Kingbirds in a Pitch Pine

The Kingbirds are definitely focused on a branch of a tall old Pitch Pine. The tree is on a low bluff overlooking the creek just past the mouth of the pond and the branch in question is high and extends out over the water. It is the perfect, classic, quintessential E. Kingbird nest site. Because the two birds are moving freely in and out, I can say that they are either building a nest or feeding young in an existing nest. The site is a stout limb covered with needles thick enough to disguise any construction that might be there. But I'm pretty sure that the nest is under construction because (1) I didn't notice any activity here before the last few days and also (2) because of the way the birds work together -- one perched high and on guard, the other flying into the tree to work on the nest. They call to each other and indulge in some fancy fluttery flights that suggest courtship more than the simple job of making short feeding sallies from one place to another. I don't believe it is necessarily too late for a flycatcher nesting and I'm quite sure I have seen Kingbirds feeding young in Julys past; midsummer has to be the maximum time for a large aerial insectivorous bird to feed a family.

The big flycatchers have it these days: Eastern Wood-pewee and Great Crested Flycatcher have both been active in the woods.

Curiously enough, the Flickers are active in the same front row of trees as the Kingbirds but I hear them over a much wider area extending from Weesuck Avenue all the way across the woods and marsh edge almost to Bay Avenue. These are almost certainly birds that have already nested successfully and may constitute a large family with the young birds learning how to fend for themselves. I've been estimating four birds but there are probably more; Northern Flickers can have as many as nine eggs in a clutch. I think they like the areas that were thinned out by Hurricane Irene probably because there are good infestations of ants and bugs that these birds like to eat (Flickers are basically ground woodpeckers when it comes to feeding although these birds are also working some of the decaying downed wood). They appear to be staying in touch with one another with their loud songs and calls.

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

the photogenic mammal previously alluded to

This is the River Otter from Mike Bottini's trip camera at the Mashomack Preserve in Shelter Island (see previous post).

Eric Salzman

winter flocks

With the temperature dropping into the '30s, there was a noticeable increase in what I would describe as winter foraging flocks with a diverse and changing line-up of species. Although the dominant birds in these loose flocks continued to be the familiar ones -- Common Grackles, Am Robins, Chickadees and Titmice -- there were others, more generic to the season: White-throated Sparrows, White-breasted Nuthatch, Yellow-rumped Warblers, Golden-crowned Kinglet and some half a dozen Dark-eyed Juncos -- the first of the season that I have seen. In and among these birds were a couple of Starlings, House Finches and American Goldfinches . There were four species of woodpeckers active including two or three Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers -- a handsome male and one or two juveniles. The objects of desire for most of these birds were the white Red Cedar berries and the red Euonymus berries but the Juncos were also feeding in the open grassy areas next to the house -- on what I have no idea.

A single lost juvenile Cedar Waxwing was seen high in the Tupelo at the head of the marsh where there had been a flock of two dozen a couple of days ago. The marsh itself was singularly unproductive. No rail calls and the only bird seen, working its way around the mud in the middle, was a solitary Song Sparrow! I did hear the unmistakeable call of a Royal Tern coming from the creek so these southern visitors have not deserted us yet.

Eric Salzman

The Three Ravens

I went back to see Corvus corax hamptonensis, the Common Ravens of Hampton Bays, this morning. They are hanging around the water tower in Hampton Bays where they nested and I saw three of the four of them -- two young and one of the adults -- sitting on the lawn. The water company plot consists of the tower, various buildings and out-structures, a large lawn with a few trees, a lot of open space and a water pipe or faucet which is dripping water on a non-stop basis (and attracts birds including the ravens to splash and drink). Next door is the Hampton Bays Volunteer Ambulance building surrounded by a parking lot and another wide open lawn; this seems to be on land donated by the Suffolk County Water Authority. Both buildings are surrounded by a small but fairly dense pine-and-oak woodland -- virtually a slice of the Pine Barrens right in the middle of Hampton Bays (probably also owned by the Water Authority). The area is birdy; birds like woodland backlots with interspersed open spaces. The first day I went to find the ravens, there were at least two dozen crows in and around the pine trees on the Water Authority property. They were not Common Crows but Fish Crows with their characteric nasal 'caw'. I don't think I have ever seen more than two or three Fish Crows together in one place but these birds were all over the place and not another corvid in sight. Eventually we did get a distant view of a Raven but I went back the next morning to get some better views. I also heard an unusual bird call or song by the Ambulance building that I didn't recognize. I couldn't spot the bird that was doing the vocalizing and I was anxious to find the Ravens (I found the two young ones on the tower) so I gave up the search. But this morning I spent a lot of time by the Ambulance building explaining to the volunteer ambulance people (yes, they were on duty early in the morning) what I was doing and listening for the mysterious song. No luck with the song but I did see a lot of birds including Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Eastern Phoebe, Indigo Bunting and a young or female Baltimore Oriole. Plus a lot of Fish Crows and three Ravens sitting out on the grass.

