Category Archives: Bryan Stevens

Egrets, snow geese sightings enliven winter birding

Photo by Dewey Fuller • A great egret stands amid a flock of Canada geese at Middlebrook Lake in Bristol, Tennessee.

It’s 2020, but I feel like I am still playing catchup with the birds found in the last few weeks of 2019. We might not have had much snow so far this winter, but birds with white plumage have stirred up some excitement in recent weeks. The birds are finally showing some winter movement as they turn up in some unlikely places and at unseasonable times. While I have felt that the winter’s off to a slow start in regards to birds, some other unusual visitors have popped up in various locations in the region.

Dewey Fuller, who resides near Middlebrook Lake in Bristol, Tennessee, emailed me recently to report an unexpected bird and share photos of the feathered visitor.

He correctly identified the bird as a great egret based on its white plumage and dark legs. “Another unusual visitor to Middlebrook,” Dewey wrote in his email.

The waders — herons, egrets, storks — usually reside in wetlands and coastal areas, but they are prone to wander after the nesting season. Their wandering usually takes place in late summer and early fall, so the Middlebrook visitor was a tad out of season.

While it is unusual for a great egret to visit the region in December, I know from personal experience that a twelfth month visit from this graceful wading bird is not unheard of. The first great egret to ever visit my home arrived on a snowy evening in December many years ago. This past summer heralded a more seasonal visit from only the second great egret to visit my home.

Joe McGuiness, an employee with the U.S. Forest Service who resides in Erwin, recently observed a great egret at a pond along the linear walking trail in Erwin, Tennessee. I’m not sure why these stately white birds have been present in December, but they certainly attracted attention with their unexpected presences.

Photo by StockSnap/Pixabay.com • A snow goose comes in for a landing, showing off its black flight feathers that contrast with its otherwise all-white plumage.

The egret was only one recent mostly all-white bird to put in an appearance. I found a single snow goose in a cornfield along Old Johnson City Highway about a half mile from the Lynch Farmhouse/Gallery in Unicoi, Tennessee shortly before Thanksgiving.

Snow geese are extremely abundant, but their migratory flyways usually keep these geese far from the mountains and valleys of Northeast Tennessee.

The snow goose has a second color phase known as a “blue goose” that has plumage that replaces the white feathers of the snow goose except in the head, neck and tip of the tail. The white phase of the species boasts all-white plumage except for black flight feathers. Adults have pinkish-red legs and bills. Serrations along the bill create the diagnostic “grin patch” that helps people distinguish the goose from the smaller related Ross’s goose. Male snow geese are typically somewhat larger than females.

Snow geese breed well north of the timberline in Canada, Alaska, Greenland and Siberia. In winter, they head south to spend the colder months across much of the United States and even Mexico.

Snow geese numbers have exploded in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. In fact, some experts worry that the sheer abundance of this goose is doing damage to the fragile tundra habitat these geese use for breeding. According to the website “All About Birds,” hunting for snow geese in the eastern United States was stopped in 1916 because of low population levels. Hunting was allowed again in 1975 after populations had recovered.

Although they remain a hunted game bird, an occasional snow goose achieves significant longevity in the wild. The oldest snow goose was an individual documented as being 27 years and six months old that was shot in Texas in 1999.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A snow goose swims amid Canada geese at the pond at Fishery Park in Erwin, Tennessee, in February of 2018. .

77th Elizabethton Christmas Bird Count yields 63 species

Photo by Bryan Stevens • This adult bald eagle was one of several counted on this year’s Christmas Bird Count.

The 77th consecutive Elizabethton Christmas Bird Count was held by members and friends of the Elizabethton Bird Club on Saturday, Dec. 14. Participants in the long-running CBC tallied a total of 63 species of birds, which was down considerably from the recent average of 73 species. The all-time high for this count consisted of 85 species and was established two years ago with the 2018 Elizabethton CBC.

