Linnaean Field Trip

The hot weather broke just in time for yesterday's Linnaean Field Trip. The Linnaean Society is an old natural history society (the second oldest in the country) which meets at the Museum of Natural History and sponsors talks, field trips, etc. I've been doing this trip (or something like it) for many years now; it's usually billed as "Eastern Long Island specialties" and it usually starts at Shinnecock Inlet. This year, partly because of the Curlew Sandpiper, I decided to start at Cupsogue County Park just off Moriches Inlet and continuing at nearby Pike's Beach, two locations where there are many lingering shorebirds, a good collection of local breeders and various visitors including a variety of terns and possible pelagics.

The area only partly lived up its promise. The Curlew Sandpiper, a distinguished Eurasian visitor, was nowhere to be seen. The Common Terns were active but there were few Least Terns (a species that seems to be doing very badly this year) and we saw just a single Roseate Tern, apparently nesting in the Common Tern colony at the edge of the big spoil island. No other terns were seen unless you count Black Skimmer as a sort of honorary tern. And there were no pelagics unless you count a large unidentified white-winged bird flying away over the bay (possibly a Northern Gannet) and/or a Common Loon in breeding plumage lying dead on the ocean beach. Even without a Curlew Sandpiper, the shorebird collection was a lot more varied than one might expect at this time of the year: Piping Plover, Semipalmated Plover, many Black-bellied Plovers, American Oystercatcher, yellowlegs (calling; I think Lesser), Willets (including at least one Western Willet), Ruddy Turnstone, a few Red Knots (mostly on the island in front of the Pike's Beach overlook), Sanderling, one Dunlin, Semipalmated Sandpipers, a possible White-rumped Sandpiper, and quite a few Short-billed Dowitchers. The dowitchers are usually considered the first fall migrants appearing in the last week of June but, with the obvious exception of local breeders, it seems to me impossible to say where these birds are headed. In my opinion, most of the lingering migrant shore birds are immatures or sub-adults who never reach the breeding grounds in the first place but spend at least part of the summer with us before turning around and heading south.

Did I forget anything? Black-crowned Night-Hernon the marsh; a single Glossy Ibis flying overhead. The usual egrets and cormorants and lots of Barn and Tree Swallows. Osprey here, as elsewhere, seem to be doing well with young birds approaching the age of flight. Willow Flycatcher breeds here and is easily seen and heard; also Eastern Kingbird and Yellow Warbler. There are two birds that should be here but I don't know where to find them; they are the marsh sparrows: Saltmarsh and Seaside. I know where to go on Shinnecock but I still have to figure out the Cupsogue marshes.

Our next stop was Westhampton (Gabreski) Airport where, on arrival, we got a brief glimpse of a Vesper Sparrow plus a pair of Savannah Sparrows, one of which appeared to be very agitated suggesting a nearby nest. My guess is that the nervous bird that hung in close on the airport fence was the female while the second bird, keeping its distance, was its mate. Oddly enough, Savannah Sparrows are the most difficult of the grassland sparrows to locate west of Easthampton! A soaring Turkey Vulture (in the past few years a common summer sight in these parts), a soaring Red-tailed Hawk, a singing sub-adult Eastern Bluebird, Chipping Sparrows, Eastern Kingbirds, an Eastern Phoebe, Brown-headed Cowbirds and a Killdeer more or less completed the local roster at this site.

After a stop at the airport restaurant for lunch, we moved on to ex-Grumman in Calverton and its iconic grassland birds. The middle of the afternoon is not the best time to look for these birds but we did find a couple of Horned Larks, many Grasshopper Sparrows perched on mullein stalks, and many Eastern Meadowlarks, perched and flying (easy to recognize in flight with its characteristic mode of flight, short tail with white outer tail feathers). Singing at the edge of the grasslands were Field Sparrow and Prairie Warbler.

Our last stop was north of the Grumman fence on Route 25a just opposite where the Mountain Bluebird had appeared last winter. The VOR field between Rute 25 and 25a has been mowed and is no longer a propos for savannah species (although it may now be good for grassland species) which have moved one field north to a lot full of emergent Red Cedars. The star bird here is Blue Grosbeak, a species that essentially appeared as nesters in New York in Calverton and is still largely restricted to this area. The bird pictured here was photographed by Michael Lotito and is almost certainly the identical male that we saw yesterday! It made a nice finish to the day.

Eric Salzman

June bug blues?

The hot weather may be uncomfortable for some but insects and reptiles and many of the birds seem to relish it. Spicebush Swallows and Pearl Crescents have appeared along with some of the skippers. The Silver-spotted Skipper on the marsh edge is the easiest but most of the others are maddeningly unidentifiable (Delaware Skipper perhaps; in the grass outside the house). Common Green Darner has appeared with Seaside Dragonlet in the marsh along with those stocky medium-sized dark reddish-brown dragonflies that refuse to perch (a feature that might constitute a field mark; they could be Spot-winged Gliders which are known for their propensity to stay in the air). Box Turtles are active and a Ribbon or Garter Snake type put in a brief appearance. And it's not too early for June bugs (which are traditionally more like July bugs in this neck of the woods).