Hmmm. Three Ravens. Isn't that an old song?

Eric Salzman

Catching up: Wednesday, Thursday & Friday

Wednesday, May 4. Heavy overcast but dry. A strange little waterfowl swimming in the pond turned to be a Greater Yellowlegs paddling around like a mini-duck. The Purple Martins, mostly hanging around the martin houses, and the Willets, mostly on the far side of the creek (but occasionally over on this side), are both settling their domestic business with a maximum of noise -- the Martins with continual chippering rounds of their video-game calls and the willets with the endless repetitions and variations on their name. The first Common Yellowthroat of the season, calling and chipping, turned up in the shrubbery at the far end of the old right-of-way but the calling warblers high in the tree tops all turned out to be Yellow-rumps. Great Crested Flycatcher marked his movements with loud, croaking, laughing calls but an Eastern Phoebe barely emitted only an unfamiliar little buzz; I might not have recognized it a Phoebe at all if it weren't for its persistent tail-wagging. Not all the newly arrived birds were welcome; add two squeaky male Brown-headed Cowbirds to the list. The plethora of singing House Wrens all over the territory all week may in fact only be a single bird which tirelessly tries out its bubbling song from every conceivable corner. Accounting for the calling Baltimare Orioles does, however, require the presence of more than one male; in fact, there have been three or four different birds working the burgeoning oaks. Hope the cowbirds don't dupe any of these with their nefarious egg-laying

Thursday, May 5. A trial run to Maple Swamp (in preparation for Sunday's walk). Strong winds from the north appear to have held down potential migration but many -- not all! -- of the local breeding birds were in. The only long-distance migrant was a Palm Warbler although a small, skulking, greenish bird that got away into the dense shrubbery at the edge of Maple Swamp Pond might have been something good (probably a female Tennessee Warbler foraging low down instead of high up because that's where the food was this morning).

Friday, May 6. Beautiful, blue-sky morning after a cool overnight (frost on the edge of the marsh). Two Lesser Yellowlegs flying in formation made a couple of passes across the mouth of the pond; other yellowlegs -- presumably Greater -- were flying in the distance. As the day warmed up, a screeping, laughing Great Crested Flycatcher turned up and a trilling Pine Warbler as well, the latter for the first time this season (the only other warbler seen was a Yellow-rump). But the bird of the morning was a COMMON MERGANSER in the water at the mouth of the pond and the first of its species that I have seen here. It was initially seen in silhouette against the rising sun but eventually it swam out into the creek and moved far enough over into good light to show most of its markings. This was a big duck with a smooth, rounded head, riding high on the water and showing generous areas of white side and breast with only a thin dark line extending from the dark back into the white; it had an all-dark head, a sharp division between the dark head and the white lower neck and breast, and a merganser bill that was thick at the base. All these features were distinct from those of the Red-breasted Merganser which is the merganser that one expects to see on the creek in winter and migration. Our total is now 236 species.

As a reminder, Sunday's ELIAS walk in Maple Swamp begins at 8 am from the pull-out on the eastern side of Pleasure Drive in Flanders (about 1/2 to 3/4 of a mile south of Rt. 24). I will actually be there at 7:30 (a time that was also announced) and we will spend the first 1/2 hour birding the area between the old horse pasture and the road. At a few minutes after 8, we'll depart for the pasture and the woods beyond. Ticks were almost absent on Thursday walk but I would still come prepared to deal with the buggers.

Saturday's SOFO walk in the East Hampton Grace Estate begins at 8 am from the pull-out on Northwest Road just short of where it meets Alewife Brook Road in the Northwest section of East Hampton. From the west the directions are as follows: take Swamp Road east/northeast from Rt. 114 just southeast of Sag Harbor. Turn right on Northwest Landing Road, right again on Old Northwest Road and almost immediately left on Northwest Road which you follow almost to the junction of Alewife Brook Road; you will see a pull-out area on the right opposite one of the main entrances to the Grace Estate. The focus of this walk will be "Birding by Ear"; we expect to catch most of the local breeders and perhaps some migrants.

