Visitor

Any snacks around here?

Evening Egrets

     The sight of a snow white egret sweeping in a wide arc over the pond to its evening roost is our nightly reminder to slow down, ease out of the day’s cares and shift to another gear. We are fortunate to have once more found our pond to be a refuge for these lovely creatures who somehow know just when to head for their peaceful place to spend the night. The first arrival always wins an exclamation from the humans onshore. Within minutes the now-regular group of five has assembled, posted about the trees together on the east side of the water. They are gone before sunrise.

   
  About an hour after sunrise today, the third full day of summer, the trees were -- as indicated above -- absent their white ornaments when suddenly our resident grackles rushed together in a small cloud to drive off an a large osprey which had tried to perch above the pond. 
Persistent, the big predator flew low and across, first to one spot then another, trying to settle on a branch.  But with half a dozen blackbirds buzzing it like fighter jets, the realization came that this would not be a stopping place today. The fish catcher quickly sailed out of view toward the river.

                                      ~~~~~~

     A couple of weeks ago we exclaimed as a mother Mallard appeared with a flock of babies. Sadly, they are no more. Within two days the mama duck and two of the chicks were missing and the rest were noisily racing around the lake in a little group searching for her. What happened is an absolute mystery, although the snapping turtle is a suspect. The next day, our errant merganser female – who should be far north with her brethren now – found herself chased by three little mallards clearly hoping for a new mother. She jumped up and ran across the water away from them several times before they gave up and began circling again in search of their mother. Within two more days, they too were gone; a grim reminder of nature’s way.

     The summer pattern is in place otherwise. Robins shuttle about on the lawn listening for creatures to grab from below the grass. Gulls, cormorants and Canada Geese soar above, accompanied at evening by swallows which swoop low across the water. Goldfinches are twittering around the neighborhood, joining the regular chorus of mourning doves, grackles, occasional blue jays, woodpeckers, catbirds, various sparrows and – among other singers -- the evening peepers, little tree frogs who punctuate each night now that the truly warm weather is at hand. 

     So far, no fireflies in our neighborhood but we are watching to see if a few won’t yet materialize with their telegraph lights blipping here and there. I have learned there are three common species with lighting up patterns which allow you to discern each one. More on that when and if they show up.

                                                                             ## 

Yellow Dust and Puffballs

A jet-black laptop is just the place to record allergy season. Left for a few minutes on the deck, it developed a thin film of yellow dust, which seems to be accreting as I type. Something tells me this news would instantly clog the sinuses of the engineers who designed the beast.

While some humans, including your LI bird blogger, suffer inordinately from the annual floral rush to fertilize the countryside, the birds seem quite unaffected. A brightly capped Red-bellied Woodpecker attracted my attention moments ago with a gentle tip-tapping about 15 feet from me, perched on the trunk of a stately elm. It hammered away and cocked its head here and there to peer into the holes it drilled. Not once did it sneeze.

Earlier, a young heron (Black-crowned) was gingerly stepping up the 40-degree incline of a branch protruding from the pond, working its way around a fat Red Slider turtle which emerged for a morning sunbath on an adjacent log. They couldn't have picked a better day to be out and about - a cool dry northern front has ushered out to sea days of hot humid weather, bringing bright skies to light a verdant landscape that our wet spring has created. The heron made a few stabs at fish, but seems to need a bit more practice judging from his empty beak in three tries.

As May came to an end, we had a visit from a young merganser female which showed up around the 27th -- almost a month after the last of its ilk, which visit over the winter, had departed. It paddled around for three days looking quite lonely, before disappearing, hopefully northward.

A great photographer wrote some years ago that edges are the where one can most quickly see and record drama; seacoasts, skylines, meadows against forests, day and night,etc. So it is in the seasons as we pass from spring to summer. The pattern of settled critters and an end to most migrant travel is upon us. But while the obvious drama may be less available, there will still be moments of wonder. Thus the birder keeps watch. As another great photographer once pointed out, the secret of making a great picture is "F8 and be there."

Karma! Just now mama Mallard has appeared with her new brood. Moving quickly across the pond from a spot I had suspected she was nesting, she is followed by a tightly packed squadron of puffballs, light brown in the morning light, with flecks of gold and black adorning them. Tethered by invisible bonds, the group stays close as they peck at tasty morsels in the yellow film which now is evident across much of the pond. Not a runny nose in the lot.

