Hooded warbler easily wins fans among birders

Photo by Jean Potter • A male hooded warbler flits through the foliage of a rhododendron thicket.

The woods surrounding my home have been alive with birdsong. We’re almost ready to turn the calendar to June, but there’s been no diminishment in the fervor of the daily chorus.

The main members of the feathered choir are warblers. I’ve heard yellow-throated warbler, black-throated green warbler, black-and-white warbler, Northern parula, ovenbird, common yellowthroat and, my favorite, hooded warbler, morning and evening.

During the winter months when the hooded warbler absents itself from Northeast Tennessee, the species resides in the forests of Mexico, as well as in Belize, Costa Rica and other Central American nations.

Like many of the ruby-throated hummingbirds that make their home in the United States for the summer, the hooded warbler’s seasonal migrations take it across the vast open waters of the Gulf of Mexico. After that amazing crossing, these small songbirds disperse throughout the southeastern United States.

That birds as small as hummingbirds and warblers make this incredible migration twice yearly is one of nature’s most phenomenal feats of endurance. In a presentation by Kenn and Kimberly Kaufman that I attended six years ago, I learned that these tiny birds put on incredible fat reserves to help fuel their valiant Gulf crossings.

The warblers, also known as wood-warblers, are an exclusively New World family, numbering approximately 116 species. About 50 of these species make their home in the eastern United States and Canada for the spring and summer, departing in the fall and returning to tropical wintering grounds. Some are extremely bright and colorful birds. The hooded warbler is somewhere in the middle in a sliding scale that goes from dull to wow.

Other colorful warblers that share similar tastes in range and habitat with the hooded warbler include the American redstart, black-throated blue warbler and black-throated green warbler.

Readers who make it to the end of this weekly column will know that even my email address is a testament to my enthusiasm for the hooded warbler.

Hooded warblers nest in the woodlands around my home. So, from the time my favorite warbler returns in April until the last individual departs in October, I enjoy regular glimpses of this colorful and interesting bird. Like all warblers, the hooded warbler is quite energetic, dashing after tiny insects in the branches of shrubs and trees. Hooded warblers often forage close to the ground, which makes observing them easier.

Of course, birds are free to break the rules. One of my most memorable sightings of a hooded warbler involved a male singing from the upper branches of a dead pine tree. I’d estimate that the bird was at least 40 feet off the ground, singing his little heart out to attract a mate. I was standing on an elevated rise of land while the tree providing the warbler its perch was lower in a gully that actually placed bird and observer on a roughly level playing field.

The bird sang for many moments, which is not always the case with warblers. These birds tend to dash for cover at the slightest disturbance, but this enthusiastic male didn’t seem to pay and heed to the fact that most of its kin prefer to skulk in shrubs and dense rhododendron thickets no more than a few feet off the ground.

Back in the late 1990s, when I had just started out in birding, I observed two adult hooded warblers feeding a couple of young birds only recently out of the nest.

I was enjoying observing the sweet scene as the parent birds carried foods to the young birds, which begged incessantly and loudly when, unexpectedly, a song sparrow wandered into the scene.

The sparrow was brutally beset by the parent warblers, which attacked the intruder from all sides. The poor sparrow, having no clue to the reason for their ire, beat a hasty retreat. Sparrows are no threat, but that didn’t matter to these zealous parents.

When I first began birding, I was only dimly aware there was a family of birds known as warblers, which are now hands-down my overall favorite birds. The hooded warbler was one of the first birds I managed to identify on my own.

It’s one bird unlikely to be mistaken for any other. Every time I behold a hooded warbler, I marvel at the bird’s exquisite appearance. The gold and green feathers seem to glow brightly in the dim light of the shadowy thickets of rhododendron they prefer to inhabit. The black hood and bib surrounding the male’s yellow face stands out by virtue of its stark contrast from the brighter feathers. Large coal-black eyes complete the effect. The appearance of the male bird provides this species with its common name. The female has an identical yellow-green coloration as the male, although she is slightly more drab. She lacks the black hood and bib, although older females may acquire some dark plumage on the head and around the face. Both sexes also show white tail feathers that they constantly fan and flick as they move about in thick vegetation and shrubbery.

The warblers are, in short, an incredible family of birds. I’ve seen all but a handful of the species that reside for part of the year in the eastern United States. I still want to see a Connecticut warbler and cerulean warbler, as well as the endangered Kirtland’s warbler of Michigan and the golden-cheeked warbler of Texas.

I’ve come to think of the hooded warblers at my home as “my warblers.” There may be a kernel of truth to my belief. The website All About Birds in a profile on the species notes that a seven-year study conducted in Pennsylvania gave evidence that male hooded warblers are faithful to nesting territories from previous years. Approximately 50% of banded males were shown to return to the same area to breed again year after year.

So, some of those hooded warblers singing from the rhododendron thickets at my home are probably birds returning for consecutive spring seasons. Some of the warblers that returned back in April could be great-great-great grandchildren of those warblers that attacked the unfortunate song sparrow. At the least, it gives me pleasure to think so.

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To share a sighting, ask a question or make a comment, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com, an address that shows my profound fascination for this particular bird.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A male hooded warbler peers from a tangle of branches.

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