Eric Salzman

P.O. Box 775 (14 Randall Lane)
East Quogue NY 11942
631 653-5236
es@ericsalzman.com
www.ericsalzman.com

Pike's Beach

This morning's ELIAS (Eastern LI Audubon Society) walk was at Pike's Beach -- the bayside beach and peninsula that was formed by The Perfect Storm and other hurricanes and which became accessible with the establishment of the village of Westhampton Dunes and the filling of the inlets by the US Corps of Engineers. This area, in eastern shadow of Moriches Inlet and Cupsogue Beach, has been fairly consistently the best accessible area for shorebirds, both common and rare, on Eastern LI (whether considered by itself or together with Cupsogue County Park a short distance away).

The outstanding sighting this morning was undoubtedly the two Roseate Terns seen flying overhead. A few pairs of Roseates are still apparently breeding on Moriches and Shinnecock Bays but their numbers are certainly low. Additionally a single Royal Tern was seen this morning perched on one of the many sad flats eexposed at low tide (the second of the year for me and the forerunner of more to come).

Two notable species that were seen in fair numbers were Glossy Ibis (many, flying overhead) and Black Skimmer (a fair number of sightings of individuals working the bayshore in classic skimmer style). Piping Plovers were in some numbers, many of them young of the year, confirming this area's prominence as the Piping Plover capital of the East End. In the migrant category, there were a few Semipalmated and Black-bellied Plovers, fair numbers of Short-billed Dowitchers and Red Knots, many dozens of Least Sandpipers and hundreds of Semipalmated. Additionally there were a few Ruddy Turnstones and a yellowlegs, probably Greater. Many Snowy Egrets (outnumbering the Great Egrets). Also the other local breeders: Mute Swans, Canada Geese, Willets, Am Oystercatchers, Common and Least Terns, Laughing Gull and the usual Double-crested Cormorants, Black-backed and Herring Gulls.

On the ocean early in the morning, there were a couple of sub-adult Gannets and a large shearwater too far away to ID as to species. The Hudsonian Godwit was reported again at Cupsogue.

Eric Salzman

a remarkable sighting

My regular morning round takes me onto the dock that juts out into Weesuck Creek just beyond the outflow from our marsh and pond. From here, there is a clear view of the creek's west shoreline up to Aldrich Boatyard. As I was scanning the area, my eye caught a Snowy Egret in the mud (it was dead low tide) just below the bulkhead at the end of Weeksuck Avenue working its way on the flat toward the boatyard. The bird had two (maybe three) long streaming plumes coming down from the back of its head to its back. That got my attention. Snowy Egrets do not have long white plumes.

I quickly started to head over there for a closer look but, almost immediately, the bird took off. I watched it fly out and the, swinging past the dock, down the creek. It was a good-sized bird (bigger than the average Snowy) with a good-sized thick black bill that had a lot of yellow at its base continuing yellow onto the lores. In flight, in bright sunshire, I could see its jet black legs, brightly contrasting yellow feet and, yes, streaming white plumes. To repeat, Snowy Egrets do not have long white plumes. LITTLE EGRETS have long white plumes. As I watched, it flew out to the mouth of the creek and around the end of Pine Neck.

This is the second time I have seen a LITTLE EGRET (Egretta garzetta) here. The first time was on April 25, 1999 when a bird appeared briefly on our marsh (another one was seen on the same day in Delaware). Little Egret is widespread in Europe, Africa and Asia and I have seen it in often in Europe (and also Africa). This bird is NOT on the official New York list. The bird I saw in 1999 was not photographed and I was the only one to see it and that's not considered good enough to add a new bird to the state list.

Doubters of the 1999 bird insisted that Snowy Egrets can sometimes have the long plumes. Well, maybe. Such birds are probably Little/Snowy hybrids anyway. Also, as the doubters did not point out, Reef Heron is also a possibility; the three form a superspecies. Of course, these possibilities cannot be entirely ruled out. It is highly likely that many (accepted) rare bird sightings involve hybrids as the introgression of hybrid genes does not always produce visible evidence. If you could get a feather you could, I suppose, do DNA analysis. How much introgression do you need before the bird stops being a species and starts being a hybrid?

In any case, the likelihood that the bird is a Little Egret is probably at least as good as its being a hybrid, let alone a Reef Heron! All the East Coast states have accepted records of Little Egret which has colonized Barbados and occurs regularly from South America to Canada (whether hybrids or pure Egretta garzetta is not known in most cases)! Why not New York State?

At any rate, I have a bird on my local list which is not on the New York State list -- and now twice!