And, with good luck, they will avoid the attention of a large Snapping Turtle which I recently spotted  lurking in the creek at dawn. The great Mandala rolls on.
                                            ##

MyBirdSpot: Blog admin posting

MyBirdSpot: Blog admin posting: "Technorati verification code filing S8NVNGJFFSXE"

Blog admin posting

Technorati verification code filing
S8NVNGJFFSXE

Local Vocalizations

    What may be the last of the Cackling Geese were overhead this morning. Bird books say the migration of these long-distance travelers drops sharply in early May. Their journeys between the high Arctic and the Tex-Mex border make them a special aerial treat twice a year here on the Atlantic Flyway; once in awhile we spot some on the barrier islands nearby for a feeding stop.

I heard a few off to the west early today, but yesterday was the big score. There were four flocks of 20 to 40 birds travelling together SSW to NNE directly overhead when I stepped out around 0630 to check on alewife activity in the creek. I scrambled around the house to get a better look and watch them off to the horizon. A gorgeous sight and the sound of scores of birds cackling high in the air was the voice of nature herself. A great start to the day … with a long finish, like a fine chardonnay.

 We have had some other visitors in the air of late. The Laughing Gull, another avian vocal artist, is not unusual for Long Island waters, but I rarely see more than a few per season over our property; They have other favored places nearby. But this year, starting about 10 days ago, great numbers are moving back and forth along the Carll’s River. Maybe this year’s alewife run, which appears to be very strong, has lured them into waterways not usually frequented.

While this blog is devoted to birdlife, I can’t leave mention of the alewife without some background. I monitor the annual spring run as part of a survey run by the Seatuck Environmental Association and the South Shore Estuary Reserve, among others. Properly called River Herring, the Alewife is a major food source for many birds such as herons and egrets, but an even more important one for the big fish along the coast.

We are building the database on their presence here on LI, where most breeding creeks and rivers have been blocked by dams for a century or much more. I am happy to say my sightings in the past couple of years are the first official recordings of a remnant population that is coming into the lower reaches of the Carll’s River – LI’s third longest – in many decades. They are stopped not far from here by a big dam, upon which -- with the help of our data – we expect to see a fish ladder installed in the future.

The fish manage to produce their own sound signature in the deep of night, about an hour or two before the first birds start calling around 0400. They like to come into the estuaries under cover of darkness, which provides protection from predators. From my bedroom window I hear the fish in the creek nearby, splashing vigorously as they go through their mating ritual, which I am told will result in thousands of small fry with a couple of weeks. They will do a lot more of that once we can allow them past the dam into the miles of river upstream.

Gray Catbirds were gone from our property from late October until just a week or so ago. They are back in force, setting up shop as they do each year in shrubbery near the creek mouth. Strong vocalizers, Catbirds, while not carrying as wide a repertoire as their Mockingbird cousins, have a rich and varied set of songs. They imitate other birds in addition to the meow-like call which gives them their name. Interestingly they can be both secretive and bold. When on the hunt for food they will come within feet of people, but most of the time they are hidden in the greenery even when belting out their morning songs.

                                                                                          ##

  

Blooms and birdhouses

A Colorful Spring (with swanlings)

    A handsome Black-crowned Night Heron is poised on a small log protruding from the water on the east side of our pond, on the lookout for a late breakfast. Not far away, a turtle has hauled out for a bit of morning sun. At the foot of the bulkhead where our lawn ends, two bass have set up nests and are patrolling constantly, quickly backing into cover when I approach too closely but on the alert at all times.

We may have Green herons again this year. I heard a call late yesterday that sounded familiar, but no sightings as yet. A Baltimore oriole has decided this is part of his turf, calling loudly and prowling the fruit trees on the west side of our creek, as well as posting to various other trees around the house. The male is aptly described in one bird book as “smoldering like a fire in the treetops,” as it sports a bright orange body with a black hood. At close range it is quite breath-taking.

Half of a small shell – Robin’s egg blue – lay in the grass as I worked the garden the other day. It is birthing time already. Both geese and swans are shepherding fluffy young on the local waterways. Here is a view of a large family which visited our waters. 

