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Algonquin August 2023

Warbler River (Algonquin Observations August 2023, Part 3)

One early morning in Algonquin Park, within the Pog Lake Campground, I took a walk to a river and a dam. Here, with the sun rising and the river flowing noisily over the dam, I could hear the faint little remarks of small songbirds zipping from branch-tip to branch-tip. I caught their colourful feathers reflecting the early morning light and from their frenetic foraging I identified them as members of that most energetic and wonderful group of birds known as Wood-Warblers (Family Parulidae). At least… most of them were Wood-Warblers. One avian exception was thrown into the mix.

From early morning visits in the light and an evening journey with fog muting the colours of the trees and birds, I spied and photographed 6 species of brids, some of them close enough to observe especially well. There was a tunnel formed of trees which created a surrounding of places for small birds to hop about me, sort of a shark tunnel for birding, with much less threatening subjects of observation. As the small birds moved about and around me I marveled at their bursts of flight and keen senses that enabled them to glean trees of insect inhabitants.

What follows is a swift tour through the birds I observed and photographed at this wonderful location, a flyby if you will.

Least Flycatcher (Empidonax minimus):

The one non-warbler was a Least Flycatcher (Empidonax minimus), another migratory bird but only very distantly related to the Wood-Warblers. Least Flycatchers appear in Ontario during May and usually leave by September (after breeding), setting off for their wintering grounds in Mexico and Central America (Tozer 2012). They are very common and widespread in Ontario during their stay, but are not often noticed, at least by me.

Magnolia Warbler (Setophaga magnolia):

This was the best shot I got of this sneaky bird.

Magnolia Warblers spend their breeding season, from about May to September nesting along the edges of forests of conifers or mixed trees (Tozer 2012). These beautiful birds are striking for their bright yellow undersides and was originally named the “Black-and-yellow Warbler” but is now more commonly called the Magnolia Warbler. Below is an excellent little window into one ornithologist’s encounter with these birds at the end of the 19th century. I think this piece of writing by William Brewster (Brewster 1877) captures some of the wonder I feel whenever I encounter warblers:

“At length, entering a grove of thick growing young spruces, I sat down to rest on a mossy log. I had been there but a short time when I became conscious of faint sounds in the trees above and around me, — chirpings, twitterings, and occasionally a modest little effort at song. Watching attentively, I soon spied a movement among the branches, and a tiny bird hopped out into the light, presenting a bright yellow breast and throat for just a moment before flying into the next tree, Here was a revelation ! I already knew a few of the most familiar birds, — the Robin, the Bluebird, the Sparrow, the Oriole, and some others; but it had never occurred to me that dark forests like these might be tenanted by such delicate and beautiful forms. Only the tropics surely could boast such gems.”

Yellow-rumped Warbler (Setophaga coronata):

Displaying its namesake yellow rump, this is perhaps a female based on her lack of blue patterning across her back, but young males have similar coloration.

Yellow-rumped Warblers are generalist warblers, using a variety of coniferous and mixed forests for their nesting habitat, and foraging with varied techniques including fly-catching and gleaning (Tozer 2012). These generalist habits make them a common sight, and that’s certainly a cause for celebration as their flitting trails through the foliage are wonderful to watch. Yellow-rumped Warblers have been sighted in Algonquin Park into November, but normally they depart for their United States wintering range during October (Tozer 2012).

This individual is a male, based on the darker coloration on his back. He has caught some sort of insect in his beak.


Chestnut-sided Warbler (Setophaga pensylvanica):

Chestnut-sided Warblers have some wonderful patterns.

While the preceding Warblers use conifers for nesting, the Chestnut-sided Warbler prefers open secondary forests and shrublands, historically caused by fire and more recently caused by human disturbances such as logging (Tozer 2012). Indeed, as humans have changed the forests of North America, these colorful birds have become more common as their preferred habitat has spread. Chapman (1917) writes: “The Chestnut-sided Warbler, for example, considered by Wilson and Audubon to be a rare species, is now abundant, and we may believe that this change in numbers is due largely to the development of those scrub and second growths in which the bird delights.”

I believe this is a young bird based on its washed-out colours and the lack of distinctive patterning of the adults of this species.


This is the same bird as above, showing it from a rather different angle than usually seen. It certainly makes the bird appear to be well-fed.

American Redstart (Setophaga ruticilla):

“If a bird exists which is more constantly in motion and in a greater variety of ways, I have yet to see it.” – Frank Chapman, in Warblers of North America (1917).