Yesterday's Red-eyed Vireo sang non-stop (with pauses between choruses but otherwise in a continuous series of vireo question-and-answer phrases) right up until the early evening when I went out. The bird seem to be with a troupe of Black-capped Chickadees that were working the oaks and hickories all around. There are Carolina Wren young out of the nest -- this may be a second brood -- and, by and large, the males have stopped singing. I hear only an occasional burst of the usual loud stereotypical Carolina triplets but also a kind of oddball variation in which the song keeps changing. My guess is that this oddball song is used by unattached males trying to attract a female or secure a territory while the stereotypical triplets come from a territorial male with a mate.

An immature Yellow-crowned Night-Heron was on the pond edge at low tide. This appears to be a second-year bird, class of 2011, but it still supports the idea that Yellow-crowns are nesting somewhere in the vicinity. Green Herons have been active; they definitely nest in the area, maybe even in our own home woods.

Eric Salzman

Sumer Is Icumen In

The first day of summer came in like, well, a summer's day: sunny, blue sky, high humidity and a sense of moist warmth hanging over the landscape. The tide was still fairly low and the Black-crowned Night-Heron was still poking around the edges of the pond -- at least until I arrived and spooked him. The Purple Martin colony seems to have sprung back to life and there were Martins as well as Barn Swallows working the air over the marsh which had the promise of considerable insect nourishment. A rather tuneful and colorful male Baltimore Oriole was busy in the oak tops and a White-breasted Nuthatch, perhaps our first summer wandering visitor, was moving with a Chickadee family flock that also included a Downy Woodpecker.

On the flower scene, I noticed a stand of native rose -- is it Virginia, Carolina, Pasture or Swamp Rose? I'm never quite sure -- at the head of the marsh and also along the right of way that runs parallel to the head of the marsh. The Wild Rose by our pond as well as a big stand of Germander or Wood Sage (and a lot of Poison Ivy as well) was wiped out by Hurricane Irene so I was glad to see that the rose at least has survived (I'm not worried about the Poison Ivy and as to the Germander, we'll see). These Wild Roses, unlike the cultivars, have a simple single halo of petals with a large rosette of yellow stamens in the center; the usual color of the petals is a deep rose (rather than pink). These beautiful flowers are a kind of poem to welcome summer in. As Edward McDowell put it, To a Wild Rose!

Eric Salzman

fledglings

I have been under the impression for some time now that I own this place but the crows have a different opinion. As I walk the trails around the place I am pursued by loud, angry corvids who dispute me every step of the way and in the loudest, angriest possible manner. I know that the real reason for all this brouhaha is that there are two or three broods of crow fledglings out there and that the adults are calling attention to themselves only to distract me, to let all crows in the vicinity know that a dangerous predator is lumbering through, and of course to warn their young to take care. Not that the young birds seem very concerned. They hang out in twos and threes high up in the Pitch Pines but quite in the open. How long will all this go on? Probably until the young crows start to disperse.

The crows are not the only birds to have hatched out their broods. A troupe of Black-capped Chickadees almost certainly represents a new family. The Chickadees are also noisy but their buzz-buzz-a-buzz is a minor matter compared to the raucous sound of a murder of crows. However these Chickadees are certainly feisty enough. Three of them separated themselves from the group and two of these were suddenly caught up in a series of whirlwind aerial tangles while the other watched. What was that all about? Two males fighting over a female? Or perhaps just sibling rivalry?

Their relatives, the Tufted Titmice, have been very vocal right through June but I haven't seen any evidence yet of a titmice brood. The Purple Martins, after several times of disturbing quiet, have started to move around again and I can hear their cheery chirping as they hunt insects high over the marsh and, somewhat unusually, I've seen some of them landing on the tops of trees. I had strongly suspected that the Martins may have lost young in the nest colony during the days of heavy rain earlier in the month but now I think that some of the birds I am seeing -- whitish underneath and smudgy on the upper breast and chin -- are newly fledged young ones!

Eric Salzman

Fauna-thon Day

Group for the East End's annual Fauna-thon was today and since, as I suspect, most of the participants were active to the east, Eileen Schwinn and I decided to stick to the western part of the East End. We did a survey of three or four very attractive places in Riverhead Town starting with ex-Grumman in Calverton (also known as EPCAL), continuing on to some fields north of Route 25, the Boy Scout Camp in Baiting Hollow and the new North Fork Preserve outside of Jamesport. We missed a couple of good spots, notably the Bicycle Path area outside of Eastport (so we dipped on Blue Grosbeak as that is one of the few places to find this southern species).

The grasslands at EPCAL lived up to their reputation as outstanding habitat for some of the declining and difficult LI species: Grasshopper Sparrow, Field Sparrow, Eastern Meadowlark, Horned Lark, Prairie Warbler and American Kestrel; also (somewhat surprisingly) Orchard Oriole and (less surprisingly) Wild Turkey. The Boy Scout Camp and the beautiful North Fork Preserve showed us flycatchers (Eastern Phoebe, Eastern Wood-pewee, Great Crested and Willow Flycatcher), singing Wood Thrushes (not so common these days), Belted Kingfisher, the full collection of local woodpeckers (Downy, Hairy, Flicker, Red-bellied) and both Tufted Titmice and Black-capped Chickadees. Also Yellow Warbler, Common Yellowthroat, and Blue-winged Warbler; Least Tern over the water at the Boy Scout Camp and, at the Preserve, Northern Parula and American Redstart.

