Long-legged Birds in the United States

     Collectively called waders, six kinds of large, long-legged birds illustrate convergence; life from different backgrounds shaped by the habitat they live in so they are similar in some characteristics and habits.  The six species are great blue herons, great egrets, glossy ibises, wood storks, roseate spoonbills and sandhill cranes.  They all have long legs, necks and beaks for getting food.  Although each one of these species has its own particular niche, there is overlap among all of them.  There is some competition for food.  These birds nest in colonies in trees, sometimes in pure groups, but most often in mixed gatherings of at least a few species.  Field guides to birds are helpful in identifying these large birds.   
     Great blue herons and great egrets are in the heron family and have lenghty legs for wading in water.  Both these common and wide spread species in North America consume fish, frogs, tadpoles, crayfish and other aquatic creatures.  But they also catch and eat snakes, larger insects and field mice in meadows near ponds and creeks.  When they catch mice, they dunk their victims in water to slick the fur so they can swallow them easier.  Herons fly with their legs stretched out the back, but curved-back necks.  
     Ibis are related to herons and have similar features, except ibis beaks are curved down to grab prey at different angles than their cousins, perhaps reducing competition with them for the same prey.  They fly with necks and legs stretched out.
     Wood storks have bare heads and necks, a distinguishing characteristic.  They are North America's only stork, living uncommonly in the southeastern part of the United States, but also in South America.  They can catch larger prey from the water, swamps and meadows than can the other species noted here because they have larger, thicker, therefore, more powerful beaks.  That would reduce rivalry with other waders for food.  Wood storks fly with legs and necks extended beyond their bodies and often soar high in the sky.
     Roseate spoonbills are also not common in the southeastern United States, but are more common in South America.  They are, in fact, the only spoonbills in the western hemisphere.  They have bills that are flattened at the tips like paddles.  They work their beaks sideways in shallow water and soft mud, all the while opening and closing them, to gather tadpoles, aquatic insect larvae, shrimp, small fish and other small, aquatic critters in ponds and marshes along shorelines and mudflats.      
     Sandhill cranes are the most terrestrial of all these bird species, but they, too, get some food from shallow water.  Sandhills migrate in great flocks, mostly over the prairies and farms of the American mid-west.  One of their resting areas on migration is the shallows and flats of the Platte River in Nebraska.  This type of bird eats seeds, including corn, but also berries, roots, snakes, mice, insects, frogs and crayfish.  In flight, their necks and legs are extended and they often soar in great gatherings of themselves.  They have a deep, rolling call when in flight that helps identify them.
     These are a few big, long-legged, lengthy-necked birds in the United States that overlap each others habitats, yet have their own niches.  Each species is interesting in its own way, adding more enjoyment to the outdoors.

Favorite Feathered Neighbors

     Two species of adaptable birds, Carolina chickadees and blue jays, have been my favorite feathered neighbors in our suburban neighborhood for many years for a variety of reasons.  And, as I sat in front of our computer about to type this true story, a chickadee fluttered a couple of minutes among twigs of a lilac bush, just outside the window I'm facing, only four feet from my face, as if encouraging me to get on with it and tell its story.  What a coincidence!  Or was it?   
     As species, Carolina chickadees and blue jays are woodland birds that have adapted to suburban areas with their many trees and shrubbery, adding another touch of wildness to those suburbs.  Happily, both these species of birds are permanent residents in our yard, as many populations of their kinds are throughout much of North America.  There has been at least one pair of each species here, continuously and the year around for many years, as long as I have lived here.  Each species raises young in our neighborhood and they come to our feeder when we provide bird feed during winter.  I never tire of seeing and hearing them among the trees and shrubbery around the house.  They are always interesting.
     Both these species of birds are attractive.  The chicks are smaller than sparrows, mostly gray, but with a jaunty black cap and bib.  Their greatest beauty, however, is their lively, seemingly cheerful actions no matter the weather is the year around, accompanied by their "dee-dee" or "chick-a-dee-dee-dee" notes through the year.
     Blue jays are mostly blue, with black and white markings.  They have a crest on top of their heads and often a raucous calling, including a raspy "jay, jay".  They can be brash at times, like their crow relatives, but quiet while raising young, so as to not draw attention to themselves and their offspring.       Chickadees hatch youngsters in cavities, including those in trees, abandoned woodpecker holes and erected wren or bluebird boxes.  Each female lays about 6 eggs in a clutch.  Some summers, the pair of chicks in our neighborhood have reared young in boxes we erected.  But, apparently, they hatch youngsters somewhere else in the neighborhood during other years.  And, throughout the year, a pair of chicks also enters a dryer vent not used anymore on our house.  
     A couple places that blue jays have nested on our lawn are high in one of our Norway spruce trees and on top of a eight-foot-tall red juniper tree.  I only know they have reared offspring high in a spruce by watching their constant comings and goings in that tree for a few weeks in summer.  And I have watched the parents feeding the newly fledged young in our yard.  I noticed the jay nursery in the juniper by innocently walking by it one day.  An unseen jay jumped out of that juniper and began calling raucously as I walked by.  I looked up and saw the cradle at the top of that young tree.
     Some years I see the courting of blue jays in our neighborhood.  The pair is inseparable and the male offers tidbits of food to his mate.  And they engage in much pleasant "conversation".
     Chickadees and jays, being dramatically different sized birds, do not compete much for food.  The chicks eat invertebrates and their tiny eggs, and small seeds and berries.  Jays consume invertebrates, small acorns, like those on pin oaks, corn, seeds and berries.  In fall, I see the attractive jays gathering pin oak acorns from among strikingly golden or orange pin oak leaves to bury in the ground or push into tree cavities.  The jays will consume some of those hidden acorns in winter when food is scarce.  Both species enjoy ingesting sunflower seeds and other grains at bird feeders.
     The adaptable Carolina chickadees and blue jays add much beauty and wildness to the tree and bush-studded lawns they live in.  They are pleasant and helpful neighbors to have, being attractive, lively and cheery, and eating many insects and weed seeds.          

    