The temperature lingered in the 40s all day with light rain. The low species total, as well as low individual numbers, was likely due to the lousy weather, according to long-time count compiler Rick Knight.

Knight noted some count highlights, including single representatives of ruffed grouse, pine warbler and red-headed woodpecker. In addition, 75 wild turkeys, 181 Eastern bluebirds, and 449 cedar waxwings demonstrated that some birds were far from scarce.

The 1,015 individuals counted made the European starling the most abundant bird on this year’s CBC, followed by cedar waxwing (449), American robin (371) and Canada goose (319).

Photo by U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service • The European Starling ranked as the most common species on the count.

Notable misses included almost all the ducks — only three species being found. Knight noted that duck numbers have been low so far this season.

Counters also missed finding killdeer, Wilson’s snipe, Eurasian collar-dove, red-breasted nuthatch, brown thrasher, Eastern meadowlark, white-crowned sparrow and fox sparrow. A single Eastern screech-owl represented the only owl species found on the count.

My own count area consisted of territory around Watauga Lake and the town of Butler. Accompanying me on this count were Brookie and Jean Potter, David and Connie Irick, Eric Middlemas, Brenda Richards and Chris Soto.

Highlights of our day counting birds in mid-December included numerous sightings of bald eagles and a welcome and restorative lunch at Dry Hill General Store and Deli in Butler. We also enjoyed our observations of a common loon, horned grebe, and several species of raptors.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Nine red-tailed hawks made it onto this year’s Elizabethton Christmas Bird Count.

Here’s the final total for the 2019 Elizabethton CBC:

Canada goose, 319; mallard, 268; ring-necked duck, 4; bufflehead, 107; ruffed grouse, 1; and wild turkey, 75.

Common loon, 1; pied-billed grebe, 4; horned grebe, 1; double-crested cormorant, 4; and great blue heron, 18.

Black vulture, 4; turkey vulture, 38; sharp-shinned hawk, 4; Cooper’s hawk, 1; bald eagle, 6; and red-tailed hawk, 9.

Ring-billed gull, 20; rock pigeon, 246; mourning dove, 200; Eastern screech-owl, 1; and belted kingfisher, 11.

Red-headed woodpecker, 1; red-bellied woodpecker, 10; yellow-bellied sapsucker, 10; downy woodpecker, 21; hairy woodpecker, 2; Northern flicker, 27; and pileated woodpecker, 7.

American kestrel, 8; Eastern phoebe, 7; blue jay, 164; American crow, 299; and common raven, 1.

Carolina chickadee, 133; Tufted titmouse, 61; white-breasted nuthatch, 29; brown creeper, 1; winter wren, 5; and Carolina wren, 94.

Golden-crowned kinglet, 15; ruby-crowned kinglet, 1; Eastern bluebird, 181; American robin, 371; Northern mockingbird, 57; European starling, 1,015; and cedar waxwing, 449.

Pine warbler, 1; yellow-rumped warbler, 61; Eastern towhee, 17; chipping sparrow, 16; field sparrow, 28; Savannah sparrow, 5; song sparrow, 125; swamp sparrow, 1; white-throated sparrow, 40; and dark-eyed junco, 45.

Northern cardinal, 124; brown-headed cowbird, 1; house finch, 72; American goldfinch, 63; and house sparrow, 29.

Photo by Jean Potter • Two species of warbler — pine warbler, pictured here, and yellow-rumped warbler — made this year’s Elizabethton CBC.

Roan Mountain CBC finds 49 species

The Elizabethton Bird Club conducts a second CBC for Roan Mountain in Carter County, Tennessee. The 67th Roan Mountain CBC was held the following day, Sunday, Dec. 15, with eight observers in two parties. The skies had cleared from the previous day. Participants counting at elevations above 4,500 feet found an inch of fresh snow.

Knight noted that a good cone crop is present in the spruce-fir forest. The count tallied 49 species, which is three above the recent 30 year average. The all-time high on this count was 55 species found in 1987. Lower species totals on this count are due to harsher climate in higher elevations, less diversity of habitats, and lower number of observers and parties.

