A scattered flock of about 120 American robins ran and stopped, ran and stopped, as they listened and watched for earthworms and other kinds of invertebrates on a greening meadow in mid-March of this year. A few days later,I saw several robins, and a pair of mallard ducks, a killdeer plover and two male red-winged blackbirds getting a variety of foods along a clear rivulet bordered by lush, green grass.
The robins and other birds were lovely sights in those human-made habitats. And those robins had just come north for the nesting season, much to the thrill of people who were waiting for those birds' spring arrival. At that time, and through the rest of March, robins seem to be most everywhere- on lawns, bare-ground fields and along tiny waterways.
Some robins and eastern bluebirds spend winters in southeastern Pennsylvania, but others drift south to escape the northern winter. The birds that stay north consume berries in hedgerows, woodland edges and suburban areas. But those individuals that went south, suddenly return north by the middle of March, to the joy of many people.
The attractive robins and bluebirds are related to each other in the thrush family. Fledgling robins and bluebirds have spotted chests, as do thrushes. But adult robins and bluebirds have reddish-brown chests.
Toward late March, each male robin repeatedly sings his lusty melodies from trees and shrubs on lawns to establish his territory and attract a mate for raising young. Robins mostly sing before sunrise when younger suburban areas ring with many robin concerts at once. But robins utter their sweet songs any time of day, including after sunset.
And by late March, male bluebirds sing their delightfully gentle phrases of three or four whistled notes while perched on fence posts and tree twigs on the edges of fields and meadows. The male bluebird, himself, is striking with the blue sky on his upper parts and the Earth on his chest.
By early April, female robins and bluebirds look for nesting sites, the robins in the forks of trees and bushes in suburban areas. Female bluebirds search for tree cavities created by woodpeckers or wind ripping limbs off trees, exposing the wood to agents of decay. They look for those hollows in trees in meadows, hedgerows and woodland edges.
Some people erect bird houses in weedy pastures and field edges especially for bluebirds to nest in. And that species does, if not chased out by house wrens, house sparrows or tree swallows. Placing bluebird houses in the right habitat is the key to keeping away much of the feathered competition for those boxes. House wrens prefer woodland edges and house sparrows like to be around buildings. But tree swallows enjoy much the same habitat as bluebirds. Incidentally, an entrance diameter of one and a half inches will keep starlings from taking over bluebird boxes.
By mid-April, female robins and bluebirds build nurseries. Robins use mud and grass to create open cups among twigs in trees and shrubs. Bluebirds layer grass in tree cavities and bird boxes. Each female of both related species lays an average of four blue eggs in her cradle. The young hatch about twelve days later and fledge their nurseries toward the end of May. Many females of both kinds soon start a second brood that fledges by late July.
Interestingly, American robins and eastern bluebirds, as species, have benefited from Europeans' clearing of forests in the eastern United States to create farmland. Several kinds of spot-breasted thrushes thrived in those seemingly unending woodlands. Robins and bluebirds, however, were restricted to woodland clearings that had some shrubbery and trees, but were limited in acreage. But when those forests were cut away for fields and pastures, spot-breasted thrushes retreated with the woods, but robins and bluebirds expanded their ranges and numbers with the unrelenting expansion of farmland that was created. Today robins are adapted mostly to younger suburbs and bluebirds have adjusted to weedy fields, both of which are human-made habitats.
Robins and bluebirds are common today in the built habitats they adapted to. And each kind of bird brings much beauty and intrigue to the habitat it reigns in. We are blessed with their presence.
Saturday, March 28, 2020
Saturday, March 21, 2020
Under Red Maple Flowers
Red maple trees are striking with innumerable red blossoms from the latter half of March to the second week of April, here in southeastern Pennsylvania, as in much of the northeastern United States and eastern Canada. And I associate those lovely, little blooms with many other natural beauties in woodland swamps where red maples are wild and suburban areas where that type of tree is abundantly planted for its many beauties the year around.