The first several times I observed American Redstarts, I didn’t realize they were Wood-Warblers. I think the very dark and bright coloration didn’t match my association of Parulids with generally yellows and pale blues or white. The females are green-grey and yellow and white so they seem more in line with my description above, but the males are unmistakably distinctive. My first remembered encounter with Redstarts was in MacGregor Provincial Park (you can read about it here). They are memorable not just for their striking coloration but for their rapid foraging style, described beautifully by Chapman (1917) as “a mad series of darts and dives and whirls, of onward rushes and as sudden stops”.


Black-and-white Warbler (Mniotilta varia)

Similar to the American Redstart, the Black-and-white Warbler seems to be an odd one in the group appearance-wise. This monochromatic species also displays a different foraging strategy than the frenetic foliage-gleaning and hovering more typical of the Wood-Warblers. The Black-and-white Warbler forages much more similarly to a Nuthatch (Sitta sp.) or Brown Creeper (Certhia americana), crawling up and down trees and branches, using its elongated hind-claw and shorter legs to do so (Tozer 2012). The scientific name of this bird translates as “variegated moss-plucker”, in reference to their foraging methods (Hughes 2001). Another surprise from this small bird is that the “nest is usually located on the ground, often in a depression at the base of a tree, stump, or shrub, or under logs or dead branches” (Tozer 2012). What an amazing creature.

Black-and-white Warbler which one could easily mistake for a White-Breasted Nuthatch.

The Wood-Warblers I observed (and the Least Flycatcher too), all arrive in Algonquin in Spring and depart in the Fall; they use the resources of the northern forests swiftly before retreating to southern ranges as winter approaches. I’m glad I was present to see and capture their foraging, flitting, forms among the branches and tree trunks of the riverside in Pog Lake campground, and going through these photos again makes me look forward to their return this Spring.

Yellow-rumped Warbler (Setophaga coronata)

References:

Brewster, William. “THE BLACK-AND-YELLOW WARBLER (DENDRŒCA MACULOSA).” Bulletin of the Nuttall Ornithological Club 2, no. 1 (1877): 1–7. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24723498.

Chapman, Frank. 1917. The Warblers of North America. Dover edition, 1968.

Hughes, Janice M. 2001. The ROM Field Guide to Birds of Ontario. Royal Ontario Museum.

Tozer, Ron. 2012. Birds of Algonquin Park. The Friends of Algonquin Park.

For Previous Algonquin Observation posts, see:

Lakeside Lives (Algonquin Observations August 2023, Part 2)

Campsite Companions (Algonquin Observations August 2023, Part 1)

Robber Fly Hunting Queen Ant

Algonquin in August

Canada Jay (Perisoreus canadensis)

Moose (Alces alces) Family

Algonquin Observations, Part 5 – Spruce Bog: The Reckoning

Algonquin Observations, Part 4 – Spruce Bog Speedrun and the Logging Museum Trail

Algonquin Observations, Part 3 – Peck Lake Trail

Algonquin Observations, Part 2 – Opeongo Road

Algonquin Observations, Part 1 – Pog Lake Campground

Categories
Nature Observations

Port Burwell Observations, July 2023

At the beginning of July, my family and I were camping in Port Burwell Provincial Park. While there, as I usually do when camping, I took some photos of the creatures I encountered and I’d like to explore some of them and what I can find out about them here. So here goes…

On my first night there I found myself sitting alone with a book and a small clip-on reading light in a dining tent (which was open to the outside, for at least part of the night). My tiny beacon of light attracted several insect investigators and I quickly became distracted from my reading*.

*If you must know (as I would want to know if I was the blog’s reader), I was reading a collection of sci-fi short stories: Galaxy: Thirty Years of Innovative Science Fiction, edited by Frederik Pohl, Martin H. Greenberg, and Joseph D. Olander.

The most abundant insects alighting on my illuminated pages were members of that vast insect Order: Diptera, the Flies. Two that I photographed were likely the same species, and I suspect were male and female representatives. I have tentatively identified them as members of the genus Neurigona based on iNaturalist. They are certainly long-legged dance flies (Family Dolichopodidae). Dolichopodids are diverse flies (there are around 7000 species in the world (Marshall 2012)) which often hunt other flies and springtails as adults. There are about 150 species in the genus Neurigona (Marshall 2012).

Long-legged Dance Fly (Family Dolichopodidae) attracted to my reading light, possibly of the genus Neurigona.