Two special birds at the Preserve, both likely breeders: White-eyed Vireo (two or three birds singing away) and Rose-breasted Grosbeak (also singing). A real surprise at the Preserve was a Broad-winged Hawk, started up from one of the paths; this is a species which used to nest in Long Island woodlands but has almost disappeared. An unusual observation at the Boy Scout Camp was of two Bank Swallows above the inlet tumbling 'round and 'round over each other in what was either a pitched battle or l'amour in a very unusual form!

The day ended at the opening of the new Visitor's Center at the Wertheim National Wildlife Refuge with several Osprey, a couple of Wood Ducks, a Glossy Ibis, several Pine Warblers and a rumor of a Bald Eagle, none of which could be counted (Wertheim is in Brookhaven Town and hence not part of the East End Fauna-thon). Ah, but we did have Wood Ducks at the North Fork Preserve and even an unlikely Greater Yellowlegs. Wertheim is the estuary of one of our major rivers; North Fork Preserve is a magical upland of wooded wetlands.

Eric Salzman

flutterbys

After my mention of the big influx of early-May butterflies last week, Kristine Wallstrom sent me a copy of a recent exchange between Rick Cech and other member/subscribers of NYS Butterflies. So I wrote to Rick (with whom I once birded Ecuador) and he suggested that Red Admirals were migrating from a variety of over-wintering sites and might even possibly overwinter at some more northerly sites in pupa form (also known as chrysalis or cocoon). He also suggested that the phenomenon may not be as rare or unusual as some people think; many butterflies, not only monarchs, fly south for the winter and north in the spring and sometimes in large numbers. However I do think the current influx is unusual for two reasons: one, that is has occurred so early in the spring (the first half of May) and the other that it appears to involve a number of species (although with Red Admirals in the lead).

The early butterfly out here is usually the Mourning Cloak, one of the rare butterflies which hibernates as an adult and hence is prone to reappear on the first warm days of spring. But I didn't even see one until yesterday when two of them appeared in the sunny, warm, whitewashed pocket between our porch and the barn; they were doing a spiraling aerial dance -- either love or war, I'm not sure which. At least one Mourning Cloak was still around today. The other butterflies that I've been able to ID in the mix have included Painted Lady (or American Painted Lady -- the main difference seems to be in the larger eye spots on the back of the hind wing but I don't always get a good view), Eastern Comma, and Spring Azure (the beautiful tiny blue that doesn't show the color when in perches with its wings closed). Also saw my first dragonfly of the season over the pond (against the morning sun; couldn't ID it).

Other firsts of the year: several Least Terns over the creek and a Yellow-crowned Night Heron hanging around the pond. Also, a young (first-cycle?) Ring-billed Gull (not many Ring-bills around at this time of the year). A handsome male Rose-breasted Grosbeak was in the upland oaks, easily findable by its sharp chip note and an occasional few notes of pretty grosbeak melody.

Eric Salzman

Maple Swamp washout

Alas, this morning's Maple Swamp walk was a washout. Even so, a short stroll around the neighborhood (up and down Pleasure Drive and on a couple of wet paths around the old horse pasture) produced a few things of note singing in the rain: Rose-breasted Grosbeak (a beauty but scarce locally), Blue-winged Warbler (no Lawrence's Warbler), an Eastern Phoebe (nesting in the old horse barn), several Baltimore Orioles and, notably, a Warbling Vireo. This last is a bird that disappeared from Long Island in the last century but has recently staged a comeback (nice to have some good news for a change, no?).

Eric Salzman

May Day! May Day!

May is here and we have moved out to our place in East Quogue. We actually moved yesterday and were pleased to see that everything is okay. The house is in good shape and, while the woods still show some of the after effects of Irene and the winter storms of a year or two earlier, the vegetation and the birds are definitely showing all the signs of this year's rebirth; in fact, I don't remember spring being ever so advanced out here as early as the end of April. Many flowers are in bloom including Periwinkle (almost gone!), Lily of the Valley (coming in strong), High-bush Blueberry as well as the various oaks and hickories. I didn't see many obvious long-distance migrants but there were two Purple Martins over the creek, a Baltimore Oriole calling somewhere, a Red-tailed Hawk in the trees and then soaring over the creek trying to avoid the dive-bomb attacks of a pair of crows. A very cheery sound was the fresh and vibrant trill of a very active Pine Warbler with as bright a yellow breast as I have ever seen on this species. Pine Warbler, which have nested here for several years, are a typical Pine Barrens species (yes, our place is really an outlier of the Pine Barrens) as well as a classic early arrival and hence one of our most dependable signs of spring!

Heavy rain and a touch of post-moving exhaustion kept me inside this morning but an early afternoon walk produced two more warblers (Yellow-rumped and Yellow), a singing Warbling Vireo, another singing Baltimore Oriole, quite a few White-throated Sparrows and a dozen or more Purple Martins all gathered at the hanging gourds that constitute their nesting colony. They seemed to be conveying the strong view that "It's good to be back" and it's a message we heartily agree with!

