Tag Archives: Autumn

These migratory birds are true champions

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ANNE AND SATURNINO MIRANDA/PIXABAY • The common crane holds a record achieved by the feat of flying over the Himalayans at a height of 37,000 feet. However, this is not a typical flight. They usually fly below 3,280 feet.

As it does every year, September’s arrival puts fall migration into sharp focus. The birds that returned this past spring — the warblers, vireos, tanagers, grosbeaks, flycatchers, hawks, hummingbirds and many more — have begun or are beginning to make their way back to the locations where they will spend the winter months far from the cold, bleak conditions over most of North America.

On recent mornings as I leave for work I have heard the buzz of hummingbird wings, as well as the scolding calls of red-eyed vireos from the woodlands around my home.

Some of these birds migrate out of the tropics every spring to avoid competition. Others find North America a land of abundant, albeit temporary, resources. This land of plenty offers a wealth of insects, seeds, fruit and other nourishing, nutritious food to help parent birds keep their strength while they work to ensure their young thrive. Of course, once the bountiful period concludes, they return to the tropics of Central and South America to winter. Those that do so successfully will make the journey back to the United States and Canada in the spring. It’s an ongoing cycle, repeating year after year, season after season.

The phenomenon of migration isn’t exclusive to the neotropical migrants of the New World. Birds in other parts of the world migrate, too. Waterfowl, shorebirds and raptors are among some of the families of birds that stage impressive migrations.

Here are some migration achievements of some of our feathered friends:

Elevation Champ
The Himalayas represent a mountainous challenge for many migratory birds. Some birds, however, shrug off the astonishing heights of the world’s tallest mountains. The common crane holds a record achieved by the feat of flying over the Himalayans at a height of 37,000 feet. However, this is not a typical flight for these cranes. In fact, they usually avoid flying over mountains. They usually fly below 3,280 feet. The regular migrant that does fly at loft heights is the bar-headed goose, recording reaching 29,000 feet. These geese regularly fly over the peaks of the Himalayas when migrating.

Long-distance Champ
The Arctic tern truly takes migration to extremes. This small seabird travels each year from its Arctic nesting grounds to the Antarctic region, where it spends the winter months. Put into terms of mileage, the Arctic tern can travel about 50,000 miles in a single year. For a bird with a body length of about 15 inches and a wingspan of about 28 inches, this incredible migration is an astonishing feat. These statistics permit the Arctic tern to easily lay claim to the title of champion migrant among our feathered friends.

Tiny Champ
The ruby-throated hummingbird, a favorite of many bird enthusiasts living in the eastern United States, makes an impressive migration each year. Just to reach the United States, these tiny birds undertake a strenuous journey. They leave their wintering grounds in Central America to return to the United States and Canada for the nesting season. Most of these tiny birds, which are barely four inches long, make a non-stop flight of more than 500 miles across the Gulf of Mexico. The journey can take almost an entire day. With the end of summer, the entire population of ruby-throated hummingbirds, increased by a new generation of young birds, makes the Gulf crossing for a second time in a year to return to the American tropics for the winter months.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A ruby-throated hummingbird perches at a feeder for a sip of sugar water.

Dedicated Champ
Among North America’s buteo hawks, which includes raptors such as red-shouldered hawk and red-tailed hawk, the broad-winged hawk stands out as a dedicated migrant. These hawks form flocks that at times number in the hundreds or thousands as they sail and glide on thermals rising over various mountain ranges. These hawks and other raptors are well-known in the region for migrating past the Mendota Fire Tower in Southwest Virginia every September and early October. The broad-winged hawk’s counterpart in the western United States is Swainson’s hawk, which shares the broad-winged hawk’s inclination for migrating in large flocks. Swainson’s hawk is named for William Swainson, the famous 19th century English naturalist for which Swainson’s thrush is also named.

Warbler Champs
My favorite family of birds, the warblers, are seasonal migrants. The Northern parula, a warbler species that regular spends the spring and summer months in the woods around my home, winters in Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean and southern Florida. The Northern parula breeds across the eastern half of the United States and southeastern Canada. It’s not a migration of an incredible distance, but it’s still quite an accomplishment for a bird less than five inches long and weighing less than half an ounce.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The Northern parula, like most warblers, is a medium- to long-distance migrant.

Another warbler is a true migratory champion. Few warblers make as great a journey as the blackpoll warbler. Instead of migrating over land, this five-inch-long warbler undertakes a two-stage migration. The first half of the migration is a non-stop flight of about 1,500 miles. Every fall, these tiny birds fly over the Atlantic Ocean during this part of their migration, departing from Canada or the northern United States and not stopping until they reach various locations in the Caribbean. There they will spend some time recovering from the exhausting first half of their journey before they continue their way to such South American countries as Colombia and Venezuela. Once again, during the time they spend flying over open ocean, these tiny warblers do not feed.

Fall’s a great time to witness the variety of avian life. Look for some of these migrants passing through your yards, gardens or favorite birding spots.