The ancient, primordial choruses of hundreds of cold-blooded male spring peepers and American toads ring out from under the blush of red maple flowers' multitudes in wooded swamps, day and night, from late March through much of April. Each peeper repeatedly peeps shrilly for a minute or more in shallow water, stops, then continues peeping, while the toads trill musically, time after time, for about 30 seconds each trill while sitting upright in the shallows of a pond in woodlands and thickets. And, occasionally, while those tailless amphibians are chorusing to attract mates for spawning in the water, a pair of Canada geese will fly over, honking boisterously.
The innumerable blooms of lesser celandines carpet many a damp woodland floor yellow under the soft-red of red maple flowers. And the moister parts of those woods floors are green with developing skunk cabbage leaves. The red canopies, yellow rugs and lush-green skunk cabbage foliage paint pretty pictures of new life in abundance in local woods toward the end of March.
At this time, too, pairs of lithe wood ducks are looking for available nesting cavities in which the hen woody will lay her clutch of about 12 eggs. Many sycamore and red maple trees have hollows where wind ripped limbs off the trees, exposing the wood to agents of decay. Sometimes those attractive woodies perch on the branches of blooming red maples to rest. The maple flowers and ducks together in the tree tops are lovely sights.
I also associate red maple blossoms with greening grass, the lovely flowers of Veronicas, crocuses daffodils and forsythia, and the welcome singing of mourning doves, American robins and northern cardinals under the canopies of planted red maples on the lawns and along streets in suburbs. Some of the birds sing from the midst of those red canopies, adding their feathered beauties to that of those wonderful flowers.
Little colonies of purple grackles perch in the red canopies of red maples that happen to be near the dark-green of spruce and fir trees the grackles will eventually raise young in. The grackles add their iridescent purple and green beauties to that of the maple blossoms.
Blushes of red maple flowers also help highlight the beauties of the blue sky and white, cumulus clouds on sunny days. How wonderful to look up through red canopies to the sky and scudding clouds that constantly change shapes. And, perhaps, a hawk or vulture might be drifting and circling before one of those attractive clouds.
Red maple foliage adds much beauty to local wooded swamps and suburban areas. It is a major part of my pleasant memories of spring, and many of its wonders, in southeastern Pennsylvania.
The ancient, primordial choruses of hundreds of cold-blooded male spring peepers and American toads ring out from under the blush of red maple flowers' multitudes in wooded swamps, day and night, from late March through much of April. Each peeper repeatedly peeps shrilly for a minute or more in shallow water, stops, then continues peeping, while the toads trill musically, time after time, for about 30 seconds each trill while sitting upright in the shallows of a pond in woodlands and thickets. And, occasionally, while those tailless amphibians are chorusing to attract mates for spawning in the water, a pair of Canada geese will fly over, honking boisterously.
The innumerable blooms of lesser celandines carpet many a damp woodland floor yellow under the soft-red of red maple flowers. And the moister parts of those woods floors are green with developing skunk cabbage leaves. The red canopies, yellow rugs and lush-green skunk cabbage foliage paint pretty pictures of new life in abundance in local woods toward the end of March.
At this time, too, pairs of lithe wood ducks are looking for available nesting cavities in which the hen woody will lay her clutch of about 12 eggs. Many sycamore and red maple trees have hollows where wind ripped limbs off the trees, exposing the wood to agents of decay. Sometimes those attractive woodies perch on the branches of blooming red maples to rest. The maple flowers and ducks together in the tree tops are lovely sights.
I also associate red maple blossoms with greening grass, the lovely flowers of Veronicas, crocuses daffodils and forsythia, and the welcome singing of mourning doves, American robins and northern cardinals under the canopies of planted red maples on the lawns and along streets in suburbs. Some of the birds sing from the midst of those red canopies, adding their feathered beauties to that of those wonderful flowers.
Little colonies of purple grackles perch in the red canopies of red maples that happen to be near the dark-green of spruce and fir trees the grackles will eventually raise young in. The grackles add their iridescent purple and green beauties to that of the maple blossoms.
