There were many reports of tropical and pelagic birds in the New York area on Sunday and the Weesuck Creek Bridled Tern was not the only one of its species to have gotten caught up by Irene. Hurricanes have a history of bringing tropical birds to Long Island and a visit to the shore on The Day After seemed warranted. Since access to Dune Road -- the Shinnecock-to-Moriches Dune Road at any rate -- was still being blocked yesterday morning, we headed out to Flying Point Road and Mecox Bay. When the cut at Mecox is open, sand flats appear and so do the water birds which, in spite of the human use of the area, find a spot to hang out.
There, by the side of the bay, was Doug Futuyma, scanning the waters with his scope looking for a reported Black-capped Petrel. Doug is one of the country's leading evolutionary biologists but he is also a passionate birder. The four of us -- Doug, Eileen Schwinn, Lorna and Eric Salzman -- headed to the Mecox cut which was, in fact, open and we set up our scopes overlooking a bird-covered sand flat. This flat, traditionally one of the best shore birding spots on Eastern Long Island, sported no less than seven species of terns including three Sandwich Terns (a southern tern that turns up -- pardon the pun -- regularly after storms), two Caspian Terns (an adult and a young one; this is THE spot for this species), numbers of Royal and Common Terns, a few Forster's and Least Terns and quite a few Black Terns. The prevalence of Black Terns must be due to the storm; these birds normally move off-shore and it takes a storm to drive them to coast in any numbers. A surprise visitor was a calling Whimbrel who flew in, landed on the sand spit, proceeded to explore the dry areas and then waded out into the water for a bit before taking off. Other birds frequenting the flat were Black Skimmers, three or four species of gulls, many Sanderlings, Ruddy Turnstones, one or two dowitchers, some unidentified shorebirds and a Western Willet which had us puzzled for a while. Overhead, there was a light but steady movement of swallows -- Tree, Barn and Bank -- and four or five Osprey were constantly in the air above us during the entire time.
Eric Salzman
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Irene brings us tropical weather and a tropical bird
We were without power or phone or internet for two days. Phone service came back last night, electricity at 4:30 am this morning. Without electricity, we had no running water (we have an electric pump and, since a new well and pump were installed about 10 years ago, our old hand pump is no longer connected). However we had filled every available container in the house from bottles to bathtubs with water. And we also had candles (and matches) at the ready.
The storm hit Sunday morning before dawn and, although there was a fairly big storm surge, the water never reached the house. And there was no wind damage on or around the house although the place was strewn with broken branches, leaves and hickory nuts. An account of the storm -- written as events were still proceeding and the battery on my laptop was still holding out -- is included below.
By Sunday afternoon, as the storm moved off, there were birds active on Weesuck Creek, seen from the edge of the pond, from our neighbor's (damaged) dock near the mouth of the pond, from the end of Weesuck Avenue and from Aldrich Boat Yard. There were several Royal Terns, at least one Black Skimmer and a pod of a half a dozen or more Black Terns, all in winter plumage. These last-named, uncommon on the creek and rarely seen so close, were circling and picking food off the surface of the water right off shore, giving superb views. Sometimes they would soar up high, showing their distinctive silhouette with a squarish tail. These birds were dark on the back ranging from black to dark gray; a few, probably young birds, had dark brown or reddish brown tints in the mantle plumage. The white underparts as well as white facial and neck markings made a striking contrast to the dark mantle, black bill, cap and ear patch.
At one point, I noticed that one of the birds, although similar in many ways (acting in a similar manner, picking food off the surface), was in fact quite different. The bird was bigger with a longer black bill, less contrast on the head (a fairly thick black line seemed to extend the black of the bill right through the eye but there was only a light grayish cap on a white head), and, most striking of all, a deeply forked tail with white on it. I followed this bird as it made wider and wider arcs from one side of the creek to the other. Eventually it landed on a piece of floating debris where I could get a good view of it perched. This sleek, storm-blown bird was one of the tropical terns: a BRIDLED TERN, Sterna anaethetus, carried in from the Gulf Stream by Irene to provide a remarkable record for Weesuck Creek! I am no expert on Bridled Tern plumages but I would guess that this was a subadult bird part way into full adult plumage. It was #237 on my Birds of Weesuck Creek list (birds from the property, from the creek itself and adjacent areas).
