Migration Station - a birding log

The Big Year Movie and Beginning Birding

2011-09-08T22:53:00.003-04:00

I'm way too exhausted right now after spending all day celebrating my solar return and being on this planet 29 years, or maybe I'm just in a food coma. Anyway, the blog post I was going to write tonight isn't going to happen until tomorrow, because I can't focus. But to clue you in to tomorrow's exciting post, today I did some birthday birding and was rewarded with the best rush of migrants I have ever seen in my two years of birding. It looked like the trees were raining warblers in two main pockets! I even got a birthday life bird, and some birding with one of my absolute most favorite local birders...but more on that tomorrow...

I instead felt like joining in on the birding blog blowup (and on Facebook birding pages) about the trailer that just came out about the upcoming movie The Big Year. It will be a movie about three birding dudes who go on their Big Year, and yes it is based on the book (from what I've read it sounds like 'loosely' might be added in there). I'm excited because I love Jack Black, he's enough to get me to go see almost any movie to begin with. A movie that might be about birding is even better, even though Hollywood has a history of being kind of mean to us. But we'll see...

The discussions seem to be focused on what this movie will do for birding and the birding world. I find the conversations fascinating and the range of predictions fun. My prediction is that it probably won't do too much to birding besides making it a bit more visible to the general public, which is nearly always a good thing. It might get some young impressionable people into birding, and to me this is the most important effect and the most likely. The movie looks like there is a lot of action, and action appeals to youth, and some kids might think, "Hell yes, looking for birds looks exciting!"

There are two concerns with this. For one, based on the trailer, birding isn't nearly as 'exciting' as what happens in said trailer. I have not nearly faceplanted while skiing in an attempt to see a hawk. Birding is exciting in its own special way, however. It is more likely to appeal to the Pokemon crowd rather than the crowd that is into extreme sports and explosions (although, I DO like destruction and explosions myself).

The other concern is the timing of the movie. If it is going to appeal to new birders, it is not coming out during the prime time of year for them to begin. October 14th is the release date, in the heart of fall migration. I've been birding for about two years (or is it three?) and today even I still found fall migrants daunting and the sheer number, difficult to keep up with! Being familiar with the common species seems the best way to know your fall migrants. All of these variables present serious problems for the absolute beginner, and I fear they would turn off a birding newb right from the start. Of course, there could be those people who let the idea marinate in their minds before starting, and they would begin in winter. I've heard a lot of skilled birders say that learning birding in winter would suck or does suck, though I have never asked why, but I don't doubt for most people it would. I began birding in late winter and found the small amount of species and having mostly commons as a base for spring migration that year incredibly handy (and I studied Sibley all winter).

The only thing to do now is to wait and see, and should I run across any new birders, to encourage them and maybe even guide them along so that fall migration doesn't kill their interest dead.

One Ear Open

2011-09-07T00:12:00.001-04:00

Despite having to deal with the annoyance of daily life in larger amounts lately, I've still had my ear tuned to the birds outside. Yesterday on my drive to work I had a nice view of a northern mockingbird flying right across my windshield (nope, didn't hit it), with its attractive white wing patches flashing. It actually made me jump for a second in alarm, but I've been fatigued every day this week so I probably wasn't quite awake.

This early afternoon, while working on my training, I had a black-capped chickadee repeatedly calling "chick-a-dee-dee; chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee" just outside one of the porch windows. My guess is he or she does not like the next door neighbor's outdoor cats any more than I do.

This afternoon while getting stuff out of my car, I heard quite a few strange calls at first. The most distinctive was a fluttering descending trill, which I immediately recognized as the Carolina wren! I couldn't find the little guy, which is not surprising as he was hiding in this enormous, supremely bushy evergreen in the backyard. He eventually started singing loudly, exuberantly. Note that this guy rarely sings "teakettle" but rather something along the lines of a car alarm (not the ones that simply honk). I really should look further into this specie's migration patterns. I know they only recently started staying up here late into the year, possibly not even migrating at all, but it still stumps me because I never used to see or hear them at all.

I've also taken vague note of all the huge American crows all over the roads. They have been snacking on the large amount of roadkill, almost all squirrels and chipmunks. I usually do a double-take to see if I've seen a raven, but usually no such luck. I get a kick out of them merely walking a little bit to the side of the road upon seeing my car from a distance, and then as my car draws near, they pick up a bit of speed and then eventually hop, stopping just outside the white line, waiting for my car to pass. Anyone who thinks a crow is dumb has simply not been paying attention.

So Busy!

2011-09-02T23:37:00.002-04:00

I must admit to seriously slacking on birding this week. It's not a lack of interest thing, the end of August/September always picks up for me, even if I'm no longer in college. While summer is winding down and other people are getting ready for fall, my tempo picks up massively. Outside of training to become a transcriptionist (which I've had a blast with so far), putting things in motion to transfer my other job back up to my county (and working at it), getting Southern Adirondack Audubon all set up on Facebook, and seriously mowing through this fantastic cooking book I found, I simply have been distracted.

A Carolina wren has still been sticking around, although not as frequently singing in the early mornings, at least not so close to the window that he wakes me up. A downy woodpecker only shows up if fresh suet is put outside, and it tends to be gone within 24 hours. Those two black-capped chickadees I watched during Irene are still around, still perching in the ugly dying lilac bush and visiting the seed feeder regularly. Today I was surprised when I walked out to the porch to see a pudgy beady-eyed tufted titmouse perched on it. They are one of my absolute favorite birds of all time, so I was excited, but we also seem to never have them at the feeder! The bird could have been migrating through, or is maybe here to stick around during the colder months. Either way, it is welcome to stay.

I've also taken joy into watching the ring-billed gulls that are always foraging the Saratoga Hannaford parking lot. That store sells a lot of breads in packages without securely closing tops so there are always crumbs for them. Other food items get dropped by kids. One day I watched as one gull wolfed down about twenty pieces of popcorn in only a few minutes. I was jealous. I noticed they will also watch me and come near (but not extremely close) when I'm on break, much to my amusement, but I tend to finish all of my snacks. Today was a bit creepy though, one gull was blatantly tilting its head to stare down at me, and when I walked to the other side of the lamp post it was on, I realized it had changed position so it could stare down at me from a better angle. Just a bit creepy...

Post-Irene Birding

2011-08-29T18:08:00.002-04:00

I wasn't sure what I even expected after Tropical Storm Irene rambling through the area. All of Sunday, upstate NY was pummeled with heavy rains and winds up to 60 mph. It made me think less of a hurricane and more like a late autumn day, especially with how cool it was. The winds did little destruction in my immediate area, but I know people with trees down on their roofs, and Vermont got hit really badly.

This morning I woke up around 5:30 AM, and was displeased to see that it is now still dark out at that time! I recall lying back down on my pillow and snoozing a bit, still managing to make it to the Betar Byway at 6:20 AM, with the sun just coming up. Moments before I got there, I had a sharp-shinned hawk fly over the nearby Hannaford. This wasn't out of the ordinary, I've found an adult and a juvenile at Betar this year.

I immediately noticed a large upsurge in the numbers of eastern wood-pewees right near the parking area! They must be migrating through today, as there is no way the breeding season suddenly caused that rise in numbers. They were flitting about, calling, occasionally calling. The chickadees who like that spot seemed disturbed by their appearance.

There were the usual numbers of black-capped chickadees, northern cardinals, American crows, and cedar waxwings along the Byway. The gray catbirds seemed a little more active than usual but Betar always has a large number of them. The American goldfinch number seemed greatly reduced!

There was a pair of additional belted kingfishers this morning near the beach. There has been a pair near the inlet all summer, and they were there this morning. As I was standing there watching them, to my delight the double-crested cormorant juvenile I've watched for weeks flew right over my head! I was afraid he wouldn't find shelter in the winds and would perish, but they do seem hardy. I had also worried about the great blue heron many fellow Betar walkers have noticed but the bird was hunkered down by a pier way on the north end of the Byway, sheltered by nearby trees and bushes; it was not at all moving and was standing in a position that made me believe it was napping.

By the beach was a little pocket of fall migrants! I was absolutely delighted, and wondered if Irene made them drop in. A really fat flycatcher with an incredibly short tail was bouncing around some low branches, making a sort of 'whit' call repeatedly. I noticed the very thick eyering, and along with the other descriptors, has me thinking this bird was a least. Either way, I was excited to see any Empid. flying around today as it might be one of the last for the year for me. Along with the flycatcher there were a few other tiny birds flitting about in the low bushes! I had a confused-looking red-eyed vireo pop out from the lowest corner. The location had me thinking it was a migrant as well, and I'm a little sad to see them go finally. The first year male American redstart of whom I only really saw the wing and tail was fantastic. He was making a sharp sort of trill-y call note and moving at lightning speed among tiny limbs. And then, a juvenile chestnut-sided warbler popped into plain view, with it's odd lime-green and deep gray shades! I've recently studied them online so I would know them when I saw them, and this one was unmistakable, despite me never having seen a juvenile one before in person! It was almost as great as getting a life bird! Chestnut-sided warblers just don't seem common at Betar at all.

I was sad to leave the migrant pocket behind, but I had to check the rest of the Byway. And it was fairly quiet, with no species out of the ordinary. There were plenty of mallards with one American black duck following them, but the wood ducks seem to have gone. Of woodpeckers, I had a pileated, downy, and red-bellied. I had a yellow-bellied sapsucker there the day before Irene. Tufted titmice were here and there, singing their 'peter' song.

My other favorite experience of this walk was the family of Carolina wrens all purring, trilling, and singing their 'teakettle' song! I've only ever heard one there all summer, so to get three on one side and one on the other side of the Hudson River was amazing.

Also notable, when I got home around 7:30 AM, was that I also had additional Carolina wrens at my house. It sounded as if there were three, two more than my usual one! Their migration pattern is still new to me, so I'm not completely sure if some migrant and some now stay in upstate New York for winter.

So, the impact from Irene wasn't exactly as interesting as I expected, but there is NO way I am going to complain about seeing fall migrants! In years past I seemed to have missed actual pockets of birds moving through, getting only one here and there. This experience was a nice treat after a storm moving through the area.

Hurricane Irene

2011-08-25T21:24:00.002-04:00

I must admit that I won't be birding this weekend for the most part, if at all, all due to Hurricane Irene making her way up the coast. We also had a separate system affecting us today; I intended on going to Betar Byway, but sporadic rainstorms would sneak in as soon as I'd get ready to leave. I watched the chickadees in the huge pine in the neighbor's yard and listened to the blue jays screeching and begging (maybe there are juveniles too), and the white-breasted nuthatch visited briefly. So for now it's just waiting and watching. The storm tracker makes it look like we're getting something between a Cat 1 and a tropical storm this weekend, though I know that those things change frequently.

I'm not completely knowledgeable on how huge weather systems affect migrating birds, but I can imagine that plenty will get blown off course somewhere.

I also forgot to mention that the Carolina wren that has continually been here was extremely loud at 6:40 AM yesterday morning. With the crows soon cawing in, my guess was something was alarming them all. The wren alternated between an alarm clock version of the teakettle song and a loud trilling purr for about ten minutes. When I awoke again around 9 AM, he was quiet.

Southern Adirondack Audubon Facebook Page

2011-08-25T00:08:00.003-04:00

For those of you in upstate New York and into birds, or just into birds in general, you should "Like" the Southern Adirondack Audubon Society Facebook page I just created. It's an idea I've had for some time now, and brought up at a board meeting (why yes, I was on the board) in spring before I suddenly found a cool bird research job and got distracted. It apparently has marinated in the minds of my fellow lovely board members, as the president messaged me about 7 hours ago asking if I may get started on such activity! I didn't have to think twice. It is in a very rudimentary stage for now, as I'm exhausted from training all morning and working this evening and then grocery shopping, but once I communicate with my fellow birders over there in SAASland, things should come together. The Events page is bare as August tends to be our quiet month, although if I remember quickly, we get VERY busy in the fall! There are also many related bird events in the area this autumn from other organizations/non-profits, and then when winter comes we do surveys. So we should have a lot to mention on our Facebook page.

Our (I'm still also a member and like to speak on behalf of SAAS when we do cool stuff) programs are absolutely worth going to. They aren't always directly about birds, but we've had great stories told, including that by Steve Mackey of hiking the Appalachian Trail, and Jackie ( of http://saratogawoodswaters.blogspot.com/ fame) and Sue (who keeps this beautiful blog: http://watrlily.blogspot.com/) talking about wildflower walks, loaded with beautiful photos.

I don't usually talk about SAAS in my blog, but I really should. I love the local Audubon chapter and the people I have met through it are some of the most amazing people I have met in my 29 years. I think the org is understated and not as well-noticed as it should as a local establishment. So I take it upon myself to at least talk about SAAS things in this blog, and to keep that Facebook page updated.

Bog Meadow Brook/Quechee Gorge

2011-08-20T13:17:00.002-04:00

A few days ago I went searching for a different birding spot since I'm so familiar with Betar, I can predict what's going to be there. This is not a bad thing, but it gets quiet over there during early fall migration, and I wanted a place less predictable for myself. And thus, my drive to Saratoga Springs, NY.

I highly recommend Bog Meadow Brook Trail if you're anywhere nearby, at almost any time of the year (though spring = mud, winter = deep snow). The main parking lot is on Route 29/Lake Avenue but I find the first leg of the trail isn't great for birding because you can hear the traffic for quite a ways. There's more parking on the other side, off Meadowbrook Road just before County Rd 67 (take Exit 14 from I-87 and head east on Union Avenue/9P).

Bog Meadow is an old railroad track mostly grown over without rails left; there are some wooden boards perpendicular to the trail, I wouldn't recommend walking on them if they are wet unless you feel like slipping and smacking your head against a nearby tree. The entire trail is almost all varying levels of marsh, save for one section of forest with a lot of understory growth. One section includes a boardwalk over an open wet area, and further along you come across an even larger wet area - great for spotting marsh-loving herons and the occasional egret or, as we had in spring migration, a northern shoveler, first spotted by yours truly.

My latest walk along this trail was really productive. There were plenty of fledglings all down the trail of various species, and a nest that included two American robins nearly ready to fledge themselves! And fall migration is apparently hitting this spot already. Solitary sandpipers do not breed in this area as far as I know, and I first became acquainted with the species in the spring at the yellowthroat research site just north of Skidmore College. A pair stayed for a week or two there, before finishing off their migration north. I ran across yet another pair at Bog Meadow two days ago at the boardwalk marsh, one standing guard on a rock, the other slightly bobbing it's head while foraging as if it had a mild case of hiccups. If I had not been sure of their ID based on either field markings, I eventually saw the characteristic white spotting on their upperparts and clean white breast and flanks. These guys were my best spotting of the day/week!

There were multiple great blue herons along the trail in the wet spots, lazily walking about at the boardwalk marsh. One heron found himself in a more dangerous spot in the larger wet area along with an obviously spooked green heron trying to hide along the shore I was walking along. Both birds would try to find a hiding spot, and then be forced to alight for a few minutes, grazing the water with their feet while trying to stay out of a red-tailed hawk's way. The hawk would be invisible somewhere along the tree line but call consistently before swooping down over the water and back up again. I also had a red-tailed hawk calling near the forest, and it had flown down so low over my head that my reflex was to duck. The herons also might have been freaked out over the presence of an osprey, of which I had never seen at Bog Meadow in the past! A belted kingfisher was consistently flying about over the water and calling in alarm.

Another species I had never seen at Bog Meadow in the past and saw two days ago was a yellow-bellied sapsucker. Even more amazing, this one was a juvenile, complete with a gray head with two broad white stripes - if you look in the Crossley Guide, you can check this out. The only way I knew the species was by looking at it's back, wing, and tail black-and-white pattern. Bog Meadow is rife with other woodpecker species. This time I heard a red-bellied woodpecker and downy woodpecker.

The most irritating observation for birders this time of year at Bog Meadow is the load of flycatchers, mostly Empids, and therefore nearly unidentifiable as they are quiet due to the end of the breeding season. I had quite a few. One was likely a yellow-bellied based on the shape of it's eye-ring. I also had other flycatchers, including a juvenile great crested and a bunch of eastern wood-pewees, the latter of which still sang.

The sparrows are mostly gone now, although I had a late swamp sparrow singing.

Bog Meadow was predictably caked with cedar waxwings and American goldfinches as Bog Meadow is full of berry-producing plants and trees for the waxwings, and the goldfinches had recently been breeding. American redstarts and yellow warblers are still around in tiny numbers, as are warbling vireos and red-eyed vireos.

I heard raspy chipping along a wet part of the trail and had a laugh, as it was obvious to me what I was hearing - a common yellowthroat. I am glad they are still around. This little guy popped right up into clear view for a few moments before flying off. I can certainly say I will miss them when they finally all migrate.

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Yesterday I headed out to finally explore Queechee Gorge, located in Central/Western Vermont. It was worth going, although the birding there is not great. I had a yellowthroat there, a redstart, a yellow warbler, and my favorite sighting of yesterday, predictably a spotted sandpiper right at the base of the dam, foraging around the rocks. This was the first time I got a great view of a spotted sandpiper, and the way they bob their entire body really makes it an easy ID.

If you head out to Quechee for anything, visit VINS. It's not my favorite nature center, but they do have live birds of prey and you can walk there from the gorge. The surrounding shops otherwise don't have a lot of bird-related items, though the Quechee Visitor Center alerted me to the Connecticut River Birding Trail, which I did not even know existed!

Rainy Days

2011-08-16T11:07:00.003-04:00

It has been raining nonstop for two days now, and this is not a complaint. We had some extremely hot summery days last month and I'm grateful to not be sweating out of every pore. The problem is the birding...I just lose my desire to wander the trails for birds in the rain, even after spending some days this summer in total downpours and even a thunderstorm looking for yellowthroats.

I did manage to get out with J. earlier this week and we had an absolute blast. Birding alone is great fun, birding with a great fun is the best. We spent the hours joking - corny jokes and dark humor are our favorites. We weren't even seriously birding, just driving down Towpath Road (there are many Towpath Roads around here, if you need directions to this one, leave a comment!) at maybe 10 mph peering out the windows and chatting. It wasn't too "bird-y" of course, breeding seasons are finishing up or done. My favorite sightings for the evening were a pudgy fledgling American robin in the road and a green heron perched in a tree - my first green heron through my new binoculars, and I got amazing views! The robin cracked me up as he had two tufts just above his or her eyes, so just looked silly. I was concerned with the bird being on the road but it bounced off into the grass nearby.

Also notable was the great blue heron wading in the creek that runs along Towpath Road. This is not at all an unusual sight here, but they are always welcome during a birding trip. There were plenty of American goldfinches all along the road and pockets of black-capped chickadees, but otherwise it was mostly quiet. We left Towpath and drove along a bunch of quiet country roads which was relaxing but didn't offer much. My excitement came when we stopped alongside a brushy area and I heard faint raspy chips - a common yellowthroat! We could see the bushes shaking wherever the bird was moving along, but it never popped up into view for an entire ten minutes.

Speaking of yellowthroats (oh how I miss them now that I've worked with them), a male was my first bird on a short walk at Ash Drive by Glen Lake late last week. Again, I was alerted to his presence by the raspy chips, much to my delight, but I couldn't find him on the other side of a thick bush. He sang, and then gave a flight song, but had apparently stayed out of view the entire time. A few friends thought I would be sick of those guys once I finished the field job, but I just feel a deeper connection with yellowthroats now that I've watched nearly 30 of them do what yellowthroats do all summer. The chip notes are so familiar to me that it reminds me of not needing to look at a friend to know who it is when he or she speaks.

I'm likely headed out for the first time on Saturday to Rutland Audubon's monthly walk - I have met a few people from there and they are extremely nice and the marsh is one of my favorite spots. Makes me wish the week was over already!

I've also woken up to a Carolina wren every single morning (between 6:30 and 9:00) for a month now since I've been back to the HF house. HF house is in a run-down suburban location, so it's not a great place for birding at all. The most we get are chimney swifts (which I adore), black-capped chickadees, a northern cardinal pair, a pair of downy woodpeckers and their one or two fledglings, tons of house sparrows, and sometimes a white-breasted nuthatch. The Carolina wren is a treat, and there never used to be one here. I'm not even sure this one will stay for the winter, but last winter I noticed one in the dead of winter up the hill from here! When I first came back in mid-July, the Carolina wren just sang his car alarm song. In the past week I've noticed he's now singing variations of that song and also making the purring trill call they are known for. Why the change in song, I'm not sure, although I assume it is the same individual. I've even caught him singing on the other side of the house around 7 PM. While I would love him to stick around all winter, I would understand if he left until spring!

August Doldrums

2011-08-06T11:57:00.002-04:00

This title just had to go with the last one!

It's now August, and birders in the Northeast, you know what that means...the bird world becomes awfully quiet. It's far past spring migration, it's pre-fall migration, and it's right after the breeding season for most songbirds. I do most of my birding by ear so for me it's very noticeable when the birds have simply stopped singing for mates and territories so much. And it has begun. Even the non-birders at Betar Byway have noticed.

This quiet and reduction in numbers of sightings (which was also mentioned on Hudson-Mohawk Birds' Yahoo Group) combined with the intense August heat and humidity tends to decrease my birding for the month, and I'm guessing it does for a lot of birders. Heck, even J. has been focusing a lot more on astronomy and Southern Adirondack Audubon doesn't even have an August program. I don't quite have another hobby to be so obsessive about, so I've gone back to reading about food, particularly how to prepare various types of food items. I've also gotten into couponing, being frugal, and simple living. And well, there's that job hunt...I'm currently impatiently awaiting a reply back, and yet it is only early Saturday.

So what WAS at Betar today? Well, I guess I missed retired DEC guy. Wood Duck guy was there today, and he showed me great photos from a nightcam of some moose and deer and a bear in his yard. The juvenile double-crested cormorant who I've seen there repeatedly like a trusty old friend was nowhere to be seen. And the juvenile cooper's hawk I enjoyed watching flying around the beach area while escaping some crows was not there. But the place is now loaded with American goldfinches! It is their breeding time, and Betar does have thistle. Cedar waxwings are everywhere there since all the berrying plants are ripe and one can never get enough views of those guys. There's been in increase in black-capped chickadees there and I'm not sure why, unless the increase is due to all the fledglings. American robins are of course all over there now, I saw a nest last week that had nestlings so close to fledgling status. And while I couldn't find the two juvenile still-fuzzy Canada geese that have been there on the edge of the river, I did catch a view of 17 adults swimming in the middle of the river.

There have also reliably been some barn swallows where I used to see tree swallows (and the tree swallows have been absent). I've had a blast peering at their extremely forked tails with my new bins. There's a great blue heron that has been lingering, even non-birders ask me about the bird. Today the heron was hiding way off past the beach, along the shoreline. I later spooked the heron from the tiny pool of water when you first enter Betar if you park near the beach parking. Woodpeckers are everywhere here, I tend to get plenty of downies, a flicker, a red-bellied, and a pileated. Yellow warblers are still around in very low numbers, as are Baltimore orioles...the American redstarts are gone. The Carolina wren I've heard since early May is still in the same spot, singing loudly (and I was woken by one this morning). I'm still getting plenty of catbirds mewing and scolding me. Song sparrows are aplenty, and be careful if you think you're hearing a towhee - I followed a towhee song one day only to find it was coming out of the head of a song sparrow, much to my confusion.

Sneak around the inlet and you're likely to find one or two juvenile wood ducks and maybe the adult female. Kingfishers and kingbirds are still around that spot, as are eastern phoebes.

The vireos are petering out too, I only had two red-eyes and two warblings.

So while birds are wrapping up their summers, I really wish the weather would wrap it up too!

Post-Research Blues

2011-08-02T19:55:00.000-04:00

I've finished the summer research on the social structure of a common yellowthroat population. I've been having a conundrum - Southern Adirondack Audubon I'm sure would love me to do a write-up for their newsletter, so do I talk about the research in here too? Or do I wait?

The universe has administered beatings ever since that finished - I came down with Lyme Disease 2.0, the antibiotics have constantly made me nauseated, I cannot find a full-time job (but I do now have 2 part-time retail ones, meh) and instead of going to do more research I desire to try to pay off one of my student loans instead. And, well, things aren't working out with that due to the job misery! GAH.

I've snuck some birding in lately though. I'm back regularly at the Betar Byway, and have made a new friend out of a retired DEC guy who has begun frequently walking there too. He's super cool, and I hope he can make it to the Audubon walks on Fridays at Betar, as he wants to go. I also met a really neat fisherman from Arizona there. Betar is, of course, bird-y as ever, and if you live in this area and haven't been, well, get your butt over there. My current favorite is the juvenile Double-crested Cormorant who apparently is in love with that part of the Hudson River. The perfect sighting of a juvenile Cooper's Hawk being mobbed by crows was also amazing, watching the hawk wheel and dart through the trees. A fledgling yellowthroat made it's way over there one day, causing me to seriously miss research.

I also bought binoculars - REAL BIRDING binoculars, finally, after two years! I will not discuss was I was using before. Too embarrassing. This trip was also somewhat embarrassing, as I obtained a speeding ticket driving back from the first shop I went to.. I also will not mention what shop that was, but it was terrible. The owner has become a bitter man, and has a collection of only one very terrible brand. So I drove back up to Wild Birds Unlimited in Wilton, NY and tried out 4 pairs of binoculars. This might not sound like enough to you, but I had been there in May and tried out a lot more. It didn't take long this time for me to want to refuse to give back a pair of 8x42 Eagle Ranger ED bins. These things are amazing. I nearly fell over the first time I looked at an actual bird through them. I have a really hard time putting them down at all!

Yesterday I finally summited Buck Mountain (2330 ft, 6.6 mile trail)! I've tried this before, but the trail is rather brutal - steep, rocky, with some wet crossings, and no good views until the very summit. I regretted not bringing my binoculars yesterday, I could have received great views of hermit thrushes, of which the woods were loaded with, surpassed only by a surplus of red-eyed vireos who sang all the way up until near the top. The habitat near the summit changed to stands of red pine mixed with hemlock, and other stands of striped maple - this was loaded with woodpeckers, including hairy, pileated, and what sounded like yellow-bellied sapsuckers. The summit itself was chock-full of blueberries and huckleberries all ripe and so there were purple finches and cedar waxwings, and I wasn't surprised to be visited by a few dark-eyed juncos: I always find them on mountaintops here in the summer. A lone common raven called loudly near the summit, unseen.

West Rutland Marsh, VT

2011-06-20T20:28:00.003-04:00

If you're ever passing through western Vermont and head anywhere remotely near Rutland, definitely stop by the West Rutland Marsh. It's not far to the west of downtown Rutland (and to the east of Castleton State), right off of Route 4A; though, if your car cannot handle a really bumpy road covered in gravel, it might be best to avoid Marble Street and Whipple Hollow Road, which both run along the marsh.

I took J. out with me early in the morning yesterday as we have a few times in the past. Usually it's very quiet there, but this time we ran across an older woman, apparently a local birder. We exchanged a bit of information on birds seen there before she took off. J. and I then slowly wandered down the boardwalk that juts right into the middle of what is mostly phragmites and cattails. Even midsummer, the marsh is inundated with swallows. There is a bird box right at the entrance to the boardwalk, and the tree swallows obviously had a nest inside. Plenty of barn swallows and a few northern rough-winged were also tumbling overhead. Later on, while not a swallow, a chimney swift, probably from downtown West Rutland, came along for a visit.

Two willow flycatchers had also chosen the marsh as their nesting site this season and we got great views of them even though they are extremely nondescript birds. I think we enjoyed listening to them singing a bit more; the ones at this site seem to say, "RITZ-bew" rather than the softer "FITZ-bew" I hear around farmlands in NY. An eastern kingbird pair took up a bush at the end of the boardwalk for their nesting location and weren't too shy even when we got close.

The vegetation at this point has grown quite high, providing great cover, and not-so-great views of just about anything else we heard yesterday. This to me is not a problem, since I absolutely enjoy birding by ear, though J. and I were a bit eager to see rails. We mostly failed, although he caught sight of a fast-moving sora amongst the reeds. I never got a good view, but the sora performed various calls and songs, from their typical "ko-WEEE-EE-ee-ee-ee" fading whinny to outright screaming. I was disappointed that we couldn't hear any Virginia rail this time. Our least bittern from the spring was nowhere to be seen or heard, though the birder had confirmed it was still around. If there were any ducks or herons nearby, I wouldn't have known, but we did have a great blue heron and a green heron fly overhead. The reeds are also full of marsh wrens and swamp sparrows singing, and of course plenty of red-winged blackbirds. And J. and I got quite a surprise yesterday - a perfect view of a belted kingfisher (male) repeatedly hovering over the marsh and then diving down for fish! J. and I were captivated and watched for probably about twenty minutes. We were interested over him periodically going out of view after diving, and guessed that he might have been bringing fish to young.

The birder had mentioned that the groups that get together for walks there tend to walk the four miles around the marsh. I was skeptical, but J. and I enjoy adventuring and decided to try it out anyway. It was too far in by the time we realized that one side of the marsh was fairly pointless for birding (though it did offer a few ovenbirds, veeries, redstarts, a yellow warbler, and I got a great view of a female common yellowthroat for J.) and that the connecting road was extremely far away. This lead to joking around, random conversations, and munching on apples rather than much birding. The road we were on did eventually lead to open view and we got a view of a few crows mobbing a red-tailed hawk.

The roads do eventually lead back around, and we found where Rutland Audubon had set up an interpretive trail with small markers, most of them mentioning ecological habitat (such as the black ash habitat, which lead to me making immature jokes which cannot be repeated here). At that point it was way too hot in the day for much birding, but I did notice common yellowthroats fairly evenly spaced out, many of the males singing. A female popped out at one point, carrying an insect, likely to her young.

There is also a power line corridor habitat up the hill nearby which was once suggested to us by someone from Rutland Audubon, although I have been unsure as to whether it's actually off-limits. This did not deter J. and I from going up there last time, however, and we found it to be a good place to get warblers. It's also a great place to get scared out of your wits as to the locals visit the site frequently to shoot off their guns! Despite terrifying, I have found them friendly and not at all wary of random birders wandering around. Just...make sure you know which way they are shooting before you go off-trail!

Red-eyed Vireo and the Unexpected

2011-06-16T12:57:00.002-04:00

Sorry for the pause, everyone! I started as a field research assistant in May on a common yellowthroat (cute little warblers) project in Saratoga Springs, NY and am still helping out on that; what a strange experience it has been. I will talk about that in a near-future post.

What I want to talk about today is something I actually witnessed in a common yellowthroat during the project - birds making sounds you just do not expect. Now, my strength in birding lies in recognizing songs and calls. Birds' songs and calls just absolutely fascinate me, and I love learning all of them; even more fun is knowing who is out there in the morning just by listening to them 'talk' to each other. But being still fairly new to the game, I've focused on learning the typical song and then maybe one call, what you would find with most modern birdsong software or reading the 'voice' section in a field guide. So it's been a bit surprising to hear other calls and songs going on out there that might be typical but all the guides and recordings glossed over (like the typical male rattle of a breeding yellowthroat) or maybe even a song or call that the species rarely ever makes.

The past two mornings I've been out trying to watch this extra secretive female yellowthroat and seeing where she's building a new nest (her old one had a predation; mmmm yummy eggs). She has absolutely tested and broken my patience level. At the same time, she's in a great habitat spot for birds in general - it's wet, there's also a field full of tall grass, there's a hidden trail nearby in the woods, and it's seems there might be a field nearby as well. This spot has had yellow-throated vireos, red-eyed vireos, scarlet tanagers, indigo buntings, an abundance of woodpeckers (saw a pair of pileateds today loudly exploring the trees), solitary sandpipers moved through in May just nearby, and a kingfisher has been going back and forth recently. I also had the surprise of hearing a black-billed cuckoo's song ringing through the woods there about a week ago!

Yesterday morning I began hearing this quiet yet persistent call that never seemed to stop and went on for over an hour. It was pleasant to the ear, but it was strange that in all my birding in similar habitats I had simply never heard this before. I've never heard it in recordings, either. It could best be described as sounding like "TSITSI doom," with the TSI notes being distinctly separate but repeated very quickly as half-notes. The "TSI" had a chiming, high-pitched quality, much like you would find in a chickadee or kinglet. The "doom" was interesting - it wasn't really musical, but instead sounded like a mix between a kiss and a soft knock on hollow wood. It was far enough away yesterday that I only heard the phrase and it sounded as if there was a pause between it, but I found out today there wasn't a pause...this bird would 'say' the phrase and then sing the "doom" note at regular intervals with pauses between them, much like this: "TSITSI dooom...dooom...doom...TSITSI dooom..." and so on. It would also sometimes throw in an extra "TSI" before the phrase.

After two hours of trying to find this female yellowthroat she had disappeared for a good long while...I'm convinced yellowthroats have perfected teleportation technology and use it frequently, suddenly re-materializing far away from where you last saw them. While she was gone, curiosity got the better of me, and I lurked to the woods to follow this incessant call. I stood under the only opening in the trees I could find and hoped for the best and pished away. Surprisingly, the bird plopped onto the branch just above my head and called again! I looked up, and saw the white breast and belly, and pale yellow vent and the rather large size, and then it peered over the branch, showing off it's red eye, black eye-stripe, white supercilium, and black bordering the supercilium. I was rather surprised to see a red-eyed vireo peering down at me, though the persistence of this call led me onto a vireo yesterday as a wild guess.