 There is more on You Tube (see link below). Watch for a comical moment at 1:23 when one little fellow tries desperately to get underwater creating a fountain of spray.

A cousin in color, the Rufous-sided Towhee was in the neighborhood 10 days ago, but I think has since moved on. Its color was quite bright, almost that of the Halloween-styled Oriole, but not quite as radiant. 

Other colorful birds now at hand are Goldfinches, with the males sporting a bright yellow after wearing drab gray through the winter. Unlike other birds, they can hang upside down quite handily and do so at the thistle-loaded feeder outside my window, making for an amusing display and likely raising jealousy among other feathered visitors. The ruby-hued House Finch is a now around, too, but for reasons known only to finches, cannot eat while hanging upside down. I empathize.

A pair of Long-tailed grackles has taken command of its nesting area, which they clearly regard as all air space within 50 yards. They sport a dashing iridescent navy blue hood against jet-black flanks – very striking in bright sun. These are bold creatures who don’t hesitate to buzz any intruder to their space, even the large Osprey which has chosen a high tree on our pond to rest almost daily. They will fly at it as soon as it appears, but have generally failed to dissuade the big fish hawk from perching at leisure.

                                                                           ##

 Swan family video

Brilliant Moments

At the instant I looked out the window late yesterday morning a dark shape hurtled into view directly in front of me. Flying at a steep slant from the sky, the black oblong bundle crashed into the surface of the pond. Splashing water and a pair of wings exploded from the spot and an Osprey appeared. Struggling for a second, it rose into the air, a small fish clutched in its steely grip. Off it flew to the west; three, maybe four strong wing beats a few feet above the water and it was gone.

Such is good fortune – in its rare occurrences -- for the birdwatcher. It came a second time an hour or so later as I rode my bicycle through Hecksher State Park woods. I came into an open marsh area just as a falcon cleared the top of a wall of phragmites, our common coastal reed. The Merlin powered upward, fast and agile, first dodging left, then right directly above me, moving – as it does – very fast. Gone even quicker than the Osprey.

A couple of brilliant moments in one of the few sunny days we have had this spring. A nice example of how our brain works; concentrating perception in instants that are new and startling, as opposed to thinking time passes rapidly in our daily routines. It is a result, neuroscientists say, of our mind wandering in other realms when the reality around us is common, a not so attractive trait as one notes the days ahead are shorter than those gone by.

There was another of these just a week ago when we hiked the Audubon Corkscrew Swamp in south Florida. I had stepped from the car announcing that this was to be the day for a Pileated Woodpecker – the biggest American woodpecker and one I had only seen twice in my life. Sure enough, halfway through our walk, we heard the unmistakable hammering of the big red-head, the inspiration for the famous “Woody the Woodpecker.” On we trekked along a boardwalk, hearing the sound afar in different directions. A volunteer Audubon guide said they were everywhere just now.

We were rewarded about a mile and a half along the trail when we heard a pounding close by. Searching the trees, moving from one vantage to another, there it suddenly was. Earnestly drilling out a cavity on the underside of a dead tree branch about 40 feet above us, it showed no concern for the observers below, giving us plenty of time to soak up the bird’s magnificence. At 18 inches with a 29-inch wingspan and sporting a fiery red head, it is quite impressive.

Back on Long Island, the local cast of avian characters is filling out for summer. A couple of Swallows were in the air yesterday – the first of the season that I have spotted. Steady patrols by Long-tailed Grackles indicate a pair has found a nesting site nearby, along with a fat Robin, a pair of Cardinals and a single set of Mallards, the male of which drives off all other ducks nowadays, making the pond less raucous than it was a couple of months ago. His partner is strolling the lawns each day, clearing searching out the right spot to build her nest. A few years back it was directly next to our back door. Once we saw her, we stopped using that entrance for a month or so as she brought her brood to life.

Meanwhile, the handsome egrets that graced our evening views have abandoned us. Since our return from Florida four days ago there has been only one brief visitor. There must be a quieter spot somewhere down the line. We do not abandon hope, however, keeping watch each sundown.

