Category Archives: Birding

Birding is a popular pastime for many Americans.

Limpkin discovery in December caps off the year in birding

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Photo courtesy of Tom and Cathy McNeil • A limpkin in Hampton, Tennessee, stunned the local birding community with its appearance in a most unlikely location.

At the end of the year, it’s a good time to look back. All years deliver some surprises when it comes to bird sightings, but 2023 seemed to truly produce some unusual and totally unexpected sightings for birders in Northeast Tennessee and beyond.

In the waning days of December, one of the biggest local bird surprises of the year took place in Hampton in Carter County when the birding community got word of a limpkin hanging out on the Doe River behind a trailer park. The bird, which usually ranges no farther north than Florida, is not exactly one that would be expected in Northeast Tennessee in the final days before Christmas.

 

Tom McNeil, a fellow birder, posted the news on his Facebook page.

“A big thanks to my brother, Ed McNeil, for alerting the Hampton community to keep an eye out for this limpkin that has been sneaking around since probably October,” Tom wrote.

Regular readers of this column will recall that Tom and his wife, Cathy, have seen several unusual birds this year, including storm-driven American flamingos in Tennessee and North Carolina, as well as an ancient murrelet at Chickamauga Dam near Chattanooga. Then, just as the year’s winding down, up pops a limpkin practically in their back yard.

According to Tom’s post, David Vines first reported the limpkin in November, but it has remained quite elusive.  However, Ashley Taylor spotted the bird on Dec. 17 and let Tom’s brother know that she saw it at the Rivers Edge community.

“I texted Brookie and Jean Potter,” Tom wrote. “They were on it in no time. Cathy and I rushed down and added it to our Carter County life list.”

Tom credited some awesome networking in the birding community and beyond in bringing the limpkin’s presence to light.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A limpkin wanders near a canal in Orlando, Fla., in October-November of 2007.

The limpkin, known by the scientific Aramus guarauna, is also called carrao, courlan and crying bird. It’s a large wading bird related to rails and cranes, and the only species in the family Aramidae. Limpkins are found mostly in wetlands in warm parts of the Americas, from Florida to northern Argentina, but has been spotted as far north as Wisconsin.

These birds feed on mollusks, with the diet dominated by apple snails. Its name derives from its “limping” gait when it walks.

I’ve seen and heard limpkins on numerous occasions during visits to Florida. They are unique birds and can become so acclimated to humans that I have observed several limpkins at some of the busy Disney theme parks near Orlando, Florida.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The limpkin remained present in the River’s Edge trailer park in Hampton on Christmas Eve, 2023. The bird has been spotted in different locations around the small town of Hampton since October.

My mom and I got to see the visiting limpkin on Christmas Eve. On a whim, we drove through the trailer park that had been the location for previous sightings. We drove all the way to the end of the road and were headed back out when we found the bird busy feeding in a yard of one of the trailers.

Why this bird is haunting the Doe River in Carter County, apparently for the past couple of months, is a bit of a mystery. It’s not likely to find apple snails in the Doe, but there are probably crayfish, small fish and plenty of aquatic invertebrates that will keep a limpkin nourished. The recent dip in temperatures hasn’t seemed to affect the bird, although it would not often be exposed to such cold in its usual range.

It’s like I’ve indicated many times in this column. Birds have wings, and they know how to use them. They can show up in some of the most unlikely places. Keep your eyes open and you may be surprised by what you find. Best wishes to all the readers of this column. I hope everyone sees plenty of good birds in 2024.

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To share a sighting, make a comment or ask a question, email ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

 

Column, which is turning 28 years old, began with a profile on juncos

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Photo by simardfrancois from Pixabay • The dark-eyed junco is a winter visitor at many bird feeders in the region, but this bird also nests every summer on some high elevation mountains in the region.

I wrote my first bird column on Sunday, Nov. 5, 1995, which means this weekly column is marking its 28th anniversary this week.

This column has appeared in a total of six different newspapers, which I regard as a personal achievement, as well as an accomplishment for our feathered friends. It’s on their behalf that I pen these weekly efforts to promote conservation and good will toward all birds. I have also posted the column as a weekly blog posting since February 2014 at http://www.ourfinefeatheredfriends.com.

I’ve played detective, helping people identify everything from “rain crows,” or cuckoos, to Muscovy ducks, chukars and double-crested cormorants. I’ve observed unusual birds, including white pelicans, brants and roseate spoonbills, in Northeast Tennessee, Southwest Virginia and Western North Carolina and spotlighted them in these columns.

While I’ve had some vision challenges this past year, I still take delight in the kaleidoscopic parade of colorful warblers that pass through the region each spring and fall as well as the fast-paced duel of ruby-throated hummingbirds and the occasional rufous hummingbirds straying through the region.

At my home, I also provide sunflower seed and other supplemental food for the resident birds like Carolina chickadees, white-breasted nuthatches, song sparrows and downy woodpeckers.

Even as I tweak my anniversary column for “Feathered Friends,” parts of the region just experienced the first heavy frost. This prognostication of approaching winter weather is a perfect time to dust off this week’s column, which is a revision of the first bird column I ever wrote. This column focused on a common visitor to yards and feeders during the winter months. In fact, dark-eyed juncos should be returning to the region any day. Here, with some revisions I have made through the years, is that first column.

Photo by Ken Thomas • A dark-eyed junco perches on some bare branches on a winter’s day.

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Of all the birds associated with winter weather, few are as symbolic as the dark-eyed junco, or “snow bird.” The junco occurs in several geographic variations.