I don't know what to make of it still. I've googled and googled but everything only references the robin-like song and it's "MEEeeer" whining descending call. I have not sat with the Macaulay library yet, but things don't seem promising with the lack of literature from the most knowledgeable birders that have existed.

Migrants Galore - Betar Byway

2011-04-27T13:49:00.002-04:00

With it being sunny and near 80 degrees this morning, I couldn't help but to go outside. In fact, I headed all the way to the Betar Byway in South Glens Falls. I'm here about every three days - ever since March the number of species has been slowly increasing.

Until now. Now they have massively exploded! I am unsure of why I was thinking I wouldn't see anything unusual today, though I haven't paid much attention to the weather forecast either, besides enjoying a day of thunderstorms and some overcast skies and cooler weather. I didn't even keep up with Hudson-Mohawk birds, which would have obviously alerted me to the mass migrant influx - there are many other birders' posts currently discussing what migrants they are seeing nearby.

So imagine my surprise when even from the step out of my car I start hearing migrants that are first-of-season for me. Not even a kid in a candy store could have been that overjoyed. My walk took me twice the time it has been, because I was extremely careful to make sure I got every bird I could today.

Betar Byway is now inundated with yellow-rumped warblers (aka butterbutts, a nickname I recently became amusingly acquainted with). I couldn't be happier - the past two years, I never really got many. Today I couldn't walk anywhere without either seeing a pair hanging out with each other, or an individual eating inchworms. I'm still not entirely familiar with their song, so I had a great time just listening to all of them. They sound like quiet, bored American goldfinches, or maybe a goldfinch with a classier, more refined song, and the trilling quality is of note. I also noticed they sometimes have an end note higher than the rest of the song, though it quickly drops to finish the song out. It is not all that distinct, so keep an ear out for them.

Betar is also loaded with, yes, goldfinches, and cedar waxwings, but those guys have been there. There were also a ton of grackles, which was not surprising (but fun). Also of actual note in enormous numbers now, which IS notable as part of the recent influx, is the tree swallow. I had nearly two dozen of them today!

White-throated sparrows are also now moving through the area in large numbers and this is not just taking place at Betar. It always confuses me to hear the "Oh sweet Canada" song this time of year.

The other notable migrants at Betar today are as follows:
- common yellowthroat - I had one calling (do not confuse with the Carolina wren - wren songs tend to be longer, less distinct, and the 'wit' on the end of the yellowthroat's call distinctly separates it from that of the wren), and badly wanted to go find it, but I was being watched be fellow Byway walkers and the yellowthroat was on private property. Damn.
- yellow warbler - one small male sitting right at eye level, singing loudly.
- red-eyed vireo - only one calling. I had to stick around and listen to make sure I was even hearing a vireo - guess I was just that amazed.
- black-throated green warbler - called right near my car, once, and never again.
- Empidonax flycatcher - of course, it wasn't calling! I watched it glean for a bit and gave up.
- broad-winged hawk - only heard calling. Had I not heard one yesterday in Corinth, I would have thought a silly blue jay was messing with me.
- double-crested cormorant - there was a pair in clear view swimming around the river and where the inlet meets the river. The male even had his crests!
- ruby-crowned kinglets - we had these last weekend at Bog Meadow, so I wasn't as surprised, and I had them last year here for a week. I was still excited, knowing this might be my only chance to see them at Betar this year, because they will likely move on soon. I got a great sighting of one today, with it's white (broken?) eye-ring, gold-dusted wings and uppertail, a white wingbar, general "angry" look...and then it scolded me harshly before hiding in the brush.
- eastern kingbirds - I nearly passed the first one off as a large phoebe, then decided to have a second look and spotted the obvious white tail tip. Duh.
- swamp sparrow - I listened for a LONG time to the trills I heard today. There was at least one at a hidden vernal pool (I know if it's existence mostly due to hearing a massive amount of frogs there last week) with a loud trill a bit more musical than a chipping and blatantly fading at the end.
- chipping sparrow - a few of these with their mechanical trill, unless I'm wrong and there were a few pine warblers hiding where there are no pines.

Also notable, but has been there for a month or so, was a lone pied-billed grebe. I had seen two grebes in a pair earlier in the month, so maybe this one was just out for a dive. I also spotted a flying cooper's or sharp-shinned hawk - assumption would lead me to sharp-shinned, as J. and I had spotted an adult last month, and I had a juvenile sharp-shinned earlier this month. And just because they are fun, I will note the belted kingfisher and brown creeper. There are also so many other species to note there - plenty of woodpeckers, for example. That Byway is absolutely worth going to at any point of the year, any weather, as it is a very bird-riddled spot.

Trip to Binghamton, NY and PA

2011-04-23T10:50:00.003-04:00

Birding this year has been insane. In a fantastic way. I started in March (I really need snowshoes, being indoors all winter drives me nuts) and on my first evening of the season, got a woodcock calling and flying right past my head! The excitement and great sightings has yet to slow down, and I doubt it will, as it's only the very beginning of migration.

So now I get to play catch-up with all this rain and cold weather. This has been extra amusing in a ridiculous way for me - Saturday night the driver's side window on my car broke, and I've been without a window to roll up all week. This did not stop me from transporting my old Dell and some magazines out to my best guy buddy on Sunday and Monday, who lives just across the NY border in Friendsville, PA. The drive was horrendous though. One really has no idea the amount of deafening road noise and intensely cold wind surrounding a car on a highway until there's absolutely no way of getting away from it. I probably looked battered and beaten after my three hour drive.

It didn't stop me from birding while out there, although it was bitterly cold to the point of even sleeting on my trip's second day (I spent it at my old college stomping grounds in Oneonta, NY). Saturday was low-key, as I was more focused on my friend and our eating adventures, and despite him not being a birder, he took interest in what was around him, having me point out the different species we were seeing, which I had a blast with. Binghamton and Vestal, NY of course get a lot of crows and starlings.

His lake-side house in Friendsville, PA was quite a different treat. During the day Saturday we walked around a small portion of the lake (I'm guessing it was the east side, at least by map) despite winds blowing at a fairly consistent 40 mph. Not a lot of birds, but the lake offered up three ring-necked ducks (a male and two females). American robins hung around on the road, and a red-winged blackbird called in the distance. When I later left at 2 AM Monday morning, I got to point out to him an American woodcock that was persistently calling down the road from his house. My friend had then mentioned that he's heard that call many nights for years. I must say I'm a bit envious.

Monday birding in Binghamton was terrible, though I also had a hard time finding any birding spots there. I used ebird to find one nearby urban spot, and my guess is it's fairly good for waterfowl on a day when the Susquehanna River isn't rushing, as I only had a few Canada geese.

Monday afternoon I spent in Oneonta, NY and the birding was surprisingly bad there. It's also off-season for Franklin Mtn's hawk watching and so their feeders were also down. I had also visited Emmon's Pond Bog nearby, and while I love the walk, I was bombarded with sleet the entire visit and thus got very few birds, all common. If you ever get to go out there, please visit the bog, even if the weather includes things like hurricane-force winds, tornadoes, or even lava. That bog is something to see, and even though I had not visited it in three years, it had haunted my mind.

Next blog, which I promise will be soon (within the week, I swear), will be about my birding trip on Saturday to Bog Meadow Brook Trail in Saratoga Springs, NY with Rich Speidel and a bunch of fellow birders. Good times were seriously had by almost all (except that one guy that complained about the cold the whole time).

Young Birders

2011-03-27T00:06:00.003-04:00

For first mention, earlier I did not go birding. Can you believe I'll actually ever admit to that? Downsizing my belongings came first as I begin a new era of my life (starting my CAREER). However, that did not leave me bird-less. My storage unit is hidden away behind a major highway in West Glens Falls, with a small corridor of trees in between. It is seemingly hostile to songbirds, but the corvids were out there while I was re-packing. Four ravens hung around at first, and left a short while later. Some crows came by later. Two were certainly calling as American crows. IMagine my surprise and delight when I third with a higher-pitched voice called out, "uh oh!" four times before leaving! I suspect I was met with a fish crow. It has been mentioned to me that they are randomly, uncommonly spread throughout the area.

This past week deserves it's own entry, which will come soon. I had about 5 days of FANTASTIC birding at the Betar Byway. Certainly get yourselves there if anywhere in the vicinity. And make sure you span that river!

---
The issue currently bothering me is one I have been asked by many older birders as of late. Me being young and into birding makes me a bit of a circus act, which I find mildly irritating. Though, I can't really blame anyone as I myself occasionally notice the lack of youth in ornithological/birding circles that I show up in. But age has often been brought up to the point of distracting me from the real reason I even go to events and walks in the first place - to talk about birds and all issues relating to birds!

So I'm often asked, how do we get more young people like you into birding? I have thought long and hard about this to the point where I'm probably causing brain cells to implode. Environmental education is prominent in my field, and often creates decent jobs for people with my education and background, and this is the question most needing an answer if one is to be a successful educator.

After hours of thinking, pondering, going back over my life, remembering all the psychology articles I've read, this is going to be my answer: I just don't know. That's right, I have no idea. Sorry, older birding folk, I don't have the magical answer. I can't speak for all youth. I know that's horribly disappointing, but there's not much I can do about it. I would prefer you ask youth themselves how they might be more interested. Not that they would even know. And I myself am an outlier. I did not care to be popular in school, and I succeed academically far above most of my peers, and I was much more introverted than most of them. I really wouldn't have a clue how to get "the cool kids" into something likely seen as very "uncool" to their peers. I can bet, unfortunately, that to them birds are still those horribly sewn emblems on a crappy sweatshirt that their grandma wears.

Even worse, I grew up as a gamer. Heavily into gaming, at that. I remember playing videogames for hours after getting out of school (homework first!). I lost track of how many times I beat Tetris and Super Mario Bros. I probably played every first-person shooter made for every Nintendo system before Nintendo 64 was made. This horrifies the pro-outdoors-for-children anti-tech anti-videogames crowd that has become trendy in the past few years. I also like to tell them I would also spend hours watching videos on MTV (videos on MTV?! remember those?). I don't remember hiking as a child or teen, and while I do recall playing on playgrounds periodically, I am not sure I really spent much time outdoors overall. You will not hear me joining this crowd that totally abhors anyone under the age of 30 playing on a computer for even two seconds, nope. Never.

I do have ideas. Youth love technology. They love gaming and the Internet and social media sites. Appeal to them through those, and you're halfway there. But also don't talk to them through those sites like you're a boring grandma, either. Appeal to them with the gross stuff, the cool stuff, the fun stuff. Weird things they can tell their friends about. Make your Facebook pages and your Twitter accounts - abhor these, refuse to use them, and you're already losing the battle. And while you're using technology to appeal to younger people, don't forget that nothing compares to real life experiences. People of all ages love seeing birds up close. Your organization does banding? Invite some kids to check the birds out. Set up programs to have rehabilitators show their birds and talk about them. Put some feeders up and point out the birds to younger people. If you're crafty, look around etsy.com at the cute styles that appeal to youth, and make crafty bird things.

I have less ideas about how to get young people to actually join Audubon chapters and really get involved in the more political side of conservation issues. That's an interest that just came naturally to me. Going green is trendy right now, and I suspect actually getting youth involved in conservation efforts, such as getting school classes involved, might do the trick. I do recall being forced to volunteer for my health class in high school - maybe Audubon chapters can find out of their local schools do this, and offer to let students partake in chapter conservation efforts to fulfill that requirement.

I've also noticed just being young and into birding sparks an interest in even younger peoples' minds. I frequently bird a very busy walkway, and I've become somewhat of a regular in the minds of non-birders. Younger kids, especially younger girls, have excitedly exclaimed, "Look, she's birding!" I'm not sure exactly what appeals to them so much about seeing me with my binoculars, but I'm glad it has an effect.

But most of all, I ask that you stop focusing so much on age. I understand that you may worry that your chapter might not survive at some point because of the older ages of your members. But it is this intense focus on age and the demands on the young that already are motivated and passionate in the birding world that drives us somewhat nuts. I almost feel as though older birders feel as though I owe them an explanation. I don't have one. I simply followed what interested me, with some help along the way. The same pathway I took takes people in all sorts of obsessive, passionate directions. Mine just happened to be birds.

Last Snowstorm of Winter?

2011-03-07T16:52:00.002-05:00

Last night and today the Glens Falls region got pummeled with snow and sleet, complete with wind blowing that stuff sideways! When I left work last night at 10, you could not see to drive and the roads were terribly slippery. I'm not sure how I ever made it.

Today I spent hours shoveling a foot of snow out of the driveway and off my car. I cursed Mother Nature for this, wondering why I wasn't going to be allowed to see many birds for yet another day. And then, as a neighbor was saying something similar, above his head I caught sight of a bird with a large wingspan, showing white and black underneath. I completely ignored the neighbor at that point to realize I was staring at a turkey vulture (first one for me this year!) soaring through the thick snow.

Not long after, while attempting to break through a sheet of ice in front of the house, I suddenly heard a cacophony of calls close by - a large flock of house sparrows had visited bushes in a nearby yard. I guessed they might have been looking for food.

I had to take a phone call after all my shoveling was finished, and found that it was warming, the snow began melting, and the sun came out. I peeked outside near the feeder, and caught sight of a male and female cardinal, dark-eyed juncos, house sparrows, white-breasted nuthatches, and black-capped chickadees making all sorts of calls and looking for the last bit of food that may have been left in that feeder. It was as if they were gathering together to cheer the hopefully last snow of the winter.

Winter Lull

2011-03-06T14:39:00.002-05:00

I had quite the break there, and so did the birds around the house for awhile. But I am back, just as the birdsongs are...for the past three weeks I have woken to sweet songs of the cardinal (now singing the 'purdy purdy' song, which sometimes gets lengthened to 'purdy purdy, pew pew pew pew'), song sparrows (who don't call all winter), and the Carolina wren, which almost always sounds like a car alarm. I am not even sure where the wren had gone to, they stick around all winter but mine had disappeared for about a month. Seems the utterly nasty weather as of late might have made them sparse from an open feeder. The juncos also came back around yesterday to feed, loudly trilling any time I snuck outside but not flying off. Seems they trill just to alert each other but are not afraid.

I've had a pause in my outdoor surveying adventures, but only to begin Operation Environmental Position. In the 3 years since I've graduated college I have amassed enough money to feel comfortable following a more adventurous route and to get into the field I love the most! Working a full-time and a part-time job and doing the full-time job of searching has left me unable to put aside day-lit time as of late. It also doesn't help that there has been a rash of amazing albums in the past few weeks (if at all interested, please check out Sean Rowe: http://www.anti.com/artists/view/81 his music is beautiful and he's a fellow naturalist type!).

Things are also getting exciting bird-wise locally. This year is the first Winter Raptor Fest for Washington County, a two day festival all about the birds that so dearly need human attention in order to keep their populations up, as the habitat they depend on is rapidly diminishing. There will be all sorts of demonstrations of birds, talks, and fun activities (I'm psyched about the sleigh rides). I already got to check out one of these demonstrations a few weeks ago at the Aviation Mall which included great live birds and great people who are helping them. If interested in going, it's next weekend, March 12th and 13th at the Little Theater on the Farm in Fort Edward. I highly suggest it, you won't be disappointed! You'll be supporting the birds I myself have surveyed and watched hunting and perching majestically throughout that habitat.

I'm also happy to say a piece I wrote was recently submitted to the Southern Adirondack Audubon Society's newsletter, The Fledgling. Hooray for me! I'm obviously into science/nature writing, so this was a great opportunity.

Pardon me if this entry was more of a promo piece. There are just great things happening now even in the depths of winter when bird activity is at the lowest. Soon enough the snow will be melted enough and I will be able to post more about what the birds around me are up to. I can hardly wait to hike the local forested mountains, take in a warm breeze, and be surrounded by the calls of many warblers.

Carolina Wren

2011-01-25T21:40:00.002-05:00

I've taken a bit of a break from birding, as temperatures recently dipped to -27*F overnight, and not rising much above zero. That is a bit much for this birder, even despite being hardy enough to accompany J. on three major surveys in recent weekends.

This winter has brought me an ability to answer the confusing question non-birders love to ask: "What is your favorite bird?" I find this an odd question. How can one choose, when one loves all birds? As soon as you choose, the personalities and songs and memories of visual observation of another species often comes back to haunt you.

But there is one whimsical character I cannot seem to ever get enough of. And this is the Carolina wren. I don't know how I never spotted them last winter, as they were in the back of my mind, with memories of my first encounter with one being during summer banding. There are notes back to the early 20th century that show that they were first beginning to invade New England around that time, not more recently. And yet, they seem to be here in droves. I can't walk far without encountering a spot I have seen them (unless in very urban areas or very rural). They seem to enjoy thick brush with bare branches located near water.

Two have planted themselves in the backyard here for the winter, apparently a male and female pair. I spotted them again the other morning. Both were perched on bare stems of a lilac bush, fluffed into tiny balls to protect against the frigid air. They were of rich chestnut brown spotted with lighter hues, and broad, obvious off-white long eyebrows. The apparent male bobbed up and down in Oompa Loompa style, and making a chirping trill. The female, quiet and still, gazed up at him as if to mock him. They finally did not seem to mind my presence; earlier in the winter they would take off at first sight of me. They may have also been unwilling to leave the bit of food they can find during this awfully harsh winter - the post stocked full of their favorite suet right by said bush.

I've also enjoyed their skill at hide-and-seek. They will call from a conspicuous branch, loudly, with their rolling variations of the "tea-kettle" call. Then they will take off, as if to attempt to lure you into their game, and then easily blending right into the background, even if still in plain view, as they are often the same exact brown hue as the trees they hang around. J. and I once spent probably almost 20 minutes attempting to find one in a thick tree with absolutely no luck, despite the bright, clear, obnoxiously loud car alarm songs they're more apt to make during the warmer months. I usually make no effort to find them when birding alone, knowing full well that they are better at the child's game than myself.

Winter - I Lied

2011-01-16T23:56:00.002-05:00

Actually, winter is kind of awful. This is my first winter spent regularly birding, and well, no sir, I don't like it. I love the species we (J. and I) have been getting, species I would not see here in the warm months, but that's about all I love about winter birding. And for those of you reading this from outside my local area, winter here means blustery, bitter cold winds, temperatures hovering around 20 degrees F, and plenty of snow. That can easily mean wet, frostbitten extremities if not careful, hypothermia, and a general feeling that maybe one should be in hibernation. I find the combination of wet hiking boots and socks with extremely painful toes, the biting wind freezing you right to your core, and that wind blowing directly into your face to the point where your eyes water almost as intolerable as having the stomach flu. Not to mention the lighting in winter is horrendous - it's nearly impossible to ID most birds that are even only a few feet from you without a decent-powered scope - hawks far away in binoculars are absolutely laughable.

With that said, I've been blessed with J. having borrowed a scope apparently from Audubon peoples for our Fort Edward IBA surveying adventures. He also has great raptor identifying skills (and other winter bird ID knowledge), which I currently lack. I can bet if all of that wasn't in my winter birding, I wouldn't even be bothering! If you haven't yet been out to the Fort Edward IBA region, I highly recommend it, as long as you have every piece of winter clothing you can find in your nearest sports gear store. There are uncommon birds to be seen out there that you might not find in many other spots, since grassland habitat is disappearing.

I've had great joy in finally seeing snow buntings and horned larks. These are species entirely new to me in person, and seeing them in big foraging flocks makes it even better. Snow buntings are likely the cutest species in the upstate New York region, with their beady little black eyes on white or tan backgrounds, and a blending of mostly white with various brown and blacks on their tiny bodies. Seeing their flock from a distance, you can easily ID them after watching them for only a short time as they have a distinct feeding habit that looks almost as if they are giant fleas - hopping up into the air, fluttering for a moment, to land back down nearby. Upon closer look, you find out that they fly up only to reach nearly the top of a tall blade of a grass, grasp onto the stem, so that their body weight pulls the dried plant down to the ground, where they sit on it and eat the seeds on the top. This feeding task is repeated over and over by nearly every individual in the flock, and is quite entertaining to watch as it seems as though it takes great detailed skill.

Horned larks don't seem as distinct from a distance, and in poor lighting, can apparently be misidentified as a flock of plain brown starlings. Look closer though, and focus on the faces of winter birds. Despite a plain-appearing body, they have stark yellow on their faces and black masks (the black horns are surprisingly not all that noticeable). They hold themselves in what to me seems a slightly alert position. You can find them feeding in a fairly good-sized flock, either on the side of the road, or in piles of snow-less manure.

The raptors just unfortunately don't hold as much interest for me as they do J. I've noticed that you can usually find them perched in all parts of a tree, or in flight at such a distance that you can only ID them using a scope, and even then it can be questionable. I find this utterly frustrating, especially since buteos and accipiters when in flight are mere blends of white and black at different parts of their bodies. We do get the occasional Cooper's or Sharp-shinned hawk (habitat seems to scream Cooper's to me), usually without positive ID of one or the other, as they tend to be perched and hiding their tails. The rest are red-tailed hawks (best sighting this winter was me silently pointing to a terrified-looking juvenile snacking away at a deer carcass only a few feet from the road), northern harriers, and both light and dark phase rough-legged hawks. Owls are noticeably absent, though I guess in years past the IBA has been productive with snowy and short-eared owls.

My favorite winter sighting so far, however, occurred earlier today. I was standing around freezing nearly to death while J. was being much more attentive to surveying. I was convinced that death was imminent. Then my mind decided to drift, and I thought the 'summer song' I was hearing was a figment of my imagination, a wish for the warm months with the hot sun beating down on us, listening to all kinds of insects buzzing in the humid windless atmosphere. I have no idea what brought me out of this dreamland, but I realized I was still hearing that song and went following it, realizing what it likely was. It was a trill somewhere between mechanical and musical, and buzzy. I threw my (sadly broken) binoculars upon it's location, and gasped - the large bird, straw-colored and yellow and black, jumping up into the air and fluttering while singing, over and over, was not a sight one would even expect to see in the dead of a NY winter! A lone male eastern meadowlark, bouncing up and down in a tiny patch of bare dirt by the road, seemingly desperately calling out for one of his own species. I felt rather sad - can it handle the winters here? It is out of it's supposed winter range here. And what was it doing already in breeding plumage? So many questions, with no apparent easy answers. I again felt that death was imminent, but this time not my own.

Winter? Not so Bad

2010-12-29T16:50:00.003-05:00

Birding has been great the past two days (I've had them off, as I'll be working 12 hour shifts the next two). I'm not sure what it is, as days earlier this winter have been less 'productive.' Maybe the birds are now having a harder time finding food with the recent snowfall, as most of the individuals I saw today were very busy foraging (I was not this time around). I have no complaints, and even got surprises!

Yesterday was a relaxing visit to Ash Drive/Glen Lake Fen. There had been exactly one human couple the entire time, which is rare there. I had a blast checking out all the dried winter grasses, feeling all the fuzzy staghorn sumac stems, touching the edges of the huge thorns on the trunk of the black locust I always visit there, and enjoying the glare of the small, bright white birch trees. The fen was almost completely frozen over, so no waterfowl to look for. I snuck down a little trail to the ice, and caught sight of mouse tracks leading from one tiny bush to another.

At first the birds seemed slim in density but soon enough there was a steady cacophony of tufted titmice, one of my absolute favorites. They followed me all along the entire trail. I'm so used to hearing their hoarse call that to hear them brightly singing, "Peter Peter Peter!" on a sunny, bitter winter day struck me as odd. I was surprised I only had two black-capped chickadee visitors, they're sort of the staple winter woodland bird in the Northeast. Four white-breasted nuthatches all of which loudly call out ank ank ank in alert to my presence. One blue jay made one short call, a deedle that sounded as if it should be coming from one of the first computers in existence, or maybe R2D2. A northern cardinal couple chipped at me for a bit before returning to munch on grapes.

The surprises, however, came from reminding myself to keep an eye on the sky. I was watching an ice fisherman sitting on the middle of Glen Lake, only to have my eye caught by a gleaming white movement in the sky above him. I instantly knew it was a gull, but I thought, "Wow, that is awfully large for a ring-billed." And then I noticed no gleaming from the upperside on the turns it made as it circled above. I steadied my binoculars on the gull, and noticed the near-black wash across the upperwings! A black-backed gull. At Glen Lake. I couldn't figure out if it was a great or lesser, but was glad to see one around. I've seen quite a few this year, despite my understanding that they are not common here. I pondered this, and minutes later, caught sight of a small, strangely shaped silhouette piercing through the sky at a rather high speed. Upon closer look I figured out that it was a little American kestrel making it's way to the tall trees nearby! I haven't seen one in months.

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Today I woke up to a much more dreary day, but fairly warm for winter. I just didn't feel like going out there but made myself. I walked the easy path of Betar Byway in SGF, ground I have covered dozens, maybe even a hundred times by now. I can point out all the spots I've seen all sorts of species, and what they were doing. I could tell stories of individual birds I've seen repeatedly there. I even caught myself today staring at a sign there where I had once seen a big pudgy bluebird resting. It makes meeting humans on the trail a bit irritating, many of them make comments that make it apparent they assume it's my first time being there, and make comments regarding how few birds I will see since it is winter now. Okie doke, I say, and pity how ignorant they are of their surroundings. Betar is a great spot for birding on a good winter day. It's also a great spot to stand near the river and watch and hear the ice crack and buckle, as I did today.

The American crows were out in full force, and while I did not take the time to really count them, there had to be 30-40 of them, eventually mobbing something that was out of my sightline, unfortunately. It was likely the red-tailed hawk I saw there recently, who was getting mobbed at that point. I enjoy the steady rowing of the wingbeats of crows and got to see plenty.

This is a fantastic spot to watch northern cardinals as there are plenty here due to the heavy source of food. Plenty of berries to go around. I noticed the cardinals are almost always eating grapes rather than anything else.

There's also a great mix of small birds that love the underbrush (there's plenty of underbrush here)! Dark-eyed juncos are here and there, loudly trilling. There's a distinct spot loaded with house sparrows, whether you like them or not. Today I got quite the treat, two American tree sparrows that seemed rather bold - they were out in the open by the brush, bouncing around in the snow, even resting on the pavement at times. One seemed not bothered by my presence as he picked through a bunch of dried leaves. A white-throated sparrow was also very busy foraging in the underbrush. I also heard a Carolina wren (another spot to see one is the Warren County Bikeway at Country Club Rd) calling it's breathy, descending trill in the distance.

Betar of course also had it's typical winter forest birds, black-capped chickadees in curious droves, white-breasted nuthatches scaling branches and trunks, blue jays sneaking around mid-tree, and tufted titmice yelling to everyone that I was there. Betar can also be busy with woodpeckers - today I only had two downy woodpeckers, one male and one female.

American black ducks, six of them, were hanging out in one of the very few open pools of water on the Hudson. No other waterfowl to be seen.

I was surprised to see two northern mockingbirds silently perched on a branch out in the open, nowhere near each other. I see one all spring and summer there, for some reason did not expect even one in the winter. They look rather plain with an innocent face this time of year. Much different from their spring and summer persona and look.

There are a few trees along the Byway I always look at, as they're known for having fairly frequent, high levels of bird activity. One was notoriously quiet on my first pass, but on the way back, I heard this horrible sound coming from multiple fat little birds perched in that tree, a sort of metallic, very loud chattering. I have never heard such an awful sound from a bird, and it sounded as if they were upset. Looking up in the tree, I was confused and amazed at the assortment of species - two cardinals sitting together quietly in the middle of the tree, a nearby tree with two cedar waxwings squished against each other and also contained a bunch of eastern bluebirds, and the major tree also containing bluebirds and four house finches. I initially wondered if maybe the finches were the cause of the noise, but unless they could throw voices, it wasn't them. They were huddled down on the branches, barely moving, looking very cold and not opening their little bills. I watched the bluebirds, and noticed that each time I would hear one of those obnoxious calls, a bluebird would have it's bill open and would be fluttering it's wings and moving all around the branches. I was surprised. I know of only one sound out of a bluebird, and it's a soft, mournful fall of a note. I counted nine bluebirds in all, only maybe four were this active and loud. I wondered if maybe they were young.

Old Man Winter

2010-12-23T16:23:00.002-05:00

I must admit, winter is the hardest time for me to get out there to go birding. It's the short days and the unpredictable Northeast winter which is also rough on the birds, and with our migratory birds finally gone for the season, some days can lead to very few individuals. The lack of a variety of wild food sources (unsurprising) also make me a bit less interested.

I've still managed to get out and have still wound up seeing some neat bird-related events and species in the past few months.

One of them I just saw in the past hour, the hour before day breaks (it's now quite dim as the sun likely has gone below the horizon). Hundreds - not dozens, literally hundreds - of crows flying in a messy, loose stream, low overhead, heading to their wintering night roosts near the Hudson River. If one was not looking up one might not have noticed, as the crows made no noise.

The lack of noise from those crows was almost surreal, considering that most times upon seeing them, it's due to them cawing loudly, which I got to witness earlier today over the Hudson. I tried birding Betar today, but the wind was constant and extremely bitter, causing my face to become quite painful. I just had to turn around and slowly trudge back and nearly ignored the cries of about a dozen crows behind me, obviously agitated. My curiosity got the best of me and I spun around to see them dive-bombing a red-tailed hawk I had watched earlier in my walk (he or she had been soaring quietly against the whitewashed winter sky as if enjoying the cold streams of air). The hawk flew against the crows as if it found them silly and not at all a threat or annoyance.

Earlier in this season of darkness and brisk cold (makes me able to understand why some of the best metal comes from the Nordic countries; the freezing cold can be hell on earth) I got to watch in clear view, a tiny golden-crowned kinglet flitting about the branches at Bog Meadow. Absolutely stunning colors and a cute face. I even got the best view of the top of it's head, the orange-streaked yellow crown bordered by black. I thought, a photo of one taken on a snowy branch would make a great Christmas card. But even more astounding is how the little bird just cannot stay still. It's as if it is manic, unable to handle perching on a branch for more than a few seconds, needing to visit every single tree nearby. I'm guessing this is part of it's feeding strategy, as it gleans and even hawks insects. I guess if you're going to catch a certain prey item, the best way to do so is to move like it.

I actually feel as though I've missed out on a few species this winter, including the medium-sized owl I spotted in some snowy grasslands yesterday morning at 6:55 AM, pine siskins, grosbeaks, snow buntings, and the finches have all somehow disappeared. I did get a bald eagle earlier on, flying low overhead, low enough to clearly spot the white tail and head.

Ah well, 3-4 more months to go! Before I know it, I will be swearing at my field guides over warblers I've troubled myself to ID and getting a stomachache from overdoing the foraging.

Birding, Interrupted

2010-11-14T21:43:00.003-05:00

Seems often when I come back to the blog idea, life kicks me into a gutter somewhere, which causes me utter writer's block. But I'm picking the pieces back up, and thus coming back here.

Today I went out for some solid birding after a week of dealing with, well, crap! The weather was fantastic. I enjoyed the soft warmth of the sun and the light breeze on my face while walking the Betar Byway. Apparently, the birds enjoyed this weather as well, I was impressed with the sheer numbers this time around. Usually for all species I see there I get an individual here, another one there, and can only get a decent number by totaling those at the end. Not today. Today we had large migrating or foraging (or mating?) groups.

Example: I kept watching ring-billed gulls singly flying north up the Hudson River, which didn't surprise me - they often head to downtown Glens Falls, sometimes to grab some fries at Burger King. I was surprised when I headed to the beach only to see a gathering of almost 200 just resting in a tight group right on the river (it's apparently shallow enough where they could stand in the middle). Closing one's eyes, the calls could make one feel they were at the ocean.

Behind them, a large group of rowdy Canada geese were resting along the opposite shoreline, some up on the grassy spots behind a business. I enjoy seeing them in their large gatherings this time of year, and their calls, while annoying to some, are a comfort to myself.

A small foraging group of hooded mergansers lingered between the two species, being much more active, and annoyingly harder to see.

Cedar waxwings were also in large numbers at Betar today, somewhere between 40-50 sitting in about 5 consecutive trees. They were mostly quiet, and didn't seem to be busily foraging. I spent time trying to see if they had a Bohemian amongst them, but by definition of such a word, that wouldn't really make any sense. An amateur birder stood nearby with his own bins, staring in awe at such beautiful beings, yet apparently unaware of exactly who they were until questioning me later. I was extremely pleased to find someone else where I was in birding only a few years ago - curious, thirsty to know everybody with feathers, making friends of such strangers.

Waterfowl were busy today as well there - dozens of mallards took up the inlet as their private space for mating. I heard an assortments of sounds from them, plenty of whistles, flapping of wings and slapping of them on the water, some quacking. I find it odd they should be mounting females this time of year, but they performed such acts last year as well, and in various places (one can see this taking place now at Hovey Pond). About 20 American black ducks lingered within their circle, possibly mating with them. About four wood ducks were taking shelter amongst their lair, hidden by some brush.

Songbirds were fairly uncommon today, and if they were around, they weren't apt to make themselves visible. I did catch a glimpse of a female northern cardinal, and a few others chipped from the brush. Chickadees, the forest keepers, would pop out here and there from a branch to alert the others, and a few blue jays practiced their hawk mimicry. I watched one ripping apart a leaf nest high in a tree; in search of what, I had no idea. A white-breasted nuthatch ran up and down a trunk, calling out. But finches and sparrows were notoriously absent, probably disappointed that it wasn't colder, as bitter temperatures seem to really bring them out.