For those wanting suggestions for seeking out migrating birds, the linear trail in Erwin, Rocky Fork State Park in Flag Pond and Limestone Cove Recreation Area are some good bets.

Black-throated blue warbler graces cover of club’s 2026 calendar

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The front cover of this year’s Elizabethton Bird Club calendar features a gorgeous photo of a black-throated blue warbler taken by club members David and Connie Irick.

Avoid the crowded hassle of Black Friday and get a jumpstart on your shopping list with a gift all bird lovers will enjoy for 365 days.

The Lee and Lois Herndon Chapter of Tennessee Ornithological Society, also known as the Elizabethton Bird Club, has produced its annual calendar featuring bird photographs by its members and friends of the organization.

These calendars make wonderful Christmas gifts and stocking stuffers. This year’s front cover features a gorgeous photo of a black-throated blue warbler taken by club members David and Connie Irick.

The couple recently presented a program for the local bird club that focused heavily on the warblers they saw and photographed during a visit to Magee Marsh, a 2,000-acre wildlife area located in Oak Harbor, Ohio, situated on the southern shore of Lake Erie.

During the program, David Irick admitted that before he began to pursue birding as an interest, he wasn’t even aware of the existence of warblers. Now, he and his wife are hooked on this enchanting family of colorful and energetic songbirds.

The black-throated blue warbler gracing the calendar’s cover was photographed on Holston Mountain. Male black-throated blue warblers nesting in the Appalachian Mountains have black streaks on their backs, not solid blue like other populations, according to a profile on the species located at the website for Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency.

Photo by U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service/Mark Musselman
Black-throated Blue Warblers are among the birds than can often be found at Hampton Creek Cove during a Spring Rally.

Female black-throated blue warblers are extremely different in appearance from males. Scientists call such dramatic physical appearance differences “sexual dimorphism.” Among the warblers, this species provides the most striking example of sexual dimorphism. The male and female do share one identifying mark — a white square near the outer edge of the middle of each wing. This square is usually more pronounced in the male, but it stands out enough that it helps distinguish the female black-throated blue from similar dull-plumaged birds such as vireos.

The radical differences in appearance of male and female black-throated blues even fooled some experts, according to the TWRA profile on the species.

The “Father of American Ornithology,” Alexander Wilson (1766-1813), first described the female black-throated blue warbler, he thought it was a separate species and named it the pine swamp warbler. Several years later, when artist John James Audubon painted this bird from specimens he collected in the Great Pine Swamp of Pennsylvania, he called the species by the same name.

Learn more about warblers and other birds with a purchase of the club’s 2026 calendar. More photographs by the Iricks, as well as other members and friends of the club, grace the inside pages of the calendar. The month of July features an amazing photo of a bald eagle and November is graced by wild turkeys.

The inside pages of the professionally-produced calendar feature dozens more full-color photographs and an informative and educational grid. These calendars sell for $15 plus $2.50 for shipping. All sales help the club fund birding programs, public park feeders, conservation efforts and other bird- and nature-related activities in upper Northeast Tennessee.

For more information on how to obtain a calendar, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Dark-eyed juncos deserving of affectionate ‘snowbirds’ nickname

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Photo by Bryan Stevens Dark-eyed juncos are winter residents in the region.

As I mentioned in last week’s column, I published my first “Feathered Friends” on Sunday, Nov. 5, 1995.

In celebration of that milestone, here’s that first column with a few revisions that have been added over the years.

•••

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.

The cover of the classic “A Complete Guide to Bird Feeding” by John V. Dennis.

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.

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.

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.

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

Dark-eyed juncos, widespread across North America, readily visit feeder but are often content to glean the scraps other birds knock to the ground. 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.

The endangered Guadalupe junco is confined to an island. Recent efforts to eliminate feral goats and cats from the island have shown some positive results for this species.

Baird’s junco is named for Spencer Fullerton Baird, an American ornithologist and naturalist. 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 value of juncos comes from their frequent visits to our backyard feeders. When these birds flock to a feeder and begin a frenzied bout of feeding, 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 have observed some other late-autumn migrants, including ruby-crowned kinglets and a swamp sparrow.

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 30 years. I can also be reached on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler.

Photo by Bryan Stevens Dark-eyed juncos embrace feeders when weather takes a turn for the worse.

Celebrating 30 years of birds, birding and birders

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Photo by Bryan Stevens A burrowing owl perches on a sign at Antelope Island State Park in Utah in May 2006.

For the past 29 years, I’ve published my first bird column as close to the anniversary date of its initial publication as possible.

I’m not doing that this year. Instead, in a celebration of writing “Feathered Friends” on a weekly basis for the past 30 years, I am devoting this week’s column to personal reflection.

Has it truly been 30 years? It’s the question I’ve asked myself as the date on the calendar approached, marking 30 years since I began writing my weekly “Feathered Friends” column. The column made its debut in the Elizabethton Star’s Sunday lifestyles section, but since that debut on Nov. 5, 1995, the column has appeared in most of the newspapers in the region, plus a couple in North Carolina.