John V. Dennis, author of “A Complete Guide to Bird Feeding,” captures the essence of the junco in the following description: “Driving winds and swirling snow do not daunt this plucky bird. The coldest winter days see the junco as lively as ever and with a joie de vivre that bolsters our sagging spirits.” The dark-eyed junco’s scientific name, hyemalis, is New Latin for “wintry,” an apt description of this bird.

Most people look forward to the spring return of some of our brilliant birds — warblers, tanagers and orioles — and I must admit that I also enjoy the arrival of these birds. The junco, in comparison to some of these species, is not in the same league. Nevertheless, the junco is handsome in its slate gray and white plumage, giving rise to the old saying “dark skies above, snow below.”

Just as neotropical migrants make long distance journeys twice a year, the junco is also a migrating species. But in Appalachia, the junco is a special type of migrant. Most people think of birds as “going south for the winter.” In a basic sense this is true. But some juncos do not undertake a long horizontal (the scientific term) migration from north to south. Instead, these birds merely move from high elevations, such as the spruce fir peaks, to the lower elevations. This type of migration is known as vertical migration. Other juncos, such as those that spend their breeding season in northern locales, do make a southern migration and, at times, even mix with the vertical migrants.

During the summer months, a visit to higher elevations mountaintops is almost guaranteed to produce sightings of dark-eyed juncos. Juncos may nest as many as three times in a season. A female junco usually lays three to six eggs for each nest, which she constructs without any assistance from her mate.

Juncos are usually in residence around my home by early November. Once they make themselves at home I can expect to play host to them until at least late April or early May of the following year. So, for at least six months, the snow bird is one of the most common and delightful feeder visitors a bird enthusiast could want.

Juncos flock to feeders where they are rather mild-mannered — except among themselves. There are definite pecking orders in a junco flock, and females are usually on the lower tiers of the hierarchy. Females can sometimes be distinguished from males because of their paler gray or even brown upper plumage.

Since juncos are primarily ground feeders they tend to shun hanging feeders. But one winter I observed a junco that had mastered perching on a hanging “pine cone” feeder to enjoy a suet and peanut butter mixture.

Dark-eyed juncos often are content to glean the scraps other birds knock to the ground. Juncos are widespread. They visit feeders across North America. The junco is the most common species of bird to visit feeding stations. They will sample a variety of fare, but prefer such seeds as millet, cracked corn or black oil sunflower.

The juncos are a small branch of the sparrow clan. Some of the other juncos include the endangered Guadalupe junco, yellow-eyed junco, Baird’s junco and volcano junco. The last one on the list is endemic to the Talamancan montane forests of Costa Rica and western Panama. Baird’s junco is named for Spencer Fullerton Baird, an American ornithologist and naturalist.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A dark-eyed junco visits a hanging feeder.

Baird served as secretary for the Smithsonian Institution from 1878 until his death in 1887. He greatly expanded the natural history collections of the Smithsonian from 6,000 specimens in 1850 to over two million by the time of his death.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this introduction to juncos. There’s something about winter that makes a junco’s dark and light garb an appropriate and even striking choice, particularly against a backdrop of newly fallen snow.

Of course, the real entertainment from juncos come from their frequent visits to our backyard feeders. When these birds flock to a feeder and began a furious period of eating, I don’t even have to glance skyward or tune in the television weather forecast. I know what they know. Bad weather is on the way!

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I’ve not seen the first junco of the season, but I did observe a close relative (white-throated sparrow) on the morning of Oct. 24 at my home.

If you’d like to share your first sighting this season of dark-eyed juncos, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com. As always, the column is also a line of communication with fellow bird enthusiasts. I’ve enjoyed sharing stories about birds with countless readers over the past 28 years. I can also be reached on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Dark-eyed junco nests on high mountain slopes during the summer month. This dark-eyed junco was photographed at Carver’s Gap on Roan Mountain during the summer nesting season.

Some birds expert at conjuring thrills and chills

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Photo from Pixabay • The great tit, a bird related to titmice and chickadees, has acquired a taste for bat brains. Scientists have documented great tits in the mountains of Hungary killing a small species of bat to consume their brains.

NOTE: This column originally ran in November of 2018.

The ultimate coma victim is the fabled zombie, but that’s not likely to afflict any of our feathered friends, right? Well, consider the great tits of Hungary, which are relatives of our tufted titmouse and Carolina chickadee. These birds — at least the Hungarian ones — have apparently acquired a taste for brains.

Not human brains, thankfully. The victims of these brain-hungry great tits are a species of bat — a flying creature often associated with the modern celebration of Halloween, as well as legends about vampires — that shared the habitat of these birds in the Bükk Mountains of Hungary. As it turns out, the tits only hunted bats, in this case a tiny species known as common pippistrelle, out of dire necessity.

Bat ecologists Péter Estók and Björn M. Siemers, after observing the odd behavior of the great tits during some winter seasons, conducted a study to see if great tits are consistent devourers of bats’ brains. They discovered that the birds did hunt the bats and had even learned to detect a special call the bats make as they emerge from hibernation. The ecologists conducted their study over two years and learned that the great tits teach others of their kind the special art of hunting bats. They also learned that the birds made efficient killers, dragging the bats from their roosts and cracking their skulls to get at their brains.