Blushes of red maple flowers also help highlight the beauties of the blue sky and white, cumulus clouds on sunny days. How wonderful to look up through red canopies to the sky and scudding clouds that constantly change shapes. And, perhaps, a hawk or vulture might be drifting and circling before one of those attractive clouds.
Red maple foliage adds much beauty to local wooded swamps and suburban areas. It is a major part of my pleasant memories of spring, and many of its wonders, in southeastern Pennsylvania.
Monday, March 16, 2020
Inland Shorebirds in Spring
About sunset one March evening when I was about twelve, I was walking through a plowed field in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania farmland and suddenly flushed up a robin-sized, brown and white bird that had an orange tail. It flew up right in front of me and called loudly, startling me. I later learned that the bird was a killdeer plover that was either migrating north or preparing to nest in that bare-ground field.
I like February, March and April here in southeastern Pennsylvania because of the excitement of longer periods of daylight each succeeding day, warmer weather, on average, the blooming of early flowers, the migration of certain kinds of birds and the courting and nesting of other bird species. Killdeer plovers, Wilson's snipe and American woodcocks are inland shorebirds that winter here in limited numbers. But many other individuals of each kind migrate into this area and beyond during March, bolstering the numbers of each of these beautiful, interesting species here, and in the northeastern United States.
The related killdeer, snipe and woodcocks all live in moist, bottomland habitats, but in different niches, which makes them distinct species. However, being cousins to each other, they all have certain traits in common. They all consume invertebrates off the ground. Each female of all species lays her four eggs in a shallow cradle on the ground. The young of all species hatch fully fuzzed, open-eyed, and ready to run and feed themselves within 24 hours of hatching. And the eggs, young and adults of each kind are camouflaged, blending them into their surroundings, which hides them from predators. I must confess, I can not see any of them standing still in the open in their natural habitats. I can only spot them when they move across the ground, or fly.
Killdeer summer and raise young on gravel bars along streams, creeks and impoundments, gravel parking lots and railroad beds, bare-ground fields, short-grass lawns and meadows, and similar, open habitats. Camouflage is necessary in such shelter-less niches these birds evolved in.
But killdeer also have another defensive strategy- the broken-wing act. If a predator gets near a killdeer nest or foraging young, the adults flop about like they are crippled, which lures predators to those parents and not the eggs or chicks. When the predator is led far enough away from the young, the adults suddenly take flight, leaving the predator in confusion, while the youngsters are safe, for the moment at least.
Snipe nest farther north than southeastern Pennsylvania. But some winter here and migrate through this area. Snipe frequent the edges of brooks and streams in cow pastures, where they probe their long beaks into mud under shallow water to pull out and ingest worms and other kinds of invertebrates.
Snipe are beautifully feathered in brown and darker streaking which camouflages them. It takes me a bit of looking through binoculars to finally spot some of these inland sandpipers.
But the most intriguing inland sandpiper in this grouping is that crepuscular recluse with a long "nose", the American woodcock of bottomland woods and thickets. Through the last several years, I have seen many courtship displays of male woodcocks performed before the soft-pink of spring sunsets and bare, deciduous trees.
Soon after sunset, most every evening through March and April, each male woodcock flies out from his ground retreat in a bottomland woods or thicket and lands on a bare-ground spot in a field or other open habitat. There he stands with his long beak on his chest and vocally "peents" for up to a minute or more. Then he takes off in spiral flight into the darkening sky, higher and higher, while a special feather on each wing twitters rythmically. At the height of his climb, he vocally sings several bubbling notes, then dives to the ground, levels off and lands on his bare spot of soil to repeat his performance again, and again. Only hunger or female woodcocks willing to mate stop his interesting courtship displays for the evening. But each male woodcock will be back displaying the next
evening, weather permitting.
These inland shorebirds help make southeastern Pennsylvania more interesting each spring. The challenge, of course, is finding them.