Woodpeckers hung around those waxwings, foraging. A female downy woodpecker and a red-bellied woodpecker lingered within their social gathering. Pileated woodpeckers were further down by the beach, calling to give the forest a more jungle-like feel, and one flew overhead while I was on the beach with the amateur birder, looking awfully large and primitive. They make it possible for me to imagine that the Archaeopteryx once existed.

One last notable species lingering around was the northern mockingbird, apparently perched on the far side of the river from myself. I listened to it calling for almost 20 minutes non-stop, unable to get a clear hearing on the calls themselves, but I enjoyed the bright, cheery quality that causes one to think of early spring. It seemed as though even he, like many locals, is hoping for a mild winter.

Unexpected Visitors

2010-11-03T16:47:00.003-04:00

I had a fantastic visit to the feeders at exactly 4 PM a few afternoons ago. As soon as I exited my car, I heard a fast, repeated, descending breathy trill, one I couldn't place and wasn't sure I'd ever heard before. I searched for the location of the bird, quickly found across the road but not sighted. I waited patiently in the driveway, and the bright orange-y and cinnamon brown tiny ball of feathers darted across my path, loudly but still breathlessly trilling, then landing on the feeders. A fellow bird then began making a call sounding like a hollow wooden stick being tapped against a drinking glass, over and over, before also flying onto the feeders. Running and grabbing my binoculars, I quickly found the upright short tails and exaggerated, huge white superciliums leading right to the back of the head! There was also a pale white throat and buffy belly on these two cute little Carolina wrens. These feeders, as far as anyone knows, have not seen Carolina wrens in the 9 years they have existed. I've seen plenty in the area in general. It's likely they were simply migrating on through. I was delighted to have them for the 10 minutes they lingered. They loved the suet. The male (the one who trills) got on top of the feeder, trilled some more, while his lady made more 'dit' sounds, as they have been described, and the male bobbed up and down repeatedly like an oompa loompa, cracking me up. They were soon off, probably to head a bit more south.

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Today I finally headed over to Moreau Lake State Park, after not having visited for probably two months now. There are huge areas of land quiet of birds, but other spots are prime - the lake itself, the Nature Center, and what I call the Reed Trail that follows the wetland full of phragmites on one side. The lake today held common mergansers - two females and a male following them around; a great blue heron flew overhead, making soft flapping sounds; about a dozen American black ducks were lingering; 32 Canada geese were noisily enjoying the calm waters while about 150 more flew over later on. Most of the park presented black-capped chickadees (the keeper of the forest), blue jays, and white-breasted nuthatches. The Nature Center grounds were caked with dark-eyed juncos, who were happily trilling while foraging on the ground, and a few made strange, hollow, reed-like tew tew tew tew calls. The trees near them had some tufted titmice, who fed with them. Another tufted titmouse was closely followed by a white-breasted nuthatch wherever it went. A male downy woodpecker peeked out at me, making not a sound, compared to the more exuberant red-bellied woodpecker whose calls were a bit too close to a northern flicker to tell them apart without a good view.

I later watched a male pileated woodpecker creeping it's way all over a trunk before quietly flying off, had a snack on some delicious wintergreen berries, and saw about 30 mallards lingering around one of the wetland areas.

It was a beautiful day for some decent birding, but being closely followed the entire way by a strange male human was disturbing.

Yay, I'm Back to Posting!

2010-10-30T19:51:00.003-04:00

Wooo I've come back to the blog! It's not that I really left it, but I simply couldn't keep up with myself all summer. I met a fellow 'young' birder and have gone birding with him regularly which has been fantastic, worked two jobs, and went hiking when I wasn't birding. I simply couldn't do one more thing at the time.

I've noticed that autumn birding has two modes, probably no more, and it is maddening. If it's sunny, you won't see much of anything at all, and will come down with a case of birding doldrums (and you will probably freeze your bum off). If it's rainy/overcast/post-rainstorm, it's as if the sky opened up and every bird in existence has fallen out into every square inch! There seems to be no in-between.

I've had this experience this week with one new spot. Autumn is probably a terrible season to explore a new place in the temperate zone for this simple variation. After much reading online of multiple uncommon/rare species at the Vischer Ferry Preserve by Cohoes, NY, I just had to finally go. Overall, I'm psyched that I have twice this week. But I've just come back from my second visit, and today we had sunny mode. Very few birds. It drove me nuts. I went there on Tuesday for the first time and fell in love with the habitat, to begin with. It's a very wet, flat area, some forest, a canal with great riparian/edge habitats, cattail marshes, brushy areas, open ponds. Trails, while well-used, were not completely eroded away (though some are muddy) or over-marked. I was glad it seems to be one of the few spots that haven't turned into some dumbed-down-for-general-public interpretive center with a million kiosks and signs.

The number of birds on Tuesday - WOW. I've only ever seen flocks like this at an actual migration stopover site - never in Warren and Washington counties of NY. About 30 mourning doves in one tree alone, about 30 cedar waxwings feeding on berries, swarming from bush to bush, 50-100 white-throated sparrows. Some readers may still say that's small scale, but when you've got them all together like that in a small area, it's overwhelming when they're all flitting about non-stop. I absolutely welcomed the challenge. Unfortunately, with the sunny weather today, nothing of the sort was occurring.

The species I've been getting there have made it all worth it. There are plenty of the common species there. But what's amazing is that as soon as I got out of my car at the main lot, a black-throated green warbler was calling persistently! Seems awfully late in the year. I also got, believe it or not (recent records from others at VF confirm these species), a Lincoln's sparrow, which was in with a large flock of white-throated and song sparrows, and a Swainson's thrush. These are life birds for me, and I've been on the search for the Lincoln's sparrow. Against a song, the Lincoln's really only shows subtle differences, mostly in the buffy wash, and the finer dark breast streaks. Oh, and of course the wren-like call (the call is like that of a marsh, but the length nearly seems to reach that of the winter)! This individual (and I believe there were two) was a fairly persistent singer, alert to my presence was he or she. The funniest thing is that it never made it's head visible to me, no matter how much it flitted about. But I definitely saw the buffy wash on the flanks, the breast, and when it moved, a bit of a buffy mustache. I've read they can be elusive birds; this one couldn't have made itself much more obvious. And I was delighted.

The Swainson's was more of an oddball sighting. I was mostly done with birding, and was staring at a tree that stood out to me. Moved my eyes a bit, focused on a branch, and there it was, unmoving and quiet. It never called, and only turned around once for me to see it certainly had no rufous tail, canceling out the possibility of the fairly common Hermit (and it definitely was not a wood thrush!). I at the time had no idea what I was looking at, besides thrush, so I took copious notes. I even read Sibley's blog. After some research, it was plainly obvious it had to be a Swainson's. Hooray!

I also had a great double-crested cormorant sighting there, off Ferry Drive. An adult was riding a moving log down-river, swam off up-river, then got stuck in a current it wanted to go up, refusing to go back down-river. In it's attempt to go up and getting swept down, it wound up going in circles in one place about 10 times before finally giving up and going with the flow. I had myself a hearty laugh.

Today the birding there was awful, but looking into one of the open wet areas in one of the large marshes, I spotted the shape of a small duck and yelled to J. that I was seeing something. Binoculars up, I saw a dark, brick-red head and white bar on the side on beautiful light-grey body. Not knowing my ducks well from memory of a guide, J. immediately pointed out to me what I was seeing was a green-winged teal! Another life bird for me. There were at least two males, amongst a group of 10 ducks (not all identifiable, light was harsh).

Also notable was a Canada goose there with large portions of white mottling on the neck and head where it should have been black.

And again, another notable species, two black-backed gulls flying overhead at Ferry Drive as well. Could not tell of which black-backed species they were, however, probability says they were likely great black-backed gulls.

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Must mention the pair of adult bald eagles hanging around Peebles State Park. One flew off early on, the other rested on a perch high in a leave-less tree for the half hour I sat there with J. watching ring-billed gulls, domestic geese, and some double-crested cormorants enjoy swimming around the river. The bald eagle called every time a bird would fly overhead, giving a good alarm to potential sightings.

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Keep an eye out, I may update soon with highlights from the massive amount of summer birding I did. There were some great sightings this year, propelling me further into this lifestyle.

Not-So-Common Moorhen

2010-05-11T16:26:00.003-04:00

Yes, I know it's been almost two months and I haven't updated, right through the busy migration season. Believe me, I have definitely been birding! In fact, my lack of updates mostly has to do with me birding so much that I couldn't keep up with the updates. I'll do a spring migration summary soon, as it's not so much birding the same spots that interests me as it is when all the species came back this year. I wish I had long-term data to compare this too, as there's concern out there whether the change in weather patterns (and we've had a weird one this spring) has been affecting migration arrival dates.

However, I can't let my fantastic day of birding go by me. Today I headed out early to the West Rutland Marsh (in Vermont), as I have only been there once before, in late fall, in the worst weather for birding. The enormous quiet marsh looked extremely promising, however.

I was the only one there when I arrived this morning, but apparently this is a popular spot for mostly birders. This is an enormously welcome change from upstate NY, where all my birding spots are popular with non-birders who don't really know the birding ethics. It also gave me knowledgeable people to share info with. Now that I'm back in NY I'm a little sad that I don't have a spot like this closer. My local area seemingly is devoid of seasoned birders. It was fun being at West Rutland Marsh and seeing others getting excited over the same things that make my day.

It was bitterly cold this morning at the marsh, as there's nothing taller than a cattail (though the main boardwalk does have a tree nearby) blocking out the wind. This did not stop me. I hunkered down and watched the dozen or so highly visible and noisy male red-winged blackbirds either in flight or on the cattail reeds. A yellow warbler and common yellowthroat sung their songs from the brush on the other side of Marble Street. Three Canada geese flew overhead, belting out their autumnal honks. A few American goldfinches passed by overhead with their "potato chip" flight call. I watched for a bit as a black-capped chickadee tore the fluff out of a cattail head, it scattering in the breeze. I stood on the boardwalk, wondering if this was all there was and my hour drive was in vain. I turned around to see two iridescent blue and white tree swallows swoop in front of my face, bubbling, and landing in the nest box at the boardwalk entrance! Tree swallows fascinate me, not only for their color and song, but also how they seem to float on the air, exactly in the same form as a kite. I could watch them for hours. Later on when a bird photographer came along, one of the swallows would alight on the boardwalk railing about a foot away, in the sunlight, perfect composition for a photo or two.

The barn swallows came later in the day, and I was in awe of them. I have had the hardest time finding them in upstate NY, and have missed them dearly since I moved back from Erie, PA, where I would be attacked on a regular basis by them in a beach bathroom.

There were a few birds that I thought a strange addition to this habitat. There was a mourning dove cooing and periodically flying around the reeds. A common grackle briefly joined the blackbirds. Later on, an American crow was forced over the marsh by some mobbing blackbirds.

The eastern kingbirds I saw seemed, at first, randomly scattered throughout the marsh, not making any sounds at all or their buzzy "pew"s being drowned out by the blackbirds. I watched as they sat majestically, preening or fluffing up the gun-metal grey crown tufts. They seem to lord over the marsh, or may just seem that way to me as I view them as a huge version of an eastern phoebe with a beautiful white tail tip. They are also not at all shy, sitting right on the boardwalk to get a great view of us humans.

Approaching the edge of the boardwalk, I came upon a rather tall brush that mostly obscured the view. On the other side a cacophony of sound began. The calls sounded like the woodcock's "peent" interspersed with an extremely melodic song that resembled the tinkling of bells, but almost electric in quality. I at first had no idea what I was hearing, and softly leaned over to peer into the bush only to see the tiniest wren in alert-mode, with it's tail almost as long as it's body sticking straight up, totally stiff. I was tempted to scream for glee, but instead start writing notes...it's body and tail were a brilliant dark rusty orange-brown, with a few spots of grey interspersed with an intricate black and white pattern, these spots mostly on it's mantle and what looked to be the secondaries. They were very alert, which made them fun to watch, and I soon realized there were plenty of them singing all throughout the marsh. They are unsurprisingly called the marsh wren.

I then started hearing some odd, very unfamiliar calls. I looked for the bird from the spot with the most indescribable calls first, and was rewarded immediately (though I did apparently write a description of one call from this individual - a soft, heron-like 'unk unk unk unk unk unk'). Sitting in a small pool of water surrounded by phragmites and cattails was a charcoal-gray head with deep black eye, and a long fairly thin bill that was bright orange with a bright yellow nail. It completely blew my mind. A common moorhen was sitting staring at me in hiding! These are not at all common birds in this area, and a birder later told me that they are quite rare there - to the point where Audubon's posted list of 12 months of West Rutland Marsh did not even include such species. Words cannot describe how exciting this is for myself.

There were two songs that were completely unfamiliar to me which I myself tried to write down how they sounded to me and then matched them up with Sibley's voice descriptions. This worked surprisingly well, further causing me to view Sibley as my birding bible. The first call was a low, throaty, somewhat hoarse "gidik" repeated about eight times - this is apparently that of the male Virginia rail, of whose presence was later confirmed by a local and frequent visitor. There were actually TWO other calls of another species, though I cannot describe one of them (Sibley describes it as a sharp, whistled kooEE). The other I described as a long, descending, "to-WEE-eee-ee-ee-e-e-e-e-ee," which is that of the sora. I did not see either species, but hearing them was enough to be delightful.

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I took a short walk south down Marble Street and right back onto Water Street to head to the open area of water on both sides of the guardrail, but found it much less exciting than the boardwalk. I did however grab a pamphlet of the interpretive walk (which I did not go on this time) which I suggest grabbing, there's a lot of nature info! I spotted one male mallard sitting by himself in the reeds, quiet. There were, of course, plenty more exciting marsh wrens and noisy red-winged blackbirds. There was a lone eastern kingbird looking regal, and a tree swallow bubbling about. What I did not expect to hear was a trill, more musical and a bit more extended than that of the chipping sparrow but very similar, except this trill blatantly descended and faded. While I cannot find a sound clip of a swamp sparrow actually descending at the end of the song, it is the only sparrow that hangs out in marshes that Sibley actually describes as having a descending trill. (And if you're wondering, it did not always descend at the end.)

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I headed back to the boardwalk area and chatted for almost an hour with some kind locals. During this time I heard and/or saw a few 'extras', including a song sparrow that called once, a broad-winged hawk a photographer and I caught sight of while it was being mobbed, a common raven we heard and then saw, also being mobbed, and while I was sitting on a rock writing in the journal for Audubon near the one tree, a brilliantly colored Baltimore oriole sat right on the top, peering down at me, and then called out it's song multiple times before flying off, apparently before the photographer could take a photo. That bird felt like a gift just for me on my extremely great birding adventure.

March 20th - Equinox Birding

2010-03-24T16:24:00.002-04:00

I spent the first day of spring birding for approximately 5 hours in my favorite spots Warren/Washington Counties. While I'd like to add to that list, it was nice revisiting areas that had previously been caked with snow and therefore somewhat inaccessible.

While some people use the calendar alone to validate the beginning of spring, I've also noticed it in a few other ways lately. The obvious American robin now using it's spring/summer/fall foraging habitat of the front lawn; Eastern bluebirds returning to birdboxes made just for them; a plethora of red-winged blackbirds making their way back north to set all marshes alight with buzzy, harsh calls of "conk-la-ree" and their higher-pitched, whistled, though still buzzy, "See-errrr." Also notable, though not exactly bird-related and more horrifying...the deer ticks are out now. There's a particularly nasty spot of them between Mud Pond and Spier Falls Road (Moreau Lake) where the habitat turns brushy/grassy; I'd advise you to either not visit there or wear long pants and rock the Repel Permanone and do a thorough post-check if need-be.

So yes, March 20th! The spots I'm mentioning are all easily accessible and public, so visit them if you wish. I will warn that if you try to do them all in one round trip, it might actually take longer than the 5 hours I did, as I also spent part of that time joyriding and making great time. But alas: I checked out Dunham's Bay marsh (Bay Road boat lot), SGF Betar Byway, Hovey Pond/Park, and Ash Drive at Glen Lake.

Dunham's Bay possibly was my favorite that day. It was quiet, no other people around, and just stunning to look at, the still water hidden behind many reeds. Two Canada geese were lazing about and preening from time to time. A pair of mallards followed suit, but staying quite some distance from them. I saw a bit more activity from another duck pair, each individual alternately diving briefly...the lighting obscured their colorations and markings a bit, but from what I saw I was almost certain that it was a pair of common goldeneye! Fellow birders all winter long kept letting me know of sightings in the area but I never caught sight of this apparently more elusive species.

Betar Byway had a "more of the same" feel to it for me, but I'm eagerly awaiting migration, as I miss the vireos and warblers that litter this trail in the spring. Not that "more of the same" is at all negative. This is a fantastic birding spot, always something to see...this is where I first noticed the inundation of red-winged blackbirds, one handsome male sitting in a high perch, showing off it's black wings tipped with red and yellow primary colors. Canada geese are now back in this spot, as are house sparrows. The tufted titmice and northern cardinals are still here in larger numbers, and I finally spotted an American black duck after their brief hiatus from the inlet here. My walk back up the Byway was the better half; right near the Hudson River shoreline, for even non-birders to get a good sight of was a handsomely painted pair of hooded mergansers, actively foraging with their extended dives and popping back up in another location. I finally got a great sighting of the red eye of the male. Many people stopped to stare for a bit and then asked, "What are those birds?" Further up was a flock of noisy ring-billed gulls and an even noisier group of common grackles, another bird I didn't notice all winter but are back with the blackbirds. I know this time last year I was saying as a newer birder I didn't find a single species to be a pest...my annoyance has grown for this species alone, as in my trips I have noticed they tend to drive out the smaller birds both with just showing up and in the extremely raucous sounds.

Hovey Pond/Park was quiet, but this is not unusual for this spot, likely due to it's unfortunate location in a busy commercial area. I also tend to get distracted by the volunteer-planted/maintained gardens here. Also worth checking out, and something I didn't notice before, is that many of the trees that dot this landscape are labeled - notable trees included the dawn redwood, pin oak, river birch, Colorado blue spruce, and a shrub called Caragana arborescens. Birds located here on the vernal equinox: mallards, mourning doves, red-winged blackbirds, crows, and a black-capped chickadee.

Ash Drive had a couple of creepy fishermen, but I ignored them to enjoy the sun setting. At this point in my walking I started to resent just how complicated human life can be and wished to spend my life in the much more simple wild. This spot also gives me the worst desire for migration to occur soon as it's a spot with high levels of bird activity and occasionally gets much sought after flycatchers. Right now it's still fairly calm, though one can hear over a dozen red-winged blackbirds at the marshy fen and over at Glen Lake. There's still high levels of black-capped chickadee activity, and the grackles have invaded this spot as well. I was psyched to see a lone turkey vulture (I tend to refer to them as TVs) softly rocking along a warm jet of air overhead. Even this early in the year the bikeway at this spot reminds me of the lazy warm days of summer.

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Also worthy of note from last night though not a confirmed sighting was an early evening potential spotting of a great blue heron flying over the Rte 9L area just north of Rte 149. It was too large to be much else, and had the flight pattern/style of the heron, but again, lighting really killed my ability to figure out exactly what it was. I would not think a sighting of such a bird would be unusual there, as Dunham's Bay marsh is just north/northwest of there.

Country Club Rd/Sweet Rd Bikeway

2010-03-19T19:47:00.003-04:00

I've been psyched that the time change has left a good hour or so after work (if I am not working my other job after) to explore locally. However, I have been unable to really handle much physical exercise for the past two weeks...I took a hard fall down an icy ridge on the Moreau Overlook in Moreau Lake State Park, the only thing stopping me a tree with approximately a 6" diameter, and a jagged rock the size of nearly a basketball, right to the coccyx. There was almost no walking down the rest of the trail, and there's been little of that since. But I couldn't resist the t-shirt weather today brought to the area and headed out to the Warren County Bikeway at it's junction with Country Club Road. It's a short easy walk that softly winds it's way to Sweet Road, where I usually turn around rather than battling with traffic to hear the birds.

The weather was great. I merely wore some sneakers, jeans, and my work t-shirt...it was a pleasure to bare arms to the sun and feel not a bit of icy cold yet see snow all around me. I had a chuckle seeing many locals also on the trail, dressed as though the forecast was calling for a blizzard.

It looked like spring was just slightly kissing the trail. I believe I spotted some pussy willows littered with their fuzzy buds. I could smell the neon green moss sighted all along the trail edges. Tiny streams/brooks followed alongside the path, fresh with snowmelt. I also noticed an increase in the activity of what I came for: the birds.

American crows frequent this spot anyway, though never really visiting the trees right near the bikeway. They seem to linger in yards or in nearby marshy spots. I caught sight of one using a dried phrag as a tool.

American goldfinches were in rather large numbers here, at least compared to winter. I didn't see a single one, but could hear their canary-like songs in nearby trees.

The red-winged blackbirds were out in full force. I didn't hear them all winter; perhaps one could consider them a sign of spring. I saw either a juv or a female perched high up in a deciduous tree, appearing to be enjoying the sun's warmth. The rest were hidden in the reeds in the marshy areas. I welcomed their bubbly alarm chirps and well-known "conk-la-reeeee" calls that non-birders associate with the hot, long, humid summer days.

Black-capped chickadees littered the trees as usual, this being their year-round native habitat. I simply took note that there were fewer than during winter, and left them to their acrobatics and watchfulness. One called out a long, lonely-sounding, thin, wavering, "Phoeeeeee-beeeee." I liken that call to a rusty old playground seesaw.

There were less woodpeckers, though I heard a brief call from either a downy woodpecker or a hairy. Seems the winter birds are leaving the spot they frequented all winter long.

I heard and saw one pudgy American robin resting near the red-winged blackbird in the tree. I've been hearing a lot of people mention them as the sign of spring, yet I do not associate them as such. I often think them late compared to migration peaks, and I see them all winter long.

White-breasted nuthatches and red-breasted nuthatches were both present, one each. There was also a dark-eyed junco making it's own popping alarm call and ringing trill. A pair of mourning doves quietly flew overhead, their wings not making their characteristic whistle.

White-throated sparrows are still in this area in the wet brushy habitat just before the arborvitae stand. Despite the "broken cassette recording" song Sue and I became familiar with in the autumn, I am unsure that the new melodic songs I heard today near their location actually belonged to them. But I saw the male clearly, as if it posed just for me in the reeds. They are such enormous sparrows, and the yellow lore is a dead giveaway.

The Carolina wren was in it's usual spot, this time singing, "Figaro figaro figaro figaro," rather than it's car alarm call. It sounded rather cheery today. I still have not got a sighting of it, which is a bit frustrating.

I couldn't believe my ears the rest of the ramb. le, however. I'm used to this location being home to northern cardinals and even getting a good-sized count, but today I counted between 8-10 that were calling non-stop, apparently more to each other than to anything else and not necessarily for alarm. They too have a popping alarm call, but today they were actually singing just as much with their loud, clear, bright, "Pew pew pew, wit wit wit wit." The long pause in-between gives an almost haunting effect to the echoes their replies make.

I was completely blown away by a blue jay hiding nearby. At first I was hearing the alarm call of the northern flicker and got excited that I might get a sighting of such a spastic, elusive woodpecker. I rested up against a tree to get a better view, and saw the silhouette, thinking it an odd shape for a flicker. It bounced out into the sun, called, and I could see the blue...the blue jay mimicking perfectly the flicker was better than seeing the flicker itself.

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Other neat stuff from this short walk:

- Pileated woodpecker holes, fresh ones

- Andy, a coworker of mine from way back in the day, who has been avidly biking for, if I remember correctly, over 10 years. I see him on a fairly regular basis on the local bikeway in various spots. I was pleased to talk birds with him briefly before he went back on his way.

- My buddy Mike D., another person I haven't seen in quite some time, also out on his bike. It was a pleasure seeing him out!

- one eastern chipmunk, not at all bothered by my presence

- cirrocumulus, or "mackerel sky"

The Wise Old Owl Helps Me to Remember

2010-01-30T23:39:00.002-05:00

Tonight (at exactly 11:30 PM) I heard a great horned owl while trying to get in the door that was nearly frozen shut. I have not heard a GHO in the wild in the past, only in captivity, two years ago when I was helping out at a wildlife rehab center (there was a huge, lovely, blind GHO who would call whenever you put a mouse nearby). So hearing the first few notes of the call caused me to stop dead in my tracks, standing with the door wide open, lock in key, completely shocked. I stood looking around at how bright everything is from the full moon, looking at the silhouettes of the trees, and waited...it seemed almost a full minute before it called again, a low, slightly raspy, slow "Hooooo HOOOOO...hoooo...hoooooo." I listened to it one more time before realizing my finger was becoming extremely painful - it seems I may have gotten a bit of frostbite on it from pumping gas in the arctic cold. Faaaannnntastic.

And then it dawned on me how easily I could ID such a species with hardly ever seeing or hearing it...while standing there listening to that call, I pictured in my mind the blind GHO from the center...it's my photographic memory, combined with audio! I'm naturally very visual and can remember things I see for long after I forget their names. I'm also quite aural, and remember sounds long after (I'm also very musical). My memory is a bit weaker on the sounds side, so if I hear the sounds alone when first learning them I might have some trouble learning what it belongs to. But once I see the bird opening it's bill and making noise, I'm bound to remember what that sound belongs to by trying to imagine it later on when I can only hear it. THAT is my trick! And it happens so swiftly and so naturally that it never dawned on me before.

The Sky and the Earth

2010-01-28T23:38:00.002-05:00

Those are the objects the bluebird is said to represent by it's colors. The blue I saw flashing before my car's windscreen two days ago was something more deep blue, resembling the deeper ocean or royalty. I could not decide, but I was so surprised to see that color in the dead of winter, even though I do know the bluebirds stick around. Females are quite a bit 'duller' in color, if you can even call them dull at all, so this was likely a handsome male making it's way across the Ridge Road/Haviland Road intersection in Queensbury. Haviland seems to be a popular spot for this species, the early spring sighting I had of a bluebird last year was down Haviland, by Adirondack Community College.

Sporadic Birds

2010-01-23T16:58:00.002-05:00

I have not done any solid birding since last post, but I always keep my eyes open. This winter has been a strange one in the Northeast - lack of plenty of snowfall, bitterly cold temperatures, and apparently no major irruptions of any species. I have not even seen a snowy owl this year (I usually see them at some point along Tripoli Road in Washington County). And the feeders are eerily quiet compared to last year with the massive exodus of pine siskin. It makes winter feel a little bit lonely.

I have seen all over Warren County some fairly solitary crows (though in fairly moderate numbers) waddling on top of the short snowbanks, looking for whatever food they can find. They also love roadsides as plows shove any food items to the side; I have seen plenty of crows with what look to be bits of baked goods.

Drives along Quaker Road have spots of rock doves (pigeons) resting plumply on the wires over the stoplights. Not many people like those birds, but I get a chuckle from seeing how round and large they are, sitting on a tiny line in the sky.

I also haven't seen many goldfinches this year, but spotted a bright yellow male flying around. Despite that they stick around in winter, I still think of them as a summer bird.

A mockingbird flew closely to my windshield while I was going 55 mph this week. I am not sure how it maneuvered in such a way to be completely missed by inches, but I got a nice view of the spread black and white undertail.

A single pileated woodpecker called from the woods by Aviation Road while I was at the Aviation Mall earlier this week, parked near Target. It called louder and louder the closer a solitary man walked to the thin corridor of trees by Friendly's.

I've been quite happy to watch the sun set slightly later and later in the afternoon. It seems like spring is so far off, but maybe I will get an early sighting of a bluebird in the next month or two, coming out of the deeper woods, it's winter home in the Northeast.

The Winter of My Discontent

2010-01-16T14:38:00.002-05:00

Winter is really beating me down. I've had no energy for weeks, and thus you guys don't see any birding from me happening. I forced myself to get out on this sunny day, being tricked into thinking there might be an inkling of warmth (see if I ever believe a weatherman again). It was as bitterly cold as has been for weeks, but I kept going! It also helped to run across Sue P. It fascinates me how I could have a week of crappiness but I run into one person who cheers me right up - plus it helps to have someone to chat about fun nature things with. It is not often that I find someone who is knowledgeable and excited to talk about things like birds and trees. I periodically complain about my peers, because most of them are more concerned with looking cool, getting wasted on a weekly if not daily basis, and smoking tons of weed, and having no true interests, so someone like Sue (or Jackie) is pure gold!

The bald eagle was not out today, but I noticed they tend to be bad weather bird sightings. Today is sunny, clear, and bitter. Actually, today wasn't all that great for birding overall, I'm not quite sure where the birds go when it's nice in winter. Odd that they aren't hanging out on the branches in the sun! I also noticed the river was almost all ice, compared to my last Betar Byway venture, so there was no chance of seeing mergansers this time.

I took notice right off that the pool at one of the water works buildings at the Betar Byway is now covered with banging pie tins, obviously to keep birds away from the pool. I thought that odd, as I have never seen a single bird hanging out there recently. Humans...I don't understand them.

I first headed towards the beach. Walking along I heard hidden American goldfinches calling their summer song. A white-breasted nuthatch was a bit less hidden, running around the trunks. I saw off to the treetops to the left a bunch of American crows having a fit, chasing something around. I stood and watched and got a glimpse of a shaggy-looking red-tailed hawk trying to shake them off in flight. I chuckled at how it looked like the hawk was expending much less energy circling and soaring than the crows were in harassing and wildly flapping. Silly crows.

The beach didn't have anything bird-wise to show me though I enjoy the view of the river from the boat launch and stood and looked around. I made my way back up towards the inlet and spotted three American black ducks enjoy what looked like some bathing in the tiny bit of open water hidden from the sun by tall trees. The ice around them periodically moaned but they seemed not to mind.

Walking back up to the Beach Road I heard a pileated woodpecker deeper into the woods.

This is when I found Sue and chatted with her for 50 minutes about all sorts of fun things!

Off I went back up the Betar Byway, up the hill, looking over the steeper hill onto the inlet. I wonder if the water in the inlet stays open all winter, as there's a large portion of it available for waterfowl. The same old American black ducks were down there, eight of them today, also bathing. The sun was shining on them and I got a rare sighting of their stunningly beautiful purple speculums bordered with a thick line of black. I have heard other birders talk about how bland these ducks are, but I find their muted dark browns and this patch of royal hue to be stunning.

I managed, with intensely painful hands (I do not know why the cold does this to them as I do not leave them exposed to the elements - I noticed it has only been this bad since I suffered a bout of Lyme), to make it all the way to the other end of the Byway. Along the way I was greeted with alarm calls from black-capped chickadees who were well camoulflaged. I heard plenty of loud, bright, cheery "peter peter peter peter!" and was shocked. Rarely do I actually hear tufted titmice singing instead of also alarm calling. I'm quite certain the last time I heard one singing was in May! They seem to prefer hoarsely yelling at things to get away. They too made the dreary winter woods seem more summery.

American crows were all over, flying across the Hudson River multiple times to sit on various roosts. They couldn't seem to get comfortable. One nearby crow had a large hunk of something whitish/yellowish in it's bill and made me think of a small vulture when seen from a distance.

I was surprised to see a red-breasted nuthatch spiraling a trunk right in front of me, then hanging upside-down from a top branch, before pecking wildly at it's underside, causing bark to rain down on me. The only way I can describe the call it had today was a high "yip yip yip yip yip yip." White-breasted nuthatches were nearby, having a quieter, calmer snack lower on some trunks.

I got to see two male northern cardinals, both of whom were obviously quite disturbed by my presence. Another hidden cardinal called at some point. The cardinals looked like huge blobs of red feathers with a red mohawk and black mask. I'm not sure if it's their outfit or my experience with their bills that makes me think they appear as formidable opponents. They sat in low brush, peering out at me, making quite loud, metallic, clinking chips.

The field was surprisingly quiet - I always expect to see dark-eyed juncos and white-throated sparrows there, but it never happens. However, the woods edge brought the sounds of two downy woodpeckers squeaking at each other, but I could not find them. It was strange that the rest of the Byway was lacking in woodpeckers today, usually it's loaded. I did also get to spy a chunky little dark-eyed junco well-hidden in some brush further north.

There is a special spot along the Byway that I love, thick with shorter trees all close to each other and completely covered with bittersweet. I sometimes worry that this spot could easily be demolished by the trees toppling under all of those viny plants. But for now it's been a great home to plenty of birds...in the summer I saw many, many yellow warblers hanging out there. Today I heard a cacophony of calls, sounding much like the American goldfinch but missing the more complex melodies; I suppose one could describe it as sounding more like a bunch of parakeets chattering. I could not find them in these trees, so looked lower in the brush where a single version of the chatter came from, and spotted myself a brightly red with thick brown underside streaks house finch. It never saw me, as it was busy picking off bittersweet berries nearby.

ebird

2010-01-05T18:06:00.002-05:00

I certainly need to keep up with ebird, I just put in 2 months worth of birding data and it took me maybe 6 hours. It doesn't help that using ebird is actually rather time consuming itself. Just figuring out the mileage of the trips I take alone takes a lot of work. But it is still fun. Ebird organizes lists for you (though I can't say the lifelist for me is accurate because I did not have actual data for a few species from my past).