However, when provided with plenty of alternative food, including such favorite items as bacon and sunflower seeds, the great tits chose to eat these items rather than actively hunt bats. The researchers concluded that great tits only resort to harvesting the brains of small bats during times of scarcity during harsh winters. The bizarre story is even featured in the title of a fascinating book by Becky Crew titled “Zombie Birds, Astronaut Fish, and Other Weird Animals.”

So, if humans have nothing to fear from brain-hungry birds, are there any birds that we should fear? Some experts suggest that precautions might be in order if one expects to come into close proximity with a southern cassowary, which is the third-tallest and second-heaviest living bird, smaller only than the ostrich and emu.

The cassowary, a native of New Guinea and northeastern Australia, has developed a reputation as a fearsome bird capable of injuring or killing humans. According to ornithologist Ernest Thomas Gilliard, cassowaries deserve their reputation. In his 1958 book, “Living Birds of the World,” he explained that the second of the three toes of a cassowary is fitted with a long, straight, dagger-like claw which can sever an arm or eviscerate an abdomen with ease. According to Gilliard, there have been many records of natives being killed by this bird.

A thorough study, however, has partly exonerated the cassowary from these misdeeds. In a total of 150 documented attacks against humans, cassowaries often acted in self-defense or in defense of a nest or chicks. The only documented death of a human took place in 1926 when two teenaged brothers attacked a cassowary with clubs. The 13-year-old brother received a serious kick from the bird, but he survived. His 16-year old brother tripped and fell during the attack, which allowed the cassowary to kick him in the neck and sever the boy’s jugular vein.

So we can rest easier knowing that murderous birds that reach a height of almost six feet tall are unlikely to terrorize us should we travel to the lands down under. A more ancient relative of the cassowary, however, might have been a different story had humans lived during the same time period.

Phorusrhacids, also known as “terror birds,” were a group of large carnivorous flightless birds that once had some members reign as an apex predator in South America before they went extinct around two million years ago. The tallest of the terror birds reached a height of almost 10 feet. Titanis walleri, one of the larger species, even ranged into what is now the United States in Texas and Florida.

Terror birds were equipped with large, sharp beaks, powerful necks and sharp talons. Their beaks, which would have been used to kill prey, were attached to exceptionally large skulls. Despite their fearsome appearance, these birds probably fed on prey about the size of rabbits. Perhaps not knowing this, Hollywood has cast these birds as monsters in such films as 2016’s “Terror Birds” and 2008’s “10,000 BC.”

Besides, casting birds as the villains had already been done back in 1963 when Alfred Hitchcock released his film, “The Birds,” based loosely on a short story by Daphne du Maurier. The film, which starred some big Hollywood names such as Rod Taylor, Tippi Hedren, Jessica Tandy, Suzanne Pleshette and Veronica Cartwright, cast a whole new light on a “murder” of crows. Today, the film has achieved the status of a Hollywood classic. I guess it just goes to show that werewolves, zombies and other Halloween monsters have nothing on our fine feathered friends.

Fall Bird Count detects 121 species

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Photo by Hans Room/Pixabay • A blackpoll warbler found during the Fall Bird Count represented a rare appearance by this species on the seasonal count, which has been held for 53 consecutive years. A purple gallinule found in Washington County represented another extremely rare find.

The 53rd consecutive Elizabethton Fall Bird Count was held Saturday, Sept. 30, with 30 observers in about 12 parties. The count area included Carter County, as well as the surrounding counties of Johnson, Sullivan, Unicoi and Washington.

The weather was good, with a temperature range between 54 and 82 F. Participants tallied 121 species, plus one unidentified Empidonax species. The Empidonax flycatchers, or “Empids,” as birders fondly lump them, are birds so similar in appearance they cannot reliably identified in the field unless they are vocalizing. Unfortunately, the Empids are largely silent in autumn.

This total is slightly below the recent 30-year average of 125 species, according to longtime compiler Rick Knight. He noted that the all-time high was 137 species in 1993.

Knight said that a count highlight was a lingering immature purple gallinule in Washington County.

The list:

Canada goose, 850; wood duck, 40; mallard, 179; common merganser, 6; northern bobwhite, 3; ruffed grouse, 1; and wild turkey, 37.

Pied-billed grebe, 4; rock pigeon, 362; Eurasian collared dove, 1; and mourning dove,172.

Yellow-billed cuckoo, 5; black-billed cuckoo, 1; common nighthawk, 2; chimney swift, 246; and ruby-throated hummingbird, 17.

Virginia rail, 1; purple gallinule, 1; killdeer, 45; Wilson’s snipe, 1; and spotted sandpiper, 2.

Double-crested cormorant, 84; great blue heron, 34; great egret, 3; green heron, 3; black vulture, 29; and turkey vulture, 141.

Osprey, 7; northern harrier, 1; sharp-shinned hawk, 5; Cooper’s hawk, 4; bald eagle, 7; red-shouldered hawk, 6; broad-winged hawk, 1; and red-tailed hawk,19.

Barn owl, 2; Eastern screech-owl, 17; great horned owl, 4; barred owl, 4; and Northern saw-whet owl, 1.

Belted kingfisher, 26; red-headed woodpecker, 3; red-bellied woodpecker, 69; yellow-bellied sapsucker, 7; downy woodpecker, 39; hairy woodpecker, 12; northern flicker, 54; and pileated woodpecker, 30.

American kestrel, 16; merlin, 1; great crested flycatcher, 1; Eastern wood pewee, 18; Empidonax species, 1; and Eastern phoebe, 97.

Yellow-throated vireo, 2; blue-headed vireo, 31; red-eyed vireo, 5; blue jay, 438; American crow, 505; fish crow, 7; and common raven, 20.