The column ran from 1999 to 2003 in the Herald & Tribune in Jonesborough and began running in The Erwin Record in 2003. It has mostly run each week in Unicoi County’s weekly newspaper since that time. The column began another run in the Elizabethton Star from 2008 to 2014, followed by a run in the Bristol Herald Courier, as well as in Six Rivers Media publications such as The Tomahawk in Mountain City, as well as Johnson City Press and Kingsport Times.

The column went online via WordPress in 2014 and is still posted weekly on Sundays at ourfinefeatheredfriends.com. I’m still staggered by the fact I’ve been writing this column on a weekly basis for 30 years. Readers have followed my accomplishments in birding, including detailed columns every time I’ve added a new species to my life list.

Photo by Bryan Stevens A long-billed curlew calls in a grassland at Utah’s Antelope Island State Park in May 2006.

Those special columns have included birds such as burrowing owl, long-billed curlew, roseate spoonbill, black-necked stilt, Nelson’s sparrow, black rail, swallow-tailed kite, Mississippi kite, grey-cheeked thrush, limpkin, least bittern, American bittern, painted bunting, lazuli bunting, golden eagle, American dipper, Townsend’s solitaire, mourning warbler, clay-colored sparrow, black-headed grosbeak, Western tanager, Northern saw-whet owl, bananaquit and many other memorable species. Just this past summer I added scissor-tailed flycatcher when I observed a female of this species nesting in Jonesborough.

I’ve added several hummingbirds to my list over the years, including Cuban emerald and Bahama woodstar from a trip to the Bahamas in 2000, and black-chinned hummingbird and broad-winged hummingbird from a trip to Utah. I saw a far out-of-range green-breasted mango in Charlotte, North Carolina, and traveled to Nashville to see a Calliope hummingbird, which is also the smallest of North American birds. In Northeast Tennessee, I’ve seen numerous rufous hummingbirds and a couple of Allen’s hummingbirds, both of which are western species with a perplexing habit of migration through the region and showing up in unlikely locations.

Photo by Bryan Stevens A mountain bluebird at Sweetwater Trailer Park and Campground at Garden City, Utah, on the shores of Bear Lake. Despite the sign, this location was certainly no “dead end” when it came to birding.

Even more than the birds, however, are the people I’ve met through this weekly column. I’ve been able to share stories about birding with people like Howard Langridge, Reece Jamerson, Gilbert Derouen and Wallace Coffey. They’re all gone now, but I have my memories of our time together looking for and finding some memorable birds.

I’ve met people like Brookie and Jean Potter, Tess Cumbie, Gary Wallace, Barbara Lake, Rick Knight, Joe McGuinness, Charles Moore, Fred Alsop, Allan Trently, Brenda Richards, Chris Soto, Rob Biller and Brayden Paulk. I’ve left out names because in all honesty there are too many to list. I’ve shared stories about Tom and Cathy McNeil, a couple who have chased rare birds such as buff-breasted sandpiper, snowy owl and hurricane-displaced American flamingos.

I’ve had adventures. I got stuck in mud at Musick’s Campground with Howard Langridge at Holston Lake as Hurricane Frances passed through the region in 2004, but we got a sooty tern!

Photo by Bryan Stevens A least bittern slips through marsh vegetation at Huntington Beach State Park in South Carolina.

While birding with Reece Jamerson at Austin Springs on Boone Lake, an American bittern walked up to us from a flooded ditch, absolutely fearless, and got so close we didn’t even need binoculars. Of course, we also hadn’t brought cameras.

I stood in freezing conditions for hours with dozens of birders in 2009 Springfield, Tennessee, scanning a field littered with plastic and other debris hoping for a glimpse of a reported snowy owl. Just as everyone was ready to give up hope, the owl, present all along, transformed from a white plastic bag into a fully feathered owl. It even made a short flight as if to reward everyone for their patience.

Visiting Antelope Island State Park in the middle of the Great Salt Lake in May 2006 with David Thometz and his parents, we saw many birds, the highlight being a long-billed curlew. We were driving on a road bordering a huge expanse of grassland facing the Great Salt Lake. I remarked that this looked like great habitat — I had done my homework in advance – for long-billed curlews. The words had barely left my mouth when we heard some whistled notes and saw my first-ever (and, to date, only) long-billed curlew. Even better, I managed to get a photo of the bird. We also saw thousands of horned grebes, as well as a photogenic burrowing owl, Western meadowlarks, chukars, lark sparrows and many other interesting species. Later during that same trip while traveling through Logan Canyon near Salt Lake City, I was mesmerized by an American dipper and then some Townsend’s solitaires that crowded into the scene.

Photo by Bryan Stevens A painted bunting visits feeders at Huntington Beach State Park.

On a November visit to Boone Dam with Wallace Coffey, we scanned a flock of gulls on a sandbar. When these white birds suddenly dispersed, one larger white bird that stayed behind became my first-ever sighting of a snow goose. I think Wallace’s excitement that I had gotten a life bird was even greater than my own.