A beautiful little vinegar fly (a member of the Family Drosophilidae) graced the pages of my book as well: Chymomyza amoena. This species, along with the other members of its genus are “almost invariably present on fallen or wounded trees” (Marshall 2012 p. 477).

Chymomyza amoena, a member of the Family Drosophilidae, of which the most famous member is the Common Fruit Fly Drosophila melanogaster, ubiquitous in kitchens and laboratories the world over.

Two notable non-Flies made their appearance amid the glowing reading light. A tiny pale yellow leafhopper was just barely noticeable among the typed letters on the page, a member of the genus Edwardsiana

Tiny tiny leafhopper of the genus Edwardsiana.

A dark beetle also scuttled across the words of my reading material, which I believe to be a Ground Beetle (Family Carabidae), possibly of the genus Bembidion.

Ground Beetle scurrying across the title of the sci-fi story I was reading, “The Holes Around Mars” by Jerome Bixby.

The next day, I did a tour of the campsite with my camera in order to find more subjects to photograph and identify. One creature located on my dining tent was another beautifully patterned fly: Thaumatomyia. This genus of flies contains some species which feed on aphids as larvae and others which bore and feed within grass stems (Marshall 2012).

Chloropid fly in the genus Thaumatomyia.

Nearby was a prowling spider which is possibly the False Pirate Spider (Platnickia tincta):

Sliding slowly across the leaf litter was a pale orange slug of the genus Arion:

I was just able to capture this amazing butterfly that landed for a few moments on the ground, an Appalachian Brown (Lethe appalachia). Appalachian Brown caterpillars feed on sedges (Carex spp) and spend the winter in the caterpillar stage (Hall et. al. 2014).

Appalachian Brown Butterfly (Lethe appalachia).

On the walk to the beach there were plenty of insects worthy of attention but I didn’t want to block the path of water-seeking pedestrians by crouching with my macro lens, so I decided to photograph birds there instead. There were swallows darting above the sands (more evidence of insect abundance) but they proved impossible to photograph. I took several photos of what I believed to be 2 different gull species. While reviewing my photos and posting them on iNaturalist it became clear that despite the contrast between the large brown-feathered birds and the sleek grey-and-white ones the birds were all members of the same species: the Ring-billed Gull (Larus delawarensis). 

Ring-Billed Gull (Larus delawarensis) panting in the heat to keep cool.
Another Ring-billed Gull, lacking the sharp white-and-grey plumage of the individual photographed panting above.
All of the birds in this photo are Ring-billed Gulls (Larus delawarensis) despite the one in the background appearing larger and in a very different plumage, the mottled brown look is that of a 1-2 year old bird before they acquire the more clearly defined gray and white feathers.

My final observation of the trip was a beautiful tiny leafhopper resting on a dining tent: Otiocerus coquebertii. This species is associated with Beech, Maple and Oak, possibly feeding on fungal hyphae (the underground microscopic portions of fungi) as nymphs (Bartlett 2020).

Otiocerus coquebertii, a tiny and beautiful leafhopper.

References:

Bartlett, C. R. 2020 (and updates). Planthoppers of North America (accessed August 12, 2023). https://sites.udel.edu/planthoppers/north-america/north-american-derbidae/genus-otiocerus-kirby-1821/

Hall, Peter, Jones, Colin, Guidotti, Antonia, and Hubley, Brad. 2014. The ROM Field Guide to Butterflies of Ontario. Royal Ontario Museum.

Marshall, Stephen. 2012. Flies: The Natural History and Diversity of Diptera. Firefly Books.

For other related blogposts, see:

MacGregor Point Observations (May 2018)

Port Burwell Observations

Categories
Nature Observations

The American Woodcock in Literature and in Life

There we were, a dozen or so people standing in a field, waiting, watching, and listening. The sky began to darken, the pinks and oranges of sunset had mostly disappeared, melting into a deep purple. The chorus of trilling toads (Anaxyrus americanus) and the Eastern Towhee (Pipilio erythropthalmus) calling out its name in the woods only increased the tension on our strained ears. Suddenly, we heard the first sharp peent from the distance. We moved as a group to try to line ourselves up with the repeated metallic sound. The almost electronic or perhaps frog-like sound was produced by a very strange-looking bird, a bird that was our focus tonight. Once we thought we knew where the bird was calling from, we resumed our watchful stance, binoculars and camera lenses trained on the brush and the purplish sky above it. Then suddenly our guide, Audrey Heagy, announced that the bird was rising through the air because she could hear its wings whistling upward. Looking around I couldn’t see any living thing against the dusk sky. It felt for the first few times like a sort of magic trick. And indeed, misdirection is the bird’s intent. Eventually I got used to watching the sky for tiny dark shapes and my ears became attuned to the pitch of the birds’ wings on their ascents and descents above the darkening fields. Even so, there were times when we would hear the peent of a grounded bird so sharply and clearly that we knew exactly where it was patrolling on the ground despite not being able to see it. We would focus all of our senses on this presumed location and then be fooled by the mysterious bird’s magic tricks. 