The best thing I looked at on there was seeing that for Warren County I am ranked #1 both by species and by completed checklists. Not for the competition, but because birders seemingly don't pay much attention to this county as nearby ones. I had 63 species for this county, making up 63% of the total, and 30 checklists (ebird has not even yet updated all the input of data I did today). Below me is someone with 16 checklists, one with 9, two with 7, and a bunch of 1's.

I was also ranked #1 for Washington County for number of checklists, at 40, and ranked #4 by number of species (making up 31% of the species for this county).

Saratoga County seems to be much more heavily birded, and I've done my fair share there, but only came in at #5 for checklists and #10 for species (making up 41% of the species for this county).

Fascinating! I often wonder who the other birders are with the high numbers, and if they have passed by me quietly without me noticing that they are fellow birders.

Bald Eagle, part 2 (or 3)

2010-01-04T19:42:00.002-05:00

I was thrilled to see my weather website proclaiming that today was warmer than yesterday, so I jumped in my car with birdsong CD and drove off to the Betar Byway. I parked, the only one there, off Beach Road and got out only to find that it actually felt colder than my snowstorm birding of yesterday. I grumbled and headed down Beach Road Hill and got a better look at the European starlings that were hanging out in the brush yesterday. They were beautiful blacks, purples, and greens with bright white spots all over, and shaggy feathers on their heads. They seemed as though they were playing something like musical branches, without the music. An individual would alight on a branch, then fly off to where a previous starling sat while another starling took it's place. Odd birds, they are. I noticed a big blotch of orange off the edge of a branch, which I thought was odd. It was the orange of an eastern towhee which made no sense for this season. The orange flew and landed near some red berries and I soon came to find two brightly colored, pudgy American robins with bright white eye rings wolfing down as many berries as they could find. They were mostly quiet, making a soft "tut-tut" when I got too close.

I checked out the inlet which was quiet today, no creaking this time. A white-breasted nuthatch yanked nearby, but all was quiet otherwise, until the jungle-like raspy trill of a red-bellied woodpecker broke the air. I looked all about for it, not finding it, till it flew right overhead to land on the side of a dead tree. Their nature is curious when compared to that of other woodpeckers. The other species tend not to care of my presence and ignore me; the red-bellieds become quite hyper, constantly alerting everyone else to my presence and running fast circles around the trunk to reach the top of the snag to peer down at me.

I wandered slowly to the beach, seeing a house finch couple resting in low branches and a nearby male northern cardinal loudly chipping away, flicking his tail and jerking his head back with each call note, turning semi-circles on the branches he sat on. The beach itself and nearby Hudson River were seemingly quiet, a few large American crows sitting in the branches of nearby trees. I scanned the waterline (and where forming ice met the sluggish water) and came to a lump of something awfully red. I watched it for awhile, trying to discern what sort of animal had recently been torn to shreds and left dead on the ice edge. No such luck, there was no form to it. I thought it odd that good, fresh meat was going to waste, and even stranger that the crows were not picking at it. I watched and watched but nothing happened, and turned around to head to the trail, when behind my back I heard a strained gull-like call, much like that of the red-shouldered hawk, one that I'm pretty sure doesn't have a wintering range here. Odd...I swung around to see the adult bald eagle coming in for a landing near the meat with a crow trying to intercept. The crow flew back into the branches, and the eagle gently set down near the dead animal, rustled it's wings and tucked them in neatly, walked up to the lunch and slowly pulled flesh away over and over for about 15 minutes. I thought it odd that such a large bird whose behaviors look fragile and pre-determined so as seemingly not to cause excess strain would be chosen for the national symbol.

I left the eagle to his or her lunch and headed to the Byway trail. At this point I was yet again cold right down to my bones. I noticed there is always a slight breeze here from the river, a very damp one, no matter what season. It makes winters bitterly cold here. I trudged along anyhow, meeting a friendly boston terrier and his master at one point, and another dog and man later on, both of whom were interested in the eagle but neither one seeing it.

The American black ducks were out but in lesser number today and much less snow-covered. They still seemed half frozen, standing in the little bit of open water in the inlet. Black-capped chickadees, mourning doves, American goldfinches, white-breasted nuthatches, and northern cardinals all called along my short walk to the first pier. Stopping here, I saw flashes of white from two waterfowl out on the river a long distance off. Looking through my bins, they appeared like two tiny loons with extra thin, long bills and too much white on the sides. I was thoroughly amused at how this is the exact description I read just last night in a book about identifying hard-to-ID species and realized I was looking at two male common mergansers. I rarely see them, so this was a treat. I waited and waited for them to dive, and they eventually did, in unison. Both guys with dogs stopped by to ask what I was seeing, and I could barely speak to them due to being half-frozen like the black ducks. Both asked, "What are mergansers?" I was more than happy to explain.

On my drive around Washington county after my birding trip, I was excited to see multiple red-tailed hawks in different locations. One was sitting right near the road, sitting in the snow, seeming to be concentrating heavily on whatever was under it's talons. I wondered how many other people passing in cars did not even see the large raptor.

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Yesterday I noted that I heard two screams at the Byway beach that sounded much like that of a little girl. I am now somewhat certain that they possibly came from the bald eagle.

Whoa, More Snow!

2010-01-03T22:11:00.003-05:00

This seems to be the snowiest, coldest winter upstate New York has had in a few years! Though I have not yet forgotten the incredible Valentine's Day blizzard a few years back. I have photos to remind me.

But that's okay, today's early afternoon squall that bulldozed through the South Glens Falls area was not going to stop me. It was clear when I went out driving, but as soon as I arrived at the Betar Byway, the snow began to fall. I couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or happy, so I decided to just fully try to enjoy it.

I unfortunately had never been birding in a snowstorm with this type of snow, and quickly found out that visibility was cutting really low. I had to ID birds by shape and song alone (and where I had previously seen certain species along the Byway many times before). I literally could not see any color on any of them. Add to me not wanting to move much because despite my layers, the dampness of the bitter air was cutting down right to my bones. My bins are also good at collecting snow. I spent 25 minutes wandering around the Beach Road entrance of the Byway, not heading down the actual trail much of the way.

Fortunately I caught sight of some mallards in the pool just before the snowfall became heavy. There were two breeding males with their soft grays and metallic greens, a lovely female with her reddish and tan-browns and blackish spotting on orange bill, and a fourth mallard with a plain orange bill with black nail - likely another adult female. They did not stay for long once the snow fell heavier.

I wandered over to the beach-side view of the inlet, where I see the turtles, heron, and phoebe in warmer months. At first it seemed no one was around, but I heard a few black-capped chickadees hiding in the branches, and spotted a few silhouettes of ducks where the water was still open. I stood watching them, planning on getting a better view of them when I started hearing the strange sound of the ice in the inlet cracking and splitting. It was as if the entire earth was going to open up before me.

I wandered to the boat launch at the beach. At this time, I could not see across the Hudson at all, it was just a white sheet. I saw some hunched-up American crows resting on high branches in some deciduous trees near the beach, and one of them poking around the edge of the ice on the river. I stood on the pier, and heard twice what sounded like a little girl letting out a loud scream. It was certainly a hawk of some sort, probably unamused with the presence of the garbage-picking birds. I thought it odd to also hear a group of about 6-10 American goldfinches flying overhead. A downy woodpecker called at this point, probably disturbed by their sudden intrusion to it's resting spot.

At this point I was thoroughly shivering, toes cold despite 2 layers of socks and my comfy hiking boots. I was not about to let up though, still needing to scout out the inlet ducks. Around the pool I went, the utterly quiet pool, snowflakes flying in my eyes, making checking the trees impossible. I got to the other side and started my way along the Byway and peered over the ridge to get a better view of the inlet. I was surprised! I got my first view of ducks being caked by snow! Fifteen American black ducks were huddled together, some resting on the open water, others standing on tiny ice islands. Most had their heads under a wing. All had a layer of white on their backs and heads. I thought it odd that they did not occasionally shake it off, flapping their wings, as I myself was doing (well, I don't have wings). They obviously deal better with the winter weather than I.

Happy with my sighting, I jogged back as quickly as I could up Beach Road hill, but I soon was stopped by my curiosity. Beach Road hill has a densely brushy area to the left when running up it, and I started to see rather large (just smaller than the average crow) dark birds quietly rustling around the dead shrubs. Up my binoculars go...European starlings! Many birders would be annoyed or disgusted at their presence, but I rarely see them here, and enjoy their strange sounds (which they weren't making today), and love their tiny numerous white spots on such miserably-colored feathers. I wondered what they were up to, as there were about 12 of them refusing to sit still on any one perch, making a broad zig-zag pattern by heading up to the highest branches and then gradually skipping from branch to branch down to the brush again. I also wondered if they usually hang around some local softball field or school yard.

I decided I was finished and headed to my car, which I parked at the main waterworks building off Beach Road. This is a trailhead for the Betar Byway, and if you follow the trail left, you head through wooded forest with very little understory. I rarely visit it, as the birding is very poor, and seemed to rarely be visited during the summer by locals. So I was surprised today while warming up my car and cleaning it off to see many locals coming in to walk their dogs along that path during a snowstorm. And they all looked miserable!

My trip back north was a bit unnerving, the roads were slippery which for me was fine but I watched many other drivers slide all over the roads. At the intersection of Quaker Road and Ridge Road in Queensbury, a woman in a compact car did a 180 at the green light, nearly slamming a waiting car. She tried the same turn again, and slid again, almost the same way.

Heading up Ridge Road brought a nice surprise, as I got a solid view of a pileated woodpecker clinging only about 8-10 feet up a telephone pole right alongside the road by the Wesleyan Church. It was almost as if it was watching us silly, vulnerable humans risking our lives, for his or her own enjoyment.

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I received for Christmas a surprise CD of 'Birds of the Forest.' I was elated, though I know most nature CDs wind up with cheesy Kenny G-like music in the background. My CD says 'Tranquility Music' on the side and I have been concerned that I am going to hear piccolos and sax or some other world music instrument. I chucked the CD into my car today and hoped for the best...no music at all! In fact, it has 6 tracks of pure birdsong, running about an hour. Each track is a different habitat, each one with a brief habitat label. I wanted to scream for joy and jump around like a kid in a candy store. There are songs of savannah sparrows, red-bellied woodpeckers, chickadees, a few different owls, and plenty of other species I didn't yet identify because I instead tried to picture myself walking through these habitats. I'm now having a good laugh that my favorite habitat track right now is labelled as 'Florida Wetlands.' I would think I'd have more enjoyment listening to one that seems more close to home (such as 'Afternoon Forest'). And before I forget, there's even a thunderstorm in one track. While my blog is typically advertising free (besides me mentioning Wild Birds Unlimited here and there because that store ROCKS), feel free to glimpse the CD I'm talking about here: http://www.tranquilitymusic.us/products.htm It's amusing to see it is the ONLY nature CD there without music.

Recalling 2009

2010-01-01T16:43:00.002-05:00

I don't really truly recognize January 1st as my New Year. My New Year comes the first day in early spring (usually around the Chinese New Year, which this year falls on Valentine's Day) when the scent of soft brown earth is on the air, the breeze no longer makes your eyes water, and the faint memory of running around playing with bubbles comes back. This is before the robins sing and the tulips bloom.

But alas, my nature friends are revisiting their nature haunts throughout 2009 and I couldn't resist. It was my first year truly birding, my first year really spending much of my free time out rambling around, enjoying the wild. And the great memories that come back are too awesome to not make honorable mentions:

- my first true bird presentation, for plenty of third graders who were visiting Moreau Lake with their schools, absolutely a great opportunity

- all the full moon hikes at Moreau, usually attended by my nature buddy Sue, with Environmental Educator Dave checking out all sorts of stuff to show everyone who couldn't keep up with speed-demon Naturalist Gary. Highlights of these include Gary doing a crow call and a mob coming in bringing a scarlet tanager with it, a truly dark walk, enjoying the scenery of the moon from the footbridge, weird noises Sue and I tried to scope out over the lake one night, and all the times other Dave cooked delicious hot dogs

- making the new lakeside trail with the boy scouts

- Wilton Wildlife Preserve birding with Rich Speidel and a group of seasoned birders - possibly the best birding trip I've had so far, as he has intense patience and was excited to help me see some lifers and took the time to go exploring with me to find them

- other WWPP birding, especially hearing and seeing Eastern Towhees for the first time ever (seeing my first Karner Blue butterfly hit the spot too, and long summer afternoons of resting near the open field listening to field sparrows)

- all of my solo hikes in Moreau Lake - highlight was shadbush up top of CP trail inundated with cedar waxwings, 1000' up!

- seeing other new sites right in the local area, such as the Glen Lake fen, Pilot Knob Ridge, Cole's Woods

- tasting many plants I have never tried before - wintergreen berries! Snacking on jewelweed seeds, sassafras, birch...

- Trailapalooza 2009 with Sue P. and Jackie D. - so much win

- meeting nature lovers and new friends Sue and Jackie and learning so much from both and seeing things I've never seen before with them (like frostweed!), enjoying long chats with Dave A., meeting other nature nuts briefly on my walks and discussing what has been seen

- so many hours of watching bird behavior and getting to know the feathered citizens better due to that. You don't really know birds until you see them sunning, fighting each other, wolfing down berries so quickly that their entire faces get covered with juice, and freaking out because a bee is nearby...and missing them when they go on vacation just as you would human neighbors. You don't really truly know your local area until you get to know the more wild side of it.

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Another huge plus this year was getting to see many bird species I had not previously seen and learning plenty of bird songs. I tallied up the species I saw in 2009 (take note: this is not my LIFE list, but a YEAR list) and my list totaled 93 species just for a 30 mile radius. Highlights:

- the one common loon I saw a few times swimming around Moreau Lake. An ethereal sighting. Did not sing till one day with Sue and Dave on Spring Overlook trail which gave me goosebumps.

- the juvenile double-crested cormorant I saw on the Hudson River off Betar Byway this autumn...the best fisher I have ever seen.

- a great egret hiding in the quiet, still marshy pond off Bog Meadow Trail.

- the green herons, osprey, and belted kingfisher that made Delegan Pond in Wilton a fantastic birding spot this summer.

- wood ducks and more belted kingfishers hanging around Mud Pond this autumn.

- the whistle of the broad-winged hawk throughout summer.

- recent adult bald eagle sighting in SGF with Sue!

- a spring merlin couple in Oneonta in their town park, seeing one of the individuals tearing apart a nestling of another species

- hearing red-bellied woodpeckers throughout summer and eventually figuring out the strange song belonged to them

- seeing a likely pregnant female yellow-bellied sapsucker on one of my first-ever trips in Moreau, in the woods near the beach/playground

- my first blue-headed vireo sitting two feet in front of my face on Western Ridge trail and then disappearing, only to defecate on my head

- all brown creepers. Always. <3

- finding out that Carolina wren populations here are actually higher than I was once told, enjoying describing their wide variety of songs with Sue, including renaming it the Belushi bird hearing it sing "Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger!"

- my first time hearing the amazingly long song of a winter wren, pointed out by Sue while on Spring Overlook trail with Dave

- all blue-gray gnatcatchers in Moreau Lake

- all eastern bluebirds and their mournful songs

- all wood thrush, veery, ovenbird, and hermit thrush songs (and seeing that wintering hermit thrush recently), making the wet woods of this area dreamy and of another world

- gray catbirds for being the most hilarious bird

- northern mockingbirds being such earworms with their ability to copy so many songs and human-made noises

- while all the warblers I saw were wonderful, the most notable was hearing a prairie warbler in the power-line corridor at Moreau Lake and people not believing me for months after

- field sparrow, savannah sparrow, meadowlark, and R2D2 bobolink songs making hot, long summer days much more enjoyable

- broken tape-recorder white-throated sparrow songs in late fall, witnessed by Jackie, Sue and I on Trailapalooza

- the pine siskin irruption that lasted shortly into the beginning of 2009. I miss those birds dearly.

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One last thing to note is that 2009 was a continuation of the reminder that nature can seriously make you ill, maim you, and possibly kill you. The increased spread and explosion of populations of ticks has concerned and terrified me. I remember the days when one could lay in the grass and not even know what a tick was because they weren't around here. This summer I was bitten almost a dozen times and fought off another bout of Lyme Disease. May you all enjoy 2010 with increased applications of permethrin to your clothing.

To another year of happy birding, hiking, rambling, and nature blogging!

Thanks, Cold Front

2009-12-29T19:50:00.002-05:00

This is my first winter birding, and the only thing that has been persistent through it has been the unexpected. Not that this is unusual up here near the Adirondacks in this season - the weather can change as quickly as it does in summer on the east end of Lake Erie. But seeing birds out of season, in odd spots, likely due to quickly moving bad storms displacing them has been a pleasant, though sometimes concerning surprise. Also, the weather doesn't really allow for planning ahead. Sue P. and I agreed a few days ago to get together this morning with Jackie D. for a little nature walk on the Betar Byway. I expected something like overcast skies and maybe flurries, since it's been snowing a lot lately.

Nope, instead a cold front rips through, with clear skies, a painfully bright winter sun, and bitter gusts of wind up to 50 mph with a windchill of -15*F that made your eyes water. Sue called me before meeting mentioning cutting it short and hitting up the Peppermill. I was down, so she contacted Jackie.

I got to the Betar Byway (off Beach Road entrance) first, being totally excited that I finally had some time with buddies to scout for birds and possibly plants not completely massacred by the brutal weather. As soon as I pulled in and put it in park, I spotted a large bird flying in from Route 9 direction, over the small pool at the Public Works building, and landing on a snag on the other side. I thought, "Hmm...I really doubt that's a heron, but what could that possibly be?" It landed, and I saw the bright white tail and head, and nearly screamed for joy. An adult bald eagle! I grabbed my binoculars, jumped out of the car, and saw in clear view the yellow-orange hooked huge bill, yellow-orange talons, and the dark chocolate-y brown almost black solid body of feathers. It had also raised the ire of some American crows, which flew right at it's head. The eagle seemed to take no notice, sitting there patiently, looking around. I looked again and again, thinking I was maybe dreaming, till Sue came along and I exclaimed to her what I was seeing. The eagle eventuallly grew tired of being harassed and flew off south down the side of the river.

It was unfortunately way too cold for us three to tolerate the wind for long and we headed off for a good chat and some food and drink at the Peppermill, one of my favorite spots in the area. I also got a surprise gift from Sue, a collection of Thoreau's journal entries on birds! I couldn't be happier for some great reading.

We did head back and tried to enjoy a short 15-20 minute walk north on the Betar Byway, and at points I completely forgot that it was cold. One of them being seeing a surprise hermit thrush in plain view, feathers all bunched up, sitting in the sun. It moved around a bit so I got to see all potential identification features it has, including the rufous tail contrasting with it's duller brown uppersides, blackish spots smaller than those of a wood thrush, and the strange dipping behavior - a quick upswing and then slowly lowering it again. I could not believe my eyes. I knew the thrushes should really only be around here during the breeding season, not the dead of winter. Why now? Did it stay? Did it get lost? Did it get stuck in the recent crazy storms across the United States? Birds by Bent claims sightings in New England of this species is not unusual on the coldest of winter days. That doesn't change the stange, dream-like appearance of it flying into my sightline.

Birder With No Toleration for Winter

2009-12-15T02:03:00.003-05:00

I have a tendency not to write entries that are even remotely off-topic from birding, but I noticed my entries have been not so forthcoming in the past few months. Of course, the time change and much, much shorter days do not help, as I was doing quite a bit of birding in the late afternoon. But I have also been feeling horrible since mid-October. Needing to sleep 8-9 hours a night and tossing and turning through odd vivid dreams and nightmares and waking up exhausted anyway, feeling mildly awake for about 3 hours and then being tired again by 4 PM and seriously needing a nap by 8 PM...lack of concentration, a ruination of memory, irritability, bouts of seriously intense inner rage, boredom, anxiety, depression, less desire for socialization, constantly hungry for carbs, always cold no matter what...really kills my ability to get up early to go out and enjoy what little sunlight we have and to be fascinated by the colors and sounds and behaviors of our winter birds. I sit here nodding off at my laptop over a book or bowl of food around dinnertime and am unable to function for the rest of the evening and night (unless I'm at work, and my evening job is easy as pie). Emails sit in the inbox for days and I forget they are even there sometimes. Minor errands and chores not getting done for days because I have no energy and no motivation. I dread Christmas as I have not even begun shopping because I can't drag myself to the store and the mental energy needed to decide gifts is too much. I feel like I'm drowning in a deep brain fog...

*shakes first at the sky*

Is it spring yet?

Birding in a Snowstorm

2009-12-13T17:43:00.002-05:00

If you ever get the chance, go birding at the beginning of a snowstorm. I forgot the science behind bird movement and fronts and low pressure systems, but bird activity was crazy today with birds trying to find shelter and food. I decided to stop by the Betar Byway since it's along the Hudson River and figured the waterfowl would be out as well. Just...bring gloves with you. I did not...my hands were so stiff and red within 10 minutes! It didn't help that it was probably 25 degrees. Also bring something to keep wiping your binoculars off with, since the flakes will be sticking to them. :)

The American crows were out in full-force and I think I undercounted at only 12. I'm pretty sure another flock moved in further down the river. Six ring-billed gulls looked like they were fully enjoying themselves, swimming around on the Hudson. At the end of my walk I saw two adult gulls with a juvenile, and wondered if it was the mom and dad and teen gull family I saw not long ago at Hovey Pond. Four mallards flew over at some point and I later saw two adult males and two adult females swimming in pairs. I only counted three blue jays bouncin around quietly in the branches. Lately I've been getting a kick out of how I can never see their eyes, always hidden by a branch. Out of sight, out of mind?

The female downy woodpecker searching diligently for food on a trunk was a great sight. A white-breasted nuthatch was just below her, running circles around the trunk and then straight down about a foot. I saw two more white-breasteds further down.

I was pleased with seeing many of the popular winter birds all around the same area today. I counted about 11 black-capped chickadees, 4 tufted titmice (both species of birds people tend to describe as drab and bland grey in color, but all I noticed was the orange-y and creamy yellows they have), and 4 dark-eyed juncos. I was also completely fascinated with the picture-perfect view of a bright red and black male northern cardinal sitting in the open on a perch, chipping away, with the snow falling all around him. I later counted 5 more hiding and chipping. Two American goldfinches flew overhead at some point.

The river and riparian habitat was really busy in this storm. I spotted a pair of hooded mergansers quietly allowing the flowing river to carry them north. There were three unidentifiable ducks, and from my view looked possibly like American black ducks. They were certainly in the vicinity, I watched 10 of them standing in the only part of the inlet that was not frozen. One section near the river got about 20 noisy American robins that refused to sit on any perch for more than a few seconds. They kept calling a loud, sharp "tut tut!" A flock of 15-20 cedar waxwings stopped nearby for about a minute before flying off back across the river. A female pileated woodpecker clung to a tree and hammered away at an already fairly deep hole. Another woodpecker nearby, which I could not ID, had a softer, shorter, yet very rapid steady rhythm.

Just before the snow actually began to fall, I was surprised by about 150 Canada geese flying southwest overhead, over the river. I would not doubt that they were headed to Moreau.

I took an extremely brisk walk back up the Byway, hoping to not have to drive on the roads when slippery and by the time I got near the entrance, I was bombarded by the sounds of about 30 house sparrows moving in. It was a little odd hearing the sounds of spring and summer on one of our most winter-y days.

December 8 - Moreau Lake, after first snowfall!

2009-12-13T17:18:00.002-05:00

December 7th was apparently the official first day of winter in my area, as it was the day of our first small yet wintery snowfall. I decided to enjoy the "back way" around Moreau Lake on such a sunny (but bitterly cold) day.

Anyway, it's list time! This was a great day for birding, and writing out the entire walk (I made it all the way out to Mud Pond and back around the main path by the Nature Center) would take soooo long. Here's what I heard and/or saw:

6 American goldfinches
3 tufted titmice
10 white-breasted nuthatches
3 red-breasted nuthatches
3 blue jays
52 black-capped chickadees
45 Canada geese flyover from Rt 9 area to land by first phragmites stand
3 ducks flying away, possibly mallards
hooded merganser pair...I was hearing gulping sounds from the lake at first, and unfamiliar with the call, it sounded like bullfrogs in summer
20 dark-eyed juncos
6 male mallards, 7 female mallards
3 American black ducks - you may note I was having some trouble telling them apart from mallards, but this time I got to see both species side-by-side in the bright sun, and it was obvious. The black ducks were much darker, duller, had grey faces and that dark grey crown. Mallard females have a really robust-chestnut or rufous brown on them compared! The black ducks also had bright yellow bills and the mallards had orange.
1 male American black duck x mallard hybrid
red-tailed hawk - I seemed to have spooked the hawk from it's perch in a tree in the camping area, as it flew off, causing me to gasp with wonder and amazement, and then it called! It was the highlight of this trip for me.
1 golden-crowned kinglet - I never found it, but heard it calling. I am not all that familiar with these birds, but have spent plenty of time listening to their calls so I'd be familiar, and the call with right on.
4 mourning doves
250 canada geese sitting in a row on the lake by the phrag stand when they were finally finished flying in overhead. It was a sight to see, and you could hear them no matter where you were around the lake.
1 northern cardinal
1 female common merganser swimming on the lake by herself

I had a good laugh watching a chickadee sitting in some reeds. It probably thought it was getting good shelter from the trees hanging over, but the breeze was blowing and the branches still had snow on them...the chickadee who was diligently watching me got hit in the head by falling snow! It shook it's head, looked all around, called "chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee" and then flew off. I was also psyched in this area to find muskrat scat on a large rock. A book I have calls it a "post office" which I find amusing.

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Also notable, and this happens every time when I come back up from Moreau Lake State Park, I saw about 25 rock doves sitting on the wires at the Exit 18 corridor. They are completely undisturbed by the high level of traffic going on under them.

November 29 - 4 Part Birding in Only 4 Hours

2009-12-13T16:38:00.002-05:00

On November 29th I was on a birding roll. I was worried it would be one of the last "nice" days of the winter, one with little snow on the ground. Looks like I was right, so I'm glad I did this.

First stop was Ash Drive. I remember being devastated by the horrible mowing job on both sides of the Warren County Bikeway. So many beautiful dogwoods more than a year old were murdered. There's no explanation anywhere for why this happened, and it seems completely senseless to me. I looked at some of the other woody plants/small trees in the area, and it was quite clear that the mowing done in such a destructive manner had not happened in this area in recent years passed. I really hate humans sometimes...

However, it was quite cold and clear that morning, and birding was not all that great. I spent more time looking at the trees, trying to ID some using what I had read so far in the Sibley Guide. I did catch sight of an adult mallard pair swimming around in the marsh. A pair of American goldfinches sang "potato chip" as they flew overhead. An American crow called in the distance...about eight black-capped chickadees came out to see what was going on. I heard three white-breasted nuthatches calling from tree trunks. About seventeen blue jays came flying in at one point, possibly as a mob, and left just as quickly. I counted seven dark-eyed juncos, one with just as much chestnut-brown (mostly on the wings) as had slate-grey, which perched on eye-level branches rather than hiding in the brush as they usually do. I apparently attempted to describe their various calls in my journal. I wrote that they have a "dry chek-chek" and another call described as "a dry two-two-two." They are certainly not the most melodic birds, but I noticed today that their ringing trill sounded like cheery, tiny bells.

There are also powerlines that run overhead in this area, and for the first time I could clearly hear the electricity buzzing through them.

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I then ran off to stop at the Country Club Road parking lot to walk another portion of the badly damaged Warren County Bikeway. Upon immediate entrance, I heard three eastern bluebirds calling! They stayed hidden on the other side of a tree line, but their mournful calls were loud and clear.

This area was inundated with American crows and black-capped chickadees on this day...I counted eleven of the former, and twenty-eight of the latter. There was a group of American goldfinches at one point, about eight of them. Blue jays would periodically, extremely quietly, bounce around in the brush. I counted five. Woodpeckers are irritatingly and surprisingly difficult to see this time of year, the poor light helps them to blend into trunks...here I had two that I could hear scratching, pecking, drumming, but could not ID. I did hear a loud, sharp "KYOOOOO!!!" at one point, which in the past I have noted tends to be a northern flicker or red-bellied woodpecker (to me they sound fairly similar). Both species have been seen here. There were of course also about a dozen tufted titmice and a couple of white-breasted nuthatches, typical upstate NY winter birds.

I got quite a surprise at one point! A small brook runs along the trail here, which attracts wrens. While I was standing watching a chickadee, I hear a ringing, quick, very clear call with a dramatic pause in between the phrase in groups of three...it sounded like the bird was calling, "Figaro, figaro, figaro!" I immediately recognized it for a Carolina wren, despite not being all that familiar with this specific call. Sue P. and I actually refer to them as the Cheeseburger bird, as the ones we heard during the summer were calling what sounded like "cheeseburger" 3x in a row...a similar call, but "figaro" has more of a rolling sound.

There is great brushy habitat just past an arborvitae stand that blew me away on this day...it was full of dark-eyed juncos and white-throated sparrows! Birders I met over the past year made me think these species are shy and will hide from human contact, but I can assure you these individuals did not. One sparrow sat right out on a branch in plain view, repeatedly making a sharp, loud chip, seeming to be an alarm call alerting the more hidden individuals (about 14 others) of my presence. Three of them were not paying attention and instead snacking on blue dogwood berries. One was singing it's broken casssette sounding song. The juncos were flitting all about, saying "chek chek!" There were about 15, another one with the mix of grey and brown.

Also spotted were two house finches, both on the ground foraging and calling to each other. They were promptly scared into the trees by a group of elder humans that sounded like they were talking about further destroying the area.

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Off to Hovey Pond I went! The gardens there were still fun to adventure in even though most plants have died off. I found a few herbs still fairly fresh and smelling delicious. One mint was so strong that it resembled the menthol in Vicks VapoRub. There was also some hardy lemon balm and thyme. I also nearly screamed with glee to find some bayberry - so fragrant during the summer, and so rare up here. I also found some purple and yellow violets in perfect shape hiding in a small yew.

It was rather quiet here too, with only two black-capped chickadees. Two American goldfinches flew over, and one white-breasted nuthatch called from a tree near the marsh. Four rock doves flew over as well. Ring-billed gulls flew overhead, and an adult pair with a juvenile landed in the center of the pond and sat there for quite some time, before mom and dad flying off, leaving teen gull all by him or herself. He or she had some beautiful reddish-brown wingtips! There was also a mallard party in the marshy pond, with six adult males and two females.

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Last stop was Cole's Woods, located between the YMCA, Aviation Mall, and the Northway. It's a really neat spot, a forest crammed in the middle of a small city and large commercial area. The only drawback is being able to hear the Northway traffic in all points.

The place was loaded with black-capped chickadees - I counted 46 in all, which I noted sounded like bells that day (I walked the perimeter of the woods, by the way). There were also three dark-eyed juncos, three American goldfinches, eight white-breasted nuthatches, two tufted titmice, and three American crows. I was surprised that when I heard some scratching in a tree and looked up, a lone red-breasted nuthatch was in perfect view, as if it was just waiting to be identified. I also heard and spotted a common raven flying from the water tower to the Aviation mall. I noted that it sounded like a ring-billed gull with a sore throat.

Betar Byway - Audubon Walk

2009-11-21T18:08:00.002-05:00

This morning I forced myself out of bed at 7 AM to get to the Betar Byway by 8 AM. I will put this sentence first though it really should be near the end, but: Birding is not necessarily better early in the morning.

I found the walk to be okay...it was definitely one of the better quality ones when it came to other people attending and leader. And the Byway never seems lacking of birds, ever. Yet, I do have my complaints, however small, that lead me to believe that the best birding is done either completely alone or with someone else at the same level of obsession regarding nature. I hear birders in these groups say all the time that groups are amazing because it provides more eyes, but I really think that's not a true advantage. Better birding happens when you are a better birder, not when you combine the skills of a bunch of mediocre birders. In fact, I felt a loss of decent birding in this group while it seems the others felt a gain (except for this kid who was there). Interesting...a group just made everything average.

Well, I'll get on with the actual walk first. Maybe I will feel less compelled to post the rest of my complaints! So anyway, it was a cool, overcast morning, typical autumn weather in upstate NY. I love it. The group wound up turning out to be 5 people, not including the leader and myself, all people who are actually interested in birds. There was a kid there who has INSANE birding skills, and was fantastic at pointing them out no matter where they were hiding. He truly has some crazy talent, and should definitely lead his own walks. His dad seemed to be a fairly competent birder himself which was awesome. The other people were more around beginning stage, and I dunno what the heck was with the leader, who admitted to not being able to ID waterfowl whatsoever (and this is an Audubon person?). I was also really perturbed at her calling the obvious leucistic beautiful white squirrel that is resident to the Byway 'albino.' WTF. NO NO NO!!! I could go on for hours about how people in leadership in Audubon need way better understanding of actual science...

Onward we went, and of course, the Byway was incredibly busy. I enjoyed taking in the frosted purple hues the berry plants took on against an orange-brown background, and the brilliant reds of red osier dogwood. I missed having Sue or Jackie or both though, because I was the only one taking interest in the plants today. But the birds were apparently enjoying what was left of the berries (mostly bittersweet)! I got to watch a bright red male northern cardinal alternating between making his loud alarm chip call and wolfing down berries. He broke most of them with his bill before swallowing them down, his bill turning bright red and dripping with juice. 'CHIP!' he would call with half a berry visible from his lower mandible.

