a buteo -- not a falcon, not an accipiter, not an eagle -- so that reduces the likely possibilities considerably. It wasn't a Red-tailed Hawk -- it seemed somewhat smaller and the scream was the wrong scream, nothing like Buteo jamaicensis. I immediately thought of Broad=winged Hawk -- not a common migrant in these parts but but definitely an early September migrant. But that species has a rather wimpy whistle, even less like the protest call of this bird. If I rule out the Western buteos as truly unlikely, that leaves Red-shouldered Hawk which is not a common raptor hereabouts but certainly a possibility. I have one good record from 2011 and the scream seems right but I'll never be completely certain.

This has been a good time for raptors. The Merlin that I reported on Tuesday was still here yesterday (at least I think it was the same bird) and this time it was being chivvied by the Blue Jays who caught my attention with the horrible cracking sound that they make in the presence of raptors. Don't know why they ignored Tuesday's perched Merlin but they didn't ignore it yesterday morning. Merlin was also seen yesterday on Dune Road and it has been seen in the Riverhead Sod Fields. As I have mentioned before, I think the Merlins move with the big Tree Swallow migration which probably originates in the Merlin's northerly breeding grounds.

The Great Horned Owl was in top hooting form last night. He didn't get any response for a while but eventually a female chimed in. Her pitch was just a tone higher than his and eventually the two overlapped creating a dissonant owl duet (and proving that there were indeed two birds involved)

Eric Salzman

a jaunty godwit

Took a ride to Mecox Bay with Eileen Schwinn and Mike Higgiston (the E. Quogue Birding Contingent). I used to do a lot of birding here but this was my first visit in a while. When the cut at Mecox is opened up by the town -- the so-called Seapoose (the word is Shinnecock for "little river") -- the level of the bay is considerable reduced and a series of flats are opened up that can be very birdy. At the moment however, the cut is closed and the bay is brim full with just a few high-rent sandy flats available for bird perching. Even so, there were some good birds, notably a very active HUDSONIAN GODWIT. Either godwit is a good find but of the two North American species, this one is by far the rarer and it was a treat to see it racing around the sand spit shorelines, sometimes venturing out into the wind-whipping waters around, looking quite jaunty with its upturned bill and long legs (in spite of a possibly injured right leg which perhaps only added to the jauntiness). The photo, although taken with a phone through the lens of a spotting scope, gives a good idea of what this bird is about.

Among the Great Black-back, Herring and Ring-billed Gulls loafing on the beach, there was a single LESSER BLACK-BACKED GULL (lighter back than the nearby Great Black-backs, yellow legs). Most of the rest of the birds resting on the sand spits in the bay were Forster's and Royal Terns but there were a few Common Terns, five Black Skimmers (two adults, three young), and a small selection of shorebirds (Semipalmated and Black-belled Plovers, Sanderlings, Ruddy Turnstone, Semipalmated Sandpiper). Many swallows, mostly Tree, passing overhead.

On our way back, we took Dune Road from Shinnecock Inlet to Quogue and, at a couple of stops, we found Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs, a Short-billed Dowitcher, a Willet, a lot of egrets (many Snowies as well as Great) and still more -- or the same? -- Tree Swallows.

Eric Salzman

a Merlin and a sea watch

A Merlin was perched on a branch of a dead tree near the head of the marsh early this morning. While it might seem early for the arrival of this northern falcon, I have seen this bird at the end of August or in early September almost every year; I think it follows the Tree Swallow migration which is at its peak right now. This was a dark bird, heavily streaked on the breast, somewhat flat-headed (as Merlins tend to be) and with a barely visible cheek mark. It was doing its toilette while remaining alert and constantly looking around -- whether for prey or for predator I don't know. Strangely enough, other local birds including several Goldfinches came quite near without showing signs of either fear or anger. A couple of Blue Jays came in to check it out but, after calling for assistance a few times (and not getting any response from other Blue Jays), simply took off. The Merlin was openly exposed and yet the expected anti-raptor ganging up that occurs with owls and larger hawks did not occur. Do the smaller birds not recognize a threat?