Life Generally Overlooked

     On the afternoon of August 25, 2015, I stopped at a tiny shallow tributary of Mill Creek in a sunny meadow about a mile south of New Holland, Pennsylvania to see what wildlife was visible.  This little trib of clear water also receives cleaned-up waste water from a food processing plant, which might make that waterway more of a challenge for wildlife to live in.  But over the years, I have seen a variety of aquatic plants and creatures thriving in it and that day in August was no exception.
     That little brook seemed devoid of animal life when I first arrived, but I knew better than to give up.  Within seconds I saw schools of light-brown banded killifish, a minnow-like species, in the inches-deep, clear waterway.  Actually, I saw their dark shadows on the muddy bottom of the stream before the fish themselves because they were camouflaged brown above brown, which protects them from herons, kingfishers and other predators on fish.   These small fish are also vertically striped, which helps them blend into their austere surroundings
     Killifish are long, and thin, streamlined for life in a waterway's current.  They are adapted to warmer waters with mud bottoms.  They feed on bits of plant and animal debris and small invertebrates in the water and on its surface.  And these particular killifish prove that the waste water from the plant is cleansed before it is released into Mill Creek.
     By scanning my 16 power binoculars along the tiny, mud shores of the waterway and the grass, sedges and blooming arrowhead plants growing from the shallow water, I saw several male bluet damselflies, singly and in gatherings of several per group.  Since I couldn't see their transparent wings, they looked like one-and-a-half long, horizontal blue streaks with black rings perched on the waterside vegetation or hovering like tiny, blue helicopters low over the water.  And each one of a few males held a pale-gray female behind her head by the tip of his long, thin abdomen in a spawning embrace as each female deposited eggs in the shallows.  There probably were several more female damselflies along that little brook, but being gray and small, they were difficult to see for their own safety.  I didn't notice many of them.
      In many species of wildlife, males are show-offs with bright colors or sounds to attract females to them for mating, and to intimidate other males into getting out of their breeding areas.  And the attractive male bluet damselflies are blue and black-marked for that reason.    
     The resulting damselfly nymphs from the spawning are thin, brown, and predatory on tiny invertebrates on the muddy bottom of this tributary of Mill Creek.  But within a year, those nymphs change to adults with wings, crawl out of the water and look for flying insects to eat and mates.
     Several least skippers, a kind of small butterfly, flitted among the grasses and sedges growing on the muddy edges of this little waterway.  Their pretty wings were pale-yellow, edged with brown.  The ones I saw might have been females ready to lay eggs on the grasses and sedges, their young 's only food.
     Several sulphur yellow butterflies puddled in the mud on the shore of this brook.  Usually sipping nectar from flowers, as most butterflies do, this species of butterfly, as with many of their kin, get water, salt and minerals from mud, wherever it may be.
     No matter how small or seemingly insignificant a species may seem, all life is beautiful and important.  All habitats, including human-made ones, no matter how small, harbor interesting life.  Some of the most intriguing life is generally overlooked.  
                 
       

Migrant Raptors in August

     The migrations of southbound, diurnal raptors (hawks and eagles) begins in August each year.  And ospreys, bald eagles, broad-winged hawks, sharp-shinned hawks, red-tailed hawks and American kestrels are the most common migrants during August, the first month of southbound raptor passages.  We know that because people staff rocky look-outs on mountain tops along some of the Appalachian Mountains in Pennsylvania, West Virginia and other states the Appalachians pass through.  A few of those watches on mountains in Pennsylvania that come to mind include Hawk Mountain Sanctuary, Bake Oven, Waggoner's Gap and Second Mountain.
     People staff those lookouts from the beginning of August through December every year to learn what raptors are coming through this area during their fall migrations, how many there are, whether their populations are increasing or decreasing, and what are their flight patterns in different weather and wind direction circumstances.
     Generally, when the wind comes from the northwest or north, it pushes up and over the southwest running Appalachians, pushing the hawks and eagles up with it.  Gravity wants to pull the raptors down, so by setting their wings just right, the raptors can soar ahead for many miles with little effort.       But when wind comes from the other directions, the raptors don't get the lift they need from the mountains, so they scatter off them and across flat land.  Then those hawks and eagles can be spotted most any place.
     Ospreys and bald eagles are big and majestic on the wing, causing excitement among many people, as they pass anywhere over Pennsylvania on their way south for the winter.  And both of those species can be spotted around larger bodies of water as they watch for bigger fish to catch and eat before going farther south.  Their migrations, as species, continue during September and October. 
     Broad-winged hawks are unique among raptors in the eastern United States in that they migrate south in flocks, often large gatherings of hundreds.  Broadies are exciting to see flying and soaring out of the woods they spent the night in and seeking thermals, which are columns of sun-warmed air rising up into the sky.  When broad-wings find a thermal, they enter it and it spirals them high into the sky, again with little effort, until they are almost out of sight.  When they have gone as high as they can, the broadies peel out of the thermal, by the dozens, scores or hundreds, and head southwest in long lines or sheets of themselves.  But gravity pulls them down, bit by bit, and so they are obliged to find another thermal and another, all day, every day of their migration south to Central and northern South America where they spend the northern winter.  Broad-wings migrate out of the eastern United States during August and September, with a peak of exodus around September 20th.  By the end of September, they have all left this part of North America.  
     Broad-wings raise young in eastern North American forests and feed them frogs, mice, small birds, larger insects and so on.  Because they ingest so many small, cold-blooded critters that aren't available in winter, broadies must winter in the tropics to get food.  In fact, birds in general, migrate not to escape winter's cold, but to find reliable sources of food through that harshest of seasons.         
     The small, stream-lined sharp-shinned hawks, the large, soaring red-tailed hawks and those diminutive falcons, the American kestrels, all migrate through Pennsylvania in good numbers during August and September.  Sharp-shins also pass through here during October and red-tails during November and into December.  Sharpies prey mostly on small birds, while red-tails and kestrels mostly catch mice, and other rodents in the case of the red-tails.     
     Red-tails are also stately on the wing, and exciting when many are seen migrating south, one after another, in almost a steady stream.  This species is especially appealing on migration in the chilling, thrilling winds of October, November and into December. 
    Some kestrels pass through here and continue farther south.  But others spend the winter here, mostly catching mice and small birds in fields and along roadsides and hedgerows.
     This fall, or succeeding ones, watch for migrating diurnal raptors, starting in August.  They are handsome, and thrilling riding the winds or thermals to their wintering grounds.  
    

Jewelweeds

     Two species of jewelweeds, spotted and pale, are native to much of the eastern United States, including in southeastern Pennsylvania.  Both these closely related, annual plants sprout in moist, mostly shaded soil in April, including in damp woods and along shaded roadside ditches, and reach full size of up to five feet tall and shrub-like by mid-August.  They start blooming toward the end of August, reaching the peak of their blossoming early in September.
     These jewelweed species have  similar leaves in shape and shade of green.  But spotted jewelweeds have orange flowers, spotted with red.  Pale jewelweed blooms are pale yellow.  And the blossoms of both species hang like pendant jewelry and ear rings, hence their common name. 
     Spotted jewelweeds are more likely to grow and bloom in bushy stands where there is a good bit of sunlight each day, while pale jewelweeds most often flower in shaded areas.  However, I sometimes see mixed patches of these two species with their orange and yellow flowers forming wild bouquets of themselves in mostly shaded areas.      
     Migrating ruby throated hummingbirds, heading south to South and Central America to avoid the northern winter, poke their long beaks into jewelweed flowers to sip sugary nectar.  And worker bumble bees and a variety of other insects do so as well, pollinating the blooms in the process.  
     Both species of jewelweeds are also called "touch-me-nots", but that is a misnomer.  When the seeds in jewelweed pods are ripe by late autumn, the pods will snap open at the slightest touch, popping the seeds a few feet from the parent plants.  Obviously, it is to the plants' best interests to have their ripened pods touched to spread their seeds onto soil where jewelweeds are not yet growing.  People, as well as deer, foxes, birds and other creatures, moving through jewelweed thickets brush against the pods, which releases their seeds.  Mice and small birds eat some of those seeds through winter.  The surviving seeds sprout the next spring. 
     It's always an interesting experience to touch a jewelweed pod with a finger tip and watch it project its seeds.  A coiled bit of vegetation in each pod twists abruptly like a coiled spring snapping, tearing open the pod with great force for something so small.      
     Jewelweed stems ooze juice when injured.  That liquid, when applied to bare human skin, relieves the burning of stinging nettle chemicals, the irritation of poison ivy and the stings of bees.
     Jewelweeds have attractive flowers and practical purposes to wildlife and people.  Small wildlife consume their nectar or seeds, and we get relief from burning and itching on our skin.  Look for these bushy annuals, and their lovely flowers, in damp, shaded areas from now to about the middle of September.            