Some highlights included 26 Canada geese. On most CBCs, Canada geese would not be considered extraordinary, but Knight noted there are few records on the Roan Mountain CBC for this goose.  Other highlights included 11 American black ducks, two red-breasted nuthatches and a single purple finch. A single American kestrel, which is also represented by only a few records on this count, was found. The counters found 27 common ravens, which meant that this corvid species outnumbered its relative the blue jay, which tallied only 21 individuals.

Knight suggested that a few notable misses for this count included sharp-shinned hawk, brown creeper and fox sparrow.

The Roan Mountain CBC total follows:

Canada goose, 26; American black duck, 11; buffledhead, 17; hooded merganser, 1; wild turkey, 2; pied-billed grebe, 2; and great blue heron, 1.

Turkey vulture, 3; Cooper’s hawk, 2; red-shouldered hawk, 2; and red-tailed hawk, 2.

Rock pigeon, 14; mourning dove, 34; belted kingfisher, 1; red-bellied woodpecker, 4; yellow-bellied sapsucker, 3; downy woodpecker, 14; hairy woodpecker, 1; and pileated woodpecker, 2.

American kestrel, 1; Eastern phoebe, 4; blue jay, 21; American crow, 96; and common raven, 27.

Carolina chickadee, 46; tufted titmouse, 31; red-breasted nuthatch, 2; white-breasted nuthatch, 12; winter wren, 1; and Carolina wren, 21.

Golden-crowned kinglet, 9; Eastern bluebird, 18; American robin, 126; Northern mockingbird, 1; European starling, 33; and cedar waxwing, 12.

Yellow-rumped warbler, 1; Eastern towhee, 17; field sparrow, 3; song sparrow, 68; white-throated sparrow, 11; and dark-eyed junco, 62.

Northern cardinal, 19; house finch, 2; purple finch, 1; red crossbill, 10; pine siskin, 1; and American goldfinch, 6.

Success of wild turkey’s resurgence leads to foul fowls in New England

Photo by Avia5/Pixabay.com • A male wild turkey, often referred to as a “tom” or a “gobbler,” fans his tail in a display meant to impress hens and intimidate other males.

Celebrated in William Bradford’s written account of the First Thanksgiving in 1621, the wild turkey had all but vanished from Massachusetts and the rest of New England a mere two centuries later. By the time of Henry David Thoreau, who is arguably America’s first environmentalist, the noted author lamented in 1856 that the turkey and other wildlife were difficult to find in his native Massachusetts.

In a journal entry from the spring of 1856, Thoreau decried the part the descendants of those Pilgrims who celebrated the first Thanksgiving more than 200 years earlier had played in the decimation.

“When I consider that the nobler animals have been exterminated here — the cougar, the panther, lynx, wolverine, wolf, bear, moose, dear, the beaver, the turkey and so forth and so forth, I cannot but feel as if I lived in a tamed and, as it were, emasculated country,” Thoreau wrote in his journal. “Is it not a maimed and imperfect nature I am conversing with?”

Henry David Thoreau

Perhaps, but Thoreau would probably be encouraged that many of the animals he mentioned in his journal have now recovered and once again roam throughout New England. The wild turkey has been in the vanguard of that resurgence. In fact, the revival of the wild turkey’s fortunes in New England has had unintended consequences. In short, this venerable fowl has run amok in some parts of its former stronghold.

An article by Brianna Abbott for the Audubon Society’s website estimates that before Europeans first colonized New England in the 1600s, as many as 10 million wild turkeys roamed from Maine to Florida to the Rocky Mountains of the American West.

Today, wild turkeys are back with a vengeance. Turkeys may have grievances, it turns out, for the persecution they suffered at the hands of Americans for the past few centuries. Touted as a major restoration success story, the wild turkey began to be reintroduced to New England about half a century ago.