Here are my notes from Sunday morning:
"I woke up this morning at c. 7 am to the sound of wind and rain -- a serenade that heralded the arrival of Hurricane Irene. Stormy as things were, the electricity was still functioning and I was able to make some breakfast and sit myself on the porch to watch the progress of the storm. At 8:12 we lost electricity and the sight of water creeping up the path from the pond toward the house began to become a matter of some concern. The bay was looking like the ocean with substantial waves breaking just off the rapidly disappearing shore line and then running unopposed across the marsh and even into the woods. As high tide approached, marsh, pond and creek all overflowed. This was not a flood from rain but a storm surge from the bay abetted by the continuous, punishing winds from the southwest helping to push the water up and over. Incredibly enough, these waves began rolling into the woods creating a surf line at the base of the trees and rolling ever further inland. Only the presence of a slightly higher narrow berm of high ground INSIDE the woods seem to prevent the water from crossing over to the higher open ground in front of the house! [Editor's note: the narrow berm of high ground was nothing but the line of debris dumped by the water.]
There is a large piece of blue styrofoam, formerly sitting on the path in the marsh, but now carried in to a point where it is blocked by a tree well inland. An old dock spinning by in the swollen creek waters was perhaps the same old dock that sat in the middle of the marsh and which I have used as a look-out post for the past two or three years!
The storm surge had another surprising effect. It pushed local ground water -- which is very near the surface here -- back and up so that our old right-of-way and more than one basement on Randall Lane was flooded, not with salt water, but with water from the upper aquifer. Our house is on a kind of sandy dome which is high enough, far-back enough and porous enough that it does not floods. But the land just to the southwest slopes down to an old creek bed which used to run from above Montauk Highway and which still forms (via the underground aquifer) the source of our marsh. Most of the old creek bed proper is covered in dense vegetation but the land on either side of it forms a kind of bowl through which rainwater runs and which can fill up either from heavy rains or from water back-up in case of storm surge. The pressure of the salt water storm tide literally pushes the upper water table back and up.
By 9:30, the tide began to run out and by 10:30, the surf was no longer crashing over the marsh and through the woods. All the water -- the puddles on Randall Lane, the water on our old right-of-way, even the flooded basement water in the Randall Lane houses -- began to recede. No big trees or even large limbs seem to have fallen and, although the winds continue to blow, the rain has stopped. Still no electricity either in the house system or from this battery which is running down and will shortly shut down the computer."
Eric Salzman
The storm hit Sunday morning before dawn and, although there was a fairly big storm surge, the water never reached the house. And there was no wind damage on or around the house although the place was strewn with broken branches, leaves and hickory nuts. An account of the storm -- written as events were still proceeding and the battery on my laptop was still holding out -- is included below.
By Sunday afternoon, as the storm moved off, there were birds active on Weesuck Creek, seen from the edge of the pond, from our neighbor's (damaged) dock near the mouth of the pond, from the end of Weesuck Avenue and from Aldrich Boat Yard. There were several Royal Terns, at least one Black Skimmer and a pod of a half a dozen or more Black Terns, all in winter plumage. These last-named, uncommon on the creek and rarely seen so close, were circling and picking food off the surface of the water right off shore, giving superb views. Sometimes they would soar up high, showing their distinctive silhouette with a squarish tail. These birds were dark on the back ranging from black to dark gray; a few, probably young birds, had dark brown or reddish brown tints in the mantle plumage. The white underparts as well as white facial and neck markings made a striking contrast to the dark mantle, black bill, cap and ear patch.
At one point, I noticed that one of the birds, although similar in many ways (acting in a similar manner, picking food off the surface), was in fact quite different. The bird was bigger with a longer black bill, less contrast on the head (a fairly thick black line seemed to extend the black of the bill right through the eye but there was only a light grayish cap on a white head), and, most striking of all, a deeply forked tail with white on it. I followed this bird as it made wider and wider arcs from one side of the creek to the other. Eventually it landed on a piece of floating debris where I could get a good view of it perched. This sleek, storm-blown bird was one of the tropical terns: a BRIDLED TERN, Sterna anaethetus, carried in from the Gulf Stream by Irene to provide a remarkable record for Weesuck Creek! I am no expert on Bridled Tern plumages but I would guess that this was a subadult bird part way into full adult plumage. It was #237 on my Birds of Weesuck Creek list (birds from the property, from the creek itself and adjacent areas).