There were reports of pelagics blown in close to the shore by Hermine so Eileen Schwinn, Lorna and myself took a spin down Dune Road to see what we could see. What we found was (1) a very wet Dune Road inundated at high tide, (2) a spectacularly stormy ocean with breakers crashing onto the upper beach, (3) a lot of Cormorants, almost all heading west, (4) many Sanderlings, almost all heading east, (5) quite a few Tree Swallows heading in both directions, (6) many gulls of the usual persuasions, (7) a few very distant pelagic possibiiities, none of which were easily identifiable even with the use of spotting scopes. Ah, well, better luck next hurricane.

Eric Salzman

owl music

Great Horned Owls have been duetting the past two nights within earshot of our bedroom. The male hoots in a very distinctive rhythm; in musical notation it would be a quarter note, an eighth note, a dotted quarter, an eighth rest followed by a quarter note and another eighth rest followed by a quarter note (I have never figured out how to do musical notation in an e-mail). The female responses are similar but slightly varied and a fourth higher. Eventually she drops out but the male continues for quite a while. Is this the start of courtship for these birds? Great Horned Owls start nesting in the winter so they typically pair up and court in the fall. They don't nest here but are still fairly common in the Pine Barrens north of us (I have found single owls on the property only three or four times, usually because the crows put up a huge ruckus). So it was a bit remarkable to hear two birds in concert. The hooting was rather soft but this was perhaps due to the sound coming from some distance through the trees and through a partially open window.

The morning weather turned out quite differently from what I expected. After surmounting a few morning clouds, the sun emerged into a blue sky with moderate winds coming from the east/northeast. Birds were by and large hunkered down except for the woodpeckers (Downy, Hairy and Red-bellied) which were everywhere. There were some high-flying swallows (Trees mostly) and a few House- and Goldfinches finally appeared. Over the past two days, I've seen Eastern Phoebe, Northern Waterthrush and American Redstart plus the usual suspects. No sign of the owls in broad daylight; they either hide themselves in the foliage quite well (so that the crows can't find them) or they have moved on.

Eric Salzman

pre-Hermine

Pre-Hermine:

--A medium-sized Accipiter flying over the marsh and crossing the creek early this morning; could have been a female Sharp-shinned or a male Cooper's (I would choose the former but it was far from certain in the poor light).

--A very noisy Hairy Woodpecker female enjoying our plethora of dead wood.

--House Wrens everywhere -- mostly young birds. At the edge of the marsh I heard an unusual buzzy call which turned out to be coming from an agitated wren. But I never got a good look; it may have been a House Wren juvenile or possibly another species; I'll look for it tomorrow. 

--Many Goldfinches but no House Finches (after several days when they were the most common bird around).

--Royal Terns and Forster's Terns on the creek.

--According to one source, the Rufous Hummingbird at Jessup's Neck (Morton Refuge) was a young male (I thought it was a young female but I am no expert in the juvenile plumages of stray Western hummingbirds). In any case, it has apparently moved on and is no longer being seen.

Happy Labor Day Hurricane!

Eric Salzman

a special place

I had heard about Paul Adams' Baiting Hollow Hummingbird Sanctuary but I had no idea how beautiful it was (the attached pictures give only a very small idea of what this place is like). Paul Adams is a Professor of Neurobiology and Behavior at Stony Brook and a MacArthur 'genius' award winner. He is also a passionate admirer of hummingbirds and he has created this sanctuary on his property in the Harbor Hills glacial moraine in Baiting Hollow, a stunning site overlooking the bluffs and Long Island Sound, surrounded by as-yet pristine forests and filled with native and garden flowers as well as feeders, all set up to attract (you guessed it) hummingbirds. So this is a partnership between nature and a most singular man! As readers of this blog will recognize, he is also the videographer of our East Quogue hummingbirds which he photographed on two occasions during their nesting. After that, there was no way that we could resist his invitation to see his masterpiece!