Eric Salzman

notes

A few notes and observations:

The Box Turtle that likes to sit in the pond was there again this morning (I think it's always the same individual). He/she/it goes onto the mud at low tide and waits for the tide to come up. As the water comes in, the turtle is covered and then actually floats with feet and neck outstretched so that only the nostrils and the top of its upper carapace are above water. An odd sight!

Among the birds that have started singing or calling in the past few days are the Catbirds which, as if in some sort of secret agreement, all started to vocalize at once yesterday or the day before after a week or two of silence. One (but not both) of the Common Yellowthroats has started singing again a little back from the marsh edge (it might be a different bird on a slightly different territory from the previous incumbents). Pine Warbler has picked up its steady, strong trilling, also in the past few days. Another bird that has stopped and started again (or disappeared and then reappeared) is the Great Crested Flycatcher. And, finally, to add to the list, Blue Jays have started calling again; Blue Jays don't really sing but, as everyone knows, they are very vocal, at least out of nesting season. In most cases, the non-singing period occurs when birds have young in the nest and don't want to call attention to themselves or the nest (in many cases, the males help feed the young). Blue Jays, for example, will slip in and out of the nest or the nest area in total silence!

Among the new floral arrivals: Morning Glories and Black-eyed Susans, a 'near-native' which has become naturalized here.

In the insect world, Seaside Dragonlets (love that name) have appeared on the salt marshes and ladybugs -- of several possible species -- are all over the marsh elder. This latter plant -- Iva fructescens, the dominant shrub at the edge of the marsh -- is infested with crowds of small, dark insects (aphids or some kind of mites). The ladybugs are feeding on the mites and providing some striking notes of color dotted all through the marsh edge. They are mainly orange and red although there are, if I am not mistaken, some (or some other similar insect feeding on the mites) which are plain dark brown.

Eric Salzman

young crows

Young crows are all over the place. Their constant honking calls are the background music for the day's activities along with the adults' screaming protests when they think that danger is near (for example, when an obvious Crow Murderer like myself tries to walk through the woods). The calls of the young crows are said to resemble those of the Fish Crows but I generally find them easy to tell apart. The Fish Crows, which I usually hear flying overhead, have a distinctive nasal note, usually doubled in a very recognizable rhythm (oddly enough, in these parts, Fish Crows nest upland, away from the ocean and South Shore bays to which they occasionally commute).

As to young Common Crows, there were no less than six of them in front of the house yesterday afternoon, sun-bathing, picking at insects in the grass and leaf litter, squabbling among themselves, and perhaps waiting for mom and dad to come by with something to eat. You could tell they were young birds by their behavior but also by some subtle features of their appearance, notably the dull color of the head feathers and the marked 'gape' at the base of the bill. Crows lay three to six eggs so it is conceivable that these were siblings from a single nest. Or do young crows from different families gather together in social groups? Could be. Crows are social animals and it would be logical for them to start to get socialized at an early age.

Dianne Taggart points out that my column on vireos seemed to imply that vireos don't nest on Long Island. But they are, of course, common breeders in oak and mixed woods where their songs can be heard well into the summer and into the heat of day when other birds are silent. When I wrote that I have never found them breeding 'down here', I only meant to refer to our place in East Quogue. We seem to have the right habitat so I keep hoping they will breed in our yard. Perhaps one day they will.

Eric Salzman

willets, songbird song and a butterfly correcdtion

I have yet to figure out what's going on in the Wonderful World of Willets. This morning a pair of Willets came barreling across the marsh flying in what looked like formation. As they swooped across the spartina a third Willet popped up from the grass and moved in behind them. Was he following them or chasing them? The two formation flyers continued over the pond and then detoured over the creek and across while the following flyer landed in the scraggly cedar on the pond edge.

Most of the resident birds have stopped singing or cut back noticeably. The Common Yellowthroats, the most persistent singers of all, have virtually shut down. Ditto the Baltimore Oriole. Even the N Cardinal is mostly silent. On the other hand, the Carolina Wren, after a few days of relative quiet, has started in again. Loud singers at this stage of the season may be unmated wandering males, looking for love. I even heard what I believe was a young wren practicing an amazing collection of songs -- soft, rhythmic, melodic, insistent, some sounding like the traditional Carolina Wren, some so completely different that I wasn't sure who was singing. Normally the Caroline Wren sings a very sterotypced song and switches songs only once in while. This bird was composing a whole medley of song, only occasionally recognizable as Caroline Wren and wandering off into strange musical territory. I've heard the Carolina Wren called the 'mocking wren' and perhaps this kind of practice song (?) explains why.