Tree swallow, 220; barn swallow, 1; Carolina chickadee, 195; tufted titmouse, 168; red-breasted nuthatch, 17; white-breasted Nuthatch, 64; and brown creeper, 3.

House wren, 3; Carolina wren, 177; blue-gray gnatcatcher, 1; golden-crowned kinglet, 5; and ruby-crowned kinglet, 4.

Eastern bluebird, 152; veery, 1; gray-cheeked thrush, 6; Swainson’s thrush, 43; wood thrush, 5; and American robin, 113.

Gray catbird, 38; brown thrasher, 9; Northern mockingbird, 80; European starling, 615; cedar waxwing, 106; and house sparrow, 37.

House finch, 42; pine siskin, 2; American goldfinch, 123; chipping sparrow, 95; field sparrow, 11; dark-eyed junco, 83; Savannah sparrow, 3; song sparrow, 84; and Eastern towhee, 62.

Eastern meadowlark, 17; red-winged blackbird, 10; brown-headed cowbird, 2; and common grackle, 10.

https://www.nps.gov/articles/blackpollmigration.htm

Ovenbird, 6; Northern waterthrush, 3; black-and-white warbler, 2; Tennessee warbler, 73; common yellowthroat, 12; hooded warbler, 13; American redstart, 10; Cape May warbler, 23; northern parula, 11; magnolia warbler, 20; bay-breasted warbler, 28; Blackburnian warbler, 5; chestnut-sided warbler, 6; blackpoll warbler, 1; black-throated blue warbler, 21; palm warbler, 21; pine warbler, 14; yellow-rumped warbler, 6; and black-throated green warbler, 15.

Scarlet tanager, 9; Northern cardinal, 169; rose-breasted grosbeak, 26; blue grosbeak, 3; and indigo bunting, 12.

Observers in this year’s Fall Bird Count included Fred Alsop, Jerry Bevins, Rob Biller, Tammy Bright, Debi and J.G. Campbell, Ron Carrico, Bill and Linda Cauley, Catherine Cummins, Dave Gardner, David and Connie Irick, Rick and Jacki Knight, Roy Knispel, Vern Maddux, Joe McGuiness, Tom McNeil, Alson Ovando, Susan Peters, Brookie and Jean Potter, Lia Prichard, Pete Range, Judith Reid, Judi Sawyer, Bryan Stevens, Kim Stroud and Charlie Warden.

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To ask a question, share a sighting or make a comment, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Hummingbird season is approaching its peak

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Photo by Bryan Stevens • Keep hummingbirds happy with a sugar water solution of four parts water to one part sugar.

Thomas Hood, who lives near Burnsville, North Carolina, shared a note about his summer hummingbirds.

“We have a bunch of ruby-throated (hummingbirds),” Thomas wrote in an email.

He noted that last year, he hosted as many as 40 individual hummingbirds. This year he estimates he has hosted as many as 20.

“Late visitors this year, but they put on a great airshow,” he added.

He said that he has two feeders up and two handheld ones that he uses to attract hummingbirds to his home in the North Carolina mountains.

Thomas also shared a video of his tiny flying visitors.

In a follow-up email, he noted that the hummingbird population continues to grow.

“We love the entertainment they provide,” he wrote. “After the big storm yesterday, we estimated there are now near 30.”

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Thomas’s email was another reminder that it has been a busy season for female hummingbirds. Those that have been successful with their nesting were able to fledge twin hummingbirds and encourage them to spread their wings and leave the nest.

For hummingbirds, it’s invariably two eggs per nest for some good reasons. First, the nest is so small — about the size of a walnut half-shell — that there is barely room for two eggs, let alone more. Second, once the young hatch, the nest has just enough room to accommodate them as they grow, fed well by their mother. Third, feeding two hungry young hummingbirds is a demanding task. A female hummingbird has to find enough food to fuel her own body and help her young in the nest grow and thrive. It’s a full-time job during the daylight hours. She’s pressed hard to succeed at raising two young. Attempting to care for more would most likely prove impossible.

Now that many female hummingbirds have finished the task of bringing forth a new generation of hummingbirds, the leisurely fall migration can begin.

Hummingbirds are not as frantic about moving south in the fall as they are single-minded about heading north every spring. Numbers of these birds always reach a peak in late summer and early fall at my home, and this year’s shaping up to be a repeat of past ones.

Hummingbird species number around 340, making the family second in species only to the tyrant flycatchers in sheer size. Both of these families consist of birds exclusive to the New World.

With so many hummingbird species, people have been hard pressed to give descriptive names to all these tiny gems. Some of the dazzling array of names include little hermit, hook-billed hermit, fiery topaz, sooty barbthroat, white-throated daggerbill, hyacinth visorbearer, sparkling violetear, horned sungem, black-eared fairy, white-tailed goldenthroat, green mango, green-throated carib, amethyst-throated sunangel, green-backed firecrown, wire-crested thorntail, festive coquette, bronze-tailed comet, black-breasted hillstar, black-tailed trainbearer, blue-mantled thornbill, bearded mountaineer, colorful puffleg, marvelous spatuletail, bronzy inca, rainbow starfrontlet, velvet-purple coronet, pink-throated brilliant, coppery emerald, snowcap, golden-tailed sapphire and violet-bellied hummingbird.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Male ruby-throated hummingbird show the namesake red throat. The feathers on a male’s throat are iridescent, which means they can change when seen from different angles. In poor light, the ruby-red throat can look almost black.