Now that they’re back, turkeys are part of a dramatically changed landscape. Suburbs now stretch in wide swaths of terrain that once supported forests and associated wildlife. Luckily — for the turkey, anyway — it is a very adaptable bird. Turkeys have taken to life in the suburbs with such enthusiasm that they are now a wildlife management issue for the human residents who must share living space with them. Emboldened problem turkeys chase and intimidate women and small children, as well as pets. Whole flocks have gone rogue.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Wild turkeys forage on a hillside.

Gone are the turkey’s natural predators — lynxes, cougars and wolves — that had kept America’s premier game bird’s population in balance. As Thoreau pointed out, nature is no longer perfect. More than 170,000 wild turkeys now live in New England and they’re not always at peace with their human neighbors.

Thoreau didn’t have the benefit of environmental science to back him up, but he would probably not be surprised that a “maimed” nature is causing some unexpected problems even as some of the animals he so sorely missed are returning to their former haunts.

The Tennessee Watchable Wildlife Website notes that the wild turkey was once nearly eliminated from the Volunteer State. By the early 1900s, over-hunting eliminated this species from most of its range, including much of Tennessee. Modern wildlife management has reestablished this bird throughout its historic range and into 49 of the 50 United States.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Wild turkeys have re-established themselves in many areas across the United States, including New England.

According to the website, the natural habitat for the wild turkey consists of mature woodlands with scattered openings or fields. In such areas, turkeys can forage for food such as acorns and other wild nuts, seeds, fruits, insects, buds, fern fronds and even the occasional salamander.

Wild turkeys roam the woods around my home, and I know of other areas that are dependable locations for observing these birds. While their numbers are increasing, the wild turkey has not yet turned the tables. For the foreseeable future, I suspect Americans will continue to dine on turkey every Thanksgiving, and not the other way around.

Who could blame them, however, if turkeys were to feel perfectly justified in biting back at the American public? We’ve not always been the best stewards for our native wildlife. Call me an optimist. I believe turkeys and people can co-exist. As residents in New England have learned, we just have to be prepared for some give and take.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A male gobbler seeks the attention of hens, as all these Wild Turkeys add to the number of this species found during the count.

Winter’s dark-eyed junco provided inspiration for first column

Photo by Skeeze/Pixabay.com • The dark-eyed junco is a fairly common winter resident in the region. Rather widespread, different races of the dark-eyed junco are found throughout the North American continent.

I wrote my first bird column on Sunday, Nov. 5, 1995, which means this weekly column will mark its 24th anniversary this week. This column has appeared over the last 20 years 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. “For the Birds” has appeared in the Bristol Herald Courier since June of 2014.

Photo by Bryan Stevens •  Dark-eyed Juncos often delay their winter arrivals to the first snows of the season.

I’ve played detective, helping people identify everything from “rain crows,” or cuckoos, to Muscovy ducks and double-crested cormorants. I’ve observed unusual birds, including white pelican, brant and roseate spoonbill, in Northeast Tennessee and Southwest Virginia and spotlighted them in these columns. 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. I also offers to sunflower seed and other supplemental food for the resident birds like Carolina chickadees and white-breasted nuthatches.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Known as “snowbirds,” Dark-eyed Juncos are hardy birds even in the winter season.

My first 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.

•••••

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 in southwest Virginia such as Whitetop Mountain or Mount Rogers is almost sure to produce sightings of dark-eyed juncos. Juncos may nest as many 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.

Photo by Ken Thomas •  Dark-eyed Juncos are also known as “snow birds” because of their tendency to flock to feeders ahead of a bout of snowy weather.

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.

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!

•••••

If you’d like to share your first sighting of dark-eyed juncos as the temperatures get colder, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Although more comfortable on the ground, juncos will come to hanging feeders for sunflower seed.

Mysterious owl retains a low profile even during Halloween season

Photo by jeanvdmeulen/Pixabay.com • The barn owl’s heart-shaped face helps this bird, which is also known by such names as death owl, ghost owl, and hobgoblin owl, stand out from the other owls that share the domain of night.