Yesterday, I wrote about a butterfly that I called the Pipevine Swallowtail. This was a very strange lapse. As Jim Ash points out, it must have been a Spicebush Swallowtail. This is the local woodland butterfly that feeds on sassafras and it is, I protest, what I really meant to write.

Eric Salzman

helping out with a breeding bird census

I went with Eileen Schwinn yesterday to help with the ELIAS Breeding Bird Count. Our territory was in the pine barrens on both sides of Route 51 (the Moriches/Riverhead Road) including the Bald Hill Trail and Hunters Garden. The common birds of the pine barrens -- Ovenbird, Pine Warbler, Black-capped Chickadee, Chipping Sparrow, Eastern Towhee -- were active and vocal. Both the Bald Hill Trail and Hunters Garden go into richer areas with water at or near the surface and a typically dense vegetation of pine barrens wetland plants. Among the birds found here -- all almost certainly nesting -- were Veery (with its haunting song), Hairy Woodpecker (a noisy pair), Red-eyed Vireo, Tufted Titmouse, Eastern Wood-pewee, American Robin, Baltimore Oriole, Gray Catbird, Common Yellowthroat. A couple of serious misses: Scarlet Tanager and Wood Thrush (the latter quite scarce his year).

Also seen were the Pipevine Swallowtail (a woodland butterfly that uses the locally common sassafras tree as the food source for its caterpillars) and the Common Whitetail, a striking 'skimmer' with a chalk-white body that positively gleams in the dark forest understory. These dragonflies patrol territory over the mud puddles in the woods and show off their striking biplane-style wings (transparent with a dark band across the middle)

Best of all was a singing Hermit Thrush in the woods on the other side of Route 51. This is not an uncommon bird in migration and winter but it is not so easy to find and hear in singing season. The ethereal music of this bird has been celebrated by various writers, most notably that great Long Island poet, Walt Whitman. The poet described it and its habitat beautifully and accurately in "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd" where it sings the elegy for the martyred President Lincoln. It is perhaps the most inspiring bird song on Long Island or even in North America and it is most impressive in its natural woodland setting. We only heard it for a few moments but long enough to reassure ourselves that this magical bird was still with us.

Eric Salzman

Hairy Woodpeckers and a guidedog

A noisy non-stop series of calls at the Maple Swamp Pond this morning proved to be coming from a woodpecker hole high on a dead stump a short distance from the water. Its source was shortly revealed when a large black-and-white woodpecker with a reddish crown stuck his head out the hole. It was a juvenile Hairy Woodpecker only days away from fledging. The adults eventually turned up with food and, although I could not see more than one youngster pushing his way out of the nest, there may have been others back in the nest hole. Apparently, these birds are well enough protected from predators by the security of the nest hole and also by their strong beaks, that they can afford to call attention to themselves in this way (something smaller and weaker birds would not dare try). The third week in May seems early but, as they are probably year-round residents and have nested in the area before, they are obviously able to get off to an early start.

There were a few warblers in the forest including singing Canada, Parula, Blackpoll, Pine, Black-throated Green and Black-throated Blue. If you add the breeding birds -- Blue-winged Warbler, Ovenbird, Black-and-white Warbler, Common Yellowthroat and Yellow Warbler (all of these except the Black-throat Blue were on the property as well), you get a total of 11 warblers. Wilson's and Blackburnian were -- by song -- probably also present. Red-eyed Vireo, Eastern Wood-pewee, Great Crested Flycatcher, Eastern Kingbird and Scarlet Tanager were in full throttle. No glimpse or peep from a thrush. This is really worrisome as both Wood Thrush, Veery and (occasionally) Hermit Thrush should be active.

A local dog -- he had a collar so he wasn't a stray -- accompanied me the whole way round. He obviously knew the territory and even tried to lead the way down various side paths and deer trails which he thought might be of interest (and, in some cases, they were). He went splashing in all the puddles and kettlehole ponds and constantly ran ahead, circling back every once in a while to see if 'ol slowpoke was still stumbling along. On several occasions, he went ahead on the wrong path and when he came back, I was gone -- turned down another trail.  But he was always able to track me and catch up, probably by using his nose. Only near the end of the trail did he depart, without so much as a goodby, presumably to find his way back home. 

Eric Salzman

a windy Maple Swamp

If a tree falls in the forest does it make a noise if no one is there to hear it? Well, of course, someone is there to hear it: a deer, a fox, a squirrel, a forest bird, maybe even a flock of forest birders. 

