Photo by Hans Toom/Pixabay • An ovenbird, a member of the warbler family, perches on a branch. The bird gets its name from the shape of its nest, which resembles an old-fashioned Dutch oven. When male ovenbirds arrive on a potential nesting territory in the spring, they begin singing their loud, ringing “Teacher! Teacher! Teacher!” call almost tirelessly.

Autumn arrived Sunday, Aug. 14, heralded by a barely audible chip note that shattered the almost eerie silence that had accompanied my late morning woodland stroll up to that point. That timid chip note opened the floodgates, and I soon had a mixed flock of songbirds shadowing me, the scolding chorus increasing in volume as they demanded an explanation for my intrusion.

Of course, it’s not yet fall according to the calendar. The season won’t officially arrive until Thursday, Sept. 22. But there’s a day that comes every year that provides a tiny spark that kicks off my annual pastime of looking for migrating birds during my favorite season of the year.

The bird that unleashed the torrent of angry birds turned out to be an ovenbird, a species of warbler that nests in local woodlands every summer. In rapid succession, I also glimpsed a female black-throated blue warbler and a female hooded warbler. I also found it interesting that these warblers, particularly the hooded warbler, were also bus maneuvering to get a better look at me. I suppose it pays to be aware of one’s surroundings.

The in-your-face members of the mixed flock I encountered included a strident group of tufted titmice and some equally cantankerous Carolina chickadees. A couple of red-eyed vireos also took part in the songbird cacophony as these various birds joined forces to demand to know what I was doing in “their” woods.

Each warbler produces its own variation of the chip note, which is a vocalization that these nervous and energetic birds make as they flit from branch to branch through the woods. Learning to listen for the “chip” notes of the warblers that often join these mixed flocks is a great way to increase your warbler-watching opportunities. By “weeding” out the chickadees and titmice, it became easier to pinpoint the location of birds like the vireos and warblers.

Chip notes function for different purposes, but are usually produced when an individual warbler is alarmed by something, such as a human walking past their location. In some species, chip notes also provide a “contact call” to keep birds in touch with each other and aware of teach other’s location.

Many warbler species chip frequently while migrating, but there are also a few species such as Northern parula and black-and-white warbler that don’t usually produce these helpful chip notes. Unlike songs, which are almost exclusively produced by male warblers, both sexes produce chip notes.

I didn’t have binoculars with me when I encountered the flock, but I managed to put together enough behaviorisms and visual cues to identify the three species of warblers. 

Ovenbirds differ from other songbirds in that they do not hop along a branch or over the woodland floor. Ovenbirds walk. They take slow, deliberate steps, which is exactly how the bird I saw moved, sidling along a branch gently sloping toward the ground.

Female black-throated blue warblers are drab, especially in comparison to the breathtaking males of the species. They do have a little white square on each wing that is a good way to quickly identify them. At close range, I easily detected the square even without benefit of binoculars. I’m getting older, and my vision’s declined somewhat, but I’m pleased to still manage even tricky warbler identifications.

The female hooded warbler was easy. As she flew from branch to branch, she constantly fanned her tail, flashing the white outer tail feathers in a trademark manner for the species. Female hooded warblers don’t shine with the same radiance as the males, and they also lack the namesake black hood. A good look, however, is usually sufficient for identifying them. 

Most people have probably heard of a “murder” of crows as a way to describe a flock of these particular birds. Warblers also have their collective names. According to the Birdorable Blog, a flock of warblers is often referred to as a bouquet, a confusion, a fall, a cord or a wrench of warblers. 

This fact was new to me. I personally like “wrench of warblers.” It has alliteration and it describes how these amazing little songbirds can definitely “wrench” one’s attention from other matters.

I’ll be getting distracted a lot this fall as I seek not only warblers, but other migrants such as nighthawks and flycatchers, thrushes and tanagers, grosbeaks and sparrows, as well as raptors and shorebirds. August, September and October are busy months for some of our feathered friends. Keep alert and see if you can encounter your own “wrenches” of warblers this autumn.

If you’d like to share observations, make a comment or ask a question, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

The broad-winged hawk needs a better publicist.

Photo by USFWS • Broad-winged hawks nest in the region during the summer, but these raptors stage massive migration flights every fall to return to their winter range in Central and South America. These hawks are smaller relatives of such raptors as red-tailed hawk and red-shouldered hawk.

Monarch butterflies with their impressive migration flights to reach mountains in Mexico where they will spend the winter and ruby-throated hummingbirds with their twice-a-year non-stop crossings of the Gulf of Mexico have consumed much of the press coverage for long-distance migrants. Even the Arctic tern, a bird most people will never see, has monopolized the phenomenon of migration due to its astounding migratory journeys from the Arctic Circle to the Antarctic Circle. That feat, incidentally, equals a 18,641-mile round trip. 

The broad-winged hawk, known scientifically as Buteo platypterus, thrills onlookers every September by staging phenomenal migratory flights that can include hundreds or thousands of individual birds. Outside of birding circles, however, the broad-winged hawk is not nearly as widely known as the monarch butterfly or Eastern North America’s ruby-throated hummingbird.

The genus Buteo includes the broad-winged hawk’s larger kin, including red-tailed hawk, rough-legged hawk, red-shouldered hawk and ferruginous hawk. Outside the United States, raptors in the buteo genus are often known as “buzzards.” When the first European colonists came to the New World, they applied the term buzzard to both types of native vultures as well as the large raptors like Swainson’s hawk that reminded them of the ones back in Europe such as the common buzzard.

Some of the buteo species have adapted to life on islands, including the Galapagos hawk and the Hawaiian hawk. There’s an endangered sub-species of broad-winged hawk known as the Puerto Rican broad-winged hawk that resides in forests on the island of Puerto Rico. 

Some of these hawks have quite descriptive names, including the white-throated hawk, gray-lined hawk, zone-tailed hawk and short-tailed hawk, as well as long-legged buzzard, jackal buzzard and red-necked buzzard.

The broad-winged hawk is a relatively small hawk, ranging in body length from 13 to 17 inches. As is the case with most raptors, females are larger than males. The broad-winged hawk is a predator, but they prey on relatively small prey, including  insects, amphibians, snakes, crustaceans, rodents and the occasional songbird.

These hawks are extremely vocal during their summer stay in wooded areas across the Eastern United States. It’s their piercing two-part whistled call that often draws the attention of onlookers to the bird’s presence. 

These hawks are already growing restless. In the first days of August, I saw three broad-winged hawks in different locations in the span of a couple of days. Young hawks have left the nest and are gaining a degree of independence. They will soon join their parents for the yearly migration to southern wintering grounds as far south as southern Brazil. 

Some famous places to witness the annual broad-winged hawk migration include Hawk Ridge, Minnesota, and Hawk Mountain, Pennsylvania. 

Closer to home, birders have gathered every September since 1958 for the Mendota Fire Tower Hawkwatch. The site is located atop Clinch Mountain at an old fire tower near Mendota, Virginia. The site straddles the county line between the Virginia counties of Russell and Washington and reaches an elevation of 3,000 feet.

Even without traveling to a hawkwatch site, it’s not too difficult to see one of these raptors in September. I’ve seen large flocks, or kettles, of broad-winged hawks while birding on Holston mountain near Elizabethton.

All too often, hawks and other raptors don’t receive the love they deserve from the public. They may even run afoul of misinformed individuals who may regard all predatory birds as “bad.” The reality is that all hawks are valuable components of a healthy, working ecosystem, with each species filling a certain niche.

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Stevens has been writing weekly about birds since 1995. To share a sighting, ask a question or make a comment, email ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.