August is the time of year when the Ruby-throated Hummingbirds start to move south. Their population has much as doubled and, when we went to visit yesterday, the tiny creatures were everywhere. Baiting Hollow Sanctuary is a place where hummingbirds gather and fatten up for the long journeys that await them. Most of the birds were juveniles but, young as they were, they were all expert in flying, hovering, flower feeding and, above all, chasing. These chases were nothing short of spectacular and often culminated in furious split-second aerial battles sometimes involving three or even four hummers! Apparently, they set up small territories and then defend them from poaching. Sometimes one hummer will sneak into another's patch by staying low in the foliage but, almost invariably, they are discovered and another aerial battle and/or high speed whiz-bam chase ensues. It's almost inconceivable the amount of energy that these pixie creatures must expend searching, feeding, defending, chasing and, eventually, migrating; the flowers apparently offer a very high quality octane fuel for all this. As I think I mentioned before, there's a famous study that concluded that the hummingbirds cannot store enough energy in the form of fat to cross the Gulf of Mexico in flight; fortunately, the hummingbirds do not seem to have read the paper and continue these long over-water flights. Some winter on the Gulf and southern Atlantic coasts of the U.S. but most cross the Gulf to winter in Mexico and Central America.

More information about the sanctuary is available at the Baiting Hollow Hummingbird Sanctuary web site (from which the attached photos are taken).

There was actually more to the sanctuary than 'just' the hummers. Also visiting the great variety of flowers, there were large numbers of insects, mostly bees and dragonflies that were apparently feeding on the insects. The most spectacular insect that we saw was a Clearwing Sphinx Moth with bright yellow markings; this diurnal sphinx moth feeds exactly like a hummingbird.

Moving across the Sanctuary bluffs as well as the farm fields to the south were large numbers of Tree Swallows, also in migration. Best of all, there were some half a dozen Common Nighthawks passing by one at a time, all heading west (and eventually south), flying between the bluffs and the Sound. In spite of their name, these large nightjars are neither common nor are they hawks but they are indeed very falcon-like in flight with long pointed wings which are marked by a white stripe at the base of the primaries. Their flight is quite spectacular with deep wing beats and long glides. They are, for various reasons, a declining species and the migration on the LI north shore (they can be seen from Sound Avenue) at this time of year offers the best chance to see them. They tend to appear at dusk but, with an overcast sky yesterday, they were flying a bit earlier in the day than expected. It was a nice bonus to our hummingbird day.

Eric Salzman

a family favorite

This has been a poor mushroom summer due, I'm sure, to the lack of rain. However a big Chicken Mushroom did pop up a few days ago -- even before the rains finally came last night and this morning. Here's a picture of me -- taken by my son-in-law Jean-Louis Carbonnier -- holding the specimen in question. This mushroom -- formerly known as Polyporous sulphureus -- is now classified as Laetiporus sulphureus (the second name refers to the yellow-orange color). It is a parasite on wood, dead or alive, and generally shelves our like some kin of exotic dry land coral. It was one of the few mushrooms that I could recognize as a kid and my mother, under the tutelage of an elderly Alsatian neighbor, sometimes collected it. This specimen was very clean and, after stripping off the soft growing lobes, we blanched and froze them for future culinary use. It has long been a family favorite.

Eric Salzman

back at the ranch

Back at the ranch. No Rufous Hummingbirds around here although there are still some Ruby-throats (locals hanging out or passage birds coming through). A glorious morning that looked promising for migrants but few stopped by. There was a young Eastern Towhee and a young Cedar Waxwing -- similar to one seen at Morton yesterday -- and the now usual numbers of House Finches and Goldfinches. There is also a B-c Chickadee flock (not the Morton kind that will feed from your hand) and they have in tow an Eastern Phoebe, a couple of Am Redstarts and a plain jane Pine Warbler (an immature female with just a bare trace of wing bars and almost no other markings).