Eric Salzman

New Year's Eve Special from Eric's Bird Blog

I went out yesterday morning to meet Eileen Schwinn and locate the Mountain Bluebird that has been hanging out on the edge of grassy fields on Route 25A just north of EPCAL (ex-Grumman). Mountain Bluebirds are a western species that breeds in open grasslands in the western mountains. They are migratory and, like many migratory birds, their navigational systems occasionally misfire. The bird was discovered by Dianne Teta at the beginning of the week when she was scouting her territory for the Central Suffolk Christmas Count. Eileen, who had already seen the bird on Wednesday, explained that it shows up at 10:30 am and works its way west by hopping up and down from the snow fencing bordering the field facing 25A just east of Hulse Landing Road. Oh sure, thought I; this is a well-trained bird. Nevertheless at 10:30 am I found myself facing the snow fencing at the eastern edge of the field when and whereupon a sleek grayish bluebird popped up on the fence post right in front of me! Not an Eastern Bluebird but a very distinctive female Mountain Bluebird with an eye ring, a tinge of rusty on its breast and a beautiful pale blue (almost turquoise) on the wings and tail -- best seen when the bird was flying up to perch on a fence post. As predicted, the bird would dive regularly into the grass in front of the snow fence to feed on insects and then fly back up to the fence post, moving west on each move. It was easy to follow along until the fence line ended at Hulse Landing Road upon which it flew up and away to another spot on the far side of a farm complex still further west.

There were other birds in these fields -- Horned Larks, Savannah Sparrows and a few Lapland Longspurs -- mostly hidden in the grass until they flushed (generally spooked by raptors flying over). A parade of raptors included Red-tailed Hawk, Northern Harrier. American Kestrel, and a couple of accipiters. Afterwards we found a juvenile Red-headed Woodpecker in the Baiting Hollow Boy Scout Camp along with a pair of Hairy Woodpeckers and many Flickers. From the Iron Pier in Northville, we saw both loons, White-winged Scoters, Long-tailed Ducks and a diving Gannet.

The Central Suffolk Christmas Census, curated by Eileen, was on Tuesday. We didn't get to see the Mountain Bluebird that day but it was seen by others within the count circle so it counted as a new bird for the Central Suffolk CBC. Another new bird for the count was a Black Vulture, seen by Eileen, myself and Jim Clinton, Jr., on a house chimney in the Eastport area. Black Vulture was a rarity on Long Island at any season in the past but the recent proliferation of Turkey Vultures has also been accompanied by the appearance of Blacks. If this species is now wintering on the island can breeding be far behind? Also seen was a distant Red-necked Grebe on Moriches Bay and some numbers of what used to be called "half-hardies": Catbirds, Towhees, and Brown Thrasher plus Brown Creeper, Hermit Thrush, a few Pine Siskins and some numbers of Fox Sparrows.

I did two Christmas Counts this year: Central Suffolk on December 27 and Brooklyn ten days earlier. The Brooklyn shore, from the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridge area to Red Hook and the Erie Basin had only a few ducks (Black, Mallard, Gadwall, Widgeon and Bufflehead) but a close-up of a feeding Red Phalarope was a new find for this venerable count which had an overall total of no less than 132 species on that day.

Eric Salzman

May-October, 2011

Although, I already signed off with my last regular post for the year, I thought a brief review of the season in East Quogue -- May 1 to November 1 -- might be in order.

There were two big bird news stories in the summer of 2011. One was the Raven nesting on the Hampton Bays water tower, the first ever recorded in Eastern Long Island. There were three young, one of which didn't make it (not sure of the fate of the other two). Traditionally, the Common Raven in Eastern North America has been regarded as a northern wilderness species but it has been expanding its range south along the coast and it has even nested in a Queens park. Even so, the Hampton Bays nesting can be considered a considerable range extension.

The other big story was Hurricane (or, if you prefer, Tropical Storm) Irene which brought an amazing bonanza of pelagic and tropical seabirds: Bridled Tern, White Ibis, several Brown Pelicans and Sandwich Terns (also non-tropical Caspian Terns). A "skua" was picked up in East Quogue and taken to the Hamptons Rescue Center in Hampton Bays where it turned out to be a Long-tailed Jaeger! And in the cage right next to it was a Cory's Shearwater, another hurricane casualty found in East Quogue! Both of these birds are 'pelagic' and can usually be found well out in the ocean. The Jaeger, which didn't make it, is one of the most sought-after pelagic birds and the rarest of three Jaegers. I believe the Shearwater recovered and was released. Other exotics were reported; a dead Tropicbird (I forget which species) turned up in East Marion and a Black-capped Petrel was seen in Mecox Bay (but not, alas, by me).

The Bridled Tern, a gorgeous tropical seabird, also usually found far out to sea, was on Weesuck Creek on Hurricane Sunday morning flying with Black Terns (and a Black Skimmer) so it gets added to the East Quogue list! Two other new birds turned up in 2011: a Common Merganser in the spring (sitting in the water at the mouth of the outflow from our pond) and a Red-shouldered Hawk which hung around in our woods for two or three days this fall. A few Common Mergansers can be found on East End ponds in the winter but this is not a bird that we normally see in breeding season. And the Red-shouldered Hawk is one of Long Island 'missing' species -- along with Barred Owl (which has a similar habitat) and Pileated Woodpecker -- i.e. species that are not uncommon on the adjacent mainland but are no-shows on LI. That made three new East Quogue species for a total of 239. However, for various reasons, I've taken Little Egret off the definite list and demoted it to 'hypothetical' making the total 238+1 (the Little Egret is an Old World species with two long nuptial plumes and I have seen such a bird twice on our place over the years; but apparently Snowy Egrets -- or perhaps hybrids between Little and Snowy -- can sport these double plumes).