Here are my notes from Sunday morning:
"I woke up this morning at c. 7 am to the sound of wind and rain -- a serenade that heralded the arrival of Hurricane Irene. Stormy as things were, the electricity was still functioning and I was able to make some breakfast and sit myself on the porch to watch the progress of the storm. At 8:12 we lost electricity and the sight of water creeping up the path from the pond toward the house began to become a matter of some concern. The bay was looking like the ocean with substantial waves breaking just off the rapidly disappearing shore line and then running unopposed across the marsh and even into the woods. As high tide approached, marsh, pond and creek all overflowed. This was not a flood from rain but a storm surge from the bay abetted by the continuous, punishing winds from the southwest helping to push the water up and over. Incredibly enough, these waves began rolling into the woods creating a surf line at the base of the trees and rolling ever further inland. Only the presence of a slightly higher narrow berm of high ground INSIDE the woods seem to prevent the water from crossing over to the higher open ground in front of the house! [Editor's note: the narrow berm of high ground was nothing but the line of debris dumped by the water.]
There is a large piece of blue styrofoam, formerly sitting on the path in the marsh, but now carried in to a point where it is blocked by a tree well inland. An old dock spinning by in the swollen creek waters was perhaps the same old dock that sat in the middle of the marsh and which I have used as a look-out post for the past two or three years!
The storm surge had another surprising effect. It pushed local ground water -- which is very near the surface here -- back and up so that our old right-of-way and more than one basement on Randall Lane was flooded, not with salt water, but with water from the upper aquifer. Our house is on a kind of sandy dome which is high enough, far-back enough and porous enough that it does not floods. But the land just to the southwest slopes down to an old creek bed which used to run from above Montauk Highway and which still forms (via the underground aquifer) the source of our marsh. Most of the old creek bed proper is covered in dense vegetation but the land on either side of it forms a kind of bowl through which rainwater runs and which can fill up either from heavy rains or from water back-up in case of storm surge. The pressure of the salt water storm tide literally pushes the upper water table back and up.
By 9:30, the tide began to run out and by 10:30, the surf was no longer crashing over the marsh and through the woods. All the water -- the puddles on Randall Lane, the water on our old right-of-way, even the flooded basement water in the Randall Lane houses -- began to recede. No big trees or even large limbs seem to have fallen and, although the winds continue to blow, the rain has stopped. Still no electricity either in the house system or from this battery which is running down and will shortly shut down the computer."
Eric Salzman
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Tupelo berries and a Short-tailed Shrew
After a bit of rain and wind Thursday night, yesterday morning was dead calm and blue-sky sunny with a hot sun and a fair amount of humidity. The calm before the storm? Most of the birds were in the Tupelo grove at the head of the marsh, taking care to stoke up while good weather prevails. There is an extraordinary symbiosis between the trees and the birds. The trees 'need' the birds to distribute their seeds so they 'offer' the birds a bounty of berries. In order to signal that the berries are getting ripe, a certain percentage of the Tupelo leaves turn bright red, well in advance of the time when the other trees start to turn. The birds recognize this signal and come in to gorge themselves -- a beautiful example of what is sometimes called 'co-evolution'. Catbirds, Robins and Cedar Waxwings are in the lead with both old and young birds at the table. Other birds in the trees possibly feeding on the harvest as well were Downy and Red-bellied Woodpeckers, Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, Starling, Black-capped Chickadee, Common Yellowthroat and American Goldfinch (two handsome males moving together in a strikingly non-competitive way). In the skies above were a couple of Chimney Swifts and Purple Martins. In the area (but not eating berries) were the usual blackbirds (Grackles and Red-wings) and corvids (Blue Jays and Crows), at least one Ruby-throated Hummingbird, a calling Northern Flicker and at least two Northern Waterthrushes, one chasing the other.