In the non-migratory world of flowers we have Sea Lavender in full bloom, Saltmarsh Aster emerging and starting to bloom amidst the Spartina patens, and that most beautiful of yellow flowers, the Evening Primrose which blooms at night and lasts only into the following morning.   

Eric Salzman

a stray hummingbird

Ever see a hummingbird like the one pictured here around these parts? It's a Rufous Hummingbird and, in theory, it belongs in the Pacific Northwest (where it breeds), the Rocky Mountains (through which it migrates) and/or Mexico (where it is supposed to winter). Technically I should say it's either a Rufous or an Allen's Hummingbird, two closely related western hummers which are often difficult -- not to say impossible -- to tell apart especially in their various immature plumages. However, Allen's is a truly great rarity in the northeast (I don't think that there's a confirmed record for New York State but I could be wrong). Rufous, on the other hand, has turned out to be a regular wanderer and there are a whole bunch of records for New York and the Northeast.

The bird pictured above is at a feeder at the Morton Wildlife Refuge (Jessup's Neck) in Noyack. Eileen Schwinn and I drove up this morning to find it and it turned up almost as soon as we arrived! It is a compact bird with shortish wings and, as you can see in the picture, a lot of rufous all around. I would guess that this is a subadult female Rufous (the odds are certainly in favor of Rufous) but someone more experienced than I with western hummingbirds may have another opinion. Either way, this bird is 45 degrees and close to 3000 miles off course!

Or is it? Rufous Hummingbird (if that's what it is) is the most northerly breeding hummingbird of the more than 300 species. It also has one of the longest migrations of any of its kind which may account for its relatively high probability of wandering. Birds with big migrations are the most likely to turn up in unlikely places. It also may be that climate change is having an effect on the migrational and winter habits of this species. If so, these birds may be the harbingers of change!

Yes, the hummingbird picture is by Eileen Schwinn. And so is the inevitable picture of me feeding a Black-capped Chickadee by hand. As is well known, Morton is the place where chickadees (also titmice, nuthatches and even Downy Woodpeckers) will take seed from your hand. Hummingbirds don't eat seeds but you can get almost as close to them as they come in to the feeders. Best to get there early; we found that, after a while, the local (or passing) Ruby-throated Hummingbirds wake up and, being more aggressive (and perhaps slightly bigger), they chase away the unexpected visitor which then becomes more difficult to see.

Eric Salzman

finches

Big flocks of House Finches -- many juveniles as well as adult males and females -- all around the edge and head of the marsh. This is a bird that was severely decimated by an eye disease in recent years so this marks a major return of a once common species. The history of this Haemorhous 'rosefinch' is rather strange as it was once considered a desert (or semi-desert) species of the southwest and Mexico; it appeared in the East only in the 1940s or so with the back story that a pet dealer somewhere on Long Island was illegally selling them as "Hollywood Finches"; staying one step ahead of the Feds (it was and is illegal by Federal law to sell native species), he liberated them to the wild. They were not included in the early editions of the Peterson Field Guide and for many years, people called them Purple Finches, a distinctly different (and much less common) rosefinch on Long Island. The House Finches, well adapted to suburban and even urban habitats, prospered and spread from Long Island to the entire northeast and then westward. Their western cousins were also doing well and expanding eastward. Eventually the two populations met somewhere in the middle and interbred successfully and their range now covers most of temperate North America.

These House Finches are feeding on the seeds of Iva frutscens (Marsh Elder or High Tide Bush) which is common along the edges of the marsh. They mix easily with the American Goldfinches which also like the Iva seeds. The two finches are not much alike. The House Finches are bigger and more sparrowy and the mature males are quite red and have a pleasant finch song (although not at this season). The Goldfinches are small and yellowy with black-and-white wings; the males are bright yellow and have a black cap and a variety of high-pitched songs. What they have in common is their flocking nature and appetite for small seeds.

I spent a lot of time looking for other finches among the House- and Gold- but without any luck. Anyway, it's still early in the fall season.