Our own hummingbird, which we can claim from April through October every year, is the ruby-throated hummingbird. Ruby-throats are remarkable birds that nest throughout the eastern United States, as well as southern Canada. In winter, most ruby-throats withdraw to Central America and Mexico, although a few winter in Florida. They are famous for the amazing feat of crossing the Gulf of Mexico twice each year as they travel to their nesting grounds and then back to their overwintering homes.

The next generation of hummingbirds always helps swell the number of these tiny birds in our yards in late summer and early fall. It’s our duty as hosts to keep them safe as they stop in our yards and gardens during their fall migration. Many of the hummingbirds in the fall will be making their first migration, so they will need all the help we can provide to make a successful journey.

Perhaps consider enhancing your plantings of summer flowers while also continuing to offer multiple sugar water feeders. Keep the sugar water mix at a four parts water to one part sugar ratio. Don’t offer honey in your feeders. When mixed with water, it can spoil and spread fungal diseases.

Remember that hummingbirds don’t subsist on sugar water alone. They also eat numerous tiny insects and spiders to obtain the protein they need for their dietary needs, so don’t use insecticides near feeders or flowers that hummers are likely to visit.

So, until October frosts eventually drive them out of the region, enjoy the ruby-throated hummingbirds while you can.

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Bryan Stevens has written about birds since 1995. Share a sighting, make a comment or ask a question by emailing him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A ruby-throated hummingbird lifts its wings to shake water droplets off its back.

Indigo bunting’s blue appearance is a trick of the light

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Photo by heronworks/Pixabay • A male indigo bunting visits a feeder for a meal of seeds. These birds are fairly common in the region during the summer months.

 

The indigo bunting is one of the reasons I love to pay attention to the clientele visiting my feeders. This small songbird likes to reside in the boundary region where forests and woodlands meet fields and pastures. Personally, the indigo bunting has always been a bird that is suggestive of the long, hot days of summer.

One of my earliest and still quite vivid birding memories is a recollection of a shockingly blue bird atop a blue spruce tree in my yard. Several decades later, the tree is no longer standing, but these beautiful birds — I now know those long-ago summer visitors were indigo buntings — still return each year to my yard and gardens.

Indigo buntings usually arrive in the region in late April, and I’ve seen them linger until late October, although most indigo buntings have left the region by late September.

Upon arrival, male indigo buntings become tenacious singers, repeating their jumbled notes even during the hottest hours of summer afternoons. The preference of this small songbird is to sing from the tops of tall trees, where they are often concealed by the green leaves. When I do get a glimpse of the obscured songster, often all I see is a dark shape silhouetted against the bright sky. Sometimes, if he plunges from the upper branches into the woodland understory, I get that telltale glimpse of blue feathers.

The male indigo bunting is the only solid blue bird in the eastern United States, but it’s all an illusion — literally a trick of the light. The indigo bunting’s feathers are not really blue; the male’s brilliant azure plumage is caused by the process of diffraction of light around the structure of the bird’s feathers. This process scatters all but the blue light, and the resulting color shifts from black to blue to turquoise as the angle of reflected light changes. In bright light, it can even look unnaturally vivid blue. In poor light, however, an indigo bunting male can appear black. Fortunately, indigo buntings have both a characteristic body shape and song, so even if the birds are not seen in their best light, they can still be recognized.

Like many species of songbirds, the male is by far the most colorful. In this instance, the male is also responsible for the species’ name. Indigo is a blue dye that was once an important crop in the South. The drab female may boast some blue highlights in her plumage. Juvenile birds just out of the nest also resemble the female. Pay close attention to any indigo buntings you observe as summer progresses. Juvenile birds will look mostly brown with just a hint of blue in the wings and the tail. These will be the young buntings that were hatched in spring and early summer. They will often accompany their parents to feeders.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The male indigo bunting is a resplendent bird.

Indigo buntings are particularly fun birds to observe in late summer. Indigo bunting juveniles, like the young of many other birds, beg for tidbits from parents by “bowing,” spreading their wings and shivering. These actions usually prompt a parent to pop some morsel into an impatient youngster’s open bill. Indigo buntings are relatively easy to view. They frequent weedy fields and roadside brush.

The indigo bunting belongs to a genus of birds known as Passerina, which is included the family Cardinalidae, which includes birds like Northern cardinal and rose-breasted grosbeak. They are often lumped into a group known as North American buntings, although they are not closely related to such birds as snow bunting and lark bunting. The latter is even recognized as the official state bird for Colorado, a unique honor for this group of birds. The other members of the Passerina genus include lazuli bunting, varied bunting, painted bunting, rose-bellied bunting, orange-breasted bunting and blue grosbeak.

Worldwide, other birds known as buntings include such descriptively named species as slaty bunting, corn bunting, white-capped bunting, gray-necked bunting, cinereous bunting, lark-like bunting, cinnamon-breasted bunting, chestnut-eared bunting, little bunting, yellow-throated bunting, golden-breasted bunting, black-headed bunting, red-headed bunting and yellow bunting.

The male indigo bunting is one of the most colorful birds to visit feeders in the region. This species is also extremely fond of millet seed. I like to have some feeders stocked with millet when the buntings begin to return each spring. They will also feed on thistle and sunflower seeds. Away from our feeders, they also devour plenty of seeds from various noxious weeds. Because of the indigo bunting’s appetite for the seeds of destructive weeds, it is considered a beneficial bird.
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Bryan Stevens has been birding since the 1990s and has written about birds and birding since 1995. Email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com to share sightings, ask questions or make comments.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Newly-returned neotropical migrants, such as this Indigo Bunting, increased the total number of species for the annual spring count.