There were plenty of white-breasted nuthatches and black-capped chickadees for everyone to enjoy. No red-breasteds on this trail today, to the disappointment of almost everyone. I spotted a brown creeper right in front of us on a tree at one point, pointing it out for everyone, and was thanked profusely throughout the walk and even after, as it wound up being the only one we saw.

The mallards were not having sexytime today, at least not while we were there. Instead many of them were sitting on a log just like turtles are apt to do. One had a leucistic spot on his neck. While I did not do counts today (who could? we were moving way too quickly), I estimated about 50 mallards in all. I also got a confirmation on the American black ducks I thought I was seeing earlier this month, and there were about half a dozen swimming around.

One neat sighting today was a northern mockingbird who flitted around in the brush and then came out and sat almost at eye level on a bright orange pole in the open to stare at us, us staring back. I've heard a lot of birds talked about as being dull, yet me never finding them dull - this was definitely one dull bird! So strange for a bird with such a colorful and varied 'song.'

I noted that some trills on the trail were mistaken by others for cedar waxwings (though there was a spot that certainly had those trills) but were actually dark-eyed juncos, which I saw for myself. That is a bird that often gets called dull, but I find the contrast between the slate-gray and blank white belly beautiful.

We also had three species of woodpecker at multiple times. The Byway has plenty of downy woodpeckers making their squeaky toy call and flying around quickly. There were two hairy woodpeckers and one male's hollow hammering was so loud and rhythmic that I was mesmerized. Pileateds (the locals were saying PILL-ee-ated) were a bit more shy but at one point we had one land on a tree in front of us before flapping off over the river to hide on the other side of a fat tree. I noted that the woodpeckers seemed to have a zig-zag flight pattern, something I have never noticed before.

There were also house finches, a blue jay, American crows, American goldfinches, American robins, and a colony of ring-billed gulls that were absolutely amusing to watch. One gull had a slice of bread it was flying around with, with a bunch of gulls trying to steal the slice, calling out as if to say, "I want it!" It was interesting to watch the gulls wanting the bread to actually not fight the keeper of the slice, but rather try to cunningly maneuver close enough to take it without any warring. Unfortunately, the slice holder accidentally dropped it into the water, the bunch of gulls landing on the surface and looking down for it. They never found it, and flew off to find something else...

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A Frosty Queensbury, NY Morning

2009-11-18T15:05:00.001-05:00

This morning was bitterly cold in Warren and Washington counties, colder than it has been all week. I did not enjoy how painful the air was on my skin as I warmed my car up.

However, I did enjoy seeing the mix of adult and juvenile ring-billed gulls resting on the mowed corn field near Adirondack Community's campus. One was almost completely dark gray! For weeks now, dozens of Canada geese have enjoyed that area. Why they weren't there I wasn't sure, but about 25 gulls took their place today. I saw a lone goose standing by itself near a shallow pond on the golf course on Haviland Road, with a soft white mist in the background - it would have made a great calendar photo for November.

Third Day's a Charm - Moreau Lake

2009-11-17T13:59:00.003-05:00

So I initially was going to start out with the past two days that I spent at Moreau Lake and then write up today, but I just couldn't wait. The past two days were awful there and humans were absolutely to blame for both days of fail. I have developed a newfound insanely deep hatred for dog walkers, no exceptions. Screw birding ethics, where you're supposed to be kind to everyone you come across on trails to help make birders not look bad, when you are doing something completely against state law that ruins my ability to enjoy myself and feel comfortable in the wild, and have to hear a massive sense of entitlement and a rash of incredibly stupid excuses for the bad behavior, well, then eff you dog walkers. All of you. In fact, you should all count your lucky stars that the state park is so lenient that they do not enforce the leash law despite having plenty of signs.

But anyway, today I planned on getting together with my buddypal Sue for some dual birding (got a little lonely with the solo birding, today was supposed to be lovely weather, and I enjoy nature walks with Sue). The weather was colder than I had expected, but I am definitely not complaining, especially when Sue decided to take me to Mud Pond and show me the frostweed! She seemed disappointed that the ones we found were so small, but I was completely impressed with seeing the frozen vapor. It reminded me vaguely of midsummer cirrus clouds - neat how the seasons can seem so connected. There was also plenty of what I am mostly sure is British soldier lichen. I also found a half-buried golfball which I had too much trouble trying to dig up, so I left it there.

Back to the park office we went and walked a different way than I had been going the past few days. I quickly found that this pathway is much less ruined by rude humans and was greatly pleased. We enjoyed the sounds of plenty of white-breasted nuthatches and black-capped chickadees even right in the parking lot! Both species are pretty much everywhere in the park this time of year. We also had two brown creepers come right down a tree trunk, in plain view, at maybe knee-level in the sun to check us out. It was absolutely incredible. One flew high up near the top of the tree and let out it's high, rushed, rarely-heard melody.

Along we went, checking out everything. There were plenty of chipmunks and the occasional squirrel before we came up to where the old Fernwood mansion once was, where Sue found broken pieces of china and an old doorknob half buried in the trail. I stood there trying to picture what it must have once been like to actually live in a fancy house in the park, which I may have to include in my nice daydreams.

I must be honest, in this area I did not really bird much (besides noting a few downy woodpeckers) until we got further down the trail and could see the water as we came upon an area with a bunch of chubby American robins. They fluttered about and called many times. One robin looked erroneously colored, a dark brown down it's side and a mostly black face. It was difficult to tell whether it was being shadowed by a nearby branch or if it really had miscolored feathers. Near the robins were a bunch of dark-eyed juncos and tufted titmice, both of which I absolutely love. The tufted titmice today were letting out calls I was not too familiar with.

We eventually made it to the marshy area, where this past summer a group of us created a trail along a bunch of phrag. The wind blowing through the dried reeds sounded like rushing water and was relaxing. Off on the water by a beaver hut were four hooded mergansers, at least three of them male. The sun shining off their white patches made it looked like they were shiny metal sticking out of the water, reflecting the rays. They're amusing to watch simultaneously pop back up from a dive.

The phrag itself was busy with chickadees watching us, and a patch was chock-full of hidden red-winged blackbirds making a bubbling call.

A nearby small marshy pond was already beginning to ice over. Sue and I stopped to see if there was any activity under the ice, and sure enough we saw insects just under the surface carrying leaf bits around. Sue got ahold of one of them, and it looked as if the insect, now hiding inside, had glued together the leaf bits like a tiny makeshift sleeping bag. Both Sue and I believed them to be caddisflies, and I began thinking back to a stream ecology course I had where we talked about shredders, collectors, filterers, caddisflies, stoneflies, mayflies, and gathered larvae in the fall. Also not a few feet away was a grouping of about 12 snail shells, apparently with snails in them as when I tried to pull one off of where it was attached it would not budge. Near this area was a pileated woodpecker making it's extended jungle call.

Sue then showed me a great place near Mud Pond where one can sneak up on anything in the water without being seen. A bonus is that the area had quite a few wintergreen berries which we snacked on. We quietly peeked to see a beautiful hooded merganser pair floating around, the male occasionally zig-zagging in the water and slightly extending his neck. Nearby there was a much larger group of hoodeds which took off together in a group with a surprise belted kingfisher zipping across the water with it's loud rattle! I was absolutely thrilled to see her - yes, her - as I haven't seen a kingfisher in about two months now. She came back across the water again, flashing her brown vest briefly before disappearing back into the trees.

By that time it was time to head back due to our crazy work schedules. I did very little birding on the way back and instead enjoyed nature-y discussions with Sue. I was quietly elated to have had such a great nature walk, and I think this was one of the best I have had with Sue. And I will now be back to Moreau sooner than I had planned, knowing I now have a quieter path to walk in these cool months.

What One Might See in Winter in Eastern Upstate NY

2009-11-10T23:07:00.003-05:00

A question was posed at Moreau Lake this past weekend that piqued my curiosity and inspired me to pull out a spreadsheet I made this past spring. It began out of my need to have a list of all birds I might see in all seasons in the three counties I regularly visited in upstate New York, those being Washington, Warren, and Saratoga counties. The list was first created using the DEC's Breeding Bird Atlas, then organized in taxonomic order based on the AOU list. I arbitrarily decided whether the species had a big, medium, or small population and whether it was increasing, decreasing, or staying about the same by comparing the distribution maps (1980-1985 map with 2000-2005 map). I then determined what season one would see each species by comparing range maps in 4 or 5 different field guides, including Peterson's and Sibley.

What you are about to see is the list of birds one potentially might see in Warren, Saratoga, and Washington counties in upstate NY in the winter (yes, this includes both those that are here year-round and those that migrate here in the winter months), organized by those arbitrary population sizes. The list under each population size runs by taxonomic order.

At the end you will find a heading "Not in BBA." For whatever reason, the species has inconclusive data in the DEC's Breeding Bird Atlas, thus I was unable to determine an arbitrary population size, but field guides show that the bird has a winter or year-round range in those counties of NY. Notes on the population size that I have included come from Peterson's and/or Sibley field guides.

HIGH POPULATION
canada goose
mallard
ruffed grouse
wild turkey
red-tailed hawk
american kestrel
ring-billed gull
rock pigeon
mourning dove
belted kingfisher
downy woodpecker
hairy woodpecker
northern flicker
pileated woodpecker
blue jay
american crow
black-capped chickadee
tufted titmouse
white-breasted nuthatch
eastern bluebird
american robin
european starling
cedar waxwing
song sparrow
dark-eyed junco
northern cardinal
common grackle
purple finch
house finch
american goldfinch
house sparrow

MEDIUM POPULATION
american black duck
common merganser
hooded merganser
ring-necked pheasant
sharp-shinned hawk
cooper's hawk
eastern screech owl
great horned owl
barred owl
common raven
red-breasted nuthatch
brown creeper
northern mockingbird
white-throated sparrow
pine siskin (erratic winter range - irruptions)

LOW POPULATION
mallard x american black duck hybrid
bald eagle
northern goshawk
herring gull
great black-backed gull
northern saw-whet owl (irruptions)
carolina wren
golden-crowned kinglet
red crossbill (irruptions)
white-winged crossbill (irruptions)
evening grosbeak (irruptions)

NOT IN BBA
rough-legged hawk (irruptions)
long-eared owl (uncommon)
short-eared owl (irruptions)
northern shrike (uncommon; irruptions)
american tree sparrow (fairly common)
lapland longspur (uncommon)
snow bunting (fairly common)
common redpoll (fairly common; irruptions)

Little Observations

2009-11-10T17:38:00.003-05:00

My truly intense birding has been put on hold since the Moreau bird walk from this past weekend, as after enjoying an evening on the town with Dave (from The Park), a deer apparently ran into the side of my car while I was driving, in the early morning hours, leaving Saratoga. I was hoping to get a full post up complete with photos (I know, I know, it's not bird stuff, but still related to nature), but the exhaustion of worrying about the cost of car repair, of not having the car and trying to get to and from work, and being in quite a lot of pain (muscular) from my neck to my back and through my shoulders, has put me mostly out of commission.

I did take a short walk yesterday as it was absolutely lovely outside of this time of year. I live not far from a small, quiet pond that looks more like glass than water, complete with a trail that runs alongside it and the brook that's part of it, where I had previously witnessed a pudgy blue jay taking a bath and loudly making it's metallic call. This time around, I heard an unfamiliar call note eminating repeatedly from the pond and had to do some detective work. Loud, short bursts of a high-pitched whistle were carrying down the street. As I walked over, I noticed about 10-15 mallards in all parts of the pond, chasing after each other. Ahhhh, the whistling mating call of the drakes. I had never witnessed it before in person, so this was a treat. I did not witness any of them actually getting busy, however. They appeared to be flirting rather than doing anything more serious.

Also spotted at this pond was a pileated woodpecker hanging out in his or her own nicely chiseled hole in the top of a dead tree. It would peak it's head out, look around a bit, and then sneak back into the hole. A few muffled knocks made me think it was still putting some finishing touches on it's lair.

Today I tagged along with my grandmother while she ran errands in Wilton. I was in a fairly semi-comatose state, exhausted from the past few days and pain. I was still able to enjoy the ring-billed gulls that frequent the area (almost every parking lot there). I have noticed that birders often think of them as 'trash' birds and not worthy of a count, but their antics are amusing, and it seems each individual has it's own unique personality. I saw two fighting for a spot on top of a lightpost, others scattered, one bird each to each light, all facing the same direction. Closing one's eyes there, one can listen to the calls and imagine oneself is standing near the ocean for a moment. Also, I was approached by a small adult ring-billed in the parking lot, the gull walking up to me and calling. I just stood and watched in amusement, not holding onto any food, and it soon flew off to hopefully find a more willing participant in it's search for lunch. The gull reminded me of my one-legged gull buddy in Erie who would visit when I'd sit in Presque Isle State Park with a bag of Sheetz french fries, except my Erie buddy was more patient and not so demanding.

Looks like it might be a bit before I get back out there with my bins, as I cannot even raise my arm high enough to use them.

Moreau Lake Bird Walk - November 7

2009-11-09T00:42:00.003-05:00

I found out at nearly the last minute that there was a Bird Walk scheduled for this past Saturday, November 7th at Moreau Lake State Park. They have only been a recent thing, as the environmental educator there, David Alfred, and I have become closer and he has apparently respected me greatly for my obsession with birds. If I recall correctly, a previous one only wound up being David, myself, and our mutual friend Sue. I found out later that Dave really only intended this one to be him and myself, which would have been absolutely lovely, but there wound up being a small group that came along without having signed up, as I had. This did not disappoint me, except for one woman from NYC who would not stop talking (how can people go on bird walks and not understand one of the first unspoken rules is to be quiet for the most part or speak softly?) loudly and telling tall tales and outright stating lies and twisted facts. I could not help but to sarcastically correct her a few times, which made Dave chuckle. Also along was an older couple who I found out enjoyed traveling, especially to the western states, and were a birding pair. I was utterly fascinated. They told me great stories about condors and hummingbirds. They also had along this really neat little kid named Cyrus (sp?). I'm bad with ages, and I was unsure if he was their grandchild, so he was a big of an enigma to me, but this little guy had a bold personality and a streak of confidence of his knowledge of all things nature. I've been on plenty of nature walks in the park and thus have come into contact with plenty of children, but Cyrus was something else. I found him totally fascinating and enjoyed having him along. It was fun watching him get psyched over the enormous red oak leaves and collect a few to bring back with him to his classes. Dave took us around to the back bay after realizing birding was completely failing to go check out some beaver damage (which in itself was totally impressive - I loved being able to see the marks made by each individual tooth) and I had an awesome little moment with the little guy. We stood at the edge of the back bay, and I let him tell me what he knew about what we were seeing. He talked about the minnows swimming around near our feet, and identified the willow tree above us that had littered the ground completely with lancelet-shaped bright yellow leaves. We even just enjoyed the scenery in silence for a bit before rejoining the tiny group. It restored some of my faith in humanity and the potential for younger generations to really appreciate nature. I'm reinspired to put together some more bird presentations for the kids for the spring and summer.

So back to the birding being fail. I can assure you that this is not due to true suckage of the area. Moreau Lake even lately has been fantastic for birding - there have been both common mergansers and hooded mergansers on the lake, diving, for honorable mentions. We checked out the gravelpits, which is great habitat for grouse and turkeys. It was quiet except for some blue jays. And while the other people in the group didn't seem too impressed with Loop A, Dave and I were fairly fascinated by how many white-breasted and red-breasted nuthatches we were hearing. He even briefly tested out some new birding tech the park recently received, something quite similar to ibird Explorer for the iphone. I was a bit envious - I've had so many times in the wild where I wished I had mp3s to play of birdsong to help in identification. Dave enjoyed showing me this neat little piece of tech, and I encouraged him to play me a couple of warbler calls that I miss. He got to test out whether the nuthatch calls would actually receive a response from the real ones in the trees nearby, a joy to every beginning birder (though anyone who knows the birding ethics laid out there somewhere knows that playing callbacks is a big birding no-no if used often) and I was overjoyed that he got to hear that they do. I was a bit sad that he (and the rest of the group) missed out on spotting the brief view I had of a brown creeper which Dave was really hoping to find on this walk.

The back bay for birds was not so interesting to me, as it's a quiet, small pond-like spot that attracts my least favorite birding bird, the mallard. There were plenty there swimming around, quacking briefly. There was also the dreaded couple that has haunted me on my last few birding trips in the park, which I suspect is a pair of mallard x black duck hybrids. They are nearly impossible for me to ID confidently, but they absolutely look like a halfway between the two species. I keep pretending I don't really see them, and they pretend that they have nothing to do with mallards, as they totally avoid all of them. Renegades.

I can't help it, but one of my favorite parts of the nature walks is when everyone but the diehards leave. I love seeing them go. It is not the elitist in me, it is just the part of me that sees that they do not have quite the passion for nature as those of us who linger do. And this time I stayed just to chat with Dave for quite some time about everything environmentalism. It was awesome and fascinating. Those post-walk chats with him are one of my favorite parts of those nature walks in Moreau.

Upcoming: It's not exactly bird-related, but I'm thinking of sharing my harrowing experience of having a deer run into the side of my car and causing quite a bit of damage. It really drove home how much we encroach upon the environment, not only to the detriment of wildlife, but potentially to ourselves. Oh, and there might be photos! ;)

RUTland, VT - November 3rd

2009-11-09T00:00:00.002-05:00

I am not sure what possessed me to take that rather bleary, cold Tuesday to drive an hour out to Rutland (which I found to be sarcastically referred to as "Rut-vegas" by locals). I knew I needed a getaway day, a short road trip not much over an hour, and new birding areas for the day. The Vermont Audubon website looked promising and mentioned a few areas around Rutland that are not being run by the hunters at this moment. I was excited.

I threw some day-hiking stuff in my car (granola bars, a full thing of water, my trusty hiking boots, extra warm clothing, maps) and took right off. The drive out there is lovely if you go through Granville, NY and Poultney, VT. There is nothing overly stunning about the drive, but it's quiet, you have nature with you the entire way, and you start seeing the scenery change a bit as you start driving near slate quarries.

My first stop was Castleton State College, located quite a jaunt back west from Rutland down Vermont 4A. Seriously, Castleton is in the middle of nowhere. I was shocked, considering all the junk mail I've received from them making it sound like Castleton was a neat, hopping little college. I hit up campus around 11:15 AM, a time when I remembered that my old stomping grounds SUNY Oneonta would be chock-full of students. I think I saw maybe 7 walking around at Castleton, and only one was friendly. The campus is pretty, but rather small, and looked just like any SUNY campus, so I was not impressed as it held nothing new for a SUNY alum. I stopped into the Campus Center, and was mostly ignored by the two hipsters at the desk when asking for directions to a bathroom.

So why Castleton? Because it is the northern terminus for the Delaware & Hudson Rail Trail, which was recommended to me back in April by a coworker who lives near the southern terminus. The trailhead is clearly marked and you can see it from the road, but finding the actual trail took a bit of work till I saw a jogger make his way down. I actually started birding right on campus - Castleton strangely had a few ring-billed gulls flying around the parking lots, one individual sitting on top of a light to peer down at me for a bit.

To make a long story short, the D&H trail at the northern terminus was nothing exciting. In fact, I was really disappointed. It takes quite a bit to get off-campus, as the trail runs alongside the athletic fields. Then as soon as you get away from that, to your left instead of getting any forest, you get a large expansive grouping of farmhouses with mowed fields scattered with gathered hay (I like to call them "hayballs" and I'm not sure there's an actual word for them). At least in the fall season, this is horrid birding habitat, except that there was either a Sharpie or Cooper's that quickly flew over the farmlands, but didn't stick around for me to ID it. Along the rail trail, I did get some American crows, one blue jay, plenty of black-capped chickadees, one white-breasted nuthatch, a couple of tufted titmice, two American goldfinches, and a diligently foraging female hairy woodpecker. Not really all that much to write home about. I did note that there were absolutely no leaves on any deciduous trees, which I found impressive, because back here in Warren and Saratoga counties we still have had deciduous trees with green leaves or brilliant yellows and oranges. Autumn hit western Vermont before it hit us. Oh, I also spotted a hippy on a bicycle who was kind to me as he passed.

I hightailed it out of there, disappointed. I relaxed to some EQX while driving east on Vermont 4A to get to what seemed a much more promising spot, the West Rutland Marsh. I was expecting a tiny little thing surrounded by privately owned houses, considering that many wetlands are encroached upon just like I just mentioned. Oh how I was surprised when I drove up Marble Road/Street, a strange, wide backroad that is entirely white. It is quite secluded out there, and the marsh is enormous, a huge rectangle at the base of a grouping of mountains, chock-full of cattails and some phrag further north. The main entrance that includes a boardwalk was quite inviting to birders, with a tree full of homemade feeders, plenty of reading material posted, and a mailbox with a notebook to write who you were, where you came from, and any comments and sightings you had, which I enjoyed making my own entry in. The boardwalk in my eyes was a great idea - I got to stand in the middle of the cattail marsh and just listen and look. It was blustery at that point and looked like snow, so of course there were no birds in the marsh at the time, but it was no loss. I also did get to hear a common raven in the distance, and it's low harsh call being the only sound at the time gave me goosebumps. I later found out the area is a great spot to sight Virginia rails, soras, American bitterns, and least bitterns during the breeding season, and despite that my trip to Rutland was full of fail-birding, I will be back just for this place at some point.

However, my birding adventure there was soon to be interrupted by a young redneck with a rifle, who pulled his car up right at the boardwalk entrance. I got the creeps right off, but he got out of his car, kept his distance from this young lady from New York, and kindly asked if my car was mine and if I had seen anybody on the other side of the road. The other side of the road contained some odd trails and what looked to be an old fallen-apart building, none of which enticed me. I soon found out that area is frequently used for shooting practice, as this young man went off into the trees up there and started shooting away, which ruined my birding there. I was stunned and a little perturbed that an Audubon sanctuary would allow such activity right there. I again high-tailed it out of there, after taking a mile walk up Marble, only to find tons of litter of empty bullet boxes strewn by the marsh edge. Disgusting. I wondered why the local birders did not enforce rules there or even cleaned the area up there themselves.

I didn't expect my next birding stop to be very successful, as it is an area of short trails located behind the Diamond Run Mall, a new commercial craphole located in southern Rutland. Apparently this section of trails was made and is maintained by the mall itself, but Vermont Audubon lists it as part of it's site as well. All I can tell you is that it was the most awful spot for birding I have ever visited. No part of those trails is far enough out to not get the highway and mall traffic noise, and the forested area there is just devoid of life whatsoever. I couldn't figure out quite why it may be failing to sustain wildlife, but it definitely does. I was a little happy that I did see a pileated woodpecker near a tiny boardwalk that covered what the mall claims is a little wetland (more like a joke of one). It saddened me that this was all Rutland seemed to have to share with the public for birding (though I know there's some nearby state parks or forests that are currently used for hunting that may be better). I stood in the midst of these trails and closed my eyes and pictured Moreau Lake State Park and felt so incredibly thankful that I have had that all year to adventure in and see so many new things.

Drained, dehydrated, and disappointed, I decided it was just time for food and liquid instead of more birding. I was ready to get out of Rutland ASAP after filling my stomach. I parked, probably illegally, in a plaza lot so that I didn't have to pay to park downtown and walked into the downtown area to find that by 3 PM, many of the cafes were closed. I did find one that was still opened and seemed really inviting to the granola crowd even from it's outside decor, the Back Home Again cafe. In I walked to find a really strangely decorated place, as if it was trying to be a tropical rainforest while playing cutesy leprechaun-image-inducing Irish music. The women were dressed in a style similar to that of the Amish I've seen in PA, and were extremely timid and submissive. The cafe completely pimped out some Yerba Mate tea, which I thought odd. I ordered myself what would be the most expensive and absolutely awful turkey wrap I have ever had in my life, and again, high-tailed it out of there soon after wolfing down the waste. I would return to NY only to find out the cafe is run by the Twelve Tribes cult, potentially as a front to their real mission, to recruit unsuspecting idealistic young new members.

Rutland, why must you be so strange, with your cult-run cafe, economically-ruined downtown, crappy commercial areas, and the most horrible birding I've experienced in my life?

Update To Be Soon

2009-11-07T00:39:00.003-05:00

Sorry everyone, I have been slacking! I just wanted to let you know I'm still breathing, still birding, and that I will have an update soon, or maybe a few, as I might be birding tomorrow. But earlier this week I adventured out to Rutland, Vermont, for fail-birding, which I will talk about soon enough. Heck, I think I might even have travel tips and I did find a great spot out there that I will talk about that apparently hosts rails, soras, and bitterns during breeding season! I found nothing of the sort of course, but the imagery of the nature of the area was stunning.

Soon...

Moreau Lake - Mergansers No Buntings

2009-11-01T21:57:00.002-05:00

Birding the morning after partying hard (yay Halloween!) is...um...interesting, and a bit difficult. I didn't quite have the wide-ranging spacial skills as I usually do, and probably missed a few individuals.

So anyway, today's weather was beautiful, and probably a little unseasonably warm. I was out in a t-shirt at one point, which is very odd for upstate New York in November. I was pleased.

Where did I bird? My wonderful second home, Moreau Lake State Park. I'm quite certain the last time I took the path I took today way back in the early spring, and I welcomed revisiting the slow wander along the road to the Nature Center like it was an old buddy. And I actually did get to welcome a buddy when I got to the parking lot near the park office! As soon as I got out of my car and made my way to that road, a familiar car slowly rolled nearby and when I looked up, I realized it was Sue! I was absolutely overjoyed, loving the fact that two nature-loving friends decided to visit the same general area on the same day, at the same time. I am excitedly awaiting her post on her hopefully lovely ramble!

I will get this out of the way, so that it doesn't ruin the rest of my entry, but I was really disappointed today to not see any of the snow buntings that have recently been sighted, apparently near the Fishing Bridge. I can think of two potential reasons for this, one being that it may simply have been too nice out for them (is that possible for birds? are there species that dislike nice weather?), the other is the high traffic on said bridge by very loud, annoying, rude dog walkers that have no sense of keeping one's voice lowered and allowing people who actually went to the park to enjoy nature as it should be, to enjoy it. I know it's some sort of birder's ethic code to not be mean to the nonbirders to give birders a good name in general, but I can't help but to think maybe someone should be telling ungrateful nonbirders to shut up and stop ruining natural areas for everyone else. But anyway, no snow buntings...I'm determined to see these mysterious little cute birds.

Anyhow, one major great thing I noticed is that Moreau Lake is full of woodpeckers this time of year. I couldn't go far without running across another, and I had at least two different species (pileated and downy), and I'm positive that there's hairys and sapsuckers. I find them amusing and impressive to watch. The pileated I saw was on a tree right by the road, unfazed by cars and humans, though watchful. It hammered away at all angles of the circumference of the trunk, the amplitude of the sound surprisingly loud. Today was the first time I noticed that some pileateds have a long red mustachial stripe, which looks at once both classy and cartoonish. One of the downys that I spotted was apparently attempting to destroy the Nature Center's nest box, as it wouldn't stop banging away at every angle of it, including from the inside-out.

There were also, of course, plenty of white-breasted nuthatches. Don't let the high numbers of them in this area during winter let you think of them as a boring common bird that you should just ignore. They are great fun to watch with their strange crawling and hopping upside-down on trunks, and I love the "ahnk ahnk ahnk" or "yenk yenk yenk" calls they rapidly give out when you get nearby. Become absolutely familiar with this call, because when you finally hear the much less common red-breasted nuthatch, the red-breasted will immediately stand out to you. The red-breasted call is clearer (less hoarse), more high-pitched, and squeakier sounding. I had this happen to me today and got to see a white-breasted chase a red-breasted in rapid spirals up a trunk, both of them calling loudly and rapidly. There were plenty of other individuals of both species nearby seemingly yelling out for them to stop.

The blue jays were surprisingly quiet today, and I realized their short flights resemble the light, breezy falling of dying leaves from the trees they were hiding in. I feel like they are the keepers of the forests, always watching any intruders. I have often looked up at a tree only to see the contortionist blue jay peering over a branch at me, one eye pointed straight down. Black-capped chickadees are like little messenger minions in cahoots with the blue jays, merrily dancing around the branches while staying hidden behind the leaves still attached, laughing at you. You may notice the incredibly high counts I get of them in other places I bird in, but they seem to have a smaller population in Moreau Lake.

The unfortunately named tufted titmouse was also present today, though I only counted four. Moreau Lake individuals seem shy; I could not attract them with my squirrel call and I unfortunately did not have anything that could play death metal in the park (one summer I found that every time I'd listen to metal with the bedroom window open the titmice would come up to the screen and call as loudly as possible...wonder what kind of music they do enjoy).

There were a few leftover American goldfinches in flight overhead at one point, though I only counted three. Yes, they are a species you can see year-round here, but it seems as though the populations shift with changing food availability.

The lake was much more exciting than the road itself today, and I spent more time overlooking the water. There was a possible eagle/osprey in flight so high overhead that I could make out no colorations or true shape, so I must do the one thing that is quite painful for all birders to do: to say, "I have no idea what that species was." Ouch.

Also on the lake was a long line of Canada geese close to the shore where humans couldn't get to. They stayed there for the two hours that I walked, quiet almost the entire time with the occasional honk. They looked as if they were simply enjoying the warm day, lazily floating around. Near them I caught an extremely exciting and fun sight of five female common mergansers also in a line, diving completely under the surface and coming back up maybe half a minute later. I'm not sure if they were fishing, because they spent most of their time above water flapping their wings and nearly standing on the surface, or preening. Sometimes they would play follow the leader, where the first in line dove first, then the second, then third, and so on. Sometimes the line would begin from the last duck. And sometimes it was completely random. But they did not dive in a group formation, only as a line! When not preoccupied with diving, they would appear to look for each other, making sure they didn't lose anyone.

There were also mallards that kept flying off, and I counted nine total. I suspect that there may have also been two American black duck x mallard hybrids, or just the typical American black duck, but those two just did not look right in the conditions they were in, and so I ran away from them pretending I never saw them at all. Take that, mutant ducks! As a birder, I can finally tell you that my least favorite bird sightings are the mallards, especially in their domesticated forms, as they are an absolute pain for identification, making one think for half a second that one may be seeing a rare species, only to find out it's just another one of those ducks that will mate with almost anything.

And so that concludes my not-so-successful birding ramble for this morning, with no luck in finding the elusive snow bunting, and nearly crapping my pants at this monsterously oversized poodle coming right at me at the Fishing Bridge. All those dog walkers were the reason I screamed with glee on the inside that it appears that they have yet to find the semi-secret new trails I helped carve out with the Boy Scouts this summer.

Indian Summer on Betar Byway

2009-10-25T13:50:00.002-04:00

Earlier this morning I wandered on over to the SGF Betar Byway, having no idea what birds I might see. All I cared about at first was just how comfortable the temperature of the air was, and the subtle warm breeze blowing in my face. It was a nice break from the bitterly cold weather typical of the Northeast this time of year.

The Byway, unfailing in blowing my mind with the diversity it holds, excited me greatly. I did not have to walk far to find a large flock of all sorts of species! From the start of the path (behind the American Legion - stop now at the little nature kiosk/plaque as there's some useful postings of birds one may see, including the common goldeneye) one could hear the intensely loud, manic repetitions of a northern mockingbird. How exciting! It seemed to be in spring mode, repeating those familiar songs 3x one would hear in May here. It sat nearby in a shrub, eyeing me intently, and I noted that it made me think vaguely of a cuckoo with it's tail slightly longer than it's body. There is also what I call the "half-tree," rising taller than a dead stump but no longer a tree, either. It is full of holes. Those holes today were full of eastern bluebirds, who were very busy flitting about and calling mournfully and quietly. Lately they sound like they are calling out sadly due to the decay of summer and spring that comes certainly with autumn. There were also three purple finches which I noted looked as if someone dumped little buckets of magenta paint on some pine siskins, the paint dripping down their heads, breasts, and bellies. A lone dark-eyed junco raced around the bare branches in this area, and a few tufted titmice showed up right in front of my binoculars seemingly out of nowhere to stare right back into them. A downy woodpecker and a male hairy woodpecker raced around their own trunks seeking the last few insects.

Near this grouping of open trees there is a shore marsh that during the summer months is home to plenty of red-winged blackbirds and many visiting tree swallows. There were still red-winged blackbirds just as territorial, and an almost neon-red male northern cardinal who seemed to be trying to desparately to blend in, with no luck. Two other cardinals were off on the other side of the Byway, calling, hidden in the shriveling yellow shrubbery leaves. Nearby, a white-breasted nuthatch was calling out "yenk yenk yenk yenk." Off on the Hudson River waters, about 20 ring-billed gulls were restlessly flying around in their own social group. On my walk back, this same spot hosted 3 breeding male mallards and possibly two of their ladies.

Along the Byway there were also the more common birds that people tend to overlook. I myself don't always get excited over them, but I know without them there, making noise, calling out my presence to everyone else around, and weighing down their perches, nature my seem almost a lonely place. These were the many blue jays, American crows, and American robins that seem to watch over the woods, making them safe for the smaller birds. There were also plenty of acrobatic black-capped chickadees, showing off their abilities to twirl around and hang upside-down from smaller branches and calling out a hoarse "dee-dee-dee" to get attention.