Of course, my birding memories go farther back than these 30 years I’ve been writing this column. I remember the yellow birds (American goldfinches), the red birds (Northern cardinals) and blue birds (Indigo buntings) that visited each summer of my childhood. I can still hear the nocturnal serenades of whip-poor-wills that called from the woodlands while I saw on the front porch with my paternal grandparents at their home. The headlights of passing vehicles would silence them momentarily, but then one would begin calling again, and soon others rejoined the chorus. When lighting bugs added their visuals to the audio, we had all the makings of a perfect evening in the pre-Internet era.

To offer perspective, my column got its start with a feature on dark-eyed juncos, also known as “snowbirds.” With the recent dip in temperatures, I have a feeling it won’t be long before we start seeing these winter visitors.

I’ve got some plans for digging up some vintage columns as I celebrate 30 years of writing this column during 2026. There may be some other special surprises. Stay tuned and thanks to all who have read these columns over the years.

Photo by Bryan Stevens
Two Black-necked Stilts forage along the causeway wetland at Huntington Beach State Park.

 

56th annual Fall Bird Count finds 120 species in Northeast Tennessee

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Photo by Jean Potter A single Wilson’s warbler made it onto the tally for this year’s Fall Bird Count

The 56th annual Elizabethton Fall Bird Count was held Saturday, Oct. 4. A total of 25 observers participated in about 13 parties. The weather was good, with clear skies, no wind and temperatures ranging from 42 to 82 degrees.

This year’s count tallied 120 species, plus two gull species and one Empidonax species of flycatcher. This total is slightly below the recent 30 year average of 124 species, according to compiler Rick Knight The all-time high on this count was 137 species in 1993.

The count is conducted in the Northeast Tennessee counties of Carter, Johnson, Sullivan, Unicoi and Washington.

Photo by Bryan Stevens A total of four pied-billed grebes were found during the recent Fall Bird Count. Numbers of this species will increase as the season advances.

The list:

Canada goose, 466; wood duck, 34; blue-winged teal, 21; mallard, 64; common merganser, 12; wild turkey, 15; and pied-billed grebe, 4.

Rock pigeon, 183; Eurasian collared-dove, 2; mourning dove, 145; yellow-billed cuckoo, 3; chimney swift, 176; and ruby-throated hummingbird, 1.

Killdeer, 41; spotted sandpiper, 3; solitary sandpiper, 2; and two gull species that could not be positively identified.

Double-crested cormorant, 30; green heron, 3; great egret, 5; great blue heron, 26; black vulture, 39; and turkey vulture, 195.

Osprey, 5; sharp-shinned hawk, 1; Cooper’s hawk, 6; bald eagle, 7; red-shouldered hawk, 6; broad-winged hawk, 1; red-tailed hawk, 17; American barn owl, 1; Eastern screech-owl, 24; great horned owl, 5; barred owl, 7; and Northern saw-whet owl, 3.

Belted kingfisher, 22; red-headed woodpecker, 5; red-bellied woodpecker, 71; yellow-bellied sapsucker, 9; downy woodpecker, 41; hairy woodpecker, 17; Northern flicker, 54; and pileated woodpecker, 17.

American kestrel, 14; merlin, 4; Eastern wood-pewee, 17; unidentifiable Empidonax species, 1; Eastern Phoebe, 82; yellow-throated vireo, 6; blue-headed vireo, 23; Philadelphia vireo, 4; red-eyed vireo, 10; and loggerhead shrike, 1.

Blue jay, 360; American crow, 416; fish crow, 4; and common raven, 21.

Carolina chickadee, 158; tufted titmouse, 140; tree swallow, 120; ruby-crowned kinglet, 13; golden-crowned kinglet, 4; cedar waxwing, 126; red-breasted nuthatch, 13; white-breasted nuthatch, 70; and brown creeper, 1.

Carolina wren, 135; house wren, 3; gray catbird, 27; brown thrasher, 9; Northern mockingbird, 74; and European starling, 560.

Photo by Jean Potter A Carolina wren creeps along a fence. A total of 135 of these wrens made it onto the recent Fall Bird Count.

Eastern bluebird, 157; veery, 1; gray-cheeked thrush, 5; Swainson’s thrush, 42; wood thrush, 7; American robin, 233.

House sparrow, 34; house finch, 50; red crossbill, 3; American goldfinch, 64; chipping sparrow, 51; field sparrow, 6; dark-eyed junco, 30; white-crowned sparrow, 1; white-throated sparrow, 2; savannah sparrow, 1; song sparrow, 98; swamp sparrow, 2; Eastern towhee, 47; and yellow-breasted chat, 1.

Eastern meadowlark, 20; red-winged blackbird, 70; brown-headed cowbird, 208; and common grackle, 24.