All three larger flycatchers were around. There were two Eastern Kingbirds on the dead Red Cedar on our pond as well as at least one Phoebe and one Great Crested. Still no smaller flycatchers. On the creek: Forster's and Royal Terns, Great Blue and Green Herons as well as Belted Kingfisher.

Eric Salzman

birds in bunches

At this time of the year, local birdlife tends to resemble the tropics with the birds bunched up in feeding flocks and lots of quiet in between. Often there are several individuals of the same species, probably forming a family group. Adults travel with their young of the year even after they stop being fed by mommy and daddy; the young are undoubtedly learning what's good to eat and where to find it (and probably other things as well) by observing the adults. This morning I saw a cluster of five Downy Woodpeckers working their way along the dead trees at the edge of the marsh and pond, rapping on wood, flying about, even squabbling a bit; usually I see no more than one or two Downies at a time. Young Common Yellowthroats were also numerous in one particular area with at least one adult female; this bird does not usually show in numbers but there they were. Other birds that appear bunched up were Chickadees, House Finches and American Goldfinches (but these birds are flockers by nature).

And yet, in spite of dry sunny weather, I would not have called this a good morning for birds.

On the creek, Royal Terns staged something of an invasion, also marked by adults flying and diving for fish with their young in tow. Also a few Tree Swallows cavorting overhead and a Great Crested Flycatcher still active at the head of the marsh.

Eric Salzman

another nest discovery

I went Beach Plumming at Peconic Bay with modest success on the plum picking (plums rather dry probably due to a lack of rain and low water table) but a couple of good bird observations. One was the continuing presence of Tree Swallows mainly over a nearby salt marsh; I haven't checked Dune Road but there will be a lot of Tachycineta bicolor moving along the barrier beach now or very soon. Twittering and chittering from a branch of a small Sumac tree prompted me to search the tree where I found a nest with noisy chicks pestering an adult Am Goldfinch. It is well known that this species is our latest nester but this was the first time I have ever found a Goldfinch nest. In spite of the fact that our East Quogue place is literally overrun and overflown by Goldfinches, I have never found their nest here; this one was easy because of the noisy chicks. And, indeed, August 26 with young not yet fledged is indeed a late date for a small songbird.

The other event of the morning (pre-Beach Plum) was a large falcon chasing a Belted Kingfisher. The Kingfisher got away. The falcon -- bold, big pointy wings, powerful looking -- veered off and flew up the marsh. Undoubtedly a Peregrine and the first of the season out here.

Eric Salzman

Buzz-saw Cicada

I actually was able to find a cicada this morning -- a Dog-day Cicada -- and watch it 'sing'. I was sitting in my hummingbird chair following the two hummers (probably the same youngsters who hatched out of the adjacent nest) chase each other around. Suddenly a very loud cicada started to sing (or is it call?) from a pine tree right in back of me. I twisted my head but couldn't see anything; cicadas are notoriously difficult to spot even when they are right next to you. A moment later it sang/called again from another tree, also behind me. This time I was able to twist my head in time to catch the insect in flight It landed on a third perch on the underside of a dead pine branch and I was able to lift up my binoculars and find the insect where it had landed. It looked more dark than green with transparent wings and, amazingly enough, I could actually see the vibrations of its so-called 'tymbal' as it made its characteristic buzz-saw song -- opening crescendo, sustained buzz for c. 10-12" and then fade-out. It called twice from this perch and then took off again. Wow! So much life around us and so much that we usually don't get to see!

Fairly quiet morning otherwise. There was a bedraggled sparrow at the edge of the marsh trying to dry off in the sun; it was clearly not a Song Sparrow (and not a Grasshopper or other Ammodramus sparrow either). I think it was an early Swamp Sparrow, a bird that arrives in numbers later in the fall but is usually not seen here so early (however it does breed on Eastern LI in a few fresh or brackish marshes so this could have been a local bird).

Also a couple of hummingbirds at the head of the marsh (far from the nest tree) and, as I trudged back to the house, the passing Wild Turkey parade in all its glory.