A Few Insects on our Lawn

     During the last several days, starting about the 18th of August, I noticed a few kinds of interesting and attractive insects on our lawn.  I've seen these species of insects before in our yard, but not so abundantly as now.
     We have a large vine of deadly nightshade on a planted viburnum bush.  Right now that vine has several purple-petaled flowers with yellow stamens protruding beyond the petals, and green, yellow, orange and red berries.  The different colored berries indicate they don't all ripen at once.  And part of the attraction of this nightshade vine are the many furry, black and yellow bumble bees that visit the blooms to sip nectar and collect pollen.  These are sterile, female, worker bees that take nectar and pollen from the blossoms to feed their younger, larval sisters in their nests in clumps of grass in the ground, while the mother of them all, the queen, continues to lay eggs in that grassy home in the soil.
     Meanwhile that day, I saw several digger wasps feeding on nectar in clumps of tiny, pale lavender spearmint flowers.  Digger wasps are three-quarters of an inch long with a one inch wing span.  They are black with deep-orange abdomens. 
     Adult digger wasps visit flowers to sip sugary nectar and females dig in the soil to find the larvae of green June beetles, which live under ground in our yard.  Female digger wasps sting each larva they find to paralyze it and lay an egg on top of it. The resulting wasp larva eats the June beetle larva, pupates in the ground through winter and emerges the next summer, ready to feed on flower nectar and reproduce themselves.
     But the most intriguing of these interesting insects in our yard are the cicada killers that are in our neighborhood in abundance.  There is a colony of female cicada killers that worked together in a patch of clay soil with sparse vegetation to dig out several branching burrows in the soil, each one with a few cells at the end.  Each female digs with her front legs and kicks out the soil with her rear ones.
     Meanwhile, we have annual cicadas all over our lawn.  They had been brown grubs sucking sap from tree roots for at least one year.  Then they dug out of the ground during some nights in August, leaving quarter-inch holes in the soil, and climbed trees, shrubs and other objects.  After a while, the back of the exoskeleton, or shell, splits open on each grub and the adult cicada, complete with wings and horny plates under their abdomens on the males, emerged.  After several days, many empty shells still cling to the objects the grubs climbed up.    
     The next day, and for several days after, the cicadas fly about in the trees looking for mates.  Males vibrate the flaps on their abdomens to make the buzzing, whirring sounds we hear during the day and early evening to attract females to them for breeding. 
     I see both the chunky, dark cicadas and large, yellowish-orange cicada killers zip about among the trees and bushes.  The cicadas are finding mates, but the female cicada killers are trying to locate cicadas to sting and paralyze.   
     When each cicada killer catches and paralyzes a cicada, she flies the victim to a tunnel, takes it down to a cell, still alive, and lays an egg on it.  The resulting wasp larva feeds on the paralyzed cicada, pupates through winter in its cell and emerges the next summer when the cicadas are active.
     Those five kinds of insects on our lawn, the bumble bees, June beetles, digger wasps, annual cicadas and cicada killers, are fairly obvious during their time each summer, and quite intriguing to experience.  They are all part of food chains of who is eating what.
           
        

Farmland Swallows and Sparrows in August

     This morning, August 23, 2015, as I took a half hour drive through Lancaster County farmland from New Holland to Ephrata, I saw several flocks of post-breeding barn swallows, tree swallows and house sparrows along the rural roads I was on.  The mixed groupings of swallows by the scores and hundreds were lined up on roadside wires, perched on corn tassels, bare-ground fields and some of the roadways, or zipping through the air in pursuit of flying insects to eat.  Presumably, when the swallows' stomachs were full, the birds would perch to rest, digest and preen their feathers until hungry again.  The house sparrows were on the country roads to ingest undigested grain in horse manure, or weeds and fox-tail grass to eat the seeds of those plants.  When a vehicle approached, the swallows took to the air and the sparrows flew into the fields of tall corn and perched there until the vehicle passed by.  But soon all the birds returned to their original positions to rest or feed again.  Those swallows and sparrows made the trip to Ephrata more interesting.  
     These three species of small birds have adapted well to human-made cropland to their own advantage; hence their abundance everywhere in this county during summer of every year.  Milk is big business in this agricultural county and with that livelihood are thousands of cows, and horses, which are the power on the farms of plain people.  With those large animals comes manure, and millions of flies that were larvae in the manure.  And there are lots of flies on those large farm animals themselves.  Many of those flies are food for the swallows.  
     By mid-August, flies and other kinds of insects, including mosquitoes, had all summer to build up their numbers.  Those multitudes of flying insects are abundant enough to feed the hordes of swallows that had also increased their numbers during the same summer and are now gathering in the hundreds and thousands per flock in preparation to migrate south to find flying insects still in abundance beyond the reach of the insect-numbing cold of the northern winter.
     Another reason for the abundance of barn swallows and tree swallows in Lancaster County is that both species nest in human-made constructions.  Barn swallows hatch young in barns and under bridges while tree swallows raise offspring in bird boxes erected for them and bluebirds.  And, of course, in farmland, there is abundant flying insects all summer that feed those swallows.              
     Though plain in appearance for camouflage, house sparrows in their gatherings on the roads, roadsides and corn fields were interesting to experience, too.  They were on the roads and shoulders to eat seeds.
     House sparrows, too, rear youngsters in barns, and in crevices of any other human-made structure they can stuff grass into for a nursery.  This species adapted to farmland in Europe, long before they were introduced to North America.  And because they are seed-eaters and have adapted to sheltering in buildings and planted shrubbery at night, house sparrows are permanent residents wherever they may be.  They do not migrate.  
     Obviously, swallows and house sparrows are not competing for food.  Both groups of birds are pre-adapted for what they eat.  The swallows have thin beaks, but wide mouths, not for cracking seeds, but for netting insects on the wing.  The sparrows have thicker, stronger bills for cracking seeds, but the sparrows are not agile enough to snare a lot of insects in mid-air.
     Swallows and house sparrows are small, but big in numbers and impacts on farmland in much of North America every year.  People unknowingly have done well by them, by providing them with food and cover.  And these little birds add beauty and intrigue to farmland, particularly in summer.