Ovenbird, 2; Northern waterthrush, 2; black-and-white warbler, 6; Tennessee warbler, 47; orange-crowned warbler, 1; Nashville warbler, 1; common yellowthroat, 12; hooded warbler, 5; American redstart, 21; Cape May warbler, 9; Northern parole, 21; magnolia warbler, 28; bay-breasted warbler, 47; Blackburnian warbler, 4; chestnut-sided warbler, 3; black-throated blue warbler, 11; palm warbler, 26; pine warbler, 4; yellow-rumped warbler, 4; yellow-throated warbler, 2; black-throated green warbler, 14; and Wilson’s warbler, 1.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Male American redstarts are unmistakable warblers in their orange, black and white plumage.

Scarlet tanager, 9; Northern cardinal, 165; Rose-breasted grosbeak, 13; and indigo bunting, 9.

Some species were noteworthy in their absence. Notable misses included white-eyed vireo, blue-gray gnatcatcher, winter wren, hermit thrush and blue grosbeak.

The count was held a week later than usual due to the fall meeting of the Tennessee Ornithological Society in

Johnson City. This may have accounted for some of the misses or low numbers for some species , such as the single hummingbird. On the other hand, the later date may have contributed to finding some of the later migrants, including orange-crowned warbler and white-throated sparrow.

The count has been held on the first Saturday in October a few times previously.

•••

Bryan Stevens began writing about birds, birders and birding in 1995. To share a sighting, ask a question or make a comment, email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Why do owls give a hoot? For many reasons

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Dave Menke/USFWS Great horned owls, such as this individual, are effective predators after dark.

As September slid into October, the evening serenades began. At first, they consisted of a pair of Eastern screech-owls calling from the surrounding woodlands. On Oct. 2, the low hoots of a great horned owl joined the wailing calls of the two screech-owls.

I’ve gotten into the habit of 10-minute walks in the evening after dinner, and I posted about the owls on my Facebook account.

Several friends responded, including Tom McNeil, a fellow birders and an fellow alumna of Hampton High School.

“We’ve been hearing a pair (of great horned owls) hooting up on the ridge between you and us,” Tom wrote. “We also had a barred owl calling a few weeks ago, which was only the second time ever.”

Tom and his wife, Cathy, reside in the Piney Grove community of Hampton. As he indicated, only a steep mountain ridge separates his property from mine.

That ridge is a magnet for birds, ranging from pileated woodpeckers and wild turkeys to warblers, vireos, tanagers, flycatchers and many other songbirds. The bird population changes with the seasons, but there’s always a diversity of birds making their home on those wooded slopes.

Linda Cauley also responded to my Facebook post, sharing that she also had recently heard a great horned owl.

Larry A. Woodward/USFWS Eastern screech-owl chicks peer from the tree cavity that served as their first home.

Kaylynn Sanford Wilster has also been hearing a great horned owl. “First great horned owl I’ve had here in forever it seems like,” she wrote. “I think there’s just one but I’m not sure.”

Joanne Campbell commented on my post.

“We had a big hoot owl right outside our door last week,” Joanne wrote. “Closest I’ve ever been to one.”

I’d been surprised to hear screech-owls, which are considerably smaller than a great horned owl, calling at the same time as their larger kin. Great horned owls are not finicky and will dine on any smaller creature they can seize in their strong talons. I’d heard that smaller owls usually go silent in the presence of this large nocturnal predator.

Of course, the screech-owls were relatively close to my home while the great horned owl’s calls were notably distant. Perhaps they felt that enough space existed between them to ease any worries.

I also got to wondering why owls are so vocal. A little research came up with some answers.

First, it’s important to note that Eastern screech-owls produce different vocalizations for various purposes. One of my favorites is the “whinny,” a descending call that is, apparently, a territorial display to inform other owls that they have claimed a territory as their own.

At this time of the year, juvenile screech-owls are also striking out on their own away from parental care. These young owls deploy the whinny to establish their own territories. They will need a well-defined territory to ensure they can find enough prey during the lean, cold winter months.

The whinny itself is of short duration, lasting only a couple of seconds. Screech-owls also produce other sounds, which have been described as hoots, barks and squeal.

Another common screech-owl vocalization is an even-pitched trill, often called a “bounce song” or tremolo. I can do a decent job imitating this sound, and I’ve often stirred up songbirds by doing so. A flock will sometimes materialize as if from thin air, as the members of the flock scold and search for the owl. It’s a good way to draw some curious birds closer for observation.

Bryan Stevens Lucy, a rehabilitated owl, helps programmers at Brookgreen Gardens provide educational programs about owls to the public.

Great horned owls, or “hoot owls” as they are widely known, also produce their low, nocturnal calls for many of the same reasons as screech-owls do. These large owls hoot to communicate, with the most common reasons being to define and defend territory, locate and attract a mate during breeding season and stay in contact with their young. Hooting also helps them establish boundaries with other owls and signals their presence, making their calls particularly energetic and frequent in the autumn and winter months when territories are being set up.

Pairs of great horned owls will hoot together as part of their courtship to strengthen their bond. A female owl’s voice is notably higher in pitch than the male’s, according to the website All About Birds. I’m hoping I will soon hear the duet that Tom and Cathy are enjoying on the other side of the ridge. So far, I’ve only detected the one great horned owl. I have heard these mesmerizing duets in the past, however. Listening can produce shivers down the spine. Of course, that is also helped by the fact they most often hoot on evenings once the weather had become more chilly.