We were a group of 15 who had signed up for the Maple Swamp walk yesterday. We had just turned down a side trail to look for the Hooded Warbler that was singing at the spot a couple of days ago when a sudden cracking noise behind caused up all to turn around. A major tree branch -- from a living tree -- came crashing down to earth before our very wide eyes. We had walked past the spot just a moment or two before!

A crashing tree branch was the scariest but not the only major obstacle encountered on yesterday's walk. The cool weather and high, gusty winds made birding difficult. Even when birds came out to sing or feed, it was not easy to get a fix on them before they dashed off as if caught by a gust. Or else they wouldn't come out at all. One of the best birds of the trip, a singing White-eyed Vireo, was barely glimpsed by a few of the group. A single Scarlet Tanager perched high on a dead tree trunk for a moment before whirling away. Some expected birds -- including thrushes, vireos and flycatchers -- were missed entirely. Nevertheless, it was a walk with its exciting moments. A pair of Brown Creepers were seen seemingly on a merry chase from tree trunk to dead tree trunk, possibly a courting pair getting ready to nest (Brown Creepers nest behind pieces of semi-detached bark on dead tree trunks of which there are plenty these days in Maple Swamp). Turkey Vultures were soaring on the breezes overhead (a relatively new sight for the area) along with a big buteo, probably a young non-red-tailed Red-tailed Hawk. Other species of interest were Hairy Woodpecker, Great Crested Flycatcher, Blue-gray Gnatcatcher and few warblers. But the best sighting came on the way back and was seen by a single person. Cheryl van Tuyle spotted and flushed a gallinaceous bird off one side of the trail. Her description of the bird on the ground and as it flew away -- gray, smaller than a turkey with a collar marking and obvious banded tail -- was completely convincing as a RUFFED GROUSE! This magnificent bird has long been a resident of Maple Swamp but has been little seen in recent years.

Eric Salzman

Spent the morning in Hunters Gardens and Bald Hill Trail with Eileen Schwinn and Carl Safina. Carl, who knows the area well and showed us a couple of hidden kettlehole ponds a little ways back in the woods. It is the presence of all the ponds and wet spots that makes Hunters Gardens and a parallel area along the Bald Hill Trail richer than much of the rest of the pine barrens (and a good spot for migrants as well as local breeders). Red-eyed Vireos were singing loudly at the open area of Hunters Gardens, a bird of the season for me. Parula Warbler was the only migrant noticed; other warblers -- Ovenbird, Common Yellowthroat, Pine -- were local breeders. A furious tangle of Ovenbirds and a similar bouhaha of Eastern Towhees seemed to involve (in both cases) both males and females but the exact cause of the squabbles (fighting over a female? territory? mate-guarding?)  eluded us. Also active, occasionally singing and easy to see: male Scarlet Tanagers. A Rose-breasted Grosbeak chink was heard but the bird was not spotted. Ruby-throated Hummingbird could be a migrant passing through but is likely to be a local breeder. Ominously, a number of Brown Cowbirds were seen and heard. 

I got several responses to yesterday's report of a mystery songster. This was a bird singing from a hiding place in a tangle of vines high in a tree above a dense and impenetrable undergrowth. The song consisted of catbird-like phrases neatly and cleanly separated in short, slightly irregular bundles or bursts of song and separated by bits of chatter.  At least two correspondents suggested Yellow-breasted Chat. I didn't say it but that was my thought exactly. The understory looks like perfect chat habitat and I have seen chats in this general area on a number of occasions. One of my favorite stories concerns a Hav-a-Heart trap that someone left on a nearby trail at the edge of the woods which, when I discovered it, contained nothing less than a lively Yellow-breasted Chat trying to find his way out. Needless to say, I set it loose.

If anyone is interested in the Maple Swamp walk on Sunday and needs more detailed directions, please let me know.

Eric Salzman

May Day! May Day!

We moved out to East Quogue this afternoon -- a summer day in New York and a mild spring day on Eastern LI. We were greeted by the most advanced foliage that I've ever seen out here at the beginning of May. We were also greeted by calling Willets, two or three Greater Yellowlegs and an Osprey holding a fish and doing its soaring sky cry (to impress a female Osprey no doubt). There were Purple Martins high in the sky. apparently from our local nesting colony at the foot of Bay Avenue. A Green Heron flew up from the marsh and into the woods where it perched warily; it must also be a recent arrival and it will nest somewhere around here. There were two Great Egrets on the pond, possibly from one of our local colonies on the bay or perhaps just passing through. White-throated Sparrows were singing continuously and enthusiastically but they'll shortly be on their way to their northern breeding grounds. Singing Baltimore Oriole -- another recent returnee from the south. Most of the homeys were present and accounted for: all three nesting woodpeckers (Downy, Flicker, Red-bellied), Black-capped Chickadee and Tufted Titmouse, Am Crow, Carolina Wren, Am Robin, N. Mockingbird, N Cardinal, Am Goldfinch, Red-winged Blackbird, Common Grackle. Homeys because these are all birds that hang around through the winter or, at most, move very short distances away. They're back on territory early -- way ahead of us -- and are already well into their spring breeding activities.