The big disappointments in 2011 were the 'neo-tropical' migrants; both warblers and thrushes were notably scarce in both spring and fall. There is no doubt that the much-anticipated movements of these birds have fallen way off in the last few years. We can look for explanations in several directions but the simple truth is that the populations of these birds, nesting in the north and migrating to the tropics, are dramatically diminished.

The migrants that still turned up in some numbers are the vireos (Red-eyed, Warbling, White-eyed, Blue-headed and, notably, Yellow-throated) and flycatchers (Eastern Phoebe, Eastern Wood-pewee and the empids). Also Yellow-breasted Chat (not considered a warbler anymore), Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Scarlet Tanager, both orioles, the mimids (Catbird, Brown Thrasher), Rose-breasted Grosbeak, and a few other finch and sparrow types. In the last-named category' are the Eastern Towhee and a number of sparrows including Song, Swamp and White-throated which arrive in considerable numbers plus White-crowned, Chipping and Lincoln's, all seen in migration this fall on my morning walks around the place. It should be noted that most of these birds are local or near-by nesters and perhaps should not be considered long-distance migrants like many of the warblers and thrushes.

Eric Salzman

end of migration

Tuesday morning I did a 'final' walk around the place in time to see a medium-sized hawk flying with and even diving at a much large raptor. It took me a moment to figure out what was going on as the bigger bird was a powerful looking creature with broad wings and a long tail. Only when it tilted a bit soaring on the strong winds was I able to see the white rump. Northern Harrier in migration, flapping and soaring overhead, is quite a different bird from the marsh-hunting Harriers that we usually see with their up-titled V-shaped wings and slow coursing flight. The bird attacking it was an accipiter, almost certainly a Cooper's Hawk.

The N. Harrier was not the largest raptor of the day. While turning onto Eastport Manor Road a little later in the day, a huge raptor suddenly appeared right above the road, flying away from us with a series of shallow flaps followed by soaring on wide, flat wings. It was, without a doubt, an eagle, although on the basis of a rear silhouette alone, I couldn't be absolutely certain which one.

The midday winter feeding flock was active with its very handsome male Yellow-bellied Sapsucker -- red crest, red throat, yellow belly and all -- plus Golden-crowned Kinglets, White-breasted Nuthatch, Yellow-rumped Warblers, White-throated Sparrows, the other three woodpeckers and the usual Chickadees and Titmice. Flocks of American Robins are still on the move and there are many Swamp Sparrows in the marsh along with American Goldfinches and House Finches feeding on the Baccharis. But most of the passerine migration seems to be over. In fact, our personal migration is over and so this will be my last regular post for a while.

Eric Salzman

frost is on the pumpkin

Looks like there'll be frost on the pumpkin after all. Although Saturday night's nor'easter did not produce ice or snow hereabouts, Jack Frost made his appearance last night and there was an icy slick or edge or sheen on everything from the deck right through to the Baccharis and Iva bushes and Spartina marsh grass.

I didn't get into the marsh until a bit after sunrise and as soon as I got there, I flushed a Virginia Rail. It flew over to the open area where, as the tide was out, I was able to watch it run across the mud As soon as it vanished into the grass, it called -- something like the infamous 'kicker call' now attributed to the Virginia Rail -- and almost immediately another Virginia Rail came dashing across! And then a third!

It was, in fact, a rather birdy morning with, among other things, an American Woodcock springing up from hurricane debris area near the head of the marsh, half a dozen juvenile Cedar Waxwings sunning themselves in the big bare Tupelo in the same area, Hermit Thrushes in a wooded area on the other side of the property, and Royal Terns calling on the creek.

Eric Salzman

After the nor'easter

Last night's nor'easter did not bring us ice and snow but there was plenty of wind and rain. In its wake this morning, there was a dramatic sky with scudding (I think that's the approved adjective) clouds and a good-sized flight of Turdus migratorius, the American Robin. The wind continued all day with temperatures in the 40s (but feeling much colder) The only major feeding flock that I caught up with was led by a pack of Titmice but included Downy and Red-bellied Woodpeckers and a firecrest. Well, not really a Firecrest (that's a European kinglet) but a Golden-crowned male at eye level showing off his fiery orange/gold crest to excellent advantage.

Eric Salzman

king tides

It seems that we are undergoing a so-called 'king tide', an especially high tide due to the twice-a-year line-up of the earth, moon and sun. The entire marsh gets flooded with water covering most of the path around the edge and the pond brimming full to the top. The birds prefer the low tide in the pond when the mud and sand flats are exposed and bait fish are trapped in shallow pools. These days, if I go down to the pond at low tide, I will almost invariably find two or three of the following: Mallards, Great Egret, Great Blue Heron, Belted Kingfisher and, often, Greater Yellowlegs. Almost everything will flush except, oddly enough, the Great Egret and the Yellowlegs, both of which permit quite a close encounter. You'd think that the Mallards, which are introduced birds in these parts, would be as tame as the Mute Swans but they are not. As a side note, the Mallards are all paired up (they do not stay paired through breeding season so apparently the fall is their courtship time; gives 'em an early start in the spring).