Ovenbird is season’s first returning warbler

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By Hans Toom from Pixabay • A patch of orange feathers on the crown of an overbid’s head often goes unseen. This shy and retiring bird is more often heard than seen.

It’s gotten to be a bit of a guessing game every spring about which of the warblers will be the first to return to my home.

In 2021, the first warbler to return in the spring was a male Northern parula that arrived on April 9. In 2022, this same species was the first to return, albeit a few days later than the previous year’s date.

The Northern parula didn’t used to be one of the first returning warblers at my home. That honor used to go to hooded warbler or black-throated green warbler. This year, an ovenbird beat all of its kin to arrive on Friday, April 7, in the woodlands around my home, followed a few days later by a black-throated green warbler. This year’s first hooded warbler was a bit tardy and didn’t return until April 23.

The ovenbird is not one of the brightly colored warblers, such as black-throated blue warbler or yellow warbler. The ovenbird is a small brown bird with a white breast marked with dark streaking — an appearance that bears a superficial resemblance to the larger thrushes that share the same woodland habitat. The only hint of color is an orange crown patch bordered by dark stripes atop the bird’s head. Even this orange crown patch is not easily seen. When agitated, an ovenbird may raise its head feathers, which makes this orange mark easier to detect. The ovenbird also shows a distinct white ring around each eye, as well as pink legs and a pinkish bill.

By Hans Toom from Pixabay • The ovenbird gets its name from the shape of its nest, which is said to resemble an old-fashioned Dutch oven.

The resemblance to North America’s brown thrushes didn’t go unnoticed by some early American naturalists. Painter and famous naturalist John James Audubon painted a pair of ovenbirds, which he knew as “golden-crowned thrushes.” When comparing the two names, one can’t help but wish that the inaccurate but more romantically descriptive golden-crowned thrush had stuck.

Unfortunately, ovenbirds are stubborn about letting themselves be seen. They’re easily heard. The males begin singing a loud, rollicking “Teacher! Teacher! Teacher” song almost as soon as they arrive on potential nesting grounds.

The ovenbird, unlike many warblers, is not named for its appearance. Instead, the bird’s name derives from the shape of the nest it builds. The nest is a domed structure placed on the ground, woven from vegetation and containing a side entrance. Early European settlers in North America thought the nest looked like a Dutch oven, hence the name “ovenbird” for the small warbler with the intricate nest.

In April and continuing into May, a couple of dozen warbler species will pass through Tennessee. Some of these warblers find area woodlands and other habitats to their liking. They will pause, explore and perhaps decide to spend their summer nesting season in Northeast Tennessee and Western North Carolina rather than continue migrating farther north.

Many of the warblers that pass through each spring, however, are destined to travel a much longer distance before settling down in their favored habitats for the summer nesting season. These warblers include the Tennessee warbler, Nashville warbler, Cape May warbler, blackpoll warbler and Connecticut warbler. Most of these species nest as far north as New England and Canada.

Others find the Southern Appalachians to their liking. Some of the first warblers to return each year include the Louisiana waterthrush, which favors rushing mountain streams, as well as species such as black-throated green warbler, hooded warbler, ovenbird, black-and-white warbler, worm-eating warbler and common yellowthroat.

The Northern parula offers an abundance of identifying characteristics. Adult males are bluish gray overall with a yellow-green patch on the back and two white wingbars. A chestnut band separates the male’s bright yellow throat and chest. Adult females are often a bit paler and typically lack the male’s breast band. Both males and females have distinctive white eye crescents.

Most warblers lead frenetic lives. They often sing high in the tops of trees, but they do occasionally venture closer to the ground, particularly when foraging for prey, which consists of a variety of insects and small spiders. The Northern parula is even more restless than most of its kin.

The more reliable means of locating a Northern parula is to listen for the male’s buzzy, ascending song. He is a persistent singer from the time of his arrival until mid-summer.

A quirk involving nesting material is somewhat unique to this warbler. In much of the southern United States, the Northern parula conceals its nest inside strands of Spanish moss draped from the limbs of live oaks and other trees. In the Southern Appalachians and other locations farther to the north, the absence of Spanish moss means that the birds rely on various Usnea lichens, which are sometimes referred to as “Old Man’s Beard.”

A pair of Northern parulas will attempt to raise two broods in a nesting season. The female lays two to seven eggs and does most of the nest construction.

Look for spring’s warblers in the coming weeks. Feel free to share any sightings with me by emailing ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The Northern parula’s geographic location during the nesting season determines its use of nesting materials.

 

Share your first sightings of spring hummingbirds

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Photo by Georgia Lens / Pixabay

The website Journey North noted in a post on March 15, that hummingbird migration along the Pacific Coast has been impacted by the crazy weather that California has experienced in recent weeks.

In the eastern United States, however, the annual migration of ruby-throated hummingbirds is proceeding pretty much on schedule.

According to Journey North, volunteers along the Gulf Coast and in the Southeast have been reporting arriving ruby-throated hummingbirds since early March.
I fully expect that ruby-throated hummingbird migration will bring the first individuals to Northeast Tennessee, Southwest Virginia, and Western North Carolina in early April.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Male ruby-throated hummingbird show the namesake red throat. The feathers on a male’s throat are iridescent, which means they can change when seen from different angles. In poor light, the ruby-red throat can look almost black.