Spruce Grouse and Snowshoe Hares

     Spruce grouse, a kind of chicken-like bird, and snowshoe hares, which are related to rabbits, live permanently in the coniferous forests of Canada and Alaska.  They range from coast to coast and from Hudson Bay to the northern parts of the northern tier states of the United States.  The hares also live in the Appalachians and Rocky Mountains.  And both eat vegetation in their spruce and pine woods homes.   The grouse spend most of their time in the sheltering evergreen trees, but the hares, of course, are mostly on the ground, usually in the cover of thickets. 
     The handsome male spruce grouse are slate-gray all over with white spots on their chests and bellies.  They also have black throats and a red, bare-skin comb above each eye, which helps impress the lady grouse during the spring mating season.  Females of this species are gray-brown with heavy barring to blend into their surroundings.  Females alone raise the young and are better protected against predators by camouflaged feathering.  In fact, spruce grouse rely so heavily on camouflage that they often don't flush from the ground until almost stepped on by predator or human.  Some of the predators on spruce grouse are golden eagles, lynx and goshawks.  
     Spruce, fir and pine needles are the staple diet for spruce grouse through the year, hence their common name.  During summer, however, they also eat insects, grass, leaves, berries and other vegetation of the season.  But in winter they are restricted to consuming needles, seeds and buds.  They also ingest tiny stones to help grind their food in their stomachs.
     In spring, male spruce grouse raise and fan their tails, puff out their feathers and strut before the females of their kind to put them into the mood for mating.  Each female lays 4 to 7 or more eggs in a grass-lined nest on the ground under a bush, low-growing limb or other shelter.  The chicks hatch fuzzy, camouflaged, wide-eyed and ready to leave their nursery to forage for food.  Within a couple of weeks, although still immature, they are able to fly to avoid predators.              
     Snowshoe hares are well-named because they have large, fur-padded back feet, like snowshoes.  Those enormous feet spread their weight across the snow so they don't sink into it when walking or hopping, which has allowed may hares escape from predators, such as lynx, gray wolves, wolverines, great horned owls, golden eagles and others.  Fur on the feet helps keep them free of frostbite.
     Snowshoe hares are also called varying hares because they are brown in summer for camouflage and white in winter to blend into the background of snow.  Of course, that camouflage also protects them from predators.   
     Each female hare bears about three litters of young a year with two to eight babies in a litter.  She doesn't make a nest, but puts the youngsters in a small depression in the soil.  The offspring are born furry and with their eyes open.  Within a few days they leave their cradle in the ground and forage on vegetation.  But many of them are caught and eaten before they grow up.
     Hares are related to rabbits, but they are not rabbits.  Rabbits are born naked and blind, and spend a couple of weeks in their nurseries in a sheltered place in the ground. 
     In summer, snowshoe hares eat grass, leaves and other succulent vegetation.  But in winter, when all that is not available because it is buried by snow, the hares consume twigs, flower and leaf buds and soft bark on younger trees, sometimes killing those small trees. 
     Spruce grouse and snowshoe hares have much in common, particularly living in coniferous forests in Canada and Alaska.  They both are permanent residents there, eat vegetable foods and kept in check by the same predators.  But they both have ways to protect themselves, including camouflage.  Most of us probably will never see these creatures, but its neat to know they exist.   

Top of the Bay

     I went to North East River at North East, Maryland for a few hours on the afternoon of August 20, 2015 to see what water birds were around.  I view the North East River from a lovely park right where North East Creek flows into the river at the top of Chesapeake Bay.  With benches and picnic tables in the park, the viewing of the river is quite comfortable.
     I drove through farmland, woodland and small towns from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania and through part of northeast Maryland to get to North East River.  That river, which is a broad, north-extending arm of the Chesapeake, is a different environment than my home in nearby Lancaster County, one of the reasons I like to visit North East.  The North East River, reaching far inland, brings a bit of the sea coast inland, within an hour's drive of my home county.
     I didn't see a big variety of birds that day at North East River, but what I did see was interesting.
The first birds I saw were a few ospreys flying and soaring over the water in their search for large fish to catch.  One osprey did hover briefly into the wind, then dropped feet-first to the water to snare a fish in its strong, sharp talons.  Soon that fish hawk rose from the water with a fish in its claws and pumped its wings powerfully toward shore to eat its victim.  It shook the water out of its feathers to lighten the load it had to carry as it powered through the air.  But an adult bald eagle apparently saw the osprey catch the fish and quickly and repeatedly dove at the fish hawk to scare it into dropping its meal, which the eagle would claim for itself.  That scare tactic by eagles often works on ospreys, who drop their prize to give the eagles what they want so they can get away.  The fish hawk is then safe and whole, ready to snare another fish.  But this osprey didn't give up its meal, rather the eagle gave up and soared away. 
     There were two adult bald eagles, perhaps a mated pair, soaring over the North East River that afternoon.  They were magnificent in flight, and their white heads and tails stood out vividly against dark storm clouds. 
     There were the usual scores of ring-billed gulls on the water of the North East River that afternoon.  And I noticed a few laughing gulls, both adults and young of the year, among them.  Laughing gulls are birds of the Atlantic coastline in summer.  They nest in salt marshes between the barrier islands and the mainland and take advantage of any food source they can handle.  They catch small fish and scavenge anything they can get hold of, including peanuts and popcorn people on beaches and boardwalks throw at them for the peoples' entertainment.
     But I'm always surprised to see a few laughing gulls inland.  As I watched the gulls and other birds in the area, a storm moved in, there were flashes of lightning and booms of thunder, which sent people scurrying to their cars, including me, and caused the gulls to fly up at once from the water in alarm. 
     About ten minutes later when I looked at the gulls on the water again, they were darker than they were before.  Puzzled, I looked at them with 16 power binoculars and saw that most of them were laughing gulls!  Where were they Before? I don't know.  But in groups of twos and threes and more, bunch after bunch, they were flying to docks.  I went to those docks and saw many each of laughing gulls and ring-billed gulls on them.  I counted 162 laughing gulls, half of them the brown young of the year.  I thought that was a large number of that kind of gull so far inland.
     But, of course, those gulls were done nesting for the year, as evidenced by all the young laughing gulls.  And since there numbers probably doubled or more in the past few months, laughing gulls as a species had to spread out to find food in places where they had not been until done raising young, including along he shores of the upper Chesapeake Bay and the North East River.  Supposedly they will remain at those feeding places until the threat of the coming winter drives them farther south along the sea coast.
     There were also a few Forster's tern catching small fish from the North East River while I was there.  These birds are smaller and whiter than the gulls, but fly just as swiftly.  They cruise over larger bodies of water, with their beaks pointed down, and watch the surface for vulnerable, small fish.  When prey is spotted, they hover into the wind momentarily to position themselves, then drop beak-first into the water and attempt to catch their finny victims in their bills.  They are often successful and emerge from the water with the prey in their beaks.             
     It was rewarding to me to see laughing gulls and Forster's terns so far inland.  But they were post-breeding birds that followed large bodies of water inland in their searches for food, bringing a bit of the sea coast with them.  

Raptor Counterparts

     Raptors are birds of prey; hawks, eagles and owls.  Hawks and eagles are related to each other, but owls are in a bird family of their own.  Yet all raptors have strong, sharp talons for catching and killing prey and hooked beaks for tearing off chunks of meat.  That is conversion, meaning although they are from different families, they have the same role in life and are, therefore, similarly equipped. 
     As we know, hawks hunt by day and owls do so mostly at night, which reduces direct competition for victims between those two groups of predatory birds.  Therefore, a kind of hawk and a type of owl can live permanently in the same niche, without much interference with each other.  Many of those hawk and owl species even nest in the same habitats, without direct competition from each other.
     All these raptors are camouflaged, except for adult bald eagles with their white heads and tails.  Hawks need that blending into their environment so they are not spotted when trying to ambush prey.  And owls need it so they can rest in the trees during the day, without being seen and harassed by small birds all day instead of getting their rest. 
     Many kinds of hawks and owls have a raptor counterpart in the other family, because of their similar lifestyles in the same habitats.  For example, red-tailed hawks and great horned owls are about the same size- large.  And they are counterparts, doing the same job in upland woods, fields and suburbs.  They are both capable of catching mice rats, rabbits and other prey of similar sizes.  But, of course, the hawks hunt for prey during the day and the owl does so mostly at night.  However, both these raptors raise young on platforms of sticks on tree branches, nurseries made by crows or herons, so there may be some rivalry for nesting sites between them. 
     Red-shouldered hawks and barred owls inhabit bottom land woods along impoundments and creeks, where they snare mice, small birds, frogs and other bottom land critters.  These raptors not only don't compete directly with each other because of the different times they hunt prey, but they also aren't rivals to red-tails and horned owls that inhabit a different niche in the uplands.
     Red-shoulders hatch offspring on stick platforms on tree limbs while barred owls rear young in tree hollows.  Therefore, they don't compete for nesting spots and both types of raptors can live in the same woods.  And barred owls don't rival horned owls or red-tails for cradles in the trees.
     Northern harriers and short-eared owls nest and live in open country, including prairies, tundra, marshes and tall-grass fields.  They are not direct competitors because harriers cruise low over the ground by day as they search for rodents, while short-ears do so at night.
     American kestrels and screech owls are small raptors in farmland.  But again they are not direct competitors for food because of the different times they hunt.  But they can be rivals for nesting cavities in trees, fence posts and boxes erected especially for them to raise young in.  However, screech owls are more prone to nesting in woodlots and suburbs, while kestrels generally stick to cropland habitats, thus reducing competition a bit.
     These have been some examples of raptors spreading themselves into different niches and diverse hunting times to help insure enough food for themselves and their offspring.  It seems that every niche has at least one form of life in it.  There are many species of life because there are many niches.        
          