With common names such as cave owl, death owl, ghost owl, night owl and hobgoblin owl, the nocturnal hunter more widely known as the barn owl provides a fitting focus for exploration as the calendar counts down toward Halloween.

Barn owls lurk in the shadows of night, but most people would never know it unless they happen to hear some of the spine-tingling vocalizations produced by this poorly known predatory bird. Shiver-inducing shrieks and screams quite capable of piercing the veil of darkness are often produced by the barn owl. This owl doesn’t utter loud hoots like the great horned owl. Instead, the call of the barn owl is not likely one to be soon forgotten because of its raspy, nails-on-the-chalkboard nature. A hearer could easily be misled into misinterpreting the shrill vocalizations as originating from something far more ghoulish.

According to the website for the Owl Research Institute in Charlo, Montana, barn owls are the most widely distributed owl in the world, and they may be one of the most common, as well. In Montana, where ORI is located, barn owls observations are rather sparse. ORI has documented 12 barn owl nests and made numerous observations in the last 12 years, according to its website. Likewise, the barn owl is not too often observed in Northeast Tennessee and Southwest Virginia.

Photo by dannymoore1973/Pixabay.com A barn owl’s wings and feathers provide almost silent flight for this efficient predatory bird.

The barn owl is often associated with rural, agricultural areas, which is one reason they can often be found in old barns, sheds and farm silos. However, the first barn owl I ever saw in the wild was living beneath the eaves of a building on the campus of Mountain Home Veterans Administration in Johnson City, Tennessee, within walking distance of commercial buildings and the campus of East Tennessee State University.

The barn owl has no close relatives among the other owls found in the region. The barn owl is in its own unique family known as Tytonidae. The family name comes from a Greek word, Tuto, which translates as “night owl.”

Photo by Bryan Stevens • An Eastern Screech Owl, pictured, is considered a member of the family called Strigidae, which consists of the owls described as “typical owls” by experts.

Other owls in our region — great horned owl, barred owl, Eastern screech-owl, short-eared owl— belong to a family called Strigidae, which are often described as “typical owls” by ornithologists and other experts.

The barn owl is one of nature’s most perfect predators. Among animals tested by scientists, the barn owl shows an almost uncanny ability to detect prey animals by sound alone. Prey, which is often small voles or other rodents, often doesn’t know of the danger until it’s too late. The structure of the barn owl’s wings and feathers is such that these predatory birds can fly through the darkness in almost perfect silence.

Early American painter John James Audubon captured this dynamic scene of barn owls with a capture chipmunk.

There’s a heavy cost that the owl must pay for these special adaptations. According to the Barn Owl Trust, an organization founded in 1988 in the United Kingdom to conserve one of the most beautiful birds on Earth, a barn owl’s specially adapted feathers are not particularly waterproof. In addition, barn owls are unable to store a lot of body fat. The Trust’s website notes that barn owls are unable to hunt in heavy rain and are particularly prone to starvation during prolonged periods of severe weather and/or prey shortage.

Much myth and legend have arisen around the world’s owls, including the barn owl. A native tribe in California known as the Newuks believed that warriors who proved courageous and virtuous became great horned owls after death. Men who practiced wicked ways, however, were thought to become barn owls.

This owl with the white heart-shaped face has long spooked humans. The bird’s head and upper body typically vary between pale brown and various shade of gray. Especially in flight, the barn owl can look rather pale.

The barn owl is the most widespread terrestrial bird species in the world, occurring on every continent except Antarctica. In addition to its various spooky common names, barn owls are also known by such descriptive monikers as monkey-faced owl, silver owl and golden owl. Some other common names include church owl and steeple owl. This owl acquired this name for its habit of utilizing steeples or bell towers in churches as roosting locations when barns or caves were lacking.