Yesterday morning's calls from the marsh included one definite Clapper Rail and a descending call that might have been a Yellow Rail! Sora has a descending call but it sounds more like a whinny (somewhere between a horse and a Screech Owl). Virginia Rail is the famous 'kicker' (which baffled the birders and ornithologists for a long time) but it might have other calls. As I have noted before, rail calls are tough calls.

There was a bit of passerine movement including small overhead flights that I could not identify. What I was able to make out was a flock of close to two dozen Cedar Waxwings, all juveniles! Also a single lost Golden-crowned Kinglet (aren't they supposed to be in flocks?) and an Eastern Phoebe wagging its tail and hunting insects from one perch to the next.

Eric Salzman

accipiters gone, birds busy

Blue sky, breezy, cool. Feels like hawk weather but the accipiters seem to have disappeared and the other October birds are again busy. Flocks of Am Robins and Common Grackles have dropped in and Northern Flickers are noisily on the move. Yellow-rumped Warblers, now accompanied by Blackpoll Warblers, have reappeared. Other migrants noted were Hermit Thrush, Ruby-crowned Kinglet and Eastern Towhee. Squirrels are madly dashing everywhere. No acorns to speak of but the biggest crop of hickory nuts that I can recall.

Eric Salzman

where did they go?

What happened to all the Yellow-rumped Warblers that came in last week. There were at least two major influxes but most of the warblers have melted away, perhaps continuing to migrate further south or else simply dispersing in the neighborhood. Or perhaps they are just lying low. There was something like four accipters (two Cooper's and two Sharp-shinned) around this morning -- one of them appeared to be holding prey -- and both of these are bird hawks par excellence.

The other major arrival, White-throated Sparrow, is still here in some numbers and, based on past performance, will probably stay the winter. Because it hangs low and on the ground in dense vegetation, it is probably not as susceptible to getting caught by winged predators. In the current mild weather, these birds are quite vocal and it is easy to tell that they are around by their alarm calls (a loud 'chink') and various versions of their melodious songs. The only other singing birds right now are the permanant residents: Mockingbird, Carolina Wren and Song Sparrows. Most of the last-named appear to be young birds still struggling to learn their proper songs.

Royal Terns still frequent the creek along with Great Egrets and Great Blue Herons. No sign of the other egrets and herons.

At low tide, you can see where a spring comes out of the east bank of the pond creating a little freshet of flowing fresh water whose path is marked by light-colored sand on the pond bottom (the flowing water has cleared the mud around it). As I was looking at the spring, a Muskrat emerged from the spot which apparently connects with the muskrat burrows under the bank. Good to know that Irene did not drown all the Muskrats (wonder where they go during storm tides)!

Eric Salzman

on the rails

It gets easier and easier to get down to the water before dawn and, if the tide isn't too high, I put on my boots and venture out into the marsh. The Spartina alterniflora (the main marsh grass) is pretty high this year but there is a medium mud path that takes me out to the middle where there is a substantial piece of flotsam -- a solid wood board -- that offers me both a secure footing and enough height to peer into the open area. When the tide is completely out, this area is nothing but mud but at 7 am this morning it was covered with a few inches of water and nary a bird. I turned and retreated back out and immediately there was a distinct rail call coming from the spot. Although I was quite sure that the bird calling was a Clapper Rail, the sun was still behind a thick band of clouds on the eastern horizon -- a good moment for rails but not necessarily for much else. So I turned around and worked my way back to the board. The Clapper had indeed emerged in all its morning grayness (it comes out at this spot almost every morning) and there was plenty of light to watch it dipping around in the water and mud on one side of the marsh pond. Then it took off and flew to the other side, splashing down and even swimming a bit; then, at the near edge, it started to work its way along the side coming almost straight towards me.

Having a good close-up view of a Clapper Rail is a notable event in itself but suddenly I caught another movement on the opposite side of the marsh pond. Emerging from the reeds out into the open was a smaller rail with a black mask setting off a bright yellow conical bill, wavy stripes or bars underneath, streaked and spotted above, short tail slightly stuck up showing a white rear end: in short, a SORA RAIL in adult plumage. I've seen Sora here a couple of times before but always as a fast-moving air-borne silhouette. Altogether I've now seen four of the five North American rail species on the marsh; the missing species is Black Rail which breeds further west on Long Island but has very little population north of us.