Wildlife on a Charlotte Lawn

     I had a few minutes before it was time to leave for lunch.  I searched a bed of pine needles for lizards and almost immediately saw a female five-lined skink, a type of lizard.  She was about four inches long and beautiful, with alternating chocolate and beige lines running from nose to the base of her tail and a sky-blue tail. 
     We were visiting relatives in a wooded suburb of Charlotte, North Carolina for a few days in the middle of August.  Their lawn of trees and shrubbery is backed by a small patch of woods.  They also have a bird bath, bird feeder and hummingbird feeder near their back porch, all of which, with the vegetative shelter, attracted several birds of various kinds.  Their lawn and that whole neighborhood is lovely, peaceful and full of wildlife. 
     Add day, several kinds of birds visited the grain bird feeder to eat seeds, including the usual northern Cardinals, blue jays, mourning doves, house finches, Carolina chickadees, tufted titmice, downy woodpeckers and red-bellied woodpeckers.  But there were other species of birds at the feeder that surprised me for various reasons.
     A pair each of post-breeding brown thrashers and rufous-sided towhees fed on grain on the ground.  These birds are imprinted on dense thickets of shrubs and vines, in hedgerows between fields and along woodland edges.  But this neighborhood had bushes and the woodlot in back, which, apparently, was enough to attract these adaptable bird species.
     A big surprise was to see three eastern bluebirds at a bird feeder in summer.  Normally at that time they are feeding on a variety of invertebrates.  And I didn't think bluebirds had bills strong enough to handle seeds.  But when I was told there are bits of fruit in that grain feeder, the mystery was solved.  The bluebirds were eating the fruit, as they do in winter.
     I was thrilled to see a few brown-headed nuthatches among the needles of the red juniper tree to get invertebrates and their eggs, and at the feeder to eat grain.  Brown-heads are birds of southern pine woods.  We don't see them in the mid-Atlantic States, except in southern Delaware.    
     A couple of ruby-throated hummingbirds visited the hummingbird feeder and flowers in our relatives' yard, including those on the crepe myrtles.  As usual those hummers flew at each other spitefully, each one trying to claim all the food in the yard for itself.  They certainly helped to keep the yard lively. 
     Only two kinds of birds were still singing while we visited our relatives- Carolina wrens and mourning doves.  That species of wren is a permanent resident wherever it lives and so the males sing to proclaim territory the year around.  The doves are still nesting, therefore the males still coo to advertise their presence on breeding territories.
     I saw two kinds of woodland birds in the yard- blue-gray gnatcatchers and great crested flycatchers.  They probably nested in the woodlot in back.  But now, both species, as their names imply, were catching flying insects above the lawn.
     Two types of small lizards live in the Charlotte neighborhood.  They are green anoles and five-lined skinks.  Anoles mostly live in the trees where they snap up a variety of invertebrates.  Courting male anoles puff out out their red throats to attract females of their kind to mate.  Skinks generally live among fallen leaves on the ground where they, too, eat invertebrates.  Since these two types of lizards inhabit different niches, competition for food is lessened between them.
     Gray squirrels and eastern chipmunks came to the grain feeder to eat grain from the ground.  They need to be careful because there are hawks in the area.
     In fact, I saw an adult red-shouldered hawk attempt to catch a brown thrasher on the ground below the feeder.  I saw the thrasher repeatedly raise its wings in alarm and as I puzzled over that the red shoulder swooped down to grab it.  But the thrasher got away, not by flying away before the hawk, setting itself up for capture, but by flying under the hawk in the direction from which that raptor came.  The hawk overshot the thrasher and missed it.     
     Evenings and into the dark of night also had their share of wildlife.  Each evening we heard the stridulations of male true katydids and a few kinds of tree crickets.  Their wild, seemingly unending chanting or trilling is caused by the insects' rubbing wings or wings and legs together, depending on the species.  Usually we saw a bat or two swooping and diving before the darkening sky after flying insects.  One evening we heard a barred owl hooting a few times, adding more mystery and intrigue to the neighborhood at night.  Sometimes we see a cottontail rabbit or two on the lawn and a couple of times we saw a few white-tailed deer come to the bird bath to drink.
     Our relatives talked about the nocturnal raids of opossums and raccoons in the trash barrels.  During the morning we left to go home, it was announced that a young raccoon was trapped in the barrel.  When we went to the barrel to release the raccoon, a doe and her fawn ran across a neighbor's yard.  The lid was taken off the barrel, that container was kicked over and the young raccoon raced for safety and home.
     A few minutes later I was sitting in our car waiting to leave when I saw a young skink emerge from a cavity in an apple tree at eye level right by the car.  It laid in the sunlight for a few minutes to get warmer, then off it zipped, disappearing down the trunk.
     We all had a nice visit with fine company, stimulating chats and good meals.  And I, personally, had a good field trip from our relatives' back porch. 
              

Changing the Flying Guard

     From about 8 to 9 pm for several evenings from the second week in July to the second week in August of 2015, I watched the changing of the flying guard in a Lancaster County, Pennsylvania suburb.  I saw several kinds of creatures in the sky each evening, birds and insects at first and then bats, all of which were interesting, especially the bats. 
     While sunlight was still showing, I would see several chimney swifts careening and swooping left or right on swept-back wings after flying insects.  And, occasionally, I saw a barn swallow or two.  The swallows have thinner bodies and wings than the swifts.  Most of the local swallows hunted flying insects over farmland, including on the edge of the suburb.
     As I watched the swifts and swallows doing aerial acrobatics in the evening sky to catch flying insects, other creatures were noticeable in and above the lawns.  In July, hundreds of male fireflies came out of the grass at dusk and flashed their cold lights.  Northern cardinals and gray catbirds sang in the early part of July, while a few house finches perched on the very tops of a few tall Norway spruce trees.  And as each evening wore on, several robins went to roost in neighborhood trees.
     There were a couple of unusual happenings over that neighborhood as well.  One evening I saw three great blue herons fly majestically in a line from west to east.  And on another evening, I saw a sharp-shinned hawk zip into a Norway spruce to avoid the dive-bombing of up to 20 swifts.  I didn't know there were so many swifts in that neighborhood until that time.
     By late July, I heard the courtship trills and chants of at least a few kinds of male tree crickets that were invisible in the trees and shrubbery.  Crickets, katydids and grasshoppers rub their wings, or wings and legs together, depending on the species, to make the stridulations essential to bring the genders of each species together for mating.
     And then, finally, at dusk, the main attraction, the bats, zipped and swooped over the neighborhood to catch flying insects.  Most of them came from one direction, one to three or four at a time, evening after evening, as if from a roost that I never could find (just as well).  Time after time, I estimated close to 20 bats careened over that suburb on their way to feeding areas.  Then they would scatter and the sky became too dark to see them anymore.  They were either little brown bats or big brown bats: I couldn't tell which.  
     Bats are mammals, with fur, milk and warm blood.  And they are the only mammals that can truly fly, making them entertaining in the sky.  Bats in this area feed only on flying insects.
     Bats can "see" prey and objects  around them by hearing the echos from their own constant squeaking and forming mental pictures from those echos.  The squeaks go out, bounce off objects and return to the bats' ears.             
     Each evening in July and August, the chimney swifts and, later, the bats were interesting and entertaining as they swirled and dove in mid-air after their prey.  Nothing is as beautiful and intriguing as nature, no matter where it is.   