Eric Salzman

Night to Day

There's a whole natural sequence that starts in the evening and goes through the next morning and, at this time of the year at least, it's pretty dependable. The Katydids start in at dusk making a fearful racket but this fades in the early morning hours, leaving only the steady buzz of the night cicadas (species?). Screech Owl has been calling the past few nights; it's very dependable at this time of year but I'm not sure if these are wandering birds or if they begin their amours this early (Great Horned Owls definitely do their courting and mating in the fall and early winter). Pre-dawn is the best time to see and hear rails in the marsh; didn't see one this morning but there was a chicken-like call from the dense Spartina alterniflora that might have come from the Sora seen yesterday. The young Ospreys are off and flying in the pre-dawn light, calling loudly and circling over the marsh, creek and out into the bay. Crows are up early too and making noise as they congregate. As the sun comes up, the herons and egrets start moving around and a few song birds -- Common Yellowthroat, Carolina Wren, Song Sparrow -- provide us with a little morning music (most of the other birds have quit). Now the Black-capped Chickadees start moving on their rounds and the American Goldfinches are all over the place (also still singing a little). Early morning is also when the Royal Terns first appear on the creek usually followed by other terns. There are a few raptors around; yesterday morning a big Coopers Hawk came sailing across the marsh and pond -- scattering or shutting up all the other birds -- and there have also been individual Red-tailed Hawks and Turkey Vultures looking around. Other birds seen this morning: Ruby-throated Hummingbird and Blue-gray Gnatcatcher as well as many Tree Swallows, the last-named a harbinger or an offshoot of their spectacular barrier beach migration.

Eric Salzman

some nice birds on a cool northerly wind

The tide was low this morning and the air fresh with northerly winds. The sun was a bit tardy in coming up over Pine Neck (and gets tardier and tardier every day). So it was a perfect morning to make my way across the marsh to the best vantage point for overlooking the open area -- more mud than water at this stage -- just before sunrise. And, sure enough there was a rail moving along the muddy edge at the opposite side of the opening. A Clapper Rail? No, it was a SORA in juvenal plumage: conical bill, light colored breast, long yellowish legs, no face mask (and too big and too early to be a Yellow Rail). I have seen Soras in flight over the marsh a couple of times in the past but only once before did I see a bird on the ground (or, more accurately, on the mud) for an extended period. Also my previous sightings of this species were later in the fall so this August date is certainly early. However I found Soras breeding in one of the sewage ponds at a duck farm in Riverhead a number of years ago and, while I don't know if they still breed there, it is likely that they are breeding somewhere on Eastern LI!

An Ammodramus sparrow again popped up from the marsh and perched nicely on a stick of wood right in front of where I was standing. It had a a flat head, a dark cap with a thin streak running down the middle, a faint but definite eye-ring, a rather heavy beak, a buffy chin and slightly orangey cheeks; also the short tail typical of Ammodramus sparrows. In fact I think it might well have been the same juvenal Grasshpper Sparrow I saw -- in this exact spot -- two days ago.

At the head of the marsh there were a few warblers including, notably, a yellowish confusing fall warbler with a distinct eye stripe and lighter yellowish undertail coverts. I have seen this warbler quite regularly in the last half of August and, many years ago, I mistakenly called it an Orange-crowned Warbler (another yellowish eye-striper). Bad call. It was pointed out to me that there are no substantiated records for Orange-crowned any earlier than September (and even that is early for this bird). I'm happy to report that this was undoubtedly a fall Tennessee Warbler with the lemony undertail coverts as the giveaway.

Oh yes, there was also a plain Yellow Warbler and an American Redstart fanning its tail. Also in the area were two or three hummingbirds; I even saw one of them feeding on a Pokeweed flower. Don't know if this was the family that bred on the other side of the property; hummers are definitely on the move so these could have been migrants. Migration is definitely well underway and we finally have the weather to match.

Eric Salzman