Eric Salzman

The Big Year

We saw "The Big Year" last night and found it amusing. I had read the book by Mark Obmascik; it's based on the real story of three birders, two well-to-do types from the NYC area (Sandy Komito and Al Levantan) and a young guy from the mid-west (Greg Miller). Komito actually had already held the Big Year record of 721 (or 724, I'm not sure which is correct) species seen in a year but he was now out to top himself and create a new record. What he didn't know was that Levantan, a highly successful businessman with plenty of cash to spend, and Miller, a relatively poor young working stiff from Ohio were also out to break the record. Eventually, the competition between the three came out in the open and, in spite of herculean efforts by the others, Komito kept the title by logging 745 birds. I was not that impressed with Obmascik's book which was, it seemed to me, written by an outsider without much sympathy for his topic or his subjects. The movie Hollywoodizes the story quite a bit making everything seem quite gorgeous and glamorous (Hollywood has always had a soft spot for outsiders with stars in their eyes). Even the spartan life at Attu -- the westernmost of the Aleutian Island chain and a hotspot for Asian migrants and strays -- has a romantic glow about it (minus a rate or two). The depiction of a fall-out at High Island in Texas is a cinematographic, computer-assisted dream and not like anything you are ever likely to see in the real world. The three birders, only vaguely based on their real-life models, have invented names and characters: Komito becomes Kenny Bostwick played by Owen Wilson, Levantan becomes Stu Priessler played by Steven Martin and Greg Miller turns into Brad Harris played by Jack Black. There is considerable fictionalization, turning one of them into a competitive villain (a type that is, of course, completely unknown among birders) and creating a kind of substitute father-son relationship between the other two. The real-life Debi Shearwater (who runs the pelagic trips off Monterey) becomes Annie Auklet, played by Anjelica Houston. Because these characters are fleshed out with real motivations and personalities and woven into a story, however sentimentalized, the movie seems to me to be more successful than the book on which it is based. Gorgeous scenery flies by and the birds sometimes look pretty unreal but I can't imagine anyone seriously interested in birds and birding not having a good time. Even Birding Magazine, a publication for which I write and edit, makes a cameo appearance! Best of all, instead of the usual mocking attitude (the little-old-ladies-in-tennis-sneakers sort of thing), this movie shows birding as almost an extreme sport. And, not incidentally, it also shows bird songs and calls as an essential element of high-end birding, a notion dear to my heart!

By the way, it is likely to be a while before Komito's record will be duplicated or surpassed. Not only was 1998 an El Nino year but regular flights to Attu have ceased and it has become difficult to get to the island.

Speaking of birds and bird calls, I forgot to mention that the rails were active and noisy in the marsh yesterday morning. There were at least two Clapper Rails calling and one of them was doing his or her toilette right in the open in the center of the marsh. And a Virginia Rail was seen in silhouette against the rising sun as it picked up and scooted right across the top of the Spartina before dropping back down into the grass. Also, a very small bird dropped into the marsh right in front of me but all the pishing in the world could not lure it out for a better look. It seemed much too small to be one of the marsh sparrows and there is a good chance that it was a Sedge Wren (this is the perfect time of year for that bird to migrate) but, alas, I could not be sure.

Eric Salzman

arrival of the White-throats

The sun rose bright and clear before the clouds rolled in this morning. This was my first full morning walk since I got back from Hungary. The most striking change in the local bird life since I left was the arrival of considerable numbers of White-throated Sparrows. They were all over the place, calling and even singing, and rivaling the omnipresent Yellow-rumped Warblers in numbers. Curiously enough, I saw only one Swamp Sparrow (they had previously been common). The first Hermit Thrush of the season was calling in a pine tree; I couldn't see the color in its tail but said tail was being pumped up and down, a Hermit Thrush trait par excellence. Other birds seen included Northern Mockingbird and Brown Thrasher but not a single Catbird!

Eric Salzman

A Day's Birding in Hungary

The visit of the Center for Contemporary Opera (a New York organization with which I am affiliated) to the Armel Opera Festival in Szeged provided an opportunity to visit the southwest corner of Hungary and a chance to do some birding in the famous Hungarian steppe. Szeged is at the corner of three countries (Hungary, Romania and Serbia) and three very different language groups (Uralic/Ugaric, Latin and Slavic). Before World War I, all of these areas were part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and Szeged shows many traces of that great, long-gone imperium, not the least of which is the jewel-box opera house – an exquisite diamond horseshoe of the era with perfect acoustics and sightlines. It only holds 6-700 people, a perfect size for a quite intimate musical, operatic and dramatic experience. There were five companies from five different countries represented at the festival: from Hungary, Poland, Switzerland, the Czech Republic and the U.S. All the proceedings were broadcast on Arte, an international European arts channel and all the companies, except the one from the U.S. (us) had the support of their respective embassies. Only the U.S. does not support its own art and culture in any meaningful way.

But I did not set out to write a poltico/cultural diatribe. Suffice it to say that I had a fine day birding in the countryside with an excellent local birder by the name of Tamás Nagy. Much of Hungary is steppe country. The steppes of Eastern Europe constitute a flat open habitat that fills up with water in the spring, creating huge and dense marshes that often dry out in the summer, leaving a residue of minerals and salts (and sometimes actual salt lakes), all of which gives character to this neighborhood. Much of the steppe country (‘puszta’ in Hungarian) is not good for agriculture but, in the Szeged area at least, it has been possible to create fish ponds out of the old marshes and wetlands. Although some portions of the steppes are exploited for human use, there is a great swath that has been put aside and protected. There are some characteristic steppe birds of which the most famous are the Great Bustard and the Red-footed Falcon but, alas, the former does not occur in the area of Szeged and the latter, which nests here in numbers, had already migrated.

In spite of those disappointments, we did spend a long day visiting semi-woodland areas, fish ponds, marshes and wetlands, dry plains and salt lakes. The outstanding events of the day took place at the first stop in the morning and the last stop in the evening. The former was the sighting of a huge Saker Falcon perched on a transmission tower, seen from a rest stop on the highway just outside of Szeged.