The days are shorter, nights are longer, so now is a great time to get familiar with the owls. It can be as easy as stepping onto the front porch and listening.

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Bryan Stevens has been writing about birds, birding and birders since 1995. To share a sighting, ask a question or make a comment, email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Photo by Irene K-s/Pixabay.com
An Eastern screech owl keeps an eye on its surroundings.

Broad-winged hawk is region’s migratory raptor

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COURTNEY CELLEY/USFWS • A broad-winged hawk perches with a snake in its talons.

I’ve been seeing a few birds that qualify as fall migrants, but there have been some other birds in the mix, such as red-shouldered hawk.

In the last five years or so, red-shouldered hawk has become a year-round resident. But I hadn’t seen or heard one of these hawk since early summer, so I’m not sure if this individual was a resident or simply one passing through during this time of flux for our feathered friends.

Migration by its nature stirs up birds, which may pop into some unexpected places for a pit-stop on their travel route.

Other birds I’ve seen or heard recently include broad-winged hawk, Eastern wood-pewee, Northern waterthrush, hooded warbler, gray catbird, blue jay, American goldfinch, American crow, common raven, great blue heron and Eastern phoebe, as well as ruby-throated hummingbird and three woodpecker species: Downy, pileated and red-bellied.

The hawks, however, got my attention. The broad-winged hawk, known scientifically as Buteo platypterus, thrills onlookers every September by staging phenomenal migratory flights that can include hundreds or thousands of individual birds. The term “platypterus” translates from Greek as “wide winged.”

Outside of birding circles, however, the broad-winged hawk is not nearly as widely known for its migratory feats as, for example, the monarch butterfly or Eastern North America’s ruby-throated hummingbird. When time to migrate, these hawks form large flocks, which also include other raptor species. “Hawk watches” are held at some famous peaks. A Mendota Hawk Watch is conducted ever fall on Clinch Mountain near an abandoned fire tower close to Mendota, Virginia.

Larry McDaniel with the Bristol Bird Club reported that the watch this season has been productive.

“The Mendota Hawk Watch is going strong with good coverage and lots of raptors,” he wrote in a Facebook post on Sept. 19. “There have already been over 3.600 broad-wings reported and we are just now getting into the statistical peak. The show will be over by late September, so get up there while the birds are still flying.”

Other famous “hawk watch” locations in the eastern United States include Whitefish Point in Michigan and Hawk Ridge, Minnesota. Closer to home, I’ve seen sizeable flocks, or kettles, of broad-winged hawks, on occasion in the company of other raptors, on Holston Mountain and Roan Mountain.

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

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

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

The broad-winged hawk, like all of its kin, is a predatory bird. These medium-sized hawks prey primarily on rodents, amphibians and insects, but they will also capture and eat snakes. They take some time to prepare prey after making a capture. In the case of snakes and frogs, these hawks “skin” their victims.

Many of our hawks are resident throughout the year, but the broad-winged hawk only spends the spring and summer. Look for them now. They won’t return until late April and early May in 2026.

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

Use autumn to get ready for bird-feeding season

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Bryan Stevens • A female Northern cardinal visits a hanging platform feeder for a winter meal of sunflower seeds.

I’ve enjoyed a decent amount of activity in my yard this fall, enjoying visits from ruby-throated hummingbirds and American goldfinches as well as brown thrashers and gray catbirds. I’ve also glimpsed a few warblers. As much as I enjoy fall, crowding into my awareness is the fact that cold weather will soon be with us again.

Even that fact, however, is not totally unwelcome. Winter’s a fine season for peering through the windows at the birds that flock to feeders. So, with the winter season looming just around the corner, now might be a good time to take some steps to make your yard and feeders more attractive and welcoming to our feathered friends.

Photo Courtesy of Byron Tucker
A Rose-breasted Grosbeak joins a Red-bellied Woodpecker at a feeder in Atlanta.

Seeing all the activity in my yard during fall migration made me want to ensure that it remains attractive for those birds that choose to eke out a living during the colder months of the year in our region.

Here are a few suggestions of things to do this fall to make your winter bird feeding more productive. It’s better to do these outdoor chores now before winter truly put a nip in the air.

• Plant native trees that bear fruit. Autumn’s a recommended planting time for many trees, so consider checking with a local nursery about the selection of such native trees as American holly, serviceberry and red mulberry. It’s always good to select trees that provide fruit at different seasons to maximize the appeal of your plantings to birds. A flock of American robins or cedar waxwings, or even a pair of Northern mockingbirds, can quickly strip berries from a holly tree when conditions turn snowy and icy.

• Build or refurbish a brush pile. Fall’s a season for pruning, so take those discarded limbs and twigs to construct a protective shelter for songbirds. Shy birds that naturally avoid open spaces can be coaxed closer to feeders by having access to a tangle of sticks and brush. A brush pile offers a degree of protection should songbirds at your feeder need to find a quick hiding place when a hawk or other predator makes an unexpected appearance.