Thursday evening, a Short-tailed Shrew appeared by the entrance to the cottage that faces the driveway. This creature, immediately identifiable by its absurdly short, spikey tail, was spotted by my daughter Stephanie who recognized that it was not a rodent. We often find dead shrews but rarely see a live specimen as they tend to burrow beneath the leaves and perhaps even under the surface. These animals are reputed to have a poor sense of smell (which seems odd in view of their pointy snout) and, like their cousins, the moles, they are also said to have poor hearing and poor eyesight. This brings up the question of how they find food! But find it they do; they are reputed to be among the most common of wild animals. Shrews have the reputation of being hyperactive and this one fit the mold as it dashed up and back, under and around the little ramp leading to the door of the cottage. Shrews are not rodents. They used to be put in a category known as Insectivora, a classification that has now been abandoned as its members have been split up between several families. Our local species would be the Northern Short-tailed Shrew, Blarina brevicauda, recently split from its southern sister species.
This morning was calm and overcast, the air thick with humidity, the sound of distant surf and the hint of the huge lurking storm to come. Overhead a shorebird -- almost certainly a Lesser Yellowlegs -- came scooting across the lowering sky, its single 'tew' note call seeming to sound a storm warning. There was a Redstart working the trees at the edge of the marsh and a few Royal Terns calling out in the creek. A family of Carolina Wrens was busy in the interior underbrush and two or three Baltimore Orioles were calling from the tree tops. An ordinary morning but with the serious overlay of threat in the sullen atmosphere.
Eric Salzman
Thursday evening, a Short-tailed Shrew appeared by the entrance to the cottage that faces the driveway. This creature, immediately identifiable by its absurdly short, spikey tail, was spotted by my daughter Stephanie who recognized that it was not a rodent. We often find dead shrews but rarely see a live specimen as they tend to burrow beneath the leaves and perhaps even under the surface. These animals are reputed to have a poor sense of smell (which seems odd in view of their pointy snout) and, like their cousins, the moles, they are also said to have poor hearing and poor eyesight. This brings up the question of how they find food! But find it they do; they are reputed to be among the most common of wild animals. Shrews have the reputation of being hyperactive and this one fit the mold as it dashed up and back, under and around the little ramp leading to the door of the cottage. Shrews are not rodents. They used to be put in a category known as Insectivora, a classification that has now been abandoned as its members have been split up between several families. Our local species would be the Northern Short-tailed Shrew, Blarina brevicauda, recently split from its southern sister species.
This morning was calm and overcast, the air thick with humidity, the sound of distant surf and the hint of the huge lurking storm to come. Overhead a shorebird -- almost certainly a Lesser Yellowlegs -- came scooting across the lowering sky, its single 'tew' note call seeming to sound a storm warning. There was a Redstart working the trees at the edge of the marsh and a few Royal Terns calling out in the creek. A family of Carolina Wrens was busy in the interior underbrush and two or three Baltimore Orioles were calling from the tree tops. An ordinary morning but with the serious overlay of threat in the sullen atmosphere.
Eric Salzman
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Evening Primroses in the morning
This morning dawned clear, humid, dry, dewless, blue sky (a haze of clouds gradually appeared) with on-shore winds from the south (carrying the sound of surf) but otherwise very quiet and not very birdy. Where were the birds? Everyone seemed to be lying low as if in anticipation of the coming storms. If there's a hurricane in the offing, it still seems very far away but there is a rather ominous tropical aura about the weather; something, it seems, is about to happen. Although the swallows and martins continued to be conspicuous by their absence, there were herons (two Great Blues, a Green on the dead cedar by the pond and at least one Great Egret). Both the Spotted Sandpiper and Northern Waterthrush reappeared and there were Brown Thrashers in the woods and a few Gray Catbirds here and there. A few calls from the Jays and Crows. An occasional cicada trying to get its motor started. But mostly the background was only the sound of the wind in the trees.
In yesterday's post, I forgot to mention that Rocky Raccoon -- actually Rocky Jr. -- was back on his formerly favorite sleeping post in the crotch of a big old Pitch Pine. In fact, he wasn't sleeping at all but doing his toilette and eyeing me a mite suspiciously. No sign of him this morning.