Nuthatch Diversion

     Nuthatches are an attractive and unique family of small, woodland birds that have characteristics of their own, particularly being able to walk down vertical tree trunks head first in their search for invertebrates and their eggs in crevices in the bark.  This is a trait no other family of birds has.
     All nuthatches come to feeders, especially in winter, to avail themselves of the easy pickings.  They are called nuthatches for their habit of pushing seeds into bark crevices to pound their shells open with their sturdy, sharp beaks to get the nutrition out.
     There are three kinds of nuthatches in eastern North America- white-breasted, red-breasted and brown-headed.  And, although they are all related and have traits in common, they have diverged into different habitats to take advantage of the same kinds of foods, but with less competition with their relatives for it.  And no matter what habitat they reside in, all nuthatches raise young in tree cavities, including abandoned woodpecker hollows.    
     White-breasted nuthatches are permanent residents in maturing deciduous forests and older suburban areas with their many tall trees across the United States, except in the treeless, mid-western prairies.  They seem formally attired with blue-gray upper parts, white bellies and faces and dark crowns.  They are the largest and possibly the most common species of nuthatch in North America.  They certainly are the most often seen by the majority of people, particularly in the suburbs.
     Attractive little guys, red-breasted nuthatches are a bit smaller than white-breasts.  They are again blue-gray on top, but peach-colored below, a way to distinguish between white-breasts and red-breasts.  Attracted to nesting in northern evergreen tree habitats, this species summers in mixed coniferous forests across Canada and down the Rocky and Appalachian Mountains.  But being migratory, they winter all over North America, from coast to coast and from the southern tip of James Bay in Canada south to the Gulf of Mexico.  The lack of food in the north some winters is why this type of nuthatch moves south for the winter.   
     Interestingly, red-breast pairs put sticky tree sap around their nesting cavities, presumably to stop predators from reaching into the hollows to eat the nuthatches' eggs or young.    
     Brown-headed nuthatches are adapted to living and nesting in pine woods, but in the southern United States, which separates them from both their relative species in eastern North America.  This species inhabits pine woods mostly in the Deep South, North Carolina and up the Atlantic Coast to southern Delaware.  Brown-heads are our smallest nuthatches.  Interestingly, brown-heads use small chips of bark as tools to pry loose other bits of bark to get the invertebrates underneath.
     Nuthatches are a small, but interesting, family of attractive birds with unique characteristics, particularly walking down vertical tree trunks head first.  But the different kinds have spread themselves into different niches to lessen competition for nesting space and food with their relatives.  However, all nuthatch species are enjoyable to experience.     

Hoot Owls

     When I was a child visiting people with my parents on wooded Mine Ridge in southern Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, I heard an owl hooting eerily after dark.  It frightened me at first, but the resident peoples' knowing smiles reassured me.  Later, I learned I had heard a great horned owl, one of two hoot owls in Lancaster County.  And, through the years, I have heard both species many times, in many places. 
      Some people call owls "hoot owls" and, indeed, great horned owls and barred owls, including in Lancaster County, do hoot, loudly.  But each of these owl species hoots with a different rhythm so they, and we, can distinguish between the species.  Them to find mates and we to identify them without seeing them.  Horned owl hooting starts with three quick hoots, followed by two long ones.  The classic hooting of barred owls has eight short hoots, followed by a descending "aahhh".
     The boisterous hooting of these owl species at night can be scary to some people.  But that calling is also thrilling, making the night "come more to life".  There always is an air of mystery and intrigue to the vocalizing of owls.
     Great horned owls are common in woods, and older suburbs with many tall trees, throughout North America, except in the high Arctic.  Barred owls live in bottomland woods near creeks, swamps and impoundments in the eastern two-thirds of North America from the southern tip of James Bay in Canada south to the Gulf of Mexico.  Barred owls are most common, however, in the Deep South.  By using different habitats, these two kinds of big owls lessen competition for space and food between them.
     Horned owls and barred owls are both permanent residents in Lancaster County, as they are everywhere.  Both are attractive with camouflaged feathering that allow them to be hidden when perching quietly in trees during the day so birds won't find them and pest them all day, interrupting their rest before hunting at night.
     Like all owls, these are hunters, feeding on rodents, rabbits and other creatures.  Barred owls are also inclined to catching frogs and other bottom land woods and water animals.  Both species usually stay away from he other one, but there is some overlap.
     In Lancaster County, horned owls begin courting in December.  By the end of January here, each female lays one to three eggs in a stick platform she commandeered.  Horned owls don't build nests, but take over those built by hawks, herons or crows.  About a month later the chicks hatch, leave their nurseries by mid-April, but are fed by their parents until the beginning of June.  Then they are on their own, just when their prey species are most abundant.  By courting and nesting in winter, these owls have their young independent when there's plenty of food available for them. 
     Barred owls lay one to three eggs in a tree hollow large enough to accomodate them.  They have competition for nesting cavities from a variety of animals, including raccoons, wood ducks, colonies of honey bees and other creatures.  They, too, have their offspring independent by summer when prey animals are most abundant.
     Horned owls and barred owls hoot loudly and are called "hoot owls" by some people who may not understand them.  But all owls are handsome in appearance, interesting in their daily habits, especially their hooting, and keep rodent populations under control.  And they are harmless to us.  They are worth enjoying and there's no reason to be alarmed by them.     
      

Kinglets and Gnatcatchers

     Recently I saw a blue-gray gnatcatcher fluttering about among the twigs of trees close to the porch of people I was visiting.  It was a dainty, little bird that reminded me of a tiny northern mockingbird, with its long-tail, overall shape and pale-gray color on top.  The white ring around each dark eye gave the gnatcatcher an innocent look.  As its name implies, that small bird was busily catching and eating tiny insects from the trees' leaves and twigs.
     Two kinds of kinglets and blue-gray gnatcatchers in eastern North America belong to the Old World family of warblers, with a few species in the New World.  Kinglets and gnatcatchers, being related, have characteristics in common.  They are all small, plain and thin-billed for eating tiny insects and insect eggs, but are still quite attractive.  These dainty birds  seem never to be still while flitting and foraging for food in the trees, making identification difficult.  They flick their wings and hover briefly before leaves and twigs while inspecting them for food, then dart after a tidbit.
     The kinglets are called golden-crowned and ruby-crowned because of the feathering on their crowns.  Male golden-crowns have orange crowns bordered with black stripes, while their mates have yellow ones.  Each male ruby crown has a red patch on top of his head.  Both species are otherwise olive in color with two vertical, white bars on each wing.  
     Both kinglet species nest in coniferous trees in Canada's boreal forests and down the Appalachian and Rocky Mountains.  And both species winter from the middle of the United States south to the Gulf of Mexico and Mexico.  We here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania usually see both types of kinglets during their spring and autumn migrations.
     Blue-gray gnatcatchers, however, nest in the treetops of moist, bottomland forests in the southern United States, north to Pennsylvania.  Though common, they aren't noticed much because the are small, camouflaged and stick to the trees where they can easily hide.  Occasionally a post-breeding gnatcatcher will forage for food in an older suburban area with its many tall trees. 
     Gnatcatchers make beautiful nests but we seldom see them unless one is blown out of a tree and is lying on he ground.  Gnatcatcher nurseries are lovely, deep, little cups of fine grasses, lined on the outside with lichens to camouflage the cradle and bound together with spider webbing.
     Though, generally, not easy to spot because of their small size and camouflaged feathering, kinglets and gnatcatchers are handsome and energetic, little birds.  They are worth watching for during the seasons they are in the reader's region.  
             