Good to be back.

Eric Salzman

last day

Robins were still moving overhead by the dozen -- maybe hundreds in all -- early this morning as we said a temporary goodbye to East Quogue. It was another cloudy and slightly damp morning here in early November. Except for the American Robins and some of the waterfowl yet to come, migration has pretty much ground to a halt. The Osprey have almost all gone through and Gray Catbirds, all over the place in October, have disappeared. The common on-site birds are almost all either year-rounders (Red-winged Blackbird, Common Grackle, N. Cardinal, Am Goldfinch, House Finch, Song Sparrow, Carolina Wren, American Robin, B-c Chickadee, Tufted Titmouse, Am Crow, Blue Jay, Downy Woodpecker, Belted Kingfisher) or winter visitors (Great Blue Heron, Hermit Thrush, Golden-crowned Kinglet, Yellow-rumped Warbler, Swamp Sparrow, White-throated Sparrow). And, of course, the three gulls and Double-crested Cormorant.

What do these birds eat all winter? Of course, as long as the water stays open (as it has for many years now), the water birds have fishy prey and, for most waterfowl, salt-water-loving plants. Some of the land birds seem to be able to find dormant insects and grubs but mostly their winter feed consists of seeds (grasses, marsh plants, herbs and forbs) or berries (Red Cedar and Poison Ivy being the most widespread and the most popular around here). The other day I saw Flickers, Robins, Chickadees, Yellow-rumped Warblers and Am Goldfinches eating Poison Ivy berries. The Goldfinches also like the Baccharis seeds which are similar to their favored thistle seed; the Chicakees also know how to pull out the tufts and nip off the seeds at the end. This was not a very good year for Red Cedar berries (really juniper berries, similar to the stuff that gin is made out of) so the Yellow-rumps are down somewhat but, as always, Poison Ivy and Baccharis is in profusion.

Eric Salzman

more on yesterday's Montauk visit

In addition to the vast numbers of Laughing Gulls present yesterday at Montauk Point (on Block Island Sound, east and south of the point itself and at Ditch Plains), Ted Floyd reports that there were still more of these birds birds on Lake Montauk. All in all, the numbers were easily in the range of five figures; i.e. 10,000+ birds. A significant phenomenon indeed, especially since we are dealing with an essentially (or perhaps one should say, originally) southern bird which has only colonized Long Island in relatively recent times and which, even today, only breeds as far east as Moriches Bay. Where do these birds come from and what causes them to congregate in such numbers? My guess is that these numbers result of from a dispersal of southern birds similar to the dispersal of Royal and Forster's Terns to the north. And, as with the terns, these birds travel along up and down (with their young) looking for schools of bait fish which are also moving along the coast. Since most of the local terns have moved south, the Bonaparte's Gulls have yet to appear and the larger gulls are too clumsy to catch fast-moving fish, there is an opportunity for these small and agile gulls.

Ted also saw large movements of Common Eiders in the afternoon suggesting that there are at least 250 birds of this species at or near the point. Even more extraordinary was his estimate of c. 500 Northern Gannets. Ted's final list also included Harlequin (a fly-by) and, at last, the Cory's Shearwater he searched for so assiduously. He also agreed that the jaeger we saw was a Parasitic. All in all, it was a big day with a total of 45 species.

Eric Salzmanmore 

a Laughing Gull Festival

Ted Floyd, the editor of BIRDING Magazine (a publication of the American Birding Association for which I do some writing and editing) was on Long Island and we agreed to meet early this morning at Montauk. Since Ted lives and works in Colorado Springs, Colorado, the ocean is a bit of an exotic locale for him (not that I get out to Montauk that often). I even tried to find some kind of ocean-going vessel from which he could bird-watch but birding pelagic trips are long over for the season and even the Montauk party fishing boats just go a few yards off the point these days. So we settled for the overlooks from the back of the restaurant (closed for the winter but with an open terrace that offers good views over Block Island Sound) and the cliffs at Camp Hero (with spectacular views over the Atlantic). We also stopped at Ditch Plains and at the entrance to Lake Montauk.