According to the website, most first spring observations of hummingbirds are males, although a few females are being spotted. Male hummingbirds, the posting noted, arrive first so they can find and defend a territory.

As always, spring migration can be a challenging time for hummingbirds. Temperature, wind patterns and storms can influence the pace of migration.
Even once these tiny birds make their epic spring crossing of the Gulf of Mexico, they will need time to rest and refuel before moving northward. By mid-March, the advance of ruby-throated hummingbirds has usually reached states as Georgia and South Carolina. By the end of March, these tiny flying gems have reached states such as Tennessee and North Carolina.

It’s time to get those sugar water feeders outside and waiting for the early arrivals. Once the chance of late-season freezes has passed, consider planting some colorful native flowers to provide nectar sources for hummingbirds.

Northeast Tennessee usually gets its first spring hummingbirds the first week of April. If you’re seeing hummingbirds, I’d love to know. I have tracked arrivals for several years now. To share your first spring sighting of a ruby-throated hummingbird, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com or contact me on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler. Please include the date and time of your sighting. I also welcome the sharing of other details about your sightings.
In the meantime, take steps now to welcome hummingbirds back and keep them safe during their stay.

Some ways of ensuring that our hummingbird guests are kept healthy and secure are simply common sense. For instance, don’t use pesticides, herbicides or any other sort of toxin anywhere close to the vicinity of a sugar water feeder or a flower garden. Hummingbirds are such tiny creatures with such intense metabolisms that it only takes a small amount of any harmful substance to sicken or kill one of these little flying gems.

Feeding hummingbirds is easy, but many people try to complicate the process. Only common, pure cane sugar, mixed to a ratio of four parts water to one part sugar, is a safe choice for these birds.

For emphasis, I’ll repeat again that only common, pure cane sugar is safe for hummingbirds. There are no safe substitutes. Do not use organic, raw or brown sugar. Confectioner’s sugar, which contains an anti-caking substance (often corn starch, silicates or stearate salts), is also hazardous to hummingbirds.
The ratio of four parts water to one part sugar utilizing pure cane sugar most closely duplicates the nectar that hummingbirds obtain from some of their favorite flowers. Why try to mess with nature’s perfection?

I cannot imagine why anyone would supplement sugar water for hummingbirds with such human beverages as a sports drink or Kool-aid, but there have been reports of people doing so. Be aware that such additives will only risk the health of these tiny birds.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Despite a perceived disadvantage of size, ruby-throated hummingbirds are quite capable of thriving in a giant world.

Most experts also suggest avoiding red dyes or food colorings, which are often found in commercially marketed hummingbird sugar water. Don’t risk the health of hummingbirds for a little convenience.

It’s easy to make your own sugar water mix, which can be stored in the refrigerator in an empty plastic juice jug. Boil some water and then add one cup of sugar for every four cups of water in your pot. Stir thoroughly. Bottle the mixture until it cools. Fill your feeders and store any remaining sugar water in the fridge in the aforementioned jug. Refrigerated, the mix should stay good to use for at least a week.

In our milder spring weather, changing the sugar water in feeders can probably be done on a weekly basis. When hotter summer temperatures prevail, it’s usually necessary to change the sugar water every two or three days.

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Remember to send me those first sightings of returning spring hummingbirds. I’ll be doing my usual roundup to share who gets graced with a visit from one of these tiny beauties.

Man hits a bonanza with recent sighting of eagles

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Photo Courtesy of Jim Kroll • These four bald eagles were observed along Mendota Road near Abingdon, Virginia.

Jim Kroll sent me a recent email about a Jan. 30 sighting he made on Mendota Road in Abingdon, Virginia.

“I saw three hawks and an eagle close together in the same tree,” he wrote in his email. “The eagle and one hawk appear to be almost side-by-side on the same limb.”

He added that he had never observed such a combination in the same tree.

“I did not know they got along that well with each other,” Jim wrote.

He noted that he regularly sees hawks near his home in Abingdon and occasionally sees eagles on Mendota Road.

“There was a second eagle,” he added. “The two eagles would fly off together to the river, swooping around each other along the way.”

He said that he watched the hawks and eagles for probably 30 to 45 minutes as they would fly away from the tree multiple times and then return.

He also reported that the hawks were larger than the eagles. This bit of information got me to thinking about his sighting due to the fact that there are no hawks bigger than a bald eagle.

Once I looked at the photo that Jim shared with his email, I realized that his sighting was more remarkable than he realized.

“All four of the birds are eagles,” I wrote to him after viewing the photo. “The dark ones are immature eagles.”

“All four of the birds are eagles,” I wrote to him after viewing the photo. “The dark ones are immature eagles.”

According to information from the East Tennessee State University Eagle Cam project, it typically requires four to five years before young eagles develop the characteristic yellow bill with white head and tail of an adult bird.

Remember that Jim saw a second adult eagle that does not appear in the photograph he shared.

I’m not sure what was taking place with this appearance by multiple eagles. I’m favoring the possibility that the young dark eagles might have been the young of the adult pair of birds. Female eagles are larger than male eagles, so it is also likely the adult bird in the photo is a male and the other eagles in your photo are all females.
The fact that Jim saw five eagles at a single location at the same time is worth commending.

I informed him that I feel lucky when I see one eagle or a pair. I told Jim that to see five eagles at one spot is exceptional and congratulated him.
After I shared my opinion that all the birds in his photo were eagles, he emailed me again.