I like February, March and April here in southeastern Pennsylvania because of the excitement of longer periods of daylight each succeeding day, warmer weather, on average, the blooming of early flowers, the migration of certain kinds of birds and the courting and nesting of other bird species. Killdeer plovers, Wilson's snipe and American woodcocks are inland shorebirds that winter here in limited numbers. But many other individuals of each kind migrate into this area and beyond during March, bolstering the numbers of each of these beautiful, interesting species here, and in the northeastern United States.
The related killdeer, snipe and woodcocks all live in moist, bottomland habitats, but in different niches, which makes them distinct species. However, being cousins to each other, they all have certain traits in common. They all consume invertebrates off the ground. Each female of all species lays her four eggs in a shallow cradle on the ground. The young of all species hatch fully fuzzed, open-eyed, and ready to run and feed themselves within 24 hours of hatching. And the eggs, young and adults of each kind are camouflaged, blending them into their surroundings, which hides them from predators. I must confess, I can not see any of them standing still in the open in their natural habitats. I can only spot them when they move across the ground, or fly.
Killdeer summer and raise young on gravel bars along streams, creeks and impoundments, gravel parking lots and railroad beds, bare-ground fields, short-grass lawns and meadows, and similar, open habitats. Camouflage is necessary in such shelter-less niches these birds evolved in.
But killdeer also have another defensive strategy- the broken-wing act. If a predator gets near a killdeer nest or foraging young, the adults flop about like they are crippled, which lures predators to those parents and not the eggs or chicks. When the predator is led far enough away from the young, the adults suddenly take flight, leaving the predator in confusion, while the youngsters are safe, for the moment at least.
Snipe nest farther north than southeastern Pennsylvania. But some winter here and migrate through this area. Snipe frequent the edges of brooks and streams in cow pastures, where they probe their long beaks into mud under shallow water to pull out and ingest worms and other kinds of invertebrates.
Snipe are beautifully feathered in brown and darker streaking which camouflages them. It takes me a bit of looking through binoculars to finally spot some of these inland sandpipers.
But the most intriguing inland sandpiper in this grouping is that crepuscular recluse with a long "nose", the American woodcock of bottomland woods and thickets. Through the last several years, I have seen many courtship displays of male woodcocks performed before the soft-pink of spring sunsets and bare, deciduous trees.
Soon after sunset, most every evening through March and April, each male woodcock flies out from his ground retreat in a bottomland woods or thicket and lands on a bare-ground spot in a field or other open habitat. There he stands with his long beak on his chest and vocally "peents" for up to a minute or more. Then he takes off in spiral flight into the darkening sky, higher and higher, while a special feather on each wing twitters rythmically. At the height of his climb, he vocally sings several bubbling notes, then dives to the ground, levels off and lands on his bare spot of soil to repeat his performance again, and again. Only hunger or female woodcocks willing to mate stop his interesting courtship displays for the evening. But each male woodcock will be back displaying the next
evening, weather permitting.
These inland shorebirds help make southeastern Pennsylvania more interesting each spring. The challenge, of course, is finding them.
Tuesday, March 10, 2020
Pintails and Blue Geese
I have never seen so many northern pintail ducks and blue geese as I have in February of 2020 at Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge near the Chesapeake Bay on Maryland's Eastern Shore. Pintails and snow geese have traditionally wintered in shallows of the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays. There they feed on aquatic vegetation, grasses in salt marshes and corn kernels in fields. But both species, and Canada geese mallard ducks and tundra swans, adapted to wintering on the shallow retention basins at Blackwater and other wildlife refuges along those two estuaries.
Every day in February of this year, I watched great flocks of snow geese, many of them the dark color phase called blue geese, swirl down together onto those retention basins like a blizzard of snow, after feeding in nearby fields and marshes. As the geese settled on those freshwater basins, they formed an island of white and dark birds on the water that grew larger and larger as more and more geese spiraled down.
I had been watching those pintails and both color phases of snow geese through February on our computer screen as transmitted by a live camera mounted on a causeway between the two retention basins. That camera made me feel as though I was standing, in person, on that causeway.
