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