“We were probably a football field length away from the tree the eagles were in and just jumped to the conclusion that the darker birds were hawks,” he wrote to me.
He had considered how large the birds looked in flight, and he noted that their size and wingspan had not seem right for hawks, but he said he never thought about the other three birds also being eagles. He also shared another photo of the adult eagles flying toward the river.

“Their wingspan was impressive,” he wrote. “It was cool watching them swoop around each other near the river.”

He also shared that he saw another eagle recently near the Nordyke Bridge, five to six miles from where he saw the group of eagles.

Jim added that he has seen eagles at the top of South Holston Dam and along the Virginia Creeper Trail near Alvarado.

The ETSU Eagle Cam project operates eagle cams in Johnson City near Winged Deer Park and in Bluff City.

https://www.etsu.edu/cas/biology/eagle-cam/cameras.php

Here’s some more information about bald eagles from the ETSU Eagle Cam website.
Haliaeetus leucocephalus, better known as the bald eagle, is the United States’ national bird and is an easily recognizable species even to the casual observer. No other bird has a bright white head and tail with a massive yellow bill.
Bald Eagles belong to the family Accipitridae, which also includes hawks, kites, harriers and Old World vultures.

The scientific name roughly translates to “white-headed sea eagle,” which is appropriate because these birds are almost always found nesting near water.

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To share a sighting, ask a question or make a comment, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com Bald eagles are often associated with wetland habitats.

Couple shares story about nesting mourning doves

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Contributed Photo by Tim Barto • One of the mourning doves nesting atop a porch column at the home of Star and Tim Barton in Telford arrives with a sprig of nesting material held in its beak. Tim’s photo of the dove even impressed the editors at “Smoky Mountain Living.” The magazine published the photo earlier this year.

Star Barto, a resident of Telford in Washington County, contacted me after reading my column on the Eastern phoebes nesting on my  front porch. Incidentally, the phoebes have now successfully fledged their young.

Star began her email by sharing that she and her husband, Tim, have been blessed with mourning doves building their nests on the top of one of their porch columns.  

“This is our fifth year with a ring side seat,” Star wrote. “They usually have two nestings per season that produce two babies each time.”

This year, the birds changed things up and the Bartos are celebrating  a third nest — atop the same porch column.  

“We call it our special version of an Airbnb,” she noted.

At first, the doves would fly each time Star or Tim opened the front door, but the birds gradually grew accustomed to their human landlords.  

Star wrote that their nest is in such a ideal location — safe, dry, under cover, high up — that the doves return year after year and do not doubt the safety of their habitat.  

“We turn off the porch light, of course, and work hard at minimizing disruption,” she wrote.  

“And they thrive,” Star added. “It is beyond thrilling to be able to see so up close and personal the magic of Mother Nature.”

The mourning dove is a common backyard bird across the country. It’s also considered a game bird.

According to the website, All About Birds, the mourning dove is the most widespread and abundant game bird in North America. According to the website, hunters harvest more than 20 million of these birds every year, but the mourning dove remains one of the most abundant birds with a U.S. population estimated at 350 million. The mourning dove also ranges into Canada and Mexico. 

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A mourning dove stretches a wing while perched on a feeder.

The mourning dove gets its name from its mournful cooing, which has been likened to a lament. Birds are more vocal during the nesting season. 

Former common names for this dove include Carolina pigeon, rain dove and turtle dove. The mourning dove is a member of the dove family, Columbidae, which includes 344 different species worldwide.

From the standpoint of a scientist, there’s no real difference between doves and pigeons. In general, smaller members of the family are known as doves and the larger ones are classified as pigeons, but that’s not a firm rule.

Some of the more descriptively named doves and pigeons include blue-eyed ground dove, purplish-backed quail dove, ochre-bellied dove, red-billed pigeon, emerald-spotted wood dove, pink-necked green pigeon, sombre pigeon, topknot pigeon, white-bellied imperial pigeon, cinnamon ground dove, pheasant pigeon, crested cuckoo-dove and crowned pigeon.

An early illustration of the dodo.

Arguably the most famous dove is the extinct dodo, a bird renowned as being  almost too stupid to live. The dodo almost certainly doesn’t deserve its reputation as a “bird brain.” The reason for the bird’s swift extinction after encountering humans can be explained by the fact that this large, flightless dove evolved on the island of Mauritius in the Indian Ocean. Largely defenseless, the dodo’s fate was sealed from the moment this bird was confronted with new arrivals — humans and affiliated animals such as rats, pigs and cats — at its home.  The results of these first encounters were catastrophic for the species.

The first mention of the three-foot-tall dodo in the historic record occurred in 1598 when Dutch sailors reached Mauritius. By 1662, the bird vanishes from the historic record. The bird disappeared so swiftly that for some time after it was often considered a mythical creature.

Other native doves in the United States include common ground-dove, Inca dove, white-winged dove and Key West quail-dove. The Eurasian collared-dove is an introduced species that has spread rapidly across the country and occurs in Northeast Tennessee. 

Doves are unusual among birds in feeding young a type of milk. Known as “crop milk,” both parents feed young in the nest with this substance produced in the crop, which is simply an enlargement of the bird’s esophagus. The crop is usually used for storage of surplus food, which is usually seeds. 

Young doves are known as squabs, and the crop milk they are fed early in life is rich in antioxidants, fats and proteins, allowing them to thrive and grow quickly. 

To share a sighting, make a comment or ask a question, please email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.