• Evaluate feeders. The winter season brings snow, ice and a flurry of renewed interest in bird feeders, so now is the time to clean and replace feeders. The elements are not always kind on feeders, so when it becomes apparent that a feeder is in poor condition, consider replacing it with a new one. It’s also important to give feeders a thorough cleaning. Using a mild bleach solution will help disinfect them and make feeding from them safe for our feathered friends. Just be sure to rinse throughly and then dry the feeder before hanging it back out.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Field guides are an essential tool for bird identification.

• Take some steps to increase your enjoyment of the birds coming to your feeders. Invest in a good bird identification guide or app. I am a fan of a good field guide that I can hold in my hands while thumbing through the pages, but I know that many people prefer the convenience of an app that’s accessible through their smartphone. Some popular apps would include the Audubon Bird Guide, eBird and Merlin Bird ID. Some of my recommended field guides include Peterson Field Guide to Birds of North America and The Sibley Field Guide to Birds of Eastern North America. Identifying birds congregated in the winter at a feeder is often easier than trying to track them through the green canopy during the other seasons. Of course, you’ll want to be aware that some birds wear different plumages during the winter months. The guides and apps can help with these identification challenges.

• Upgrade your optics. Place a pair of binoculars on your Christmas list. Bring the birds closer to you with a reliable pair of binoculars. It will make all the difference.

• Don’t take down the sugar water feeders just yet. Although ruby-throated hummingbirds almost all depart in early October, other species of hummingbirds normally found in the western United States have reliably made appearances in the region in October, November and other winter months. Through the years, I have seen several of these seemingly out-of-place hummingbirds. Some of them remain at their host’s feeders for a brief stay of a few days or a couple of weeks, but some of these hummingbirds have extended their stay for several months, lingering throughout the winter months before eventually departing in February or March. The big question concerns whether these hummingbirds are truly lost and out of place. The answer, based on everything I have managed to learn, is that these hummingbirds are precisely where they want to be. For still unknown reasons, some of these western hummingbirds make a migration swing through the eastern United States. One thing is certain: You won’t see one of these “strays” unless you keep out a feeder with fresh sugar water. It’s not that difficult. After all, the ants and wasps that made a nuisance of themselves during warmer temperatures are no longer active. If it gets too cold, you can always move your feeders inside at night and put back outdoors at daylight. If you do happen to attract a winter hummingbird, please let me know. I love helping to document these rare visitors.

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Bryan Stevens has written about birds, birders and birding since 1995. Share sightings, ask questions or make a comment by emailing him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Male and female purple finches share space at a feeder.

Birds with different spring and fall looks challenge birders

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Photo by Bryan Stevens • A young male Rose-breasted Grosbeak visits a feeder in September of 2013. Young males resemble females but show a splash of orange on the breast that will be replaced the following spring by the familiar rosy-red patch.

My favorite season is fall. I’m always excited when birds return in the spring, but I have better luck observing fall migrants.

There’s a trade-off, however. Many birds don’t look their best by the time autumn migration rolls around. Take the male indigo bunting, for instance. This species 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.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Male indigo buntings look their best when they arrive each spring. They most over the summer, giving fall males a blotchy plumage of brown with some hints of blue remaining..

For such a bright blue bird, indigo buntings are not easy to detect. When that plumage gets mottled with brown patches in fall, these birds blend even better with their backgrounds.

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.

Indigo buntings linger into early October, but they also molt feathers and take on a less showy look in late summer and fall. Even the males can end up looking rather shabby compared to a spring counterpart in electric blue plumage.

The rose-breasted grosbeak, or at least adult males of the species, are birds that can take one’s breath away when observed in spring when the birds first return from their tropical wintering grounds. By fall, however, even adult males have lost some of the crisp black-and-white plumage and the rosy coloration on the breast often fades to dull orange.

In fall, the rose-breasted grosbeak migrates south to a winter range that spans central Mexico, Central America and northern South America. As they depart, many will make stops in yards with feeders to partake of offerings of sunflower seeds. So, if you didn’t get to see these showy birds in the spring, local bird enthusiasts get another chance to see them in this month and into October.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Some of the Rose-breasted Grosbeaks migrating through this fall still retain some of their rosy color.

The male rose-breasted grosbeak gives this species it name. Males are the epitome of the birds that make their home for part of the year in the American tropics. The contrasting black and white plumage is emphasized by a triangular slash of rosy-red color on the breast. Put all those elements together and the male rose-breasted grosbeak is not a bird that would be mistaken for any other.

The female grosbeak, however, doesn’t stand out in the same way. She is much less colorful than the male. With her brown and white plumage, she is often mistaken for a large sparrow or finch. At this time of year, however, all rose-breasted grosbeaks: Adult males, adult females and young birds born this past summer can look dull. The best way to identify them is by focusing on the beak. That large, sturdy beak gives this species the other part of its name. “Gros” is a German word for big, so the name basically means “big beak.”