Third Generation Monarchs

     On the afternoon of August 7, 2015, I was driving through Lancaster County, Pennsylvania cropland on a few errands.  As I slowly drove by about a half dozen hay fields in a mile stretch of a country road, I watched those hay fields intently for wildlife.  Most of the fields were in flower, either with purple, fragrant alfalfa blooms, the lovely, pink blossoms of red clover, or both flowers together in the same field. 
     Cabbage white butterflies, yellow sulphur butterflies, silver-spotted skipper butterflies and bumble bees were among those flowers in abundance to sip nectar.  Barn swallows and tree swallows cruised swiftly low over the hay fields to snap up flying insects.  Then, suddenly, I saw a striking orange and black monarch butterfly on a red clover bloom, then another fluttering from blossom to blossom, and another until I had seen six monarchs in those flowering hay fields.  I'm sure there were many more. That was a good number, considering I hadn't seen any monarchs all summer, mainly because they are down in numbers because of herbicides which kills milkweeds, their larval food, and pesticides that kills insects themselves.   
     The most interesting part of seeing those monarchs today is that they won't make the trip to certain forests on mountains in Mexico to spend the winter.  But they are the parents of the fourth generation of monarchs, the generation each year that does make the trip. 
     The first generation of each year, which is the fourth one of the year before, leaves Mexico in March and migrates north into the United States.  There is a second generation and a third each summer as each generation of monarchs continues to push north and east.  But only the fourth generation of butterflies makes the trip to Mexico, starting about the middle of September.
     Females of the third generation of monarchs, as all their species does, mate and lay eggs on milkweed leaves.  The caterpillars hatch, eat milkweed foliage, grow, pupate and emerge as adult monarchs in September, ready to go to Mexico to escape the northern winter.
     I was excited to see those beautiful monarchs today.  Hopefully, they still have a bright future.  But we need to quit poisoning the land and its plants and animals.   

Fall Migrations of Grassland Sandpipers

     We mostly know sandpipers as those drab, little birds that flock together on mud flats and beaches during May and again late in summer.  Most of those sandpipers nest on the treeless Arctic tundra and winter in Central and South America.  But two kinds of unusual sandpipers, upland and buff-breasted sandpipers, nest and winter in extensive grasslands.  And when migrating south to avoid the northern winter, they even stop to rest and feed on invertebrates in grassland habitats.
     Here in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, we only see these kinds of sandpipers during their autumn migrations south to the Pampas grasslands of lower South America.  Uplanders come through here uncommonly in August and buff-breasts are here rarely in September.  But while they are here, they forage for invertebrates in extensive grass, such as at airports and sod farms, and recently harvested hay fields where the vegetation is still short.   However, their plumage allows them to blend into those habitats so well, they are difficult to spot.  One usually needs binoculars.  
     Their shared grassland habitat has shaped these sandpiper species to be what they are, similar in appearance.  Uppies and buff-breasts are much alike in light-brown feathering, streaked with darker markings that camouflages them.  They both have small, dainty heads, and long necks that periscope their eyes to see over the grass.  But uplands seem twice the size of buff-breasts.
     Upland sandpipers nest in grass habitats of Alaska, the Canadian and American prairies and the northern tier states of the eastern United States.  Buff-breasts rear offspring on the Arctic tundra where there are no trees or shrubbery.  
     Every August, I cruise along country roads in Lancaster County and look at recently cut hay fields to spot upland sandpipers.  I usually see a few, one or two here or one or two there.  Sometimes they gather in groups of four to eight in a field for a few days, then they are gone, migrating to southern South America.           
     Buff-breasted sandpipers come through here for the most part in early September, but they are tough to spot, although I try to see them once in a while.  Not only do they blend into their surroundings to the point of being invisible until they move, they are small, rare here and usually scattered among many fields in this farmland county.  And most buff-breasts migrate through the central part of Canada and the United States.  It's a red-letter day for me when I spot a buff-breast or two in local fields.    
     These two grassland sandpipers are ambassadors from far-away places that pass through Lancaster County and other places in North America.  They are uniquely lovely birds, if spotted.  Well worth the effort to find them.

Parking Lot Gulls

     Ring-billed gulls and laughing gulls are both smaller species of their clan, and are common in the Mid-Atlantic States.  The former kind is here in winter, along inland rivers and impoundments, and the Atlantic Seacoast, and the latter type along the Atlantic shore during summer.  Both species are adaptable and take advantage of several feeding opportunities, including scavenging discarded tidbits from parking lots and feeding on invertebrates in recently plowed fields, which is a joy and entertainment to many people.
     Adult ring-bills are pale gray on top with white heads, bellies and tails.  They also have a diagnostic black ring on their bill.  Their young, however, are mostly brown on top until they mature.  Adult laughing gulls are dark gray above, with white bellies and black heads.  Their young of the year are brown on top with white tails with a black terminal band on each one of them.     
     Ring-bills nest around lakes on the Canadian, mid-west prairies, and on the shores of the Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence River.  But they winter in the Middle Atlantic States, as in much of the United States.  Flocks of ring-bills often rest on large parking lots during winter, as they would on beaches and salt marshes.  They rise into the air as one group at the approach of a vehicle, but quickly settle on the black top again.  To them, our extensive fields and parking lots must seem like  expansions of their ancestral beaches.  Much of the civilized world was created for them.
     Laughing gulls are even more entertaining to many people vacationing along the Atlantic and Gulf Coasts in the United States.  These gulls nest in salt marshes along the Atlantic and Gulf Seacoasts, and catch crabs, small fish and other little critters from big bodies of water, scavenge dead fish and other animals and pick up edible tidbits discarded by people wherever those food items are found.  And these gulls are everywhere along the coast, and inland to some extent, to get those foods, over the water, and on beaches, boardwalks, lawns, streets and parking lots.  Many people purposefully feed laughing gulls to watch them hovering into the wind and dropping to the ground to get the foods thrown to them.  And all the while, wherever they are, there is the constant laughing cries of these beautiful gulls.
     Ring-billed gulls and laughing gulls are small kinds of gulls that are quite adaptable, taking advantage of many food sources almost everywhere between the two species.  Look for them, at least on parking lots at the appropriate times of year.  They are beautiful and entertaining.     