Above is one of my point-and-shoot photos, this one of Evening Primroses. I managed to save a number of these plants from one of our rare attempts at 'mowing the lawn' and now I am rewarded with a burst of yellow blossoms. The yellow is much more intense than it shows in the picture. In spite of the name, the peak of flowering is not in the evening but early in the morning although I imagine that the yellow color is designed to attract moths. Not long ago, I watched a Ruby-throated Hummingbird feeding on these flowers which stay quite bright until late in the morning when the full sun hits them.
Eric Salzman
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
What's not there
Sometimes what's not there is more notable than what turns up!
No swallows or martins this morning. It was beautiful weather for migration and a number of species seem to have taken advantage of this by leaving us. There were no egrets or herons, no Spotted Sandpiper or Northern Waterthrush (staples of the past few weeks) and just one lone Royal to represent the terns.
On the other hand, there was a pod of Common Yellowthroats in the 'migration trap', just back of the pond, along with a Carolina Wren (Carolina Wrens are not big migrants but, like many resident birds, they do move around a bit; our local breeders rarely turn up in the migration trap). There continue to be many Gray Catbirds with the largest numbers feeding on the ripening berries in the Tupelo grove at the head of the marsh along with B-c Chickadees and a few Robins and Starlings. Also still in evidence: a female-type Ruby-throated Hummingbird, an Eastern Kingbird, a Brown Thrasher, a Prairie Warbler and both male and female Belted Kingfishers.
Eric Salzman
No swallows or martins this morning. It was beautiful weather for migration and a number of species seem to have taken advantage of this by leaving us. There were no egrets or herons, no Spotted Sandpiper or Northern Waterthrush (staples of the past few weeks) and just one lone Royal to represent the terns.
On the other hand, there was a pod of Common Yellowthroats in the 'migration trap', just back of the pond, along with a Carolina Wren (Carolina Wrens are not big migrants but, like many resident birds, they do move around a bit; our local breeders rarely turn up in the migration trap). There continue to be many Gray Catbirds with the largest numbers feeding on the ripening berries in the Tupelo grove at the head of the marsh along with B-c Chickadees and a few Robins and Starlings. Also still in evidence: a female-type Ruby-throated Hummingbird, an Eastern Kingbird, a Brown Thrasher, a Prairie Warbler and both male and female Belted Kingfishers.
Eric Salzman
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
this morning looked good . . .
Yesterday's change in weather suggested that there might be a movement of migrants last night but, in our corner of the world at least, it didn't really materialize. The big show this morning was a swallow spectacle -- mostly Barn but with a couple of Trees and at least one Bank mixed in. They were all over the marsh and there were some spectacular aerial acrobatics but it lasted only for the first hour or so of the morning. Afterwards most of the swallows disappeared (although they were followed by numbers of Purple Martins flying quite high).
As for other migrants, the most notable arrival was a large, greenish/olive Empid with a fairly strong eye ring and wing bars, most probably an Acadian Flycatcher. It was in very fresh plumage which reinforces the Acadian ID (Acadians molt into fresh plumage on the breeding grounds -- which most other Empids do not -- so they arrive here looking quite spiffy).
Afterwards I went back out with Eileen Schwinn (she came by with the same thought about the change in weather) and we found a few more migrants: Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher, Black-and-white Warbler, Also two young Baltimore Orioles working the tree tops, Common Yellowthroats working the shrubs and a few Royal Terns working the creek. A large raptor reappeared, this time discovered by the Crows who put up a huge racket. Unfortunately, the object of their loud vituperations and maledictions disappeared through the trees before I could get a good look.
Eric Salzman
As for other migrants, the most notable arrival was a large, greenish/olive Empid with a fairly strong eye ring and wing bars, most probably an Acadian Flycatcher. It was in very fresh plumage which reinforces the Acadian ID (Acadians molt into fresh plumage on the breeding grounds -- which most other Empids do not -- so they arrive here looking quite spiffy).
Afterwards I went back out with Eileen Schwinn (she came by with the same thought about the change in weather) and we found a few more migrants: Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher, Black-and-white Warbler, Also two young Baltimore Orioles working the tree tops, Common Yellowthroats working the shrubs and a few Royal Terns working the creek. A large raptor reappeared, this time discovered by the Crows who put up a huge racket. Unfortunately, the object of their loud vituperations and maledictions disappeared through the trees before I could get a good look.