The second was a visit at the end of the day to a salt lake in the middle one of the major pusztas which, unlike some of the others, had not dried up. The fields and wetlands here attract large numbers of migrating and wintering shore birds, waders (in our sense: that is herons, cormorants, avocets and the like) and waterfowl. Although many of the summer, breeding birds were gone, migrants and winter birds were filing in in considerable numbers. Many ducks and two species of geese – Greylag and White-fronted – were moving in for the night. But the climax of the evening’s events came in fading light of a spectacular blood-red sunset which was punctuated by wave after wave of Common Cranes moving in from the surrounding fields to the lake edge and even into the water itself. The trilling waves of sound produced by these magnificent birds could be heard in the distance even before the flocks could be seen. As they landed on the water’s edge, many of them launched into classic crane dances: nodding, bobbing, weaving, jumping up and down and waving their wings in a series of choregraphic duets. This is the opposite end of the year from breeding season but the cranes apparently continue their dancing displays throughout the year.

Below is an annotated list of the birds of the day, using mostly Svensson, Mullarney and Zetterstrom’s Birds of Europe.

Mute Swan (Cygnus olor)

(Greater) White-fronted Goose (Anser albifrons)

Greylag Goose (Anser anser)

Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos)

Northern Shoveler (Anas clypeata)

(Eurasian) Teal (Anas crecca)

(Common) Pochard (Aythya ferina)

Ferruginous Duck (Aythya nyroca)

Common Goldeneye (Bucephala clangula)

(Common) Pheasant (Phasianus colchicus)

Little Grebe (Tachybaptus ruficollis)

Great Crested Grebe (Podiceps cristatus)

(Great) Cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo)

Pygmy Cormorant (Phalacrocorax pygmeus) – one of two new birds seen; this is a pint-sized Eastern cormorant with a small bill, long tail and a shiny all-black plumage (duller in the young birds)

(Black-crowned) Night Heron (Nycticorax nycticorax)

Great Egret (Casmerodius [Ardea] albus [alba])

Grey Heron (Ardea cinerea)

[White Stork nests widely seen but the birds had already left.]

White-tailed Eagle (Haliaeetus albicilla) – common in all wetlands areas; a close relative of our Bald Eagle

(Western) Marsh Harrier (Circus aeroginosus)

Hen Harrier (Circus cyaneus) – same species as our Northern Harrier

Common Buzzard (Buteo buteo)

(Eurasian) Sparrowhawk (Accipiter nisus)

Common Kestrel (Falco tinnunculus)

Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus)

Saker Falcon (Falco cherrug) – a huge Asian falcon (bigger than a Peregrine) with a Western outpost in the Hungarian steppe; the other life bird of the day

Water Rail (Rallus aquaticus) – heard only

(Common) Moorhen (Gallinula chloropus)

(Eurasian) Coot (Fulica atra)

Common Crane (Grus grus) – many hundreds of birds still present on the steppe

(Pied) Avocet (Recurvirostra avocetta)

Grey (Black-bellied) Plover (Pluvialis squatarola)

Northern Lapwing (Vanellus vanellus)

Dunlin (Calidris alpina)

Little Stint (Calidris minuta)

Spotted Redshank (Tringa erythropus)

(Common) Greenshank (Tringa nebularia)

Black-tailed Godwit (Limosa limosa)

(Eurasian) Curlew (Numenius arquata)

Common Snipe (Gallinago gallinago)

Ruff (Philomachus pugnax)

Black-headed Gull (Chroicocephalus ridibundus)

Caspian Gull (Larus cachinnans) – This is a split from the Yellow-legged Gull which is itself a split from the Herring Gull

Rock Dove (Columba livia)

Stock Dove (Columba oenas)

Collared Dove (Streptopelia orientalis)

Little Owl (Athene noctua) – sitting on the roof of an old barn almost literally in Tamás’ back yard!

Common Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis)

Great Spotted Woodpecker (Dendrocopos major)

Lesser Spotted Woodpecker (Dendrocopos minor)

Crested Lark (Galerida cristata)

Meadow Pipit (Anthus pratensis)

White Wagtail (Motacilla alba)

(European) Robin (Erithacus rubecula) – This bird (the original ‘Robin’) and the following are not considered thrushes anymore but have been transferred to the Eurasian flycatchers!

Stonechat (Saxicola torquata)

(Common) Blackbird (Turdus merula)

(Common) Chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita) – only warbler seen; all the others had already left

Eurasian Wren (Troglodytes troglodytes) – Until recently, this was considered the same species as our Winter Wren but they have now been split (along with the Pacific Wren in the Pacific northeast).

Great Tit (Parus major)

(European) Blue Tit (Cyanistes caeruleus)

Long-tailed Tit (Aegithalos caudatus)

Bearded Reedling (Panurus biarmicus) – beautiful views of a while family working their way through the reeds by one of the major fish ponds

Penduline Tit (Remiz pendulinus) – heard only; refused to show itself

Great Grey Shrike (Lanius excubitor)

Jackdaw (Corvus monedula)

Rook (Corvus frugilegus)

Hooded Crow (Corvus cornix)

Common Starling (Sturnus vulgaris)

House Sparrow (Passer domesticus)

Tree Sparrow (Passer montanus)

Chaffinch (Passer coelebs)

(European) Goldfinch (Carduelis carduelis)

(European) Greenfinch (Chloris chloris)

Reed Bunting (Emberiza schoeniclus)


Eric Salzman