There are many natural phenomena that I have read about before encountering personally. This was one such event: the skydance of the American Woodcock (Scolopax minor) male.

To give you an idea of what this bird looks like, and to show you their camouflage, here is a video I took of a Woodcock foraging in Pinery Provincial Park, in October 2018.

There are a few ways the Woodcock gets away with such an obvious display and yet remains safe from predators. When first launching and on final landing approach, the Woodcock moves not vertically but horizontally for a few meters, without making a sound. This silent horizontal movement really works to confuse observers as evidenced by the group of naturalists whipping their heads around every time a Woodcock would begin ascending not directly above where it was on the ground, but several meters away. The sound of their whistling wings seems to fill the air, making it extremely difficult to pinpoint where in the sky the sound is coming from.

Besides a blurry shape overhead (once winging directly over our group), we didn’t get a visual on these mysterious dancing birds. I had observed one of these stealthy creatures on a previous occasion in the woods of Pinery Provincial Park and every time I looked away I had to re-locate the foraging Woodcock. Their camouflage helps them escape predators and is extremely effective.

Here is a photo I took of the Woodcock I observed in Pinery Provincial Park in October 2018. My wife spotted the Woodcock first, somehow picking out its amazingly camouflaged form from among the fallen leaves.

I would like to end where I began my encounters with the American Woodcock: in the pages of a book. Here is a passage from one of my favourite natural history authors, Edwin Way Teale, who described the Woodcock’s behaviour so elegantly and inspired me to seek it out myself.

From A Naturalist Buys an Old Farm, by Edwin Way Teale:

“Its performance begins with the brown chunky long-billed bird walking about in the open field, turning this way and that, uttering again and again a buzzing nasal ‘peent!’… The call seems now far away, now close at hand, according to the direction the bird is pointing. Then there is a moment of silence. It is followed by the winnowing sound of its wings and we see its dark little form speeding in a wide climbing curve against the light of the sky… Higher and higher in great sweeping circles it mounts above the pasture. We follow with our eyes its retreating form, often losing it in the sky. At the height of its ascent the song begins. The sweet frail twittering sound at times seems to come from all directions, the notes to shower down around us. And while the song goes on it is joined by a quavering musical strain produced by three stiff narrow feathers at each wingtip. They vibrate int he wind as the bird plunges, veering wildly, falling through the sky like a gust-blown leaf. The end comes abruptly – an almost vertical descent to the darkened meadow. Then the “peenting” calls begin once more.”

For previous bird observation blogposts, see:

Eaters of the Dead

The Teal Tale Teale Told

A Green Heron Stalks the Shallows

Return of the Ravens

3. Canada Jay (Perisoreus canadensis)

The Wonders of Wrens

Pinery Birds, Winter 2019

Categories
Nature Observations

Bullfrogs and Buffleheads

I usually like to discuss my nature observations soon after I make them, but that’s not always possible. In light of this, I’d like to describe some photos I took way back in March of this year. The week was rainy except for one day and I was determined to get out there and take some photos of birds, so I took a drive to Long Point and visited two marshy trails and was successful.

One of my main sightings on this trek were various ducks and geese. Ducks other than Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) have the annoying habit of staying on the far side of whatever water body they are in, which means that I usually can’t take good pictures of them with my camera. On this excursion, I spied many of these groups of ducks keeping a wary distance and took many blurry photos of them. Most of these shy non-Mallards* were Ring-necked Ducks (Aythya collaris). One pair of ducks actually allowed me to get much closer and take decent pictures of them. These were Buffleheads (Bucephala albeola). By their extravagant head design, it was a pair of males. Buffleheads are related to mergansers and similarly dive for their food, which is mostly aquatic insects and snails (Baldassarre 2014). They make their nests in tree cavities (mainly those fashioned by Northern Flickers (Colaptes auratus)), and breed in the northern forests of North America wherever these woodpeckers are commonly nesting (Baldassarre 2014). The Buffleheads I spied floating across a Long Point marsh were either spending the winter here or moving back north to breeding habitats.