For a bird so closely associated with people and their dwellings and related structures, the barn owl remains an enigma to many. YouTube offers a variety of videos that showcase the creepy vocalizations of barn owls. Familiarize yourself with their calls, and you’ll be more likely to distinguish a barn owl calling after dark from the more sinister specters on the prowl this Halloween.

To learn more about barn owls or to make a contribution toward their conservation, visit www.barnowltrust.org.uk

Photo by mochawalk/Pixabay.com • A barn owl gives a penetrating stare to the camera.

Think of the vireos as ‘Plain Janes’ of songbirds

Photo by FotoRequest/Adobe Stock • A red-eyed vireo grasps a tree branch, a common pose for this bird that spends time concealed in the woodland canopy. The red eye can be difficult to detect unless lighting conditions are optimal for observers.

The start of migration appears to be more of a crawl than a sprint this fall, but I have picked up a few signs. For instance, I’ve been hearing the scolding sounds of red-eyed vireos from woodland edges for the past few weeks. A dedicated singer at most times, this vireo seems more likely to produce a harsh, scolding cry at this time of the year. Other hints of the steady advance of fall migration include flocks of common nighthawks and chimney swifts congregating in the skies over my home and the unmistakable croaking of common ravens from nearby ridges.

So far, I’ve seen only a few warblers, including black-throated blue warbler and hooded warbler. At a glance, vireos would appear related to the wood warblers. Research into DNA, however, has led many experts to contend that vireos are more closely related to crows and shrikes. Like the flycatcher and hummingbird families, the vireo family is exclusive to the New World. With a mere 50 species, vireos and their kin are vastly outnumbered by flycatchers and hummingbirds. The majority of vireos resides in the tropics, but about a dozen species nest in the United States.

In East Tennessee Southwest Virginia and Western North Carolina, vireos resident during the summer months include red-eyed vireo, white-eyed vireo, blue-headed vireo, yellow-throated vireo and warbling vireo. Most people are likely unaware of vireos. Although not uncommon, these birds are more frequently heard than seen. They spend much of their time in the forest canopy or in dense brush. When singing, they can remain at a perch, unmoving, for long periods of time.

Photo by Jean Potter • A red-eyed vireo sits on its carefully woven nest among a canopy of leaves.

The loud scolding calls of red-eyed vireos often heard this time of year are given apparently when the vireo is alarmed or irritated. This scolding vocalization is quite unlike the usual ones produced by this bird. First and foremost, the call is louder than one would think could be produced by a bird that is only about six inches long. During the summer season, the red-eyed vireo is also one of the most persistent of singing songbirds. Another common name for the red-eyed vireo is “preacher bird,” so called because of its tendency to unceasingly deliver its song.
The red-eyed vireo is still considered one of eastern North America’s most common summer breeding birds. At one time, the red-eyed vireo was probably the most common breeding bird in eastern woodlands. That, sadly, is no longer the case. Red-eyed vireos are olive-green above and clean white below. These birds show a distinctive head pattern consisting of a gray crown and white eyebrow stripe bordered above and below by black lines. Adults also have the red eyes that give this particular vireo its common name. The term “vireo,” originating in Latin, can be translated into English as “green bird.” It’s an apt description, as many of these small birds are primarily dull green in coloration. Consider the vireos the “Plain Janes” of songbirds.

Photo by Jean Potter • A red-eyed vireo fledgling calls for a food delivery, which will arrive in the beak of one of the young bird’s parents.

A red-eyed vireo painted by John James Audubon.

Other vireos that can be found in the United States, for at least part of the year, include Philadelphia vireo, plumbeous vireo and Cassin’s vireo. A specialty of Florida is the black-whiskered vireo, while the black-capped vireo is an endangered species found in Texas. Two others, Bell’s vireo and gray vireo, are identified as species of concern on the Audubon Watchlist.

Many species of vireo are also found in the islands of the Caribbean, including Jamaican vireo, Cuban vireo and Puerto Rican Vireo. The thick-billed vireo can be found in the Bahamas, which were recently pulverized by Hurricane Dorian. The thick-billed vireo is very similar to the white-eyed vireo, which is a summer resident in our region.