The large numbers of pintails at Blackwater were impressing. Handsome and streamlined, each male pintail has two long tail fathers that give this species its name, and helps identify the kind of duck it is. Female pintails, however, are brown with darker streaking, and have no long tail feathers. But the hens' blending into their habitats keeps them safer from predators while brooding eggs and raising ducklings.
Northern pintails' courtship flights in late winter and early spring are their most interesting activity, which I witnessed at Blackwater many times. Three to five males would gather around a hen pintail on the water and show off before her. Soon the female pintail took flight, with all the drakes swiftly following her. The male who keeps up with the racing hen the best will be her mate for the coming breeding season. Hen pintails hatch ducklings in grassy nests on the ground around ponds and marshes in the prairies of Central United States and Canada.
Tens of thousands of snow geese of both colors dominated the twin retention basins at Blackwater. And I was surprised to see so many blue geese in those constantly, excitedly honking masses of them landing on the basins. Blue geese are regularly abundant in the Mississippi River flyway in winter, but not along the East Coast.
Blackwater's retention basins are often full of waterfowl in winter and early spring, including feeding tundra swans and Northern pintails, and resting Canada geese and snow geese. Snow geese are well-named because many of them are all-white with black wing tips, they feed in snow and they are in the United States in winter.
But to people with limited knowledge about snow geese, there seems to be several kinds of geese in a snow goose flock. Adult snow geese are white with black wing tips. Immature snow geese have white and gray feathers. Adult blue geese are dark-gray with white heads and necks. Snow geese that had one white parent and one dark parent are dark with white heads, necks and bellies. And immature blue geese are dark all over. Snow geese might appear to be several different kinds of geese, but they are all one species.
I was impressed and entertained by the numbers and activities of Northern pintails and blue geese at Blackwater Refuge last month. There is always something new and intriguing going on in nature.
Every day in February of this year, I watched great flocks of snow geese, many of them the dark color phase called blue geese, swirl down together onto those retention basins like a blizzard of snow, after feeding in nearby fields and marshes. As the geese settled on those freshwater basins, they formed an island of white and dark birds on the water that grew larger and larger as more and more geese spiraled down.
I had been watching those pintails and both color phases of snow geese through February on our computer screen as transmitted by a live camera mounted on a causeway between the two retention basins. That camera made me feel as though I was standing, in person, on that causeway.
The large numbers of pintails at Blackwater were impressing. Handsome and streamlined, each male pintail has two long tail fathers that give this species its name, and helps identify the kind of duck it is. Female pintails, however, are brown with darker streaking, and have no long tail feathers. But the hens' blending into their habitats keeps them safer from predators while brooding eggs and raising ducklings.
Northern pintails' courtship flights in late winter and early spring are their most interesting activity, which I witnessed at Blackwater many times. Three to five males would gather around a hen pintail on the water and show off before her. Soon the female pintail took flight, with all the drakes swiftly following her. The male who keeps up with the racing hen the best will be her mate for the coming breeding season. Hen pintails hatch ducklings in grassy nests on the ground around ponds and marshes in the prairies of Central United States and Canada.
Tens of thousands of snow geese of both colors dominated the twin retention basins at Blackwater. And I was surprised to see so many blue geese in those constantly, excitedly honking masses of them landing on the basins. Blue geese are regularly abundant in the Mississippi River flyway in winter, but not along the East Coast.
Blackwater's retention basins are often full of waterfowl in winter and early spring, including feeding tundra swans and Northern pintails, and resting Canada geese and snow geese. Snow geese are well-named because many of them are all-white with black wing tips, they feed in snow and they are in the United States in winter.
But to people with limited knowledge about snow geese, there seems to be several kinds of geese in a snow goose flock. Adult snow geese are white with black wing tips. Immature snow geese have white and gray feathers. Adult blue geese are dark-gray with white heads and necks. Snow geese that had one white parent and one dark parent are dark with white heads, necks and bellies. And immature blue geese are dark all over. Snow geese might appear to be several different kinds of geese, but they are all one species.
I was impressed and entertained by the numbers and activities of Northern pintails and blue geese at Blackwater Refuge last month. There is always something new and intriguing going on in nature.
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