*for the record, I have nothing against Mallard Ducks and I usually end up taking pictures of them too (they are quite beautiful birds) but there is definitely a part of me that wants to see and encounter creatures that are new to me and Mallards are… well, they’re the most commonly encountered ducks in the world. I could use a very similar paragraph to explain my feelings toward Canada Geese (Branta canadensis).

Hanging out with the Buffleheads was another waterbird which I initially mistook for a female Bufflehead because of its close proximity to the males and lack of head adornment. A few minutes later the pair of males took off from the water and flew down the waterway in a flurry of black-and-white. Yet this other bird didn’t follow, instead making occasional dives beneath the water surface and popping back up again. When reviewing my photos it became clear that this bird wasn’t a Bufflehead, and it wasn’t even a Duck (member of the family Anatidae). My mystery bird was from an entirely different branch of the bird family tree, despite its superficially duck-like appearance. It was a Grebe (a member of the Family Podicepididae), specifically a Horned Grebe (Podiceps auritus).

Grebes swim in the water by means of their feet which like ducks are expanded to have more surface area but unlike a duck’s ‘webbed’ feet, grebe feet are said to be ‘lobed’. I have never seen a grebe foot before, because their feet are usually under the water while these superb swimmers float or dive. But take a look at this photo of a Horned Grebe and you will see why I mention the feet as they are very impressive.

Horned Grebe, with visible impressive feet, photo by Tomas Wuschke, used with permission.

The Horned Grebe I saw at Long Point was in its much less dramatic winter plumage (cross-reference the beautifully patterned adult in Tomas Wuschke’s photo above with the drab gray/black bird in my photo). They only very rarely breed in Ontario, and even then only at the very northern edge of the province, preferring northern Canada and Alaska where they create nests on floating vegetation in wetlands (Hughes 2001).

Muskrats (Ondatra zibethicus) were ubiquitous on both trails, frequently startling me with sudden splashes before scooting along at the surface or under the water. I observed a couple of these large rodents munching and was curious what they were eating but I was unable to tell from my photos. It could have been anything from vegetation to arthropods to fish since Muskrats are extreme generalists.

Two shockingly large birds flew in from the lake across the marsh, majestic and powerful eagles. Because of their large wingspan, I initially thought the birds to be Herons, which move south to avoid frozen water but will return once the ice has melted. Once I took some pictures I saw that the heads were definitely the heads of raptors, and I later figured out that they were juvenile Bald Eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus). 

While driving between the two trails I noticed a frog and did a double take. To notice a frog while driving says something about the frog’s size and indeed this was a representative of the largest frog species in North America: an American Bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus). This frog’s tympanum (the circular depression below and behind the eye) is much larger than its eye and its throat is yellow which indicates that this is a male, and males are generally smaller than females in this species! Bullfrogs can reach 20.3 cm (8 inches) long and will “eat nearly any animal they can capture and swallow” (Harding and Mifsud 2017).

The most noticeable resident on the second trail were the Killdeer (Charadrius vociferus), tearing about on their long legs and piercing the air with their high-pitched repeating calls. I love these birds and their distinctive cries, and seeing this many together at one time was a treat.

Before leaving each trail, I was able to photograph some small sparrows that were foraging along the paths. Watching these birds picking at the ground and presumably finding something to eat made me wonder what they could possibly be finding. A glance at the ground surface revealed no insects to me, but the Killdeer too were digging into the mud and finding plenty to eat. Watching birds forage like this always makes me marvel at the amount of life that must be present to sustain them, life that I couldn’t even see! There must be hundreds of tiny invertebrates that each bird was finding to sustain themselves. What an incredible invisible foundation to these flocks. 

American Tree Sparrow (Spizelloides arborea) photographed at the end of the second trail in Long Point.

References:

Baldassarre, Guy. 2014. Ducks, Geese and Swans of North America, 2 Vols. (revised and updated edition). Johns Hopkins University Press.

Harding, James H. and Mifsud, David A. 2017. Amphibians and Reptiles of the Great Lakes Region. University of Michigan Press.

Hughes, Janice M. 2001. The ROM Field Guide to Birds of Ontario. Royal Ontario Museum.

For related nature observations in Long Point, see:

A Green Heron Stalks the Shallows

A Visit to Big Creek, Part 1

-A Visit to Big Creek, Part 2