Tag: birding

Categories
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

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
Species Profile

The Teal Tale Teale Told

Some ducks make very different sounds than the traditional Mallard quack. On a return trip to the Big Creek conservation trail in Long Point, March 2022, I was quite intrigued to hear squadrons of ducks uttering whistle-type calls as they scooted about on the water or took to the air. These were American Green-winged Teal (Anas carolinensis), the smallest species of dabbling duck in North America, approximately pigeon-sized (Baldassarre 2014).

To hear what these small ducks sound like, here is a link to an audio recording of Green-winged Teals whistling: https://macaulaylibrary.org/asset/86925491.

Apparently, it is the males that whistle while the females produce quacks (Baldassarre 2014). Green-winged Teals breed across the boreal and deciduous forests of North America, preferring wooded wetlands. Their nests are very difficult to find, concealed among tall grasses or shrubs. These ducks migrate early in the Spring to the northern breeding grounds, and it’s likely that the Teals I saw in March were using Long Point marshes as a stopping ground on their way north.

A pair of Green-winged Teals on ice at Long Point.

Teals use their bills (and the fine toothlike combs at the edges called lamellae) to filter tiny food items from shallow water such as seeds and invertebrates. Unsurprisingly because of their overall small size, it seems that Green-winged Teals are particularly good at feeding on very small food items, as opposed to Mallards, which are more generalist feeders (Baldassarre 2014).

Two fun stories about the word ‘Teal’ to finish off with. One is that, according to wikipedia teal is a word that originally meant “small dabbling duck” or something like that and was applied to several species of ducks before it was applied to the blue-green colour*, because of the bright “teal” markings on the wings (and heads of the males).

*I can’t find this mentioned in my books about ducks or anywhere well-sourced. I believe it to be true and fascinating but wikipedia is the main source I can find this fact on, so take that how you will.

The colour on their wings and heads really is quite beautiful.

My other anecdote about Teals I would like to share is about one of my favourite nature writers, Edwin Way Teale (it’s also the reason this post has a Dr. Seussian title). In his book, North with the Spring (Teale 1951), he tells of a time when his naturalist ways came under suspicion by the law. He and his friend had been out one winter day, watching ducks at a pond. Across the pond was a building which used to be a military plant, and I guess the fear of foreign spies caused a local to report the pair of men staring in that direction with binoculars.

As Teale himself says: “The dialogue that ensued when the first officer reached us might well have been a skit on a vaudeville stage.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at ducks.”

“What’s your name?”

“Teale.”

By the light in his eye I could tell he had heard about teal ducks. The light said: A wise guy, eh?

I have friends who are named Crow, Crane, Raven and Rook. Fortunately, they were not along that day.” (Teale 1951, p. 288).

In case you forgot that Green-winged Teals are small… here are some swimming near a Canada Goose for comparison.

References:

Baldassarre, Guy. 2014. Ducks, Geese and Swans of North America, 2 Vols. Johns Hopkins University Press.

Teale, Edwin Way. 1951. North with the Spring. Dodd, Mead, & Company.

For other posts about Long Point Observations, see:

–Bullfrogs and Buffleheads

–A Visit to Big Creek, Part 1

–A Visit to Big Creek, Part 2

Categories
Nature Observations Species Profile

A Green Heron Stalks the Shallows

Over the past few years I have come to appreciate how beautiful and wonderful birds are. Along with that appreciation has been the realization that there are diverse birds within a short walk or drive of my home. I have encountered new species of birds almost every time I go out to my new favourite birding destination: Long Point. Globally renowned for being a biodiversity hotspot, and a corridor for migrating birds crossing the Great Lakes, Long Point is full of a variety of freshwater habitats and a corresponding diversity of bird species. 

My most recent exciting encounter was with a species I had never before seen up close. Before this past year “Heron” meant the Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) the only species of heron I saw regularly, certainly the most conspicuous heron species across North America. But as I was wandering down a trail amid mudflats and shallow coastal marsh, I was treated to an incredible sighting: the small agile form of a Green Heron (Butorides virescens). Stalking swiftly through the shallow water, the Green Heron snapped at the water surface with fair frequency and was always on the move while it foraged. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was eating, but it certainly wasn’t fish unless it was catching tiny individuals. My guess is that it was feeding on aquatic invertebrates such as dragonfly larvae, or other water-dwelling insects. I couldn’t believe my luck to see this beautiful little hunter foraging within a few metres of me. 

Green herons breed across the eastern United States and Southeastern Canada (including Southern Ontario). The birds start arriving in Ontario at the end of April and are gone by the end of October (Davis and Kushlan 2020). Green herons spend the winter in Mexico, Central America and Northern South America. Throughout their range they utilize essentially any fresh or salt-water habitat from inland marshes to coastal mangrove forests (Davis and Kushlan 2020). With such a diversity of habitats, they feed on a wide range of prey depending on where they are hunting including fish, frogs (and tadpoles), lizards and snakes, rodents, crayfish and crabs, aquatic and flying insects, spiders, snails, earthworms and leeches (Davis and Kushlan 2020). Besides these aquatic organisms, they even feed on such surprising prey as nestling birds (Wiley 2001). Clearly Green Herons are opportunistic foragers using a variety of feeding methods to capture such diverse prey. One of the most fascinating foraging behaviours is bait-fishing. Several birds are known to do this*, but Green Herons are the heron most frequently observed using this strategy to catch prey. In one of the first reported instances of bait-fishing in the Green Heron (Lovell 1958) the bird used bread thrown by people to attract fish to the surface and even chased American Coots (Fulica americana) away from its bait.   

*Many herons have been reported to use bait such as the Black-crowned Night Heron (Nycticorax nycticorax), the Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) and the Great Egret (Ardea alba), but other birds are also reported bait-fishers, such as the Pied Kingfisher (Ceryle rudis) and the Black Kite (Milvus migrans). Check out this article for more fascinating details: Davis and Zickefoose 1998 (Bait-fishing by Birds: A Fascinating Example of Tool Use | Searchable Ornithological Research Archive (unm.edu))

This photo of the Green Heron shows it off in a more “typical” Heron pose, demonstrating how long its neck is.

The individual that I watched wading through the shallows was not using any bait-fishing techniques, but rather seemed to be doing the more commonly observed stalk-and-stab technique of herons the world over. After roaming across the patch of water directly across from me, it took to the air and flew a short distance to begin combing a new area of wetland for food. What a beautiful, amazing bird.

References:

Davis Jr., W. E. and J. A. Kushlan (2020). Green Heron (Butorides virescens), version 1.0. In Birds of the World (A. F. Poole and F. B. Gill, Editors). Cornell Lab of Ornithology, Ithaca, NY, USA. https://doi.org/10.2173/bow.grnher.01

Wiley, James. 2001. Green Heron (Butorides virescens) predation at Village Weaver (Ploceus cucullatus) nests. Journal of Society of Caribbean Ornithology Vol 14 No. 3 pp 130-133. (https://jco.birdscaribbean.org/index.php/jco/article/view/571/475)

Lovell, Harvey B. 1958. Baiting of Fish by a Green Heron. The Wilson Bulletin Vol. 70, No. 3 (Sep., 1958), pp. 280-281 

Davis, William E. and Zickefoose, Julie., 1998. Bait-Fishing by Birds: A Fascinating Example of Tool Use. Bird Observer Vol. 26 No. 3, pp 139-143.

For previous posts focused on birds or Long Point, see:

–Return of the Ravens

–Canada Jay (Perisoreus canadensis)

–The Wonders of Wrens

–A Visit to Big Creek, Part 1 and Part 2

–Pinery Birds, Winter 2019