Eric Salzman
Monday, August 22, 2011
A big hawk and delicious death trumpets
The big excitement this morning was the huge racket from a troupe of Blue Jays who discovered a big hawk. The raptor, perched high inside the canopy, was a young Cooper's, probably a female judging by size; it was brown with a yellow eye, streaky on the breast and had a tail that was long, barred, rounded and white-tipped. It flew when I approached but the jays pursued it almost literally from one tree to the next until it finally left the premises.
There were a lot of Barn Swallows and a few Tree over the marsh this morning, a spin-off from the large swallow movements taking place along the beach. There were also at least two dozen Purple Martins in the air but whether these are the same birds from our colony or replacement migrants is impossible to tell (the swallows are probably new since the local Barn Swallows seem to have moved out a while back). The movements of the past few days have included the first Blue-wing Warbler of the season, a Black-and-white Warbler and an Eastern Towhee, all on Saturday. Yesterday there was a pair of Eastern Kingbirds -- at least one of them was a young bird -- also dueling with some local Blue Jays who, for some reasons, didn't like having them around. Northern Waterthrush, Common Yellowthroats and lots of Gray Catbirds have continued in the shrubs bordering the marsh. One of the Yellowthroats, a young male with a shining yellow breast, was developing his black mask and even attempting a sort of scratchy version of a yellowthroat song.
Although Royal Terns continue to frequent the creek, there is almost a complete absence of Common Terns. As we saw on Plum Island on Saturday, vast numbers of Common Terns, adults and young, have moved away from their breeding sites to concentrate at key feeding areas. On Plum Island, the young birds were mostly perched on large off-shore boulders while the adults were fishing in the Plum Gut (the channel that separates Plum Island from Orient Point), on the very visible line that separates Long Island Sound from Gardiners Bay or wherever the fish were running in the area. Adults with fish in their beaks would come in calling and make the run along the coast until they could find their offspring to feed. This is a major staging area (Montauk is another) for the terns before they commence their stupendous migrations south to South America.
There was a burst of Evening Primrose blossoms and Black Trumpets appeared for the first time this season along with the continuing emergence of Chanterelles. Black Trumpets also carry the ominous French name of Trompette de la Mort (or Trompette des morts) but in spite of that scary-sounding moniker, they are one of the best edible mushroom, related to the chanterelles and often growing the same places.
Eric Salzman
There were a lot of Barn Swallows and a few Tree over the marsh this morning, a spin-off from the large swallow movements taking place along the beach. There were also at least two dozen Purple Martins in the air but whether these are the same birds from our colony or replacement migrants is impossible to tell (the swallows are probably new since the local Barn Swallows seem to have moved out a while back). The movements of the past few days have included the first Blue-wing Warbler of the season, a Black-and-white Warbler and an Eastern Towhee, all on Saturday. Yesterday there was a pair of Eastern Kingbirds -- at least one of them was a young bird -- also dueling with some local Blue Jays who, for some reasons, didn't like having them around. Northern Waterthrush, Common Yellowthroats and lots of Gray Catbirds have continued in the shrubs bordering the marsh. One of the Yellowthroats, a young male with a shining yellow breast, was developing his black mask and even attempting a sort of scratchy version of a yellowthroat song.
Although Royal Terns continue to frequent the creek, there is almost a complete absence of Common Terns. As we saw on Plum Island on Saturday, vast numbers of Common Terns, adults and young, have moved away from their breeding sites to concentrate at key feeding areas. On Plum Island, the young birds were mostly perched on large off-shore boulders while the adults were fishing in the Plum Gut (the channel that separates Plum Island from Orient Point), on the very visible line that separates Long Island Sound from Gardiners Bay or wherever the fish were running in the area. Adults with fish in their beaks would come in calling and make the run along the coast until they could find their offspring to feed. This is a major staging area (Montauk is another) for the terns before they commence their stupendous migrations south to South America.
There was a burst of Evening Primrose blossoms and Black Trumpets appeared for the first time this season along with the continuing emergence of Chanterelles. Black Trumpets also carry the ominous French name of Trompette de la Mort (or Trompette des morts) but in spite of that scary-sounding moniker, they are one of the best edible mushroom, related to the chanterelles and often growing the same places.
Eric Salzman
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