Further down the Byway, one comes across a large open field to the left, and a patch of trees to the right. This is one of my favorite spots here in the summer, but it was intensely quiet today except for the lone American goldfinch flying over and calling out "potato chip!"

The rest of the Byway is fairly quiet this time of year, at least bird-wise. Here is where I often meet locals on their morning walk. They sometimes stop me, as they did today, to share their bird stories (little old ladies love the cardinals that visit their feeders), ask bird questions ("Where have all the birds gone?"), and sometimes request advice ("Why am I finding dead bluebirds in my bluebird houses?"). I enjoy these chats, because they put into perspective, or actually make the answer to "What really is a birder?" confusing. These people are not birders probably in the sense of not having the conservation knowledge, every species knowledge, and don't actively go out searching for rares and low population species, but they can certainly tell you all about the behavior of the birds they do know, as they watch them intently almost every day. They can tell you what species are along the Byway, and where they live (as can I) there. They also often know about recent sightings there. These "nonbirders" make the pretentiousness out of true birders I have witnessed seem even sillier and ridiculous.

My next favorite spot is where there's a small pool of water to the left, a water works building straight ahead, and down the slope to the right is a large inlet. This was an exciting, busy spot today. People were amazed and awed by a lone leucistic gray squirrel that had it's own feast tree. It would come to the bottom of the trunk, grab a nut, and race back up the tree to it's favorite perch, out in the open, on display for everyone while it shelled each nut. If one can get a closer look at this squirrel, one sees that it's coat is faintly light gray closer to the skin. But from a distance it looks like a completely bleached-out gray squirrel. I had a chuckle at how unfazed it was by everyone gawking at it. Near the squirrel were two red-bellied woodpeckers flying through, a male visible with his cherry-red head stripe.

Down the slope I found seven ducks that still have me a bit mystified. I immediately wondered what species I was seeing, thinking maybe it would be a lifer, so I know these are certainly no regular mallards. They were making mallard sounds however...they just didn't look like them very much, except one had a patch of the familiar shiny green head. Upon a search through my Sibley's, they looked much more like American black ducks but not quite those either! There's a fair chance I came across some Mallard x American black duck hybrids. I would think being familiar with both species, a hybrid would not look alien to me, but these seemed very strange.

Up the hill, around the water works I went, and came to the other side of the inlet, and noticed something kept briefly blocking out the sun ahead of me. Looking up, I immediately noticed a hawk making quick, tight circles, it's dried-blood-brown tail flashing in the sun. It was low enough so I could see it hunching up it's feet under it's body. The underside of the wings were almost all soft white, except for a black crescent on each. On turning a sharp angle, I could see the upperside of the wing briefly, which looked to match the color of the undertail except for a large white patch on the outer wing. It also called briefly, sounding just like out of an old Western movie. This surely was a red-tailed hawk. I am unsure as to what color morph it may be, though it certainly was rather light-colored for this species.

While not birds, also noticeable in the quiet inlet were three turtles resting upon a log. I have lost by turtle identifying skills over the past two years, but these looked to be painteds, enjoying one of the last days of warm sun in the Northeast.

Autumn Geese

2009-10-22T22:24:00.004-04:00

I have been unable to "go birding" (as they say) this week but my drives to and from work have brought me some treasures. It has been unseasonably warm this week (apparently reaching nearly 60 degrees Fahrenheit - odd though that customers shamed me all day for not being able to get outside in the warmth considering that they should be ashamed of themselves for not hiking as much as I did in the heat all summer and saw many wonderful things), bringing out flocks of birds in droves, beautifully noisy ones. On one barely exciting evening drive home, I was met with a surprise flock of about 200 blackbirds making as much noise as they possibly could. They were not identifiable as they were moving very quickly and I suspected they were carrying some friendly species with them rather than being a monospecies group.

House sparrows are extremely abundant in Hudson Falls and are of course fat and noisy like human children who have lived on nothing but McDonalds. Funny how I would find the children quite annoying but the sparrows lively and fun.

My favorite sightings this week are the large gatherings of Canada geese and ring-billed gulls at the mowed cornfield by Adirondack Community College. I drive past at a specific time each morning and evening but I suspect you could drive by there at any time and see them. I usually count about a hundred geese, and one day saw about 60 gulls nearby. I find it interesting that geese-haters speak of the large grouping as if the individuals were merely a bunch of random hoodlums who got together to form this evil geese-gang...if you look more closely, you can see that the large group is broken into many smaller ones. These are family units. Now that you know this, you will never be able to look at a couple hundred geese the same again, not as a large random gathering.

People also seem to hate seeming them for they are apparently a signal to many that winter is soon upon us. To me they are a calming sight...if you remember, about a month ago I was worried that the oncoming colder weather and fall migration would bring us very few birds to enjoy for the winter. I'm absolutely pleased to see such plump, large, subtly-colored icons of autumn in enormous numbers, not to mention the gentle onslaught of white-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos recently.

I cross my fingers for hopefully another winter with a few surprise irruptions...

Dealing With Data

2009-10-18T23:39:00.002-04:00

Part of the reason I made an effort to get a bachelor's in science is my love for data. I love Excel, spreadsheets, numbers, lists, and anything else you can think of related to dealing with data. I even enjoy applying arbitrary guidelines to data just to get an idea of info that can be gleaned from the raw.

But even I, sometimes, cannot tolerate the long hours it takes just to do anything with data. My field notebook, begun in April and trailing through multiple little composition books (they are 4 1/2 x 3 1/4 inches) and sometimes loose pieces of paper, logs nearly every bird I have seen since then. And boy, have I seen PLENTY of individuals. I am always, always birding.

I have spent most of today, minus eating, attempting to input my data from my field notebook from August up to the current date into ebird.org. I am now tired and cranky and not even near finished, and realizing that I have lost some recent loose pieces of paper that show some rather high counts of geese in local cornfields. I will probably not be able to find these papers. These feel like newb mistakes, which is highly irritating. Oh, the woes of going through all the little mistakes of something that is still a bit new to oneself, so that one can become a better birder over time.

Warren County Bike Trail

2009-10-18T12:29:00.002-04:00

I've had various discussions that have left me confused...sometimes people tell me I should be grateful that I have nature trails nearby. Strange, as I have lived in many places and have never lacked for them. But what I mostly find strange is that the major 'nature trail' we have right here just outside the blue line of the Adirondacks does not see much use besides some cyclists.

So for you locals, I encourage you to check out the Warren County Bike Trail. It's not just for those who have two wheels. Yesterday morning, three of us nature lovers (Sue and Jackie) got up bright and early to begin about a 5 mile, 6 hour ramble here from Round Pond to the southern beach of Lake George. It felt like the dead of winter temperature-wise, but there was not a lot of complaining as we were all fascinated by what potentials were laid out ahead. The weather was actually much better than what was called for, as the sun was shining upon us for most of our adventure.

I paid little attention to many of the plants, besides virgin's bower, one that I had previously been unfamiliar with. I believe what we were seeing were the seed heads, which I found impressive, but anything in nature that creates squiggles or curves fascinates me. Also amazingly impressive were the witch-hazel trees/shrubs lining portions of the trail, in brilliant yellow. Witch-hazel really stands out amongst the typical deciduous trees of the mixed forests north of the capital region.

I paid attention to the birds, as I always do. What fascinated me was to find the further north we went, the pattern of birds changed to those who enjoyed more of the shrubby habitat to those of deeper, more northern woodlands, as one would expect as one slowly makes their way into the Adirondacks. Juncos, a bird at home in coniferous forests, didn't appear till we crossed the route I tend to consider the Adirondack Park border. It also became much quieter bird-wise past this route, also seemingly typical of deeper forests...some stretches I neither heard nor saw a single bird for dozens of minutes at a time.

Upon looking at my field journal, the very first part of the trip now seems unfamiliar to me. It is not a route I tend to follow, as part of the trail here is along the roadside, one that I find dangerous in the afternoon hours. However, there was definitely bird activity even here:

- downy woodpecker
- common raven (2 - the low crawnk call they give really broke the silence)
- blue jay (20+)
- American crow (4)
- black-capped chickadee (10+)
- white-breasted nuthatch (2)

The next part of the trail felt like home to me, and if you've followed my blog in the past or know me, you know the bike path from Birdsall (a name that makes me chuckle) Road to Ash Drive is a frequent visiting spot of mine, as the Glen Lake fen is home to dozens of red-winged blackbirds during the spring and summer months, and the occassional indigo bunting or bay-breasted warbler. We slowed here for photos and I fell into my old birding pattern:

- white-breasted nuthatch
- American robin (6)
- cedar waxwing (2)
- black-capped chickadee (10)
- red-winged blackbird (about 30, 2 males and 2 females seen hanging with grackles)
- american crow (7)
- blue jay (4)
- Canada geese (10)
- common grackle (about 50 in a flock that landed in front of us in a cacophony)
- white-throated sparrow (3)
- mallard (3 males, 2 females swimming around the fen)
- great blue heron (it tried to blend into the reeds but the sun was right on it)
- pileated woodpecker (hammered while we were around, which made such a fantastic loud sound!)
- song sparrow

From Ash Drive there is a more forested part of the trail that I always thought of us plain, and probably lacking in birds, as my one previous walk down it turned up nearly nothing. I was completely surprised at what was found, and Sue knew of an off-trail trail that had a wet area that was apparently where white-throated sparrows go to party. We had a good laugh at how their poor renditions of "Oh Sweet Canada, Canada, Canada" (or "Old Sam Peabody" which I don't prefer) sounded like really old recordings, and some individuals stopped halfway through the song as if it was just too much for them. I got some good views of what I think of as one of the more beautiful sparrows:

- white-throated sparrow (14)
- American robin (5)
- blue jay (6)
- black-capped chickadee (19)
- red-winged blackbird (2)
- white-breasted nuthatch (3)
- American goldfinch (15, 3 of them were juvenile males and 3 were females...goldfinches still confuse me at this time of year, their pale gray coloring just still seems so unusual to me, so it's a good thing they are usually calling, "Potato chip!" or, "Are you here?")
- cedar waxwing (4)

If one is birding on the Warren County Bike Trail, one should stand at the intersection with Glen Lake Road and enjoy the birds there, as they love the messy, viny, shrubby habitat right on the corner. This whole section all the way to Route 149 is interesting bird-wise. There are also spots you can visit off the trail that have American wintergreen, though if you ask me I wouldn't eat many of those berries on an empty stomach. It's interesting to read that wild turkey will occasionally snack on it, as I noted yesterday that we were certainly in turkey habitat. If I remember correctly, this was also the spot with fun Lycopodium spores:

- white-breasted nuthatch (7)
- American goldfinch (14)
- northern cardinal (1 absolutely stunning female, another hidden one nearby making those piercing chip notes, likely the male)
- white-throated sparrow (8 of those who need singing lessons)
- blue jay (8)
- black-capped chickadee (22)
- song sparrow (one actually still singing!)
- downy woodpecker (2)
- cedar waxwing (7)
- American robin
- brown creeper (I'm truly excited about this sighting. I have a difficult time finding them, and this one was flitting about on multiple tree trunks rather than spiraling up any one of them)

Route 149 to Route 9 is not as exciting bird-wise, and it is a portion of the bike trail I'm likely to pass up for a regular birding spot, unless I absolutely desire to see large numbers of juncos again (and I very well may as that species really tugs at my heart-strings). It is very quiet in spots as it is a deeper forest habitat, and I noticed quite a bit of road noise. Also, this is where I consider the border of the Adirondack Park begins, and one can tell by the birds - this is where juncos begin, and larger numbers of chickadees occur. There's what appears to be an old road or rail trail near a monument in this section that is worth a gander, as it is full of lichens and clubmosses. Here in my field notebook I wrote with excitement, "Pixie cups! Running cedar!":

- hairy woodpecker
- American robin (5)
- dark-eyed juncos (7 - it is actually difficult for me to call them dark-eyed, as I call them by their subspecies...up here they are the slate-colored)
- white-breasted nuthatch (4)
- cedar waxwing (2)
- black-capped chickadee (28)
- unknown sparrow, at first thought, wondered if it was an American tree, and glances at a field guide seem to be confirming this.
- blue jay (4)
- unknown woodpecker species drumming in the distance, such a great sound in the woods
- northern cardinal
- downy woodpecker
- common raven

The last stretch, from Route 9 to Lake George, is interesting. For the most part it was also a bit disappointing bird-wise, except for an exciting incident closer to the lake. I was a bit annoyed that the trail yet again ran alongside the road, but there's a fun stop at Magic Forest (a really old fun park), with creepy huge statues of Uncle Sam, Paul Bunyan, and Santa Claus. If you really have a look down a hill nearby, you can see a giraffe and two palm trees. Don't ask me why such randomness...I have never understood Magic Forest. The habitat further along got a bit interesting, there were a few invasive Norway maples, and a lone sassafras that even in this weather is still delicious:

- blue jay (2)
- American crow (4)
- black-capped chickadee (14)
- white-breasted nuthatch (2)
- dark-eyed junco
- red-bellied woodpecker (a male making a loud, high-pitched 'cue cue cue' call - I'm not yet familiar with this call)
- hairy woodpecker (a female...she was being chased around by the agitated red-bellied! It was really exciting to watch the showdown)
- downy woodpecker (was near the other woodpecker drama, calling away)
- American crow

Our rambling concluded at the Lake George Battlefield Park and Fort George State Park. I did not bird here, as I was too busy taking in the park. I've walked alongside it many times, yet never entering until yesterday, and was absolutely impressed with it's expansive size and scattered tree forest. The view of the mountains and the lake are stunning from that viewpoint and the sense of history there makes it worth a visit. There's also delicious pizza in Lake George!

This Just In!

2009-09-30T23:08:00.002-04:00

My mom, just now, heard an owl at the WFA house hooting away (around 11 PM). For years I have listened for them at night here and haven't heard any, so this is absolutely exciting. I've been crossing my fingers that this autumn and winter are great for owls - I've loved the snowy owl irruptions, spotting them around this area every couple of winters.

My mom does not know her owl calls, but she made the call for me, and it's almost certainly that of a great-horned owl. The habitat at the WFA house is perfect for them. I'll have to keep my ears open!

I'm Back!

2009-09-28T19:21:00.004-04:00

You may have not even noticed that I've been gone all September. It's the craziest month for me, and also my birthday month. Hooray!

Despite working so many hours and being busy with plenty of other things, I have still found time to go birding (it helps that I've made it part of my priority list). Plus I just never really stop, unless you count the times I'm indoors away from the windows, which tends to be depressing.

Now that it's autumn (my favorite) I have noticed a lot of nonbirders complaining about how there's "no birds." This fascinates and annoys me. I've still seen plenty! I even had a lifer, one that popped into view when I wasn't actively birding and while a local nonbirder was making his complaints to me. On September 19th, the bitterly cold morning it was, I was rambling along Betar Byway listening for the tufted titmice that began visiting the area around my birthday (September 8th). This old guy and his dog came along, and the guy said, "You won't be finding many birds today." Funny, because I count about 70 individual birds for that trip. But as soon as he said that, I saw a bird head pop up above the waterline of the Hudson River right behind him. I hoped so badly it was a pied-billed grebe. But the bird soon came up to swim around, and looked much bigger than grebes in photos...I was confused. And the long, odd-shaped bill and really dark body made no sense. The bird I was watching had fantastic diving and fishing skills...it'd stay under water for I swear almost a minute, go upstream while under, and come up with multiple fish. After swallowing that one, it'd go crazy fishing in a circle all around itself, grabbing up to maybe 4 to 6 more up it's in bill and swallowing them down. Too bad it probably didn't care or wouldn't understand me wishing I could give it a 10/10. I was fascinated later on to match it almost exactly with the illustration and field markings of a juvenile double-crested cormorant! It's apparently a fairly common visitor here on the Hudson, and I was most glad to make it's acquaintance that morning. I also got a bonus sighting (and hearing) of two red-bellied woodpeckers on the Betar Byway, the male flying right in overhead for about a half-minute to peer at me and call. I nearly squeed out loud.

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Also notable in my field notebook were the four red-breasted nuthatches I heard and saw at the Old Gick Farm parcel at Wilton Wildlife. I took the southern trail, which I had never been on before, and I will be going there more often as it's an incredibly beautiful, quiet place and I love the wetland that conjures up imagery of elves and faeries. There was nothing else too notable, just many of our common woodland birds (PLENTY of black-capped chickadees) but it was nice to have companionship of my familiar buddies while enjoying some late sweetfern and goldenrod. I also tested out my new way of 'pishing' which seems to work much, much better than the typical 'psshh' birders seem to use often. No, I'm not telling my secret.

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My feeders have been incredibly quiet, and after visiting here: http://wildbirdsunlimited.typepad.com/the_zen_birdfeeder/ and thinking, it's likely the birds here are just happy with what they have in the wild, considering that I live in the woods. In fact, the 80 or so common grackles that invaded the trees above the WFA house two days did not at all touch a single feeder. We do have one visitor...yup, one, on a daily basis, and he started only a week or so ago and is absolutely welcome here - a downy woodpecker. I love listening to his dog-toy-like squeaks and it's fun watching him diligently poke around the suet.

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I had a blast watching other people at the Adirondack Balloon Festival on Friday afternoon be absolutely amazed at the approximately 100 Canada geese fly over the airport while the balloons were being inflated. There were so many people with so much awe...I wondered if I saw even maybe one potential future birder being made. The geese came in, in that nice V-formation, and it appeared that the geese didn't quite know what to do with themselves once they saw what was going on down below, because they grouped together and changed direction a few times, before re-making the V and heading in the same initial direction. I figured the airport field is a typical landing spot for them and we had disturbed their landing pad that evening. I've also been seeing about 50-70 of them not too far away by Oneida Corners in two harvested corn fields, picking away at the ground.

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I had somehow forgotten that autumn does tend to bring the rains, and it's been killing my little free time I do have to go birding lately. This leaves me rather bummed on some days, although on Sunday I found it a good time to go traipsing around Wild Birds Unlimited in Wilton. If you have not gone, I recommend it. I've been there a few times. Just beware, you will want one of everything, and you may, like me, have to really stop yourself from wanting to squeeze all the little Audubon birds (I'll admit to doing this in the gift shop of the NYS Museum). Also, the people who work there are wicked cool (I'm just awkwardly shy sometimes), and I enjoyed sharing on Sunday with one of them that I love Sibley's guide. No they did not ask for any promotion in here, I just love that place and wanted to share, as people I've mentioned it to often say, "Where is that?" Then I happily give directions.

Birding Before the Storm - Friday, 28 August

2009-08-30T16:52:00.002-04:00

I just had to get out on Friday, the day before Tropical Storm Danny was to roll through the area and dump some water on upstate NY. For those of you who don't know, tropical storms and hurricanes and cause fairly large dumpings of migratory birds to the trees/ground. Think of it like airplanes. So I expected to see a few, well, unexpected birds. And oh, I did!

I actually birded in three spots on Friday, but I for once will not list them all out. I do, however, want to mention that I saw an adorably cute baby chipmunk with it's mum on the Warren County Bikepath. It was trying to hide under it's mum and would peek it's head up to sniff hers.

Also mentionable is the herb garden at Hovey Pond Park in Queensbury. I never paid much attention to the garden there, as I'm not usually a fan of gardens unless they are full of wildflowers. These are worth looking at, especially the blue garden, which contains sea holly, a plant with amazingly brilliant blue stems! The herb garden is also totally worth checking out. I personally like to rub all of the leaves of the plants with my fingers and have a sniff, and I was much rewarded. There's spearmint, lemon balm (mmmm), lavender, thyme, anise (smells like licorice if you're wondering), and sage!

The Betar Byway is where I got my surprises:
- Canada Goose (that 1 juvenile is still around, and looking healthier)
- White-breasted Nuthatch (1)
- Black-capped Chickadee (16)
- Gray Catbird (8)
- American Goldfinch (1 male, 13 unknown)
- American Redstart (this is one of the surprises!!! 1 breeding male, 1 juv male, and 1 female!)
- Ring-billed Gull (1 - kind of a surprise, I usually don't see them here. It was fishing the Hudson)
- Blue-gray Gnatcatcher (1 - another surprise! I saw this one clearly so there was no mistaking it)
- Baltimore Oriole (1 - yet another surprise, and it was a breeding male, so brilliantly orange and black)
- Blue Jay (1)
- American Crow (1)
- Eastern Wood-Pewee (1)
- Mourning Dove (1)
- Northern Cardinal (1 male, 1 unknown)
- Cedar Waxwing (16 total, 1 was a juvenile for sure, 1 had the orange-tipped honeysuckle tail...the sheer number of these birds was a little surprising)
- Belted Kingfisher (1)
- Downy Woodpecker (1)

The inlet here had:
- Black-capped Chickadee (2)
- Eastern Phoebe (1)
- Gray Catbird (2)
- Mallard (10)
- White-breasted Nuthatch (1)
and a fuzzy black caterpillar.

I was so excited to see the gnatcatcher, oriole, and redstarts. I expected them to be gone by now, so they were welcome sightings. I thank the tropical storm for likely bringing them in for a stopover. I hope they fared well at the Betar Byway rest stop.

Pilot Knob Ridge Trail

2009-08-30T16:39:00.003-04:00

Today was my first time up this trail. In fact, I didn't even know I was going up it until 10 minutes after waking up today, and was thus not prepared for the steepness and rockiness I would encounter (and am now suffering from a mild rolled ankle, oops). But it was fantastic. It is habitat similar to that of the side of Moreau Lake State Park facing the river, with uphill forest habitat and uphill habitat with shorter trees (most bearing nuts of some sort), so having a lower canopy. There's also a great lookout with a gazebo containing a flat, meadow-y area with plenty of goldenrod. You can sit at the gazebo or the nearby bench and look out over a large portion of southern Lake George. I spotted one of the little cruise ships (I believe it was The Mohican) the Lake George Steamboat company has for rides.

Also at the Pilot Knob Ridge if you keep going on a second trail past the gazebo is a pretty waterfall with very cool water (yes, I stuck my hand in). Totally worth the long trek out. Also, if you're birding, keep an eye to the sky on this trail - I had a hawk flyover. It was too brief to ID, but I was still excited.

Very quiet on these trails this time of year - I'm not sure if migration is simply in full-swing or is dying down now, but either way it has definitely affected birding.

- Downy Woodpecker (1)
- Blue Jay (2)
- Mourning Dove (1)
- American Goldfinch (1)
- Black-capped Chickadee (about 40! I did not count birds on the way back, either)
- American Crow (1)
- Eastern Wood-Pewee (3)
- White-breasted Nuthatch (1)
- Cedar Waxwing (4 - only near the gazebo)
- Pileated Woodpecker (1 - heard off in distance)
- Red-eyed Vireo (2)
- Common Raven (2)

Also spotted a red eft and a cool little snail with a pale yellow shell. There was also plenty of mushrooms/fungi I could not ID, MANY white corals near the beginning of the blue trail, and you can spot a lot of trees with lightning damage up there. My favorite was a tree snapped in half with rust-colored wood.

Pilot Knob Ridge has an interesting story behind how it came to be a preserve. You can read a little bit about it here:
http://akeepersjackpot.blogspot.com/2009/07/pilot-knob-ridge-loop-and-gazebo.html

Intense Sleepiness Not Helpful for Birder Attention

2009-08-25T22:38:00.003-04:00

I have received little sleep in the past few days, but what sleep I do receive, the birds visit me even there. A belted kingfisher has made himself visible to me on both nights, darker in my dreams than in real life...head almost black. Cardinals are coming now. Fall is upon us, even in my sleep. You should have seen how brightly the stars shown in the universe when I looked up from a street while talking to ethereal friends. I had on a sweater, so I know it was cold.

I noticed a bright breeding male American goldfinch sitting on the edge of the road today, not at all afraid of my car. They are bold little guys. The house sparrows that visit around my workplace around 12:30 PM are a bit more shy. I sat out today, enjoying the cooler weather. I could still use a good storm, as it has dawned upon me that we really received very few severe ones all summer, but I prefer this weather, cinnamon candles and Macintosh apples are not far away.

Five Months of Birding

2009-08-24T17:35:00.003-04:00

Yesterday while birding along the Betar Byway (that will be up soon enough!) I finally did the math...I have only really been hardcore outdoor birding for about 5 months. Yup, you read that correctly, months. Not years. Not decades.

This surprised me, because I can chat with apparently the 'best' of the region without too many hiccups and was able to give a decent presentation to third graders only about a month or two in. But what surprised me even more is remembering all the fellow birders or even nonbirders who have admitted to feeling terribly intimidated by my knowledge of birds, ability to identify them without breaking much of a sweat, and talk about them at length in detail to the point where the other person becomes exhausted. I nearly partially ran a bird walk only about two months into my outdoor birding as well, and this was encouraged by someone who likely has been birding for two or three decades! People ask me questions all the time about identification and migration (I love questions). It is easy to forget that one has not even been hardcore birding for a year yet. It blows my mind.

Every now and then someone hints at wishing I would tell them the magic I have worked at learning birds so quickly. Quite a few of these people have been birding for a few years now and wish they could be at the level they perceive me to be at (and that I likely am). Well, I am going to tell you what I have done to get to where I'm at so far. There is no magic. There is only hard work and insane passion (you have to be a little insane to be obsessed with our feathered friends). I also had Kronos by my side, being miserably unemployed for most of that time (and now unhappily underemployed). Here we go! I'll write them as tips for you, it's easier to read that way:

- Go find some dead specimens. This was how I began, in a lab in college, with dead birds laid out in front of me. I know it's harder these days to find some, what with the downfall of shotgun ornithology. There are a few waterfowl species at the Nature Center in Moreau Lake. It's totally worth seeing their loon up close, and I think the wood ducks are still there. You may not see all these details from far away when you are birding, but you get a better understanding of how birds are put together. I've been told the Pember Museum in Granville, NY has some! Check all nature centers, museums, and colleges.

- See if you have a nearby bird bander (check with Audubon), and find out if the bander appreciates someone stopping by for a chat or to help out. Again, you get to see birds up close, and the bander will definitely be able to help you ID birds and show you what to look for aka field marks. Ask questions! Banders are highly knowledgable (they have to be just to even get a permit).

- Get yourself a quality field guide. You might desire to start out with one that has photos. That's fine. However, illustrations are better as many are purposely created to point out specific field marks - photographs don't do this, and field marks in birding = highly important. Also, make sure your guide has range maps. Check out Peterson's, Sibley, and Nat Geo. Heck, get all 3 out at the library if they have them! Comparing before you buy can be helpful, all guides are a bit different, and different people like different guides.

- Study that guide when you are not birding! That is what I did intensely for months before these 5 months. Look at the illustrations. Note which field marks the guide points out. These are what you will look for when you see the real live bird.

- Those range maps? Take your guide and make a list of all the birds the range maps show to be in your area. Leave out those that are not. Pay no attention to those that are not at this time. If you are not going to see the bird, why waste your time as a newbie?! I found it beneficial to also split the list up into two - those only here for breeding (spring and summer), and those year-round and only in winter. This helps as a beginner, then you will know what to expect by the season you begin birding in. Also, if you visit a trail and it has a list of birds seen there, take it and study those specific ones even more intensely.

- Get to know the common birds! Start with your backyard feeders, if you have any. I can't stress this enough. I have been finding beginners that feel the pressure to know all the deep forest birds, to be able to ID everything on long day trips in the mountains, and that they shouldn't be "wasting time" on those goldfinches and blue jays in the yard, because it's supposedly not what the experts do. How did the experts become experts, though?! They watched all birds. You can learn to ID the rares later on! Plus, how are you going to be able to recognize that something is a rare, an out-of-ordinary, if you don't 'know' the common species? That rare will not stand out in the crowd to you if you don't. Know the neighboring blue jays. Name them if you have to. Study them just as you would a painted bunting.

- Find books that emphasize the differences between very common species. They will talk about the subtle differences between very similar species, and if you get to where you understand and can do this, you will appear lightyears ahead of everyone else. Birders struggle terribly with gulls, sparrows, and some raptors because they're so similar, or because they have extended life stages with subtle plumage variations. Check out Identify Yourself by Bill Thompson III.

- LEARN BIRD SONG! I cannot emphasize this enough. After spending time around all levels of birders, I cannot understand why so many pay very little attention to the actual songs/calls rather than just the fact that 'something' is making noise and trying desperately to see it because they don't 'know' the song. A song can even be diagnostic! You could be staring at a "little brown job" for 30 minutes, frantically searching your guide, and still confused, but as soon as little brown job opens it's big mouth you can be certain of who he is. Also, there's a grouping of flycatchers that usually can only be IDed by song. Get yourself some CDs or check out the Macaulay Library here: http://macaulaylibrary.org/index.do

- Learn mnemonics. In the birding world, these are often phrases that it sounds like the bird is saying. Some are universal in the birding world, and easy to learn and hear - you may be familiar with chick-a-dee-dee-dee. Even more fun, you can make up your own and share with others! None of them are set in stone. Some people hear the Carolina wren as "tea-kettle tea-kettle tea-kettle" but my buddy Sue and I hear "cheeseburger cheeseburger cheeseburger!" Also, this stuff can be more fun if you understand the way birders describe the "quality" of the song. Learn what a "trill" is or what a "buzzy" call sounds like, or "hoarse" and you can differentiate those calls that sound very similar but have a vaguely different quality.

- Do not concern oneself too much with the life list. When I began, I was driven NUTS by birders who would not stop harping on the life list, with nazi attitudes about it. Your life as a birder is not over if you simply don't care that much about one. If you are that competitive and it motivates you, do it! Also, some programs create one for you as you input your 'data' from your birding adventures. Less work for you and you get to show off.

- Don't stall and worry about not having the best binoculars. I still bird with a $15 pair from Wal-Mart and people still are impressed with how good of a birder I am. There are benefits to having bins that cost a couple thousand, definitely, but you can start off with those crappy ones in the section of the redneck store in redneck department, believe me. Plus I think as a beginner you are more apt to mishandle them because they feel new to you. Would you rather break a $15 or a $3,000 pair right off? The exception here is if you want to start out watching raptors. Then you might want to chuck some money out for a great pair or a spotting scope, because let me tell you, those birds will not be up close and likely soaring at a high speed.

- Find some good bird blogs with photos (yes, here's where photos are good) that tell you what they are. Make them part of your daily internet reading.

- Go on a guided bird walk! GO GO GO. An experienced birder will be leading, and will point out birds that you would probably miss if you were on your own. He or she will also ID singing birds, and likely give you time to find it yourself. Ask questions! Don't fear that you will seem stupid or that everyone else knows everything. There may be shy beginners or someone else with the same question. Plus, every answer given is useful to everyone in some way. Some questions, no one has ever thought to even ask! Also, if there is a bird you really hope to see, let the guide know - the guide I had was more than happy to try to help me see certain birds! Birders love to share and love to convert people over to the birding cult. :P

- When you are watching birds, watch their behavior. This is supremely important! Also, watch what they eat. Both of these things can be clues to identification. Some flycatchers flick their tails and fly in an elliptical pattern to catch flies. I have been able to ID silhouetted birds just by behavior alone! Also, it's just fun to watch. It's cute seeing cedar waxwings pass berries to each other and blue jay behavior can be hilariously good fun.

- That pesky bird diagram somewhere in your guide with all the seemingly foreign words pointing at various body parts? Learn it. Seriously. Many of those scarily labelled parts contain vital field marks. As a starting point, the ones I use the most are: crown, supercilium, lores, eye stripe, upper & lower mandible, throat, moustachial stripe, malar stripe, breast, flanks, undertail coverts, and rump. Also, know what "wing bars" look like, and keep an eye out for tail markings and markings around the eyes - vireos often have spectacles, other species have eye rings of various colors. Also, learning the shapes of some body parts can help - tail shape is a common one. And if you are learning raptors, learn all the names for the underside of the wings!

- Learn about habitats. You don't need to be a genius, but it helps you to determine what birds you might see where. There's obvious ones, like you're not likely to find a duck on top of Buck Mountain, and unless you have a pond you probably won't get a great blue heron in your yard. Some species are 'endemic' to certain habitats, meaning you will only find them in those. Many grassland birds are a good example, you will not find them anywhere else but a grassland habitat. This is more of a general guide otherwise, however - during migration, most species can be found almost anywhere and sometimes wind up in very unexpected places. Not many people expected to see merlins in a town park in Oneonta this spring, yet there they were!

- Depending on how you want to learn to ID birds, you might want to choose a certain season to go all out. I chose spring. It's easier to ID birds at this time because breeding males are obvious, brightly colored, and loudly singing to find a mate. The drawback, however, is that you can be met with an utter cacophony of sound where it is hard to individually separate songs and the sheer variety of species can be overwhelming. Late summer and autumn is better if you want to learn those you will likely see all year, and since most breeding birds have left by then, you have less species to learn and won't be so overwhelmed. The drawbacks here are that the birds are singing less and thus a bit more difficult to find (keep an eye out for movement), and now you have all those birds hatched this year to figure out. Young birds can be very confusing to ID because they do not yet have the colorings and markings of the adults and likely will not even remotely match those you learned in your guide, unless you have something like the Sibley Guide to Birds of North America (and not the smaller Eastern or Western guide).