The reason the Montauk party fishing boats don't have to go far at this time of the year is the same reason that fisherman line the shore surfcasting on a windy, threatening Tuesday morning in late October: there are fish right off the point. And where they are fish, there are birds to catch them. Ironically, the birds and the larger fish (the ones the fisherfolk are trying to catch) are feeding on the same schools of bait fish. As is well known, fishermen on boats and on shore use the presence and location of fishing birds to decide where they should cast their lines.

When I say fishing birds, I mean lots of fishing birds. Most extraordinary were the numbers of Laughing Gulls around the point, literally thousands upon thousands of them feeding in ever-shifting patterns. The Laughing Gulls that were not already part of the feeding frenzy were winging their way towards the action, creating a scene that was constantly in motion, seemingly in every direction. Sometimes the birds were spread out but they would often coalesce into feeding flocks -- pods, hordes, vortices of birds twisting and turning, dipping and plucking at the lapping, cresting water in an extraordinary meeting of air and sea. Laughing Gulls are not rare or exotic birds -- they are the common summer gull in New York City waters -- but it was amazing to see them en masse, riding the wind and scraping the rolling surface of water roiled by the wind, currents, unseen fish and on-coming bad weather. 

The Laughing Gulls were not alone. They were accompanied by Herring Gulls -- mostly young birds -- and a very few Great Black-backed Gulls. Nearby were an exceptional number of Northern Gannets in all plumages (but dominated by adult birds), diving, resurfacing, digesting, taking flight again. The numbers and closeness of the Gannets hurtling out of the air into the water was also special and occasionally a Gannet would soar close to the cliffs on which we were standing, showing the blue bill, buffy head and neck, and enormous size of this sea bird. Gannets are as big or bigger than  albatrosses and, although their wingspan is somewhat less, they soar almost as effortlessly.

Just off shore, there were many hundreds of Common Eiders, also in all plumages. Further out  were long strings of Scoters, mostly Black but also including lesser numbers of Surf and White-winged Scoters. Other notables included both loons and a few Long-tailed Ducks. 

Our aim in visiting the point was to find pelagics and in this respect we did not do so well. We got a distant glimpse of one fast-moving jaeger, either a Pomarine or a Parasitic (the bird looked more like the former but the odds favor the latter this close to shore). A single Great Cormorant was sitting on the east jetty at the entrance to Montauk Harbor and, at Ditch Plains, we saw a few Sanderlings along with, yes, hundreds and thousands more Laughing Gulls.

Eric Salzman

grackles & sparrows

At dawn this morning, a flock of many thousands of blackbirds -- most probably the same grackle flock seen (and heard) yesterday -- came overhead moving from the southwest across Weesuck Creek to the northeast. It took several minutes to get across; the numbers were probably into the five-figure range. They briefly settled on the other side of the creek (where they set up a racket) but eventually moved on. Not long after, a flock of hundreds of Red-winged Blackbirds came up from the reeds at the head of the marsh, also moving in the same direction.

Aside from a single Red-eyed Vireo and the by-now usual locals, the bird activity was not great. 

When Eileen Schwinn appeared to suggest a ride down to Dune Road, I instantly agreed. The objective was the area just to the east of Ponquogue Bridge. The parking lot, grassy edges and weedy dune vegetation attract birds and Eileen promised some notable members of the sparrow tribe. She was right. Besides the familiar Song, Swamp and White-throated Sparrows, there were White-crowned Sparrows (including at least one handsome adult), Chipping Sparrows, many Juncos and one Field Sparrow. Other birds on site included dozens, perhaps hundreds, of Yellow-Rumped Warblers, Golden-crowned Kinglets, a Flicker and a Catbird. Two falcons -- a probable Kestrel and a Merlin -- turned up to enliven the proceedings. 

I got an e-mail yesterday from Nick Hamblet (a Shelter Islander whose e-mail address is "birdsandbugs"} suggesting that the elevator insects I saw a couple of days ago dancing up and down in a beam of afternoon sunlight were most likely Dance Flies. He also mentions that they might have been Common Midges but I suspect that midges are quite a bit smaller than these bugs. Dance Flies look right. They are a large group of flies traditionally catalogued under the name empididae (a name that birders can love as their favorite little flycatchers are called "Empids") but now are more usually classified as hybotidae). There are a lot of species in this classification so it is difficult to say which ones I saw (or even which ones are likely to occur in our area) but as a group these flies are notable for their habit of catching other, smaller insects and wrapping them up as a gift for the females, a presentation that takes place during or just after the dancing display. 

Eric Salzman