On a small pond a couple of miles east, where hundreds of Scaup gathered through the deep winter, a handful still remained yesterday. The cold and wet weather of this spring is likely to have confused them as they should be well north by now.

                                                                                          ##

Visitors Are Multiplying

 Less than 100 yards away, seven Great White Egrets and a Black-crowned Night Heron are settling in for the night just before 7 pm. This is the highest number of the season, indicating they are pretty comfortable here – high out over the water in a quiet area with no major predators or free-running dogs to upset their slumbers. How additional birds find their way to a spot picked first by a few is a mystery, but a welcome one; they bring tranquility to life.

New arrivals as the season unfolds include a Brown Creeper, spotted today. One bird book calls the bird
so cryptic it is a birder’s challenge. Blending perfectly with tree bark, when startled it will flatten in a way that makes them all but invisible. Uninhibited today, however, it exhibited the trademark creep up a tree trunk, spiraling around in search of insects. Once at a high point, down it floated to have another go up the trunk. I watched this happen three times in a few minutes.

As our daffodils came to full display, a cowbird made its first visit of the season, feeding alongside a mature and a first-year Redwing Blackbird this afternoon. In the pines by the creek, Kinglets picked their way through the cones looking for leftover seeds. They seem to have replaced the winter chickadees that we assume are now entertaining to the north.  

                                                                                          ##

Seasonal Visitors Multiply

      Black-crowned night herons have arrived, with a couple coming close to the house to rest for awhile. First there was only one, then two days later, a pair. At dawn on the morning of April 5, there were four on a snag projecting over the water, while above and to the left of them three Great White Egrets were arrayed a few feet from one another, remaining from an overnight roost. Our little nature preserve is waking from a long winter.

Another new arrival was a Yellow-shafted Flicker hunting the edge of a neighbor’s rock for ants or their allies. On a walk at Belmont Park a few miles  north of here, the cry of an osprey – the first I have seen this year – caught my attention and it flew right over me with a fine fish clutched firmly below it; most likely a trout recently stocked by the state Department of Environmental Conservation. I approve that tax expenditure.

Also at Belmont, two American Coots were diving for their lunch off the lee of a small island, another new season sighting. Not far from them half a dozen crows perched and another group streaked over the lake heading in their direction. Some crows stay the winter, but numbers are higher now than a few weeks ago as southern cousins come north again.

Regulars abound. As I write, a bright red male Cardinal, one of the noxious Starlings and a handful of aggressive White-throated Sparrows are scouring the feeding area next to me. A Song Sparrow is doing its little shuffle-hop under a bush to unearth seeds that others may have covered up.  A Northern Junco joins the mix – perhaps the last visit, as that species seems to wander off for the summer each year.

Meanwhile, a Robin is prowling for worms at the edge of the pond and a Downy Woodpecker has had a brief snack at the suet cage as has a female Cardinal, who finds it a bit more difficult to hold on. Persistent nonetheless, she returns to perch on top and lean far over to grab at the fat. I suspect she is loading up to help her grow the next generation.

                                                                                          ##  

Egrets In

Our first sighting of a Great White Egret was four or five nights ago when a lone male sailed in and stopped in a tree where the great birds have roosted for the past many seasons. It was gone after about 10 minutes. Two nights later, it was back, spending the night. 

Last night (the 26th) two males resplendent in breeding plumage settled in just about sunset and were here at sunrise. One departed early, but the second moved to a location in shallow water and spent about two hours there. It looks like the season is on – in the recent past, one or two have shown up around March 23, with one flying by on Mar 13, but none coming to roost until early April.

So far no herons which are usually starting to appear around the same date as the Egrets, but Osprey have been spotted on the Long Island already, so the seasonal predators seem to be making their way in. Grackles are showing up along with red-wing blackbirds and plenty of robins.

Not far from here, at a pond in West Islip next to Montauk Highway which is regularly used by overwintering wildfowl, close to 400 Scaup are encamped as of yesterday. Likely a flock that settled in while headed north from offshore rafting grounds they frequent in winter months. The species will not be around in a few weeks.

The weather is good – clear and bright, but chilly for this time of year. Temps will do well to make it into the low 40s today and we have been experiencing below freezing nights. The woodpile shrinks.