- Buy yourself some permethrin-based insect murdering spray (like Repel Permanone). You may be wondering what the heck this has to do with birding. Well, you will be outdoors, and often out in grassy areas where ticks LOVE to chill out in. You may even come across a tick nesting spot full of hundreds of them! DEET does not repel them one bit. They will still climb up your boots and dig into your flesh. Mmmm... Trust me, you won't regret the cost or the pain-in-the-neck spraying of your clothes every 2 weeks. This is coming from someone who has been bitten by 6 ticks and contracted Lyme Disease twice. I don't care if you think you're superman or superwoman or have the best immune system known to man, if you come down with Lyme Disease, you will not be birding. For one, your neck will probably get so stiff that you can't look up. Also, carry some needle-pointed tweezers and alcohol wipes. The quicker you can pull the tick off you, the better and easier.

On Bird Populations

2009-08-23T02:43:00.003-04:00

Boy am I frustrated! I just spent a couple of hours making yet another list of local birds and trying to figure out which ones I'm likely to see at which time of year and whether their numbers are large or small here. I mostly have fun with these lists, until you start playing with the population numbers.

Here is what I've done so far. I've used about 5 field guides and made an entire Excel spreadsheet for every bird that field guide range maps have for right where I'm located. This is a good general guide of what may be here. The problem with those maps is that the entire colored area does not all contain that particular species.

So months ago I decided I wanted a more localized view of bird populations. Voila, the NY Breeding Bird Atlas! This is a fantastic tool. You can narrow down to counties in NY to see if it's been confirmed that a bird has breeded in that county, or two levels of maybe. There's an older BBA for NY that you can compare with as well. You can see population trends over time for BREEDING birds in NY and the likelihood that you are going to see that species in your particular county. You can also the species abundance throughout the state in general. I took all this info and kept notes on which birds seem to have big populations, medium-sized ones, and low numbers in my counties (I bird in 3). I also made notes on if the population was increasing, stabilized, or decreasing over time. I have found that it is useful maybe 70% of the time that I look at it. That's right, it's not 100% (though one can say that about all data). I see here and there where it states that it is used to determine population trends, period. That's it. No "population trends of BREEDING birds."

You might be asking yourself, "Well, what's wrong with that?" Well, it leaves out our winter birds, the species who come down from Canada during periods of deep snow to find food. They don't breed here! So they either wind up completely missed from the BBA, or the BBA inaccurately shows on the map that it seems to be a rare species. This does not help the birder that is simply trying to determine the likelihood of seeing said winter bird friends. And field guide range maps are even worse at figuring that out.

Also, I noticed that the Ring-billed Gull, while on the BBA, seems to have an incredibly low population, to the point of probably being considered a rare. Well, I've taken part in PA BBA point counts. Point counts tend to be held in nice natural areas away from mankind. Where are these gulls? Shores, parking lots, picking around garbage bins...these are not really point count spots. They certainly do breed in my counties. I sometimes see them in numbers up to 20, looking for fries. I doubt they have low population numbers, and Peterson notes them as "common."

And then there are just those birds that are locally common, irruptive, or need a very specific habitat, or have populations that have declined so rapidly so quickly that data collection can't even keep up. Many, many of our winter birds are irruptive. Last year we had a nasty winter, and pine siskins came down in droves. We could see nearly no pine siskins this coming winter, especially if it's mild.

Maybe I would have better luck using ebird data. Ebird, a site by birders, for birders. It relies only on whether a species was seen during a certain time period, rather than if it was having sexytime or not. The immediate problem I can see there is if an area is lacking in birders.

But for now, nothing seems to be able to explain why I am not seeing the apparently common northern flicker ANYWHERE.

Sun in Virgo Sauntering

2009-08-22T19:52:00.002-04:00

Ah, Virgo. If you weren't sure if fall was upon us yet, you can be sure now. Virgo is the sign of harvest and is associated with the Corn Maiden (time to start making corn dollies soon!). No, the weather today was not autumn weather, I was still sweating. But I am now seeing leaves falling on the ground, Virginia creeper turning red, and all of my favorite birding spots (that I visited today) were eerily quiet today. I wonder if the birding world has a name for the inevitable sadness that washes over the temperate-climate birders when many of the migrants have left the area, leaving a marked silence upon the landscape.

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My first stop was Ash Drive/Warren County Bikeway by Glen Lake. This was the busy breeding ground for Red-winged Blackbirds in spring and housed a few warbler species, and a Great Blue Heron was a frequent visitor. Today I saw and/or heard these:

- Blue Jay (3)
- American Crow (1)
- Gray Catbird (11 - though it seemed like there were plenty more hiding in the bushes!)
- Northern Cardinal (1)
- American Goldfinch (17 unknown, 2 adult males! Holy moly. These two people who kept crossing my path kept making sure they talked about these goldfinches while passing me and noting in earshot that there wasn't any thistle. Sometimes, people weird me out.)
- Swallow sp. (2 - couldn't tell if they were Tree or Barn)
- Black-capped Chickadee (2)
- Ring-billed Gull (2 flew over - 1 was an obvious juvenile - I have never seen gulls here!)
- American Robin (4)
- Eastern Wood-Pewee (1)
- Red-eyed Vireo (1 lonely one making an alarm call)
- notable Pileated Woodpecker holes, fairly fresh ones

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Next stop was lovely Delegan Pond off Scout Road in Wilton/Ganvesvoort at the Wilton Wildlife Preserve. This spot also tends to have herons. They were notably absent today. I was also pleased that there wasn't a single person around there for once! I walked along the little shore there, and between 15-20 frogs hidden in the grass popped off into the water near my feet. One was a green frog and it's likely the rest were too. There were also plenty of blue & black dragonflies, possibly some sort of skimmer (maybe Libellula luctuosa). The pond was so quiet:

- Northern Cardinal (got to watch an adult male for awhile, a cardinal nearby called to him)
- American Goldfinch (1)
- Belted Kingfisher (2 - got to see one close-up! Kingfishers have this annoying habit of constantly turning their backs to you, so you cannot sex them)
- Gray Catbird (1 - I don't usually hear any here)

Off across the road I wandered, back to Camp Saratoga. I walked a ways along the blue trail, where I would normally hear Song Sparrows and Eastern Towhees and likely spot a Brown Creeper. All absent today.

- Black-capped Chickadee (6)
- American Goldfinch (6)
- White-breasted Nuthatch (1)
- Woodpecker sp. (unseen and only heard it tapping wood)
- American Robin (1 - it was eating cherries!)

I reached the 'big field' not far from the campsite (I like to call it Towhee Meadow - the reason being obvious). Usually there's Towhees, Field Sparrows and Song Sparrows. Today it was so disappointingly silent, except for a few:

- Black-capped Chickadee (1)
- American Crow (2)
I was bummed out here. At least I got to see a yellow sulfur and a monarch enjoying the few blooming butterfly weeds here! I love those pretty little orange flowers.

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Really bummed and missing the birds, I decided to drag myself to the Old Gick Farm. At least the landscape would cheer me up. Old Gick is mostly open, save for a few trees scattered throughout. I love this sort of habitat, as it tends to be full of goldenrod (and it was). I wasn't expecting what I would come across! A large, widely spread mixed flock! I almost couldn't keep up with all of the birds flitting all over the place and making alarm calls nonstop.

- Downy Woodpecker (1)
- Northern Cardinal (1)
- Blue Jay (1)
- Eastern Wood-Pewee (2 - both following me around and calling, how I love them)
- American Goldfinch (4 unknown, 1 adult male)
- Chipping Sparrow (2)
- White-breasted Nuthatch (2 - calling to each other and following each other)
- Black-capped Chickadee (10!)
- American Crow (1)
- Eastern Bluebird (5 immatures!!! They flitted around, sat in low perches and stared at me, made sad little quiet warbles at me and to each other, and were generally super-cute. Some has no rusty coloring on the breast, others had a small patch. I did not expect to see them at all!)

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To conclude, what I notice is that these lists are now becoming full of what I call "winter birds," those you see plenty of when there's about 3 feet of snow on the ground, it's so quiet outside that it sounds like the entire world died, and the cold pains your fingers and ears. The cardinals, chickadees, nuthatches, blue jays.

Queensbury Lunchtime Observations

2009-08-20T20:15:00.002-04:00

So during my new job lunch breaks, I go outside to eat at the picnic table. I won't lie, I kind of miss working 2nd shift already because of the morning hours it leaves me free. But one must do what one has to due to external circumstances!

I do not work in a very environmentally friendly area. It's a spot with tons of apartment complexes built right on top of old fields. The bits that are left are full of goldenrod and whatever purple loosestrife-like flowers that are out there - very pretty! So the picnic table faces a tiny parking lot (where I park) and all these complexes. So I'm of course seeing plenty of American goldfinches (I'm certainly not complaining, I love listening to them chatter to each other, it sounds like they're gossiping) and house sparrows. Some people dislike house sparrows because they are introduced and will destroy nesting efforts of more desirable birds, but they're still cute and fun to watch because they're so highly social. I get a kick out of watching them fight over food, and juveniles and females chasing the males away, and yesterday they were hiding near a jeep when someone came out of the building nearby, spooking them. Usually birds flying into manmade objects is really sad, but the 10 or so birds that bumped into the windows and side of the jeep in an attempt to fly away from the human cracked me up, as they were totally fine.

Today I got quite the surprise though. Out I go, at the table, unleashing my sandwich, not expecting to see anything exciting. I start hearing a familiar call - a pileated woodpecker! In the trees right about one of the complexes! I kept an eye on the location and saw the woodpecker fly around the spot, looking like a small hawk. I was elated. A coworker came out around that point and said, "What the heck is that noise, it's so weird!" I told her and she was amazed to find out it was a woodpecker, a very large one at that. My coworkers don't quite seem to understand my fascination with birds, but they are accepting. Another one got a kick out of my story about the blue-headed vireo pooping on my head recently.

Trip to Albany

2009-08-17T20:15:00.003-04:00

Well I had a full day today! I made a trip down to Albany, beginning at 5 AM (I drove 1 hr 15 mins down with very little traffic), finished down there around 5 PM, and made it back up at 6:30 PM (traffic was not so nice back up, I got stuck in a traffic jam between exits 4 and 8). If you're wondering what I was up to, I took part in a not-so-mock jury trial to discuss a real case that apparently has yet to be resolved. It was absolutely interesting, I had fun, thought the judge was awesome. And that is all I can say about it (confidentiality agreement document and all). And yes, I got paid. Also, the hotel it was at makes the best sandwiches I have ever wolfed down in my life.

So, birding at 73 mph is a little difficult, especially when it's between 5 and 6:30 AM, as the sun isn't really 'up' yet. There looked like some possible migrants over the Northway, little flocks of songbirds. I also recognized a duck, and a few crows. What was interesting was that all these birds were flying from east to west, away from the morning sun. I do not know why. Also, nature photographers who like to get misty scenes must get up before dawn, because the whole drive down was unbelievably beautiful. There was a low mist the entire way, and for those who haven't driven down the Northway, the highway actually does have some 'nature' on the sides of it. Lots of trees up north, and then more wetland/marshy habitat with less forest to the south before getting to the city. The city just...awful. Something about most of Albany eats me up inside, except for the pine bush, which I love. The only birds I saw in the city today were more crows.

And that was my day!

Ow, My Toe

2009-08-16T21:02:00.002-04:00

Dear fellow naturalist peeps, I am going through a stressful time (ah to be young? Many people have told me life gets easier and better as the years roll on. I believe them) and have not exactly had the time to go full on birding this weekend. I am preparing for upcoming civil service exams, taking on a new (but part-time, ho hum) job, dealing with financial stuff, and even attending a focus group tomorrow down in Albany for 12 hours! So I have been quite distracted. Plus the heat made me not want to go outside this weekend. In fact, I've been so distracted that today I stood right in some stinging nettles while chatting with my mom. Oops.

All the usuals were at the feeders at various times at the WFA house today. Goldfinches, blue jays, the mourning dove, grackles, chipping sparrows, and even a male downy woodpecker who made his loud squeaks while pulling off chunks of suet! I have noticed more and more that the calls I hear the goldfinches giving this time of year seem to mimic those of the yellow warbler. But that is all. Just another day in bird world at the WFA house today. Too hot for true fun, even for the birds, apparently! Also, I noticed the house wrens have been gone for about two weeks now. I am sad that I did not get to see the little ones leave, and I absolutely miss the beautiful melodic song and dry rattle of the adults. Autumn is certainly around the corner. I am both excited (autumn is my favorite) and dreading it (I have not yet birded during the seasons where harvest and death are upon us and the list of available birds definitely gets tiny).

Also, a PSA! August is peak season in NY for tiny ticks. Larvae have hatched and are now running around looking for their first feeding before winter comes. Keep up whatever you're doing, naturalist friends, to prevent tick bites (or amp up your protection now), because they are much less visible to the naked eye now. I woke up this morning with a painful toe, and when I looked at it there was a tiny brown dot the size of a pinhead that wouldn't easily rub off. With a magnifying glass, I could see the legs and the flat-shaped hard body. It easily let go with a tug of the tweezers and then set forth on running all the way up the length of the tweezers before I drowned it in isopropyl alcohol to show others. So watch out for those little buggers. Larvae apparently aren't likely to carry Lyme since they just hatched and haven't fed on anything else, but you have to look out for nymphs that are also very small. Plus, you might be one of the lucky ones who is allergic to the bites and then has a painful toe ALL DAY LONG. No fun.

Go Away, Grackles!

2009-08-15T19:32:00.003-04:00

I stayed at WFA house today because it was blazing hot. Due to 2009 summer being so cool and rainy, I can't recall if this is 'normal' summer weather or a heat wave for upstate NY, but it's unbearable.

I did wander outside a bit, the main task being to scrub the bird bath. It was horrendous, as it was full of droppings. To me this is a good thing, a sign that it's being well used. I didn't mind it, and now the birds have a clean bath to enjoy (it's in the shade too). Some chickadees came by to watch what I was up to - they regularly do this when I'm cleaning the bird bath. It makes me think they are eagerly awaiting the clean water. I noticed it's also good for thirsty bees!

Common grackles have started to invade the feeders, and I take it upon myself to scare them away many times each day. Apparently, four juvenile chipping sparrows have caught on to my behavior. I was standing near the feeders today, looking over some juniper. Suddenly these four flocked around me and began loudly calling their cricket-like trilling alarm calls. Knowing that they love the feeders, I had a glance over there and noticed a large, obviously well-fed adult grackle hogging a favorite perch for them and making quite a mess. I slowly walked right at the grackle, scaring it off, and the chipping sparrows immediately went to the feeders. It was cute that I got to play guardian for them.

A downy woodpecker flew around the trees in the shade. I never caught sight of it, understandably so. I didn't want to be in the sun, either.

Two of the juvenile blue jays also regularly visit the feeders. One of them is quite fond of the suet and will rip large chunks off of it, gulping them down. This one is also quite curious. Today it perched, with head tilted, watching one of the dogs as it walked around the yard. It then watched as a mourning dove was stalking through the grass picking up loose seed. I also had a first-year male American goldfinch sit on top of a bush and watch me walk around the yard for a bit.

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I have a total of six wildflower books out from the Crandall Library, and I can't say I'm totally impressed with a single one of them. It's incredibly difficult to find one single book with all the possible flowers I can see in my local region. Many of them do not include a single Lobelia and some of them do not have groundnut. This is incredibly frustrating because those plants are common around here. And the books that do have some Lobelia in them are severely lacking in variety. I had to go back to the WFA house bookshelf to pull out the 1982 'Reader's Digest North American Wildlife' book (seriously, this book rules so hard that I could weep happy tears) to find out that my yard has a bunch of Lobelia inflata (Indian tobacco). A group with about 375 species deserves the common ones to be included in every wildflower book, especially when you are likely to run across at least one of them in your daily adventures. I also used the Reader's Digest to ID the pretty paintbrush-like crimson clover (Trifolium incarnatum) that has popped up in my yard. I can say that I also appreciate the field maps in the Reader's Digest which are sorely lacking in many wildflower field guides, though it does weird me out to find out fivespot (Nemophila maculata) supposedly only grows in the Pacific Northwest, as it popped up in my backyard one year here!

It has become apparent that birds and wildflowers are definitely two different worlds when it comes to field guides. It would be unheard of to leave out species from a bird guide. It's nearly impossible to include every species in a wildflower guide, I guess, there seems to be way too many to include into one book. And that lack of range maps in wildflower guides...ouch. Not handy.

Spent the day in many 'homes'

2009-08-13T19:48:00.002-04:00

First things first, since I just came from outdoors, where I was most of today! I do not recall if it was here that I mentioned edible jewelweed seeds. But this evening whilst looking over the few jewelweed plants in the yard, I noticed little seed pods. "Interesting," I thought. I touched one, as I do almost any plantthing I find, and surprise! Seeds flying in all directions, and the pod curling up in my hand! This is a new experience for me, and one that left me amused. I found another ripe pod, and popped it inside my hand, collecting a few seeds. They are very small, not much of a snack. I ate 3, slowly crushing them in my teeth. Walnut-flavor! There it was. I have missed it for years. I ate no more at the time, as I do with any plantthing I eat for the first time, in case I may be allergic. It didn't matter anyway, I had an absolute blast popping the rest of the pods I found, hoping that the birds find some of them, and the rest can grow at some point.

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I could not fathom spending the entire day inside the 'box.' Home is out there, not in here in the protective walls hiding one from the elements. I've been considering more and more downsizing my belongings, having a large yard sale or ebaying possessions, as the idea of materialism and a 'house' has become rather queer in my mind. So outdoors I went! A White-breasted Nuthatch greeted me in the driveway.

My first stop was the Warren County Bikeway. I usually visit it from Ash Drive, but I really missed the Country Club Road entrance and headed there instead. I am glad I did, as I soon came across Sue of http://watrlily.blogspot.com/! She was out for a morning walk as well, and had already spotted some grosbeaks down the trail. We chatted a bit, and then off I went in the extreme heat and sun (I now have a slight sunburn). I had trouble keeping my eyes off of all the wildflowers, the bikeway is absolutely in bloom currently - my favorites today were the goldenrod, joe-pye weed, boneset, a few sightings of groundnut and some bittersweet nightshade and false solomon seal, and the place is loaded with jewelweed (have a taste). I also enjoyed the evergreen stand. There were cherry and apple trees as well! I also caught sight of a chipmunk, a grey squirrel, and a red squirrel. Here be birds:

- Gray Catbird (17)
- American Goldfinch (27 - I swear this is not an overcount)
- Black-capped Chickadee (13)
- Blue Jay (3)
- Northern Cardinal (5 unseen, 2 female, 1 male - such a beautiful bird, both in plumage and song)
- American Crow (1)
- Cedar Waxwing (9)
- House Wren (1 - only heard the dry rattle)
- Downy Woodpecker (1 - right in front of me finding food on a trunk)
- Rose-breasted Grosbeak (2 - apparently one female and a juv, the juv following her around begging, and her feeding it - doesn't it seem late in the year though?)
- Scarlet Tanager (1 - yellow with gun-metal grey wings - female or first-year male?)
- American Robin (2)
- White-breasted Nuthatch (1)

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I was not done there! I headed up to the Meadowbrook Road meadow, another place I have not visited in quite some time. Fall migration obviously has taken place here, the bobolinks and meadowlarks are gone, as are most of the red-winged blackbirds - no breeding males here now. Again, an amazing wildflower spot! I felt a little intimidated here. There are butter-and-eggs, and plenty of other plants I have seen in almost all spots, but there are multiple species of thistle, what looked to be some sort of blue-violet vetch, two types of goldenrod, and partially hidden surprises of a white flower shaped as a morning glory - these are new to me. I felt a tinge of sadness at how quiet this location now is - fall is soon to set in.

- Mourning Dove (2 - not in the field, but on the road nearby)
- American Goldfinch (4 unseen, 5 pretty males)
- Ring-billed Gull (1 - also not in field, but flying overhead)
- American Crow (1 - off in the distance, probably at ACC)
- Song Sparrow (2! Both calling)
- Turkey Vulture (1 lazily floating overhead)
- Red-winged Blackbird (8 - either juveniles, or females - many chek calls while hiding in the cattail reeds)
- Savannah Sparrow (1 - sat on the wild parsnip that has gone to seed, only a few feet away, allowing me to study it in detail. I took copious field notes, as sparrows are easier to differentiate if you get to know them very well. Please see this post: http://watrlily.blogspot.com/2009/08/speaking-of-birds.html to see a photo of exactly what I saw, as Sue has seen it too!)

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I was still not done! I recalled Adirondack Community College having a 'fitness trail.' I surprisingly have never visited it before. I found out it really wasn't much of a birding spot, but it did have plenty of wildflowers, and what I believe to be a sort of mint. I crushed some leaves between my fingers and there certainly was a minty scent. This was also the first place all year where I could easily identify poison ivy. I rarely look for it as I'm not allergic. I'm not kidding. I still struggle to ID it's many forms, which is unfortunate as I find some of them to be very pretty. I have found out that I actually had directly rubbed my fingers on some of it last week, looking it over, trying to figure out what it was. That's how "not allergic" I am. I had no reaction. Fine for me, but for the benefit of my nature buddies, I shall re-learn how to identify it, as transferring delicious berries with those oils on my hands could be dangerous to them!

- American Goldfinch (8 unseen, 1 juvenile male, 1 breeding male)
- Black-capped Chickadee (2 came right up to me, where I could have reached out to touch them! There were 10 more)
- American Crow (1)
- Northern Cardinal (1 - calling from a distance, sounded like it was right on campus)
- American Robin (1)

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The heat finally got to me and I was hungry, so my walks for the day were done, and I was satisfied.

However, I did bird a bit more. For dinner I had Burger King, from the Queensbury location (by Aviation Mall). I cannot recall when this lot did not have gulls, I remember feeding french fries to them when I was a teenager. I had a good laugh all through dinner, watching them fight over spots on top of the lighting fixtures and the sign that read "New Angry Chicken." It was hilarious seeing one gull to a light.
- Ring-billed Gull (15, in various ages and plumages)
- American Crow (2)

An inquiring mind once wanted to know...

2009-08-12T22:07:00.000-04:00

No official birding the past few days, but I have the day off tomorrow, so I might slap a ton of sunblock on myself (doxy helps me burn in about 5 minutes in the sun) and head to a few local spots that were shown to me by our lovely "suep" over at http://watrlily.blogspot.com/.

I've been trying to get used to my part-time job (aka not enough hours and therefore not enough income, but at least I'm now working). I like it already, though the past two days have felt SO long. I like to go outside for my lunch break, and have noticed it's an okay spot for birds. It's located off Haviland Road in Queensbury, and I've spotted about 8 house sparrows, 1 American crow, 2 American goldfinches, 1 northern cardinal calling from off in the distance, and a blue jay making a bit of noise. Today during lunch I heard about 4 cedar waxwings, but couldn't find them. Something apparently found my car between the hours of 12:45 PM and 5 PM though! I had parked under this very nice, shady tree (can't yet ID it) and when I got out, my windshield was COVERED with red and blue bird doody! Most people would be totally annoyed at this, but I was somewhat delighted. It is as if my bird friends left me presents to say, "I was here!"

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Sort of bird-related. Lately I've remembered something an intern counselor from my college had asked me. That's right, Bill Chase, if you're out there somewhere, I recall you asking me something about if my treks out to nature were an escape, a way to avoid dealing with life problems. At the time, I felt annoyed and defensive at this question, seeing it as a way of invalidating my times in the wild, which it obviously was not. So funny I would even see it that way, as the question was coming from someone who also had a B.S. in science and would certainly understand the powerful draw that the outdoors has on someone.

I now know my answer to this question, and I so badly wish I could tell him that answer. It is yes and no. Nature for me is a way to escape being drowned in problems, to distance myself from the immediacy of those threats. The physical space I put between problems and myself when I head out to the woods helps me to detach from them emotionally as well. But I use my time out there to focus on those problems, to turn them over in my head, in a more objective light. I cannot seem to find any other space where this works. Some people have a special place in their houses where they can go off by themselves to think, to brainstorm, to come up with solutions, be it the bathroom, the swimming pool, or the shower. For me it is where it is green. Recent research has actually shown that people think the best when surrounded by this color. I don't recall why. I also know that being in nature really clears my head. It's almost a spiritual cleansing. A release of toxins, of stress. The exercise is part of it. The peace, the feeling of returning to a more primitive existence, bare-bones survival is the rest of it. I'm sure many other outdoorspeople completely understand this, and apparently people who are suffering badly do as well, as apparently many, many people choose the wild as the last place they want to be before taking their own lives.

To put it simply, going into the wild heals me.

Western Ridge Trail & Mud Pond - Moreau Lake

2009-08-09T16:39:00.002-04:00

I loved the autumn weather this morning, well, besides the high humidity. But the cool air felt great on my skin.

My goal today was to get to Mud Pond. I didn't care how I got there, but to have the Environmental Educator of Moreau Lake State Park being my unofficial treeline guy and calling me on Friday to let me know he spotted a grebe at the pond, I now had a goal.

All summer I have tried, unsuccessfully, to find the parking spot for the western ridge trail halfway along Spier Falls Road at Moreau Lake State Park. Today I finally got to the park at an earlier hour, and the constant spittle and overcast skies really decreased the amount of traffic along the road, so I hit 45 mph and went no faster. I saw a potential pull-off for Mud Pond right at the end of the guardrail, and saw a sign warning that police parking happens there. So I wasn't sure I could park there. A little ways up the road, I found a pull off on the right, with a fenced off uphill area further to the right. I crossed the road and checked out the trail - no markers, so obviously not WR trail. Back in my car I go, and not much further ahead I found a pull off on the right again. Across the street, under overhang from the trees, I saw the signs for trailhead parking. Was this it, I wondered? In I walked, immediately uphill. The trailhead opens up to a large rocky powerline corridor. Rocky, and covered with wildflowers! I kept walking, to see a nice parking lot, and to my left was the yellow marker for the Western Ridge trail. I've finally made it!

The walk itself was amazingly nice. It's all woods with understory and wet soils, which meant many mushrooms and fungi, and indian pipes. Besides being able to label things as corals (white and yellow), I really don't know the different species of fungi. And the two purple mushrooms were quite interesting.

Along the walk I became a bit sad, and wasn't sure why. I realized it was because I had not seen a single soul. Most nature enthusiasts would favor this, and I usually don't care to see other people, but I've become accustomed to meeting Moreau Lake visitors, and I have loved meeting them. I felt better today when a young cyclist came upon me and remarked on the stinky skunk we both had smelled. I then saw a couple with two nice pups, and another cyclist.

And yes, I did make it to Mud Pond. Finally! I had not been there on my own since spring, the last spot I had knowingly been bitten by a tick. I was absolutely surprised to see that 98% of the pond was covered with lily pads. Finding the grebe was going to be like a Where's Waldo game. I never did see the grebe, unfortunately. But the pond was so calming to study that I didn't mind. I also found a 'secret' spot near the pond that still had blueberries! While there I had a laugh as I could hear what sounded like two people arguing over something they had seen.

So birds! This is what I saw/heard along Western Ridge, before reaching Mud Pond:
- Mourning Dove (1 - where I parked, it slowly walked out of my car's path)
- American Goldfinch (2)
- Eastern Wood-Pewee (5 to my delight)
- Black-capped Chickadee (15!)
- Blue-headed Vireo (1 - it was so upset with my presence that when I took a break on my way back, it perched above my head and pooped on my hair. Thanks, vireo. Thanks. It's lucky that I was so excited to see one for the first time!)
- Red-eyed Vireo (3)
- Cedar Waxwing (2)
- White-breasted Nuthatch (1)
- American Crow (1)

I also spotted two deer along Western Ridge, and saw the damage they had done to multiple silver maple saplings. I was also impressed with the indian pipes (both white and pink) and Lycopodium.

Upon reaching sight of Mud Pond, I saw a massive nest - not sure if it's a wasp or hornet, but it's size was impressive. Birds at Mud Pond included:
- American Goldfinch (21 heard, 1 male sighted!)
- American Crow (4 - one kept whining)
- Eastern Wood-Pewee (1)
- Blue Jay (1)
- Common Raven (1)
- Yellow Warbler (2 - another last pair?)
- Cedar Waxwing (6 - they had yellow tail tips)
- Gray Catbird (4)
- Common Yellowthroat (1 female dancing around a small tree right in front of me!)
- Great Blue Heron (2 - this was birding on hard mode, I had to find them within the pads, anyone without binoculars likely would not have seen them)
- Ducks, unknown sp. (13 - they were simply too far away for me to see any identifying marks. However, they had very dark brown plumage that resembled American Black Ducks)
- Canada Goose (3 - by all those ducks)
- Belted Kingfisher (1 - would not sit still, kept flying over the pond, calling)
- Wood Duck (7 in the separated spot of water - 1 female with 6 juveniles!)

I headed back to the area with all the wildflowers. There was birdsfoot trefoil, various ferns (I don't have a fern guide), pokeweed, goldenrod, red clover, mullein, bladder campion, common st. johnswort, yellow wood-sorrel, possibly snapdragons or lobelia (must learn the difference), sweetfern, blueberries, fleabane, yarrow, virginia creeper, buttercups, joe-pye weed, evening primrose, and I got all excited when I positively identified one plant of false solomon's seal, which currently has the pale yellow berries flecked with pink/red.

Great Egret!

2009-08-08T21:12:00.002-04:00

I headed out today, drained and sore (thanks, illness), but still determined to find some birds, woo!! My first stop was the Ora Phelps Preserve off Parkhurst Road in Wilton (or Gansevoort, if that appeases you). I'd never been here before, and heard nothing about it, so did not know what to expect. What I can tell you to expect after my visit today is a small area full of all sorts of ferns, quite a few wildflowers, and for one-half of the preserve, a totally jerk dog who lives adjacent to the left side who does not stop barking. So if you're looking for a birding spot, do not go here. If you're looking for wildflowers and ferns, DO go there! And come back and tell me what the yellow flowers with 5 petals are. :P Also, enjoy the one white baneberry, patridgeberry, some brambles that I snacked from, the pretty red dragonflies, and the 'hidden' spot covered with horsetails (Equisetum).

Birds at Ora Phelps Preserve:
- American Goldfinch (6)
- Blue Jay (2)
- American Crow (1)
- Red-eyed Vireo (3 - one alarm calling)
- Black-capped Chickadee (12)
- Hermit Thrush (3 - heard one, saw two - what a treat, I love these birds!)
- American Robin (2)

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I felt rather disappointed with my birding there, and felt bored with my regular spots up in Glens Falls, so since I was already near Saratoga I headed over, blaring punk rock and passing right on by the Wilton Wildlife Preserve and shot down Route 50. I headed right to the Bog Meadow Brook Trail, where it has an entrance off Route 29.

Now, I haven't been here since early spring, before all the wildflowers and shrubs were blooming. I, for whatever reason, even despite reading blogs showing otherwise, still seemed to expect the path to be clear and mostly brown and yellow. Oh how surprised I was! The amount of flowers was unbelievable. I was overwhelmed, being unarmed with a guide in a sea of purple, red, white, and yellow. My list for the day contains many of those that I and probably many others are very familiar with, and I was excited to see joe-pye weed, and if it wasn't for http://saratogawoodswaters.blogspot.com/ it would have taken me a lot longer to find out the interestingly colored flowers I kept seeing twisted around the honeysuckle, with such a great scent, are called 'groundnut.' I probably sniffed every single one that I saw.

Also interesting was the couple that came across me along the trail. The woman had an American accent, but it took me a moment to realize the guy was Australian. And then he told me that's where he's from, when he was asking about the snake he just saw. I asked, "What did it look like?" Black and yellow. He said he was concerned about poisonous snakes, stating that seeing a snake in Australia was usually cause for alarm. He greatly relaxed and was very pleased to find out it was your typical garter snake, totally harmless and a bit shy. I eventually saw 4 of them myself today.

Birds! Oh, this was exciting. This trail has never let me down, though I miss the Red-winged Blackbirds, which are all gone now. But here is what was there today:

- American Goldfinch (15)
- Cedar Waxwing (19 - I feel this was a low count for the actual number of them - they were loving the honeysuckle berries, sitting right in front of me while gulping them down! A few of them had the orange-tip to the tail, the pigmentation from the honeysuckles the cause)
- Black-capped Chickadee (2)
- Gray Catbird (11 - again, a low count - catbirds hide very well in the honeysuckle)
- Mourning Dove (1)
- Sparrow, sp. unknown (1 - it was quite darkly colored, quick-moving, and thus confusing)
- Song Sparrow (1)
- Yellow Warbler (2 - last pair of the season?)
- Great Blue Heron (1 - it was very upset about something, calling repeatedly, so I looked around it with my binoculars and saw a....)
- GREAT EGRET!!! (1 - it's presence really upset the GBH. It eventually flew away from it, landing a short distance away to go fishing. This gave me a great view of it's black legs and feet, helping give some identification clues. It also had no plumes, had a bright orange/yellow bill, and white feathers otherwise. No plumes gives it a juvenile classification! These birds are rare here, and it is likely migrating through from the north!)
- Green Heron (1 - it flew in while I was watching the other heron and the egret! Amazing.)
- Mallard - (1 female flyover, she was noisy)
- Eastern Kingbird (2 came in to see what the egret was, then flew off again)
- Turkey Vulture (1 flying overhead on my way back to my car)

While I'm likely heading out to Moreau Lake tomorrow, the Egret really made my weekend.