My only birding outside of the United States took place in the Bahamas 20 years ago. My highlights included two hummingbirds — Bahama woodstar and Cuban emerald — as well as bananaquits, black-faced grassquit, Western spindalis, Cuban pewee and other interesting species. I didn’t see a thick-billed vireo, but I did get my first-ever look at a Cape May warbler. I was visiting the Bahamas in January of 1999, which proved a fortunate time since many warblers migrate to these islands for the cold months. I’m hopeful that both people and birds on the islands Abaco and Grand Bahama and smaller islands most affected by the monster storm are able to recover soon.

Some of the more colorful common names for vireos include the dwarf vireo, golden vireo and yellow-winged vireo.  In Central and South America, the vireo family expands to include many birds with common names such as shrike-vireo, greenlet and peppershrike. Some of the varied species include lemon-chested greenlet, green shrike-vireo and the black-bellied peppershrike.

I still focus most of my birding efforts on warblers in the autumn, but vireos are always a pleasant diversion when the colorful warblers make themselves scarce.

Photo by Jean Potter • The blue-headed vireo prefers wooded habitats at higher elevations.

Hooded warbler and its kin bring tropical splash to area woodlands

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

I came away from a recent program on bird migration given by Kenn and Kimberly Kaufman learning a few new nuggets of information about warblers, which are one of my favorite bird families. The Kaufmans, well-known birders and activists on the behalf of birds, spoke Saturday, Aug. 31, on the topic of bird migration during the evening program at the Roan Mountain Fall Naturalists Rally. They confirmed some things I have always suspected to be true about fall migration in the region. For instance, warbler migration in the Southern Appalachians is indeed often more productive in the fall than in the spring. The Kaufmans also noted that fall migration takes place at a more leisurely pace for most of the migrating warblers. They even pointed out that some of the warblers, such as magnolia warbler and Tennessee warbler, which are uncommon fall migrants at their home in Ohio, are actually quite common in East Tennessee.

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.

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.

Photo by Bryan Stevens  • Only males show the well-formed black hood and bib that gives the hooded warbler its common name.

I know that every migrant passing through my yard at this time of year is making its way southward, and it will likely be another five to six months before I again see any of my favorite songbirds. The hooded warbler will make itself at home in the forests of Mexico, as well as in Belize, Costa Rica and other Central American nations, throughout the winter season. Most hooded warblers begin returning to their winter haunts as early as mid-September, but lingering individuals continue to entertain birders in the United States throughout October.

Like many of the ruby-throated hummingbirds that make their home in the United States for the summer, the hooded warbler’s fall migration takes it across the vast open waters of the Gulf of Mexico, crossing to the Yucatan and then dispersing from there to various points in Central America. 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 their presentation, the Kaufmans explained that these tiny birds put on incredible fat reserves to help fuel their efforts.

The warblers, also known as wood-warblers, are an exclusively New World family of birds, numbering approximately 116 species. About 50 of these species of warblers 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 of them are extremely bright and colorful birds. The hooded warbler would have to be included among the more brightly colored warblers.

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.

While some of the neotropical migrants that venture into North America boast even brighter kin in the tropics, we need not feel cheated with the warblers that make their home in the United States for half of the year. Some of their relatives are beautiful birds, including the white-faced whitestart, golden-bellied warbler, three-striped warbler and rose-breasted chat, but few can really hold a candle to their relatives that venture north and brighten our lives.

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’ll miss the warblers once fall migration has run its course. For those months they are here, the warblers belong to us. They seem like “our” birds. They’re only on loan, though. Our winter birds will offer some compensation in their absence, but I’ll be impatiently awaiting that flash of gold from the recesses of a rhododendron thicket next April.

Photo by U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service • A female hooded warbler sits tightly on her eggs in the cup-shaped nest she has build within the concealing branches of a shrub.