Sprung Spring

The evening of spring 2011, a sign of the summer to come appeared briefly. A Great White Egret swept majestically into view, flew across the open water and alighted in one of the trees that have been roosting spots for egrets over the past dozen years or so. Their numbers dwindled to just four or five last summer, but we are hopeful they will climb again, especially with a visit so early in the year.

Normally the egrets first appear in early May or late April, so the visit this week provides us with a flicker of hope for more stately visitors. The first bird stayed only a few minutes and did not spend the night but the occasion was a delight as the bird’s pure white image brightened a still grey and stark landscape which was threatened with light snowfall overnight.   

A noisy blue jay and a sleek black grackle -- the first of the season -- were on hand within minutes of one another on March 19. As they prowled the feeding area, a Song Sparrow belted out its call from a high bush and a Red-bellied Woodpecker flitted at the edge of the pond. A species that stays on Long Island throughout the winter, the Red-bellied are usually closer to heavy woods rather than suburban areas.

Watching the woodpeckers on the suet and trees is one thing (there is a snowy at the suet cage today), but, the little peckers may be getting endangered here. We just found a series of holes drilled in the siding of the house as well as a whole chunk of cedar shingle chiseled away. A few repairs can be dealt with, but we are now on alert for drumming sounds on our abode and I may have to unholster the slingshot if they are in the wrong place…

Male Goldfinches are starting to show a little yellow; they must be timed to coincide with daffodils, the first of which around here should be blooming in days. At the water’s edge, we tend to run up to two weeks behind blooms in warmer spots in the vicinity. Robins are more in evidence, scouting after a night’s rain for fat earthworms and flicking through the area on a regular basis now.

Elsewhere in the area, the river herrings I track each year, aka alewives, have appeared early. Sightings in three area freshwater streams well ahead of the usual early April arrival indicates a healthy population, which is getting a lot of support lately. A new fish ladder was installed for them last week a few miles from Babylon and there is word that one is scheduled for us, just a couple of hundred yards from here. Restoring their access to upriver breeding grounds promises much improved health for the entire ecosystem along the coast. Alewives are a prime feed for seals, whales and a variety of big fish, from Striped Bass and Bluefish to Cod and Tuna.

A few mergansers and scaup remain in area ponds, but they will soon be headed north. There's movement in the air.

Crocus Time!

Two clumps of crocus heads are up in a warm spot by the pond. Their appearance coincides with a brief morning visit by two pairs of Northern Shovelers, probably headed home for the summer. Walking at Belmont State Park, I spotted a pair of Pied Grebes, a pair of Hooded Mergansers and a flock of nearly 60 Ruddy Ducks – also migrating – along with the usual Mallards and Canada Geese.

A Yellow-bellied Sapsucker was on a Maple and a Sour Gum this week – the first sighting since Christmas. Regulars at the feeding station are a male and female Cardinal, nine Northern Juncos, about half a dozen White–throated Sparrows, a pair of Fox Sparrows, one Song Sparrow and a couple pairs of House Sparrows – all getting a lot more feisty as the seasons start to shift. Visiting the suet cage is a pair of Downy Woodpeckers, harassed now and then by Starlings.

Mallards and Black Ducks remain on the pond and a few goldfinches – not yet displaying breeding colors – are visitors to the nijer feeder. Mourning Doves perch in the trees and ebb and flow each week from two or three to as many as 20.

A sharp-shinned hawk has been making regular forays through the yard, but so far, no feather piles to show recent successes.

In late February a pair of Canada Geese turned up on the pond just after sunrise and only two days after a new fence went up – put there specifically to keep them from nesting. After years of sparring with the buggers, I learned that blocking clear access to the water from a feeding/nesting area such as our lawn is the only way to keep them from taking up residence and making the lawn unusable for the summer. So, with new bulkheading last year, I knew they would start looking for a good spot and a fence would be needed. They must have clear access to water when they molt and when young appear, and they know months ahead of that date that a fence will be a problem. I got it in just in time…always working to deadline.

They have appeared a few times since, but after staring at the fence they leave within minutes of arrival.

Having been quiet since the beginning of the year, morning bird songs are starting up again. A now noisy Cardinal buzzed the lady of the house yesterday morning when she stepped outside – looks like no interloper of any size is to be tolerated.