Reason to be There

     My wife and I visited Sunset Beach at Cape May, New Jersey for about an hour on the morning of August 5, 2015.  Sunset Beach is where Delaware Bay enters the Atlantic Ocean and, as its name implies, has a broad, sandy beach.  Several people were there fishing, walking on the sand and for other activities.  We were there to experience the scenery and water birds.  There weren't many kinds of birds at Sunset Beach, but they all had a reason to be there. 
     The first birds we saw were those icons along the Atlantic Seacoast in summer- laughing gulls.  They are the abundant gulls with black heads and loud cries that sound like someone laughing.  Their young of the year are mostly brown on top, without the black heads.
     The laughing gulls at Sunset Beach were everywhere, in the air, on the water trying to catch small fish, and perched on utility poles.  But when a gull noticed a tidbit of discarded food on the beach, it dropped quickly to seize and eat it.  Gulls, like vultures, obviously watch each other for evidences of food.  When one gull abruptly dropped to the beach to get food, other gulls saw that motion and realized food had been found.  All gulls within seeing distance flew quickly to the spot to try to get their share, creating entertainment in the process.
     We saw three types of terns at Sunset Beach- the large royals with their orange beaks, the tiny least terns with their yellow bills and common terns.  Gulls and terns are done nesting by this time of year and have scattered along the shores of larger bodies of water to look for ample food supplies.  All the tern tribe fly over the water in search of small fish near the surface.  When prey is spotted, they suddenly hover, then dive beak-first into the water with a tiny splash.  They catch their finny prey in their bills, rise from the water and swallow their victims whole and head-first.
     A few double-crested cormorants were also in Delaware Bay to catch fish.  They dive under water from the surface and swim deeper than the terns can dive to catch fish larger than the terns can handle.  All that reduces competition for food between terns and cormorants.
     We also saw two kinds of shorebirds on the sand at the shoreline at Sunset Beach, sanderlings and ruddy turnstones.  Both these species are recently down from nesting on the Arctic tundra.  Flocks of sanderlings flew low and swiftly along the beach, and one group trotted over the wet sand at the water line as they looked for invertebrates in the sand and water to eat.           
     Turnstones in twos and threes wandered over slightly drier parts of the beach to pick up invertebrates.  That choice of feeding location reduced rivalry for food with the sanderlings.
     While watching the water and beach birds, I noticed many green darner dragonflies, most of them flying north low over the beach like tiny helicopters.  They probably were picking off flies and other flying insects as they rapidly moved along.  In about a month, these dragonflies, and many others of their kind, will go south for the winter.
     Sunset Beach was interesting during the short time we were there.  And all the creatures I noticed had a reason for being there.       

Adaptable Bald Eagles, Ospreys and Peregrines

     The large and majestic bald eagles, ospreys and peregrine falcons have all greatly increased their numbers in the Middle Atlantic States, as elsewhere, in recent years.  They have all made an inspiring comeback.  That happened because of a ban on using DDT on fields in the United States, federal and state laws completely protecting these three magnificent raptors, the birds' tolerating human activities and their adjusting to human-made habitats and structures, particularly for nesting.
     But I think the most intriguing and, literally, concrete reason for their ballooning populations is their adapting to raising young on human-made structures.  Several pairs of bald eagles, for example, build huge nurseries of sticks and twigs on power towers, mostly near larger waterways and built impoundments where they catch live fish and scavenge dead ones.  Other pairs of eagles make cradles in large trees near water in farmland, a new environment for them.  I think a reason why they nest in cropland is because they scavenge a lot of dead chickens and other farm animals there through the year.  Today, more than 250 pairs of bald eagles nest in Pennsylvania alone.
     Today, most pairs of ospreys build large stick cradles on human-made objects, including power towers, buoys in rivers and bays, bridges, and platforms erected in large bodies of water especially for ospreys to nest on.  Ospreys also snare live fish in their clawed feet by diving from the air and plunging into the water.  And they tolerate the presence of human activities well, such as at St. Michaels on the Miles River off the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland, and Stone Harbor, New Jersey.
     There are about 150 nesting pairs of ospreys in five clusters in Pennsylvania.  Clusters of these stately, fish-catching, nesting hawks include along the Lower Susquehanna River, the upper Susquehanna River, the Upper Delaware River, the Lower Delaware River and the Upper Ohio River.
     Many pairs of peregrine falcons today rear offspring on tall buildings in cities in the Mid-Atlantic States, as elsewhere, including in Philadelphia, Allentown and Harrisburg in Pennsylvania and Wilmington, Delaware, and under river bridges at Philadelphia and in Lancaster County, for a few examples.  The handsome and solid-bodied peregrines are stream-lined for diving from high in the sky on pigeons, starlings, gulls, ducks and other kinds of birds to kill them for food.
     All protected fully by law, these large, diurnal raptors of great beauty and intrigue are also adaptable, making use of human-made habitats and structures to live and reproduce.  And through our laws and their adjustments to human activities, they have increased their populations greatly and we get to enjoy their magnificent presence, even in farmland and cities, and around constructed reservoirs.  It's a win-win situation for them and us.           

Dancing on the Ocean

     Wilson's storm petrels are interesting little birds that live on the open oceans, including in the northern hemisphere during summer, when they are not nesting.  We here in the United States sometimes see petrels off the coasts of the Atlantic Seaboard. 
     Wilson's storm petrels are abundant and circumpolar around Antarctica in the southern hemisphere during that hemisphere's summertime.  An estimated 100,000,000 individuals breed on Antarctic coastlines during summer in the southern hemisphere, when it is winter in the northern hemisphere.
     This species of petrels is seven inches long and has a sixteen inch wing span.  They are dark brown with white rumps and flanks.  And they have tube noses, which means they have one large nostril on top of the beak.      
     Wilson's storm petrels are the smallest warm-blooded animal that breeds in Antarctica.  Each pair nests in a crevice in a rock cliff in great nesting colonies of these birds, near the ocean, on the Antarctica continent.  Each female petrel lays one egg per year.  Petrels must live several years to raise enough young per pair to make up for losses and to exist in the millions.  And they have few predators on those rocky cliffs above the ocean.  Unfortunately, however, drifts of snow could cover the petrel's nurseries, killing the young inside.   
     During their breeding season, petrels shuttle between the ocean to catch small fish, shrimp and other tiny creatures from the water's surface and their burrows to feed those critters to their young under the cover of night to avoid the predation of gulls and skuas.  Each bird finds its burrow and youngster by a good sense of smell.  Probably day-traveling petrels were caught and eaten by those large, daytime, predatory birds, which meant their chicks also died, without descendants.  But those petrels that had been active at night, raised chicks to maturity, which reproduced.  Now all petrels are active only at night during the breeding season, because they are descendants of night-flying ancestors.  
     After the breeding season, and during the summer in the northern hemisphere, millions of Wilson's storm petrels drift north into the North Atlantic Ocean to feed on plankton, tiny fish and detritus on the surface, up to New England on the American side and Europe on the other side of the ocean.  Many of them can be spotted from shore at times.
     When feeding from the surface of the oceans, these petrels are in great flocks "dancing on the water".  Each individual flutters and hovers low over the water, with its long legs dangling to it.  Its wings are held aloft or are flapping into the wind or breeze to maintain lift and position just above the water while its pattering feet on the surface tension maintains the bird's stability over the water.  All these little birds, together, feeding just over the ocean water, look like dainty dancers.
     We see Wilson's storm petrels here in the Northern hemisphere only during summer, and then mostly over the oceans.  But their unique way of getting food is interesting to watch from a boat or shore while they are here between breeding seasons.