Lyme V 2.0

2009-08-07T18:44:00.002-04:00

I had a doctor's visit today. I mentioned nothing about Lyme right off, and as soon as I listed all the symptoms, I could see his face turn to intense concern, and immediately he mentioned Lyme Disease. I was impressed, after hearing so many horror stories of oblivious docs, but then again mine has always been awesome and very intelligent (and kind and funny). He seemed even more concerned when even he couldn't find any rash and found out I had full-blown nasty Lyme complete with the bulls-eye last summer. Maybe he was thinking, "Crap, I hope that is not chronic Lyme rather than a new bite's problem," just as I've worried about. And he knew all about the CNS symptoms, and mentioned Bell's Palsy. Plus, my doctor is an avid hiker - he too is at high risk, and he was worried for himself as well. I feel a lot more at ease (well, as much as one can while feeling crappy), and have acquired multiple-weeks-worth of doxycycline, hooray!

I found a potential birding spot the other day, though it is a bit of a drive. I'm not exposing the location right yet, as I want to scope it out first. It's in an extremely quiet spot, and my car was the only one there, so I'm hoping it's not nearly as busy as, say, the Betar Byway. However, sometimes wooded areas aren't as great for birding, so we'll see. If I feel well enough, I might use this weekend to make some drives to areas further out to bird.

More goldfinches are finding increased comfort levels at the feeders. Some chickadees sat mere feet away from me today in the lilacs, calling their alarm calls and making noises that made me imagine I could squeeze them like dog toys. The house wren had been mostly quiet today, except to come out of the box and make the dry rattle at a common grackle who had been at the feeders. The grackle stood still for a moment, then seemed spooked and flew off. The blue jays have been all over the yard, making all sorts of calls, and trying to stay away from the grackle.

I started reading this book 'Life List' written by Olivia Gentile, about the late birder Phoebe Snetsinger. I'm already utterly fascinated. If you're at all a birder with a passion for birds, try to find yourself a copy. You'll immediately recognize the sudden obsession with birds, the passion, and the desire she had to see more.

Little Green Burrs

2009-08-05T20:14:00.003-04:00

The feeders were so busy today. The birds seem to love the new location. The old location was prone to getting squirrels climbing up into the feeders (both gray and red squirrels). The feeders are now out in the open, away from shrubs. The birds I have noticed this has negatively affected are the ones who like to be able to quickly hide in brush if they have to, such as the Black-capped Chickadees, American Goldfinches, and Chipping Sparrows. They are all still around, but they aren't at the feeders as much. I did, however, get a good laugh out of watching a male goldfinch today. He was sitting on the other side of a tube feeder, totally out of view, but you could see filler seed shooting in all directions.

Mid-afternoon was the busiest. Also, unfortunately, the new location has attracted more Common Grackles (we only had one juvenile visiting occasionally; today there were four individuals). I scare them off if they are the only ones at the feeders. They're also the ONLY birds I've seen really getting aggressive with the others, and that is why I'm not happy with them. People typically believe that Blue Jays are the bad guys, but the four juveniles we have here tend to back off if another species is near, even if they do seem to get a kick out of bullying the House Wren. There's one bold one who even let the Downy Woodpecker sit 6 inches away. The Downy had just finished the last of the suet and sat on top of the metal holder, watching the Blue Jay picking through some peanuts. They didn't seem to mind each other at all, and it appeared they were merely curious of the activities of the other.

So during this time, the feeders also got a young Tufted Titmouse who sat around and pecked at everything near it (except for other birds). Sitting in the nearest trees were two other Titmice, calling "Peter peter peter!" I wondered if it was the parents keeping an eye on the youngster. There were two American Robins hopping around below. Two Mourning Doves seemed absolutely delighted at the new location, as it is in the shade in the afternoon, and for whatever reason this spot has been a Mourning Dove favorite for years. A male Northern Cardinal visited very briefly, much to my excitement. We rarely have them, as they are well hidden by all the bushy habitat nearby. Both House Wrens perched nearby, one of them constantly making a dry rattle. Ever since the babies were born, that is the only call I've heard out of them. In the little patch of woods across the driveway from the feeders were two White-breasted Nuthatches calling to each other. I love how solitary they can be even when there's a busy flock nearby.

Also spotted, I have no idea what this bird was. I was stumped, and too far away from the feeders by the time it got to them. Bigger than the Downy Woodpecker, seemingly brown plumage, except for a thick white supercilium and black crown that gave the appearance of wearing a yarmulke, and having what appeared to be a dark gray cone-shaped bill (like that of a grosbeak). VERY strange-looking. It also made a single, brief squeak here and there that sounded like a Hairy or Pileated Woodpecker. I could only think of it as a juvenile, with the brown and strange appearance. But species? No idea. I hope my eyes were playing tricks on me.

I sifted through more of the wildflower patch today. Distracted again by all the delicious-scented Sweetfern. I watched some sort of large, orange butterfly with beige spots on it's lower underwing lazily float around searching for something sweet. And then I spotted, just on the other side of a low rock wall, all by it's lonesome in cool, moist soil, a viney sort of plant with weird heart-shaped leaves with two lobes at the base. The stems seemed an odd purplish-brown from where I was. I couldn't help but to have a closer look, it was too interesting. Upon closer inspect I could see bunches of green oval berries and other bunches of bright red ones that resembled tiny cherry tomatoes. The shade of red made me think, "Uh oh, not edible." Peeking around at the rest of the plant, I found a tiny bunch of delicate purple flowers with protruding yellow stamens, the purple petals furled backwards. Solanum dulcamara! Woody nightshade. Definitely berries I did not want to eat, nor the rest of that plant. I was so excited. I can't recall the last time I had seen one, but it is a name I was familiar with. People I've known who are interested in edibles have always told me about the dreaded nightshade, haha. I wandered through the wooded patch nearby and found two other fairly good-sized plants of it, one only bearing unripened berries, the other a tiny stem with a tiny grouping of those purple stars.

I also found one pokeweed plant (I can't help but to find them ugly plants). The buttercups around here look absolutely awful. Maybe they are just dying. I also found a lot more St. Johnswort, and the woods are loaded with blooming yellow wood-sorrel. I'm so tired of pulling it up all around the rest of the yard! There's also a plant I have yet to ID that every year leaves my shoelaces and pants covered in tiny green soft burrs. My terrier's fur gets covered in them.

Wrote Too Soon!

2009-08-04T17:37:00.002-04:00

I just saw one of the House Wrens right outside my window. It was running around the yard searching under some bushes for an insect (and found one). Yippy!

I was also pleasantly surprised when running along the sweetfern. I smelled something very fragrant and a bit spicy, stopped in my tracks, and sniffed one of them. It smelled like it'd make a tasty tea!

Twilight Zone? Eclipse? Full Moon?

2009-08-04T16:58:00.003-04:00

Well, there's at least two of those going on in two days (yes, on August 6th is the Full Sturgeon Moon, and there is a penumbral lunar eclipse). I haven't checked the TV listings yet for the third. Things are just weird around here today. Not only do I still feel ill (of course), but I got offered a part-time job that I didn't expect to hear from until Friday, forcing me to make an immediate decision between that job and a full-time job I have been sure I wouldn't last in for more than a few weeks. A panic attack, some fear that I was making mistakes, and I set everything in stone with a few calls. Maybe that wasn't weird enough for you, however. While I was on the phone with one of these jobs, I got an incoming long-distance call. I got it, and found out it was the new intern for the internship I did last summer, calling about where I may have left raw data sheets when I exited the position in August of 2008. Whaaat? She was very nice, and I tried to be helpful. The nature of the call was so strange though. I really thought I had handed them in to the coordinator.

I'm not sure why I am telling you this! But these are the things distracting me from birding. All this chaos, every day lately. I can't totally complain. I like excitement and strangeness.

No true birding today, although I'm actually birding all the time. I saw an American Crow picking through a discarded McDonald's bag on a rural road. On my walk in downtown Glens Falls to get to the library, I spotted a few House Sparrows near Glen Street. I saw about 10 dark grey-blue and white flying overhead. I have seen this a few times this year, and wondered what birds they could be. Today I realized, they were simply your typical Rock Dove (pigeon). You can tell I don't live in a city! Not that there aren't pigeons in Fort Ann. In fact, there's two that hang around the actual town center. But not in my neck of the woods.

The area seems sadly absent of the other garbage-pickers, the Ring-billed Gulls. They like K-Mart and the Queensbury Burger King. Not today while I drove by. In fact, I noticed today has been awfully quiet bird-wise. Yes, I saw those above, but I've been home most of today and briefly heard a few of the juvenile Blue Jay gang individuals. I have not heard nor seen a single House Wren, only one Chipping Sparrow, and nothing else. Most days it's a bird party around here!

So I felt a little lonely when I took my newly acquired wildflower field guides out to the yard (Wildflowers of the Adirondacks; Wildflowers of Maine, NH, and VT), sat nearby any flower I saw, and flipped away. I'm a wildflower newb. I'm not sure if I can approach wildflowers as I did birds. I don't recall ever feeling so overwhelmed with a bird field guide or even just staring at a bird as I do with a flower. There are those few I can always ID, such as jewelweed, white baneberry, spotted knapweed, smartweed, milkweed, yarrow, purple loosestrife, and buttercups. Note that most of those are wetland plants - I took a great wetland course at college. But there were a few today that I had an easy time with and even got excited to realize certain ones were in the yard: common St. Johnswort, common fleabane, birdsfoot trefoil, common mullein, and possible dwarf snapdragons.

Flipping through the book, there were those that were like old friends but whose names I had forgotten: bladder campion, Deptford pink, and I also suspect partridge-berry, but there's only leaves right now.

Also noticed the goldenrod is now blooming on roadsides! It's a favorite of mine.

House Wren Family; Sickness

2009-08-03T21:10:00.003-04:00

For about a month now, I've watched one House Wren, then two take over both holes of a nest box (and it looks like maybe they shoved some sticks into the tiny box below as well) and finally decide to use the top hole. I watched them fail to shove 6 inch long sticks into those tiny holes and look around wondering where the stick went after it fell onto the ground. I've watched them nearly get attacked by Blue Jays and Common Grackles and perch on the ornamental metal windmill, wings spread out, bill pointed at the sky, calling as loudly as possible. I've heard them sing every day for all of that time. They have become familiar neighbors, ones I say hi to in passing every morning.

So surprised I was when I woke up on Saturday to hear what seems like 3 or 4 babies peeping hungrily from that top hole. It felt like Christmas. Both parents were extremely busy all day both days of the weekend looking for food. I was pleased to see all of the pesky insects in their bills (they seemed not so desiring of the insects I like). It was neat watching them dart under the parked cars, under bushes, in the wood pile, any little crevice where a bug might have been hiding. Then one of them would stand guard on the feeder while the other would perch on the windmill, shaking down it's wings before entering the box from which tiny cries could be heard. I hope I am available when the wrens finally fledge. Last summer, I helped band a noisy family of House Wrens, and there is just something special about that species.

-----
Today I attended an early going-away party for the two interns, Kate and Taryn, at the Wilton Wildlife Preserve. Their terms at the WWPP are up later this August. I will miss them both, they have both been so kind. It is weird to think the experiences I had this spring there will never happen with the same energy again. But I am glad that they both seem to be excited about where they are headed in their lives, though I could sense Taryn's nervousness of not having anything lined up yet. But she'll be okay, as she is quite resilient and perseveres.

An Indigo Bunting sat outside and sang for most of the time we were out there (from 5 to 7 PM). There were also approximately 4-6 Tree Swallows bubbling overhead. One other person seemed to tune into them for a bit, and I thought, "Ahhh, a kindred spirit."

I was also delighted to see that someone had photographed the Delegan Pond osprey! I've already forgotten the name, but whoever it was, has talent.

-----

I am unsure of when my next outing will be. For 4-5 days now I have been suffering, and I'm not quite sure what it is, but I don't like what it seems to be. The symptoms all bring back memories of those I had with Lyme Disease last summer. Yes, it's absolutely possible that I've come down with it again, knowingly having been bitten 3 times earlier this year, and being outside in the woods and flowers so much. I just feel absolutely miserable. So much joint pain, sore muscles, both types of pain migrating throughout my body, mildly stiff neck, other parts becoming stiff after a short period of not moving, feeling like my muscles are on fire (you know how really hot flames look like coming off of something? That's how my skin feels). Dizziness. Periods of nausea. See, flu-like, arthritis-like symptoms, but definitely not the flu. I visit the doctor on Friday, but I am so anxious about being told it is stress (not that my particular doctor is that much of a jerk) or that everything will hinge on whether there is a rash (even if it's Lyme, a rash does not appear in somewhere near 50% of cases). I can't think of anything else it could be. RA comes close but some of the symptoms are not RA.

Just...ouch. I think I might go crawl under my desk into fetal position.

Sun in Leo: Dog Days of Summer

2009-07-30T19:40:00.002-04:00

"A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken." - James Dent

The West Fort Ann house has a new, extremely unwelcome visitor: a cat. It seems to be feral, very timid of humans. I cannot get anywhere near it, not that I want to. I just want it gone, no defecating worms into the garden and no attacking my feathered buddies. I'm hoping it left alone the green frog I found today. The frog "spoke" to me when I came near; unfortunately, I don't speak it's language. It then hopped into some water and turned back around to look up at me. For all I know, it could have thanked for me providing a cool spot on such a hot, humid summer day.

The nesting House Wrens are still around. It feels like I have been saying this for a month now. I have seen the pair, but I have seen no others. They like to sit on top of the nest box or this metal windmill ornament in front of their "house" and call, and I've watched them catching insects. They don't seem to mind my presence, except that the Mr. has designated a certain spot he doesn't want me to cross. I like to mess with him and sneak up near his nest box, where he will pause in his preening to look at me and open his bill without sound coming out, as if warning me that if I take one step closer, he was going to make noise. And he does, if I come forward. He'll close his bill and go back to preening if I back off. But I usually leave him alone and let the wren family have it's space. Tonight I scared off the juvenile Blue Jays and a Grackle from trying to attack him.

The juvenile Blue Jays are a blast. They hang around the yard, since it's a source of easy food. They sit in nearby pine tree perches and whine, then fumbling with flight to get to a location. One of them is still spooked by human presence. He/she sat completely unmoving on the suet feeder with a huge chunk in it's bill, staring at me to see what I was up to. Another one is trying to figure out how to use a feeder that is way too small. It also seems like they've been alerting each other to the presence of that unwanted cat.

I heard the Red-eyed Vireo today making an alarm call briefly, that hoarse "qwaaa" sound. Not sure why it's here on a daily basis now, with it being the middle of summer.

Goldfinches and chickadees are still in good number here, and I occasionally see one of the young Chipping Sparrows messing around the yard. I have noticed a lack of American Robins suddenly. The Broad-winged Hawk is no longer watching the yard as territory.

Before Noon Treasures

2009-07-29T23:29:00.002-04:00

I have realized that every time I have come down with a skull-crushing headache, there's a low pressure system hanging overhead. I guess it's nice to know that I'm that strongly connected to nature, but I'm not liking the squeezing of my brain feeling.

I braved the heat today and got out birding earlier in the morning! I wasn't sure I'd even enjoy it, but I definitely did. I even found out that I've been missing out on quite a few morning species at my favorite spots. I felt like I had won the lottery.

I typically visit Ash Drive/Warren County Bikeway by Glen Lake in the early afternoon. Today I got there at 9:30 AM. This is what I saw:
- Eastern Kingbird (2 - seemed to be a pair that was constantly calling to each other, and one was very much keeping an eye on me)
- American Crow (1 - not heard there before)
- American Robin (3)
- Red-eyed Vireo (2 - not heard there before!)
- American Goldfinch (1 male picking at a thistle, 4 heard)
- Tree Swallow (2)
- Song Sparrow (1 - a regular but it sat right out on a bush in plain view, calling)
- Blue Jay (4 - not seen here before, they tried mobbing me because I was pishing something else!)
- Black-capped Chickadee (3 - believe it or not, not heard here before)
- Gray Catbird (2)
- Yellow Warbler (1 - NOT the male I've seen all summer, looked like a juvenile)
- Barn Swallow (1 - not a regular)
- Common Yellowthroat (1)
- Red-winged Blackbird (1 - I miss them already)
- Cedar Waxwing (2)
- Great Crested Flycatcher (1 - not a regular)
- Eastern Wood-Pewee (1)
- Northern Cardinal (1 - not heard here before!)
- White-breasted Nuthatch (1 - not heard here before!)
- Hairy Woodpecker (1 - not seen here before! It landed on a wooden pole right in front of me and started working on destroying it. I was so happy, I've missed the woodpeckers lately.)
- Mourning Dove (1 - can't remember if I've seen them here before, my memory says no)
- Great Blue Heron (1 - saw earlier this spring being mobbed, today it was restful without the blackbirds around. It waded for a bit, then flew up to a roosting spot in a tree where it stretched out and then sat)
- possible Baltimore Oriole? It landed in a tree right below one of the Kingbirds, mere inches below, and looked up at the kingbird. The kingbird seemed surprised, looked down, and then called feverishly, scaring the "oriole" into the bushes. The bird was quite ugly in color, and I'm guessing it was a juvenile male, but the coloring was totally weird. It was a bit bigger than the kingbird, and had a long tail, brownish-orange at the tip tapering in a gradient to almost white at the body; the upper body and head/face were almost completely brown with some orange mixed in; the black eye was surrounded by a black mask that resembled that of a waxwing; the wings on this weird bird were black and white patterned like that of a goldfinch. Some of that brown seemed to be hints of future black feathers, and I could figure out that the brownish-orange would become future bright orange. I can't even think of another bird it could be. And that would be my first Oriole here.

-----
I couldn't stop there! It was still not too hot and I was so totally pleased with my finds that I headed to the Betar Byway in South Glens Falls. During my walk here it became extremely hot and humid, to the point where NO ONE else was on the byway at all. Ouch. I did meet a few neat people early on, including a backyard birder who was extremely worried about all of her birds suddenly missing (she loved hearing me talk about fall migration and she walked away excited and relieved), and a young girl with her mom who remembered that I had given a bird presentation at Moreau Lake in June! To hear one of the kids recall that and even say they liked it was great. Both mom and daughter talked about how they are always looking for birds and trying to ID them. I was beyond glad.
So here's my feathered friends:
- American Goldfinch (15! They're either currently breeding or just post-breeding, so the #s make sense.)
- Mourning Dove (1)
- Canada Geese (10 together, 1 alone - this was so sad. There's been one there who is not thriving. It is extremely skinny and small, the group won't let it near, and it begs humans for food even while it's carrying grass around. Someone told me it is definitely ill.)
- Yellow Warbler (1 female, 6 unknown - you may recall I previously noticed they were missing from here. So there's still some but the numbers have greatly decreased).
- American Robin (7)
- Mallard (4 females, 4 eclipse males, 3 unknowns as they had their heads under their wings, and 1 male)
- Song Sparrow (7 - more than usual?)
- Northern Cardinal (2 males, 3 unknowns)
- Cedar Waxwing (8)
- Mourning Dove (1)
- Eastern Wood-Pewee (1)
- Common Grackle (1 juvenile - I so badly wanted it to be a Brown-headed Cowbird)
- Northern Mockingbird (never seen here before, and it seemed to be nesting)
- Tree Swallow (3)
- White-breasted Nuthatch (2)
- Gray Catbird (5 - they seem less shy in the morning)
- Black-capped Chickadee (12 - more than usual)
- American Crow (1)
- Red-eyed Vireo (2 - not seen here before, and these two were making themselves visible to me! They were totally on alert. They also wouldn't sit still, so I couldn't even see their red eyes, but I definitely saw their "white eyebrow." Pishing these birds is interesting, each time I pished they would fly out to the CLOSEST branch to me! They were also giving their alarm call repeatedly, which I hear as a quickly descending 'qwaa' sort of like the song of the Red-bellied Woodpecker.)
- Possible House Wren - (very tiny brown bird with no defining mark flitting around, calling "chek chek chek chek" vaguely resembling a nuthatch. Upon listening to audio tonight, I'm not so sure, because the call sounded more of a Marsh Wren.)
- Eastern Kingbird (1)
- Blue Jay (1)
- Veery (1 - buy the SGF Water Works building)
- Great Crested Flycatcher (1)
- House Sparrow (5 males, about 15 others! They were a flock moving through the area, looking for food. I had previously never seen a single House Sparrow here. They were picking up everything off the ground to see what it was, including dried out old gum wads and a feather twice as long as their little bodies.)

There is also an inlet past the SGF Water Works building that sometimes has cool stuff. This time a muskrat was nearby rummaging around in the grass.
- Eastern Phoebe (1 - it was really busy flycatching, which was so neat to watch)
- Song Sparrow (2)
- Mourning Dove (1)
- Great Crested Flycatcher (1)
- Cedar Waxwing (3)
- Gray Catbird (1)
- American Goldfinch (2)
- American Crow (1)

Maybe I can get myself to bird more often in the morning!

90 Degrees

2009-07-28T15:37:00.002-04:00

That is what the digital thermometer read around 1 PM today! The humidity gives it a tropical rainforest feel. I really don't know why the Yellow Warblers leave during the hottest months in the Northeast, this seems to be their weather.

This unfortunately pushes me indoors a bit more than in spring, except to check on a few things, including some wildflowers around the yard. I did spot the House Wren peeking out of the hole in his/her nest box during mid-day (it's probably rather cool in there), and two Mourning Doves sitting on wires shaded by tall pines, cooing. The Red-eyed Vireo is still nearby. Male and female Goldfinches were feeding from every feeder possible, and refusing to disperse with my presence. Their cute little noisy conversations are most welcome. An American Robin was outside my window earlier, searching for worms. I also saw ol' bluecoat (the male Eastern Bluebird) a 10 minute walk down the road at a mini-golf park...he had been MIA for a week.

Right now I could use some October weather!

Yellow Warbler movement Pt 2

2009-07-28T00:46:00.002-04:00

Tonight (July 27) I noticed more movement from Yellow Warblers. At 8:15 PM at the Queensbury K-Mart parking lot I heard one calling from one of the small trees planted near the edge! This is not a usual spot for them, though apparently a Common Yellowthroat did breed here this spring as I frequently heard one of them calling there. But it is a parking lot home to many Ring-billed Gulls (in all stages of their lives) and plenty of House Sparrows. Gulls were nowhere to be seen that late at night tonight, but the House Sparrows were having a party, apparently. I also noted the abundance of House Sparrows in the Queensbury Wal-Mart parking lot this morning around 10:15 AM. Also at K-Mart tonight was a Red-winged Blackbird calling further in the distance, and a very noisy Northern Cardinal.

If anyone wonders why I seem to get such a strange mix of birds or wonders why so many wetland birds are seen or heard so close to mass market stores, it's because all of them were built in a marshy wetland area. Cattails are abundant on roadsides here.

Oh, Is It Hot Out There

2009-07-27T12:07:00.002-04:00

Upstate New York finally has summer, my least favorite season, believe it or not. The humidity is why, and it is intense now.

This morning around 9:45 AM I heard a Red-eyed Vireo calling across from the West Fort Ann house. It is probably not a resident bird, I rarely hear vireos around the house, so it struck me as odd that I would hear, "Here I am, in the tree, look up, at the top" while getting in my car. It may have just been passing through, movement is occurring now as fall migration begins, but I also noticed all this summer that this location would occasionally get an errant bird for whatever reason. This breeding season we had that Black-throated Green Warbler calling all day long, for one day, never to be heard again. Weird...

Last night I realized that if I lived to 75 years of age, I'd have 50 years of birding under my belt. How exciting! :)

Fall Migration Begins

2009-07-26T16:17:00.003-04:00

Knowing that late July is typically when fall migration begins, I just had to get out there, no matter the weather. The weather was not great - overcast, very humid, windy, showers turning to rain, and so, so, so hot. I did some very slow walking and was still drenched with sweat. Yup, we do have a front moving through.

I actually got to see the fallout of the beginning of the rain along the Hudson River. For half an hour the trees were mostly quiet. Once the wind and rain picked up, dozens of birds noisily flew down to the trees along the bank, some mobbing each other due to landing too close to each other.

The site where migration is most evident around here is Ash Drive, along the bike trail. The Red-winged Blackbirds are almost completely gone, and so are the Yellow Warblers. I was quite sad until I saw some travelers stopping by, and of course the honeysuckle and other fruit-bearing shrubs are ready:

- American Crow (1)
- American Goldfinch (3)
- Eastern Kingbird (2)
- Gray Catbird (2)
- Blue Jay (1)
- Cedar Waxwing (4)
- Common Yellowthroat (1)
- Song Sparrow (1)
- Red-winged Blackbird (1)
- American Robin (3)

Ash Drive pit stop birds:
- Alder Flycatcher (2) They were rather huge flycatchers so it ruled out Least. They popped out onto an exposed branch in the shrub near me to see what I was, and I got a great view of how olive they were. They then started calling repeatedly, which gave their identity away.
- Barn Swallow (1) I have never seen them here before. This one flew right in front of me!
- Great Crested Flycatcher (4) Another I've never seen here before. They were alerting each other to my presence and sat on medium-level perches in open canopy, right where I could easily see them. They were passing bunches of either dried seed pods or leaves to each other.
- Eastern Phoebe (1) Never seen here before, and was in a very odd spot - sitting on the railing of a bridge over the water.

-----
I then headed to the Betar Byway in South Glens Falls. Along the way I met an older local gentlemen who knew his birds as well, and we discussed what had been previously seen here. This is also where it really began to rain. Noticeably gone were the American Redstarts and almost all of the Yellow Warblers, and the Great Blue Heron was absent. The number of Cedar Waxwings seems to have exploded here, again a place with a variety of fruit-bearing shrubs.

- American Robin (3)
- Canada Goose (1 sickly looking juv that seemed to be shun from the group of 9 nearby)
- Mallard (10 females and 1 eclipse male)
- Eastern Kingbird (3)
- American Goldfinch (11)
- Cedar Waxwing (10)
- Mourning Dove (3)
- Swallow sp. (2) - too far away over the water, possible tree swallows
- American Crow (8)
- Northern Cardinal (1 male came right out into the open!; 1 more heard nearby)
- Song Sparrow (5) I finally got a great look at one. Had a dark brown chest spot, thin brown streaks on it's chest, and dark brown malars. This does not seem to match the illustrations in the two books I have, but the song from the bill I saw open was unmistakable.
- Gray Catbird (2)
- Black-capped Chickadee (2)
- Tree Swallow (8) I'm used to only seeing about 2 here - I'm not familiar with their broods but maybe some of these are fledges?
- Yellow Warbler (1 Female, another heard nearby - possibly the last pair left)
- Common Grackle (1 Adult, 1 Juv mere branches apart)

Pit stop birds:
- Great Crested Flycatcher (2)

----
Happy migration! It makes me a little sad to see them leave, but I hope they enjoy their wintering grounds. I look forward to actually doing some birding in late fall and winter, I never have, and I'm curious as to what I'll actually be seeing then around here. It'd be great to get another Pine Siskin irruption.

Common Raven

2009-07-25T01:23:00.002-04:00

Do Common Ravens perch on telephone wires? Once in awhile I find a blog, a forum, or even a bird field guide that has a comment under certain species stating that said bird does not typically perch on manmade structures such as phone wires. I have yet to see this statement regarding ravens. However, in my experience, ravens tend to be rather shy, retiring to the woods upon seeing you, and perching on snags/dead trees.

However, I've also spent many, many hours watching and studying the morphology of the American Crow. They are a common bird, and some of the best advice I've heard and taken from a fellow birder was to learn your common birds in and out so that when something less common comes along, you'll easily spot it. Wise words. They certainly came in handy today.

Driving along County Line Road in Queensbury, I saw a rather enormous deeply black bird sitting on a telephone wire across from AngioDynamics. Too big to be a crow, I kept an eye on it as I passed by. It looked rather humourous, such an enormous, plump bird sitting on such a thin wire. The shag hanging from it's throat was impressive! It just seemed such an odd spot for a raven. But then again, this spring and summer have been lessons in learning that birds are rapidly being displaced from their habitats and are attempting to adapt to the damage that humans keep doing. AngioDynamics was built in an area with a wetland or two (or more) and has resident Killdeer, which is also a rather rare and strange location for them to be in now, but they are certainly there. I'm not sure if they are there this month, but go stand in the parking lot next late spring - within 5 minutes I can bet Mr. or Mrs. Killdeer will come running along, yelling at you to get off it's territory.

Still Out There - Moreau Lake, My Second Home

2009-07-21T14:23:00.003-04:00

I swear I have not stopped birding, if you noticed the lull in entries! I've just been busy with other things, and my nature hikes have become...well, nature hikes, rather than pure birding hikes! July where I'm located does become a bit quieter bird-wise now that nesting is finishing up or done for many species, and I'm not seeing fall migration occurring here yet, though apparently it's begun in the Hudson Valley (south of me). I'll be keeping my ears and eyes ready. So a lot of what I'm hearing and seeing are residents still near their territories, where I've spotted them before, and my entries would simply be redundancies from the spring. Redundant posts may not be interesting, but I've loved that I can simply revisit certain individuals' "homes" in the woods. I can still be sure if I show up at Ash Drive near Glen Lake, I will see or hear the same male Yellow Warbler and same male Common Yellowthroat. This fascinates me. It's like saying hello to old friends and stopping by for a visit. And Mr. House Wren has been here every day, still singing his greatly trilled melodies.

I have been getting out though. On Sunday I took Jason (no, I haven't introduced him in a previous blog entry - I guess you'll just have to deal with the mystery!) out for a hike on the western side of Moreau Lake State Park. It was a little irksome that the park is becoming busier, but I do enjoy sharing info about the park with the confused visitors. I did not bird with binoculars while with Jason. I really wanted a hike out of this time, and I had a bag mishap - I don't have much of a strap on the bins, so once my bag was bust, I wasn't bringing them along. I did, however, bird by ear, not marking anything down, but pointing them out for Jason, who later told me he was intimidated (in a good way) by my skills. We heard American Crows, Black-throated Green Warblers (if you really haven't heard one and want to, they're all over Moreau Lake), Wood Thrushes, Scarlet Tanagers, Red-eyed Vireos, and um...well, that was it. It was awfully quiet in the park this weekend, and I really wasn't sure why. Maybe the combo of the ending of nesting season and the abundance of hikers and bikers. The hike itself was a blast though, and we got lost a few times only to find out we were very far from our intended spots.

On Friday, I went up Moreau Lake on the lake-side Nature Trail (with light blue markers) with Sue P. of http://watrlily.blogspot.com/ fame, and David Alfred, the Environmental Educator at Moreau Lake, who you should really talk to about mushrooms, because he LOVES them. Another absolutely great hike, and with more great people! This was partially intended to be an actual bird walk, but us three love to chat about all things natural, so it veered from that a bit. But I kept a list for us:

In the parking lot by the Nature Center (great spot for birds until the beach gets busy/loud):
- Black-capped Chickadee (2)
- Eastern Phoebe (2) - a nesting pair that's been there since spring
- Scarlet Tanager (1) - my first ever F Tanager! I screamed with quiet glee! She was shades of yellow and olive and a very light tan on the underside. I saw her collecting insects and quietly calling, "CHIP-burrrr" while observing me.
- White-breasted Nuthatch (1)
- Chipping Sparrow (4)
- American Goldfinch (2)
- Thrush sp. (1) - I still cannot ID it, it was hiding up in a tree and peering down at me from a branch. All I saw was a necklace of dark brown streaks, and a whitish mustachial line. It was certainly Thrush-sized and shaped, however.
- Ruby-throated Hummingbird (1) - spotted by Sue, as she was checking out some pretty flowers and the bird decided to visit them at that point.

Up the trail we went, with Dave making it official by giving the Intro speech! I wasn't expecting much bird-wise, being on the noisier side of the park (Eastern side of the mountain range, facing the lake). Boy was I surprised:
- Common Loon (1) - heard singing from the lake! Dave and I looked at each other in shock and excitement, as it was our first time ever hearing it call. A little odd for 10 AM.
- Black-capped Chickadee (10)
- Scarlet Tanager (2)
- Eastern Wood-Pewee (2)
- Broad-winged Hawk (1)
- Red-eyed Vireo (5)
- Wood Thrush (1)
- Winter Wren (1) - I give Sue major bonus points for hearing it from such a distance. If she didn't point it out, I would have likely missed the song. Because I'm not familiar with it. That's right, a new species for me!
- White-breasted Nuthatch (1)
- Dark-eyed Junco (1) - another major bonus to Sue. All three of us heard it singing a laser-beam-like trill, but none of us knew what it was. It's similar to Chipping Sparrows, but more musical. Sue actually spotted the Junco hiding very near a warbler.
- Blue Jay (1)
- Tufted Titmouse (1)
- Black-throated Green Warbler (2) calling "zee zee zee zoo ZEET!" and another (1) calling "zoo zee zoo zoo ZEET!" Yup, that's right, they have TWO distinct songs. It's confusing, especially when you also have Black-throated Blue Warblers with the similar song, "zoo zoo zooooo, zeeeet." I suggest listening to audio of each, although in my experience the Greens sound more exuberant and the Blues more tranquil, as their song is more drawn out.