A fall appearance at odds with how a bird looks in the spring is also true of the scarlet tanager. The vibrant red and black spring males may look yellow or greenish-yellow once the acquire their fall and winter plumage. It’s not all that surprising. The males no longer have to impress females with their splendid coloration once the nesting season’s concluded.

The warblers, my absolute favorite family of birds, are famous for looking different in the fall. Long ago, someone coined the phrase “confusing fall warblers” since many young birds and even adult birds in fall plumage can look different than spring birds.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The appearance of yellow-throated warblers does not change much from spring to autumn.

To identify confusing fall warblers, focus on features that remain consistent in their drabber autumn plumage, such as bill shape, leg color, tail patterns, wing bars and subtle facial markings. Learning the foraging behaviors of the various species can also be helpful.

Some of the warblers that look much different in fall includes species like magnolia warbler, Tennessee warbler, chestnut-sided warbler and Cape May warbler. Other species, such as hooded warbler, ovenbird and Northern waterthrush don’t change all that much with the seasons.

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Bryan Stevens is the managing editor of The Erwin Record. He has written about birds, birders and birding since 1995. To ask a question, make a comment or share a sighting, email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Common nighthawks share autumn skies with many other migrants

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Autumn’s a chance for me to indulge my passion for warblers, with a few dozen species of these songbirds passing through the region in the span of a few weeks. I always try to keep in mind, however, that the warblers are not the only migrating birds winging through the region.

The Elizabethton Bird Club had planned a “nighthawks and hot dogs” party at the home of Larry McDaniel near Jonesborough, but that event had to be cancelled because of the recent surge in COVID-19 cases in the region.

My silver lining was that I saw a large flock of common nighthawks at my home on Aug. 29. It was an evening of birding dominated by insect-eaters and fruit-eaters.

Cedar waxwings and one American robin perched in the wild cherry trees and plucked ripening fruit from the branches.

Swooping overhead a handful of Chimney Swifts and about 30 Common Nighthawks (the first I have seen this fall) collected insects just over the treetops. Flycatching from a dead blue spruce was an Eastern Wood-Pewee, another fall first.

Other birds included a pair of Northern cardinals feeding three young, an Eastern towhee and one hooded warbler. At one point an irritable ruby-throated hummingbird chased the pewee round and round the trunk of the dead spruce. They almost looked like they were characters in a zany cartoon.

Photo by Jean Potter • A common nighthawk rests on a metal railing.

Like such birds as warblers, vireos, thrushes, tanagers, flycatchers and hummingbirds, the common nighthawk is a neotropical migrant. In addition, this nighthawk has one of the longest migration routes of any North American bird. Twice a year, these birds migrate for distances ranging from 1,600 to 4,200 miles. Nighthawks that spend the spring and summer in Canada travel to southern South America for the winter months.

With September advancing on the calendar, I have been keeping an eye on the treetops for passing warblers, vireos and tanagers, but I also remember to direct my gaze to the skies. Forgetting to look skyward could result in missing the passage of such varied migrants as chimney swifts, broad-winged hawks and common nighthawks.

So, what is a common nighthawk? First, this bird, despite what is implied by its name, is not a hawk. It’s also not strictly nocturnal. Particularly in the fall, nighthawks are active during daylight hours when engaged in catching winged insects. Outside of fall migration, these birds can often be observed over large parking lots or well-lit streets, snatching up insects swarming around the light poles.

Photo by Skeeze/Pixabay • A common nighthawk adopts an elongated pose atop a fencepost.

The common nighthawk is one of three members of the nightjar family found in the region during the summer months. The other two nightjars are the whip-poor-will and chuck-will’s-widow, birds that produce their namesake vocalizations in the nocturnal hours. Both of these species migrate, but they don’t take the dramatic approach employed by nighthawks. Each fall, common nighthawks form large flocks, ranging in size from dozens to hundreds or even thousands of individuals, as they migrate south for the winter.

Unlike whips and chucks, the common nighthawk isn’t active only after dark, which makes it much easier to observe these birds. They look somewhat like swifts and swallows but are much larger. They are brownish-gray birds with pointed wings and forked tails. They are easily identified by distinctive white patches on the underside of their wings.

A perplexing nickname for the common nighthawk is “bull-bat.” This merger of the words “bull” and “bat” makes sense when you explore a little deeper. The common nighthawk earned the nickname “bull-bat” because of its perceived “bat-like” flight and a “bull-like” boom produced by its wings as it pulls out of a dive.

The nightjar, or Caprimulgidae, family of birds is also sometimes known as “goatsuckers.” Apparently, in trying to explain the nocturnal tendencies of these birds, the Greeks came up with the imaginative but erroneous idea that birds like nighthawks liked to sneak into barns and have a meal of fresh goat’s milk. In reality, nighthawks feed almost exclusively on insects, including ants, wasps, beetles, caddisflies, moths, mayflies, flies, crickets, grasshoppers, and other insects. They capture much of their insect prey on the wing.

There are almost 80 species of nightjars in the world. Less than 10 occur in North America. Many of the common nighthawk’s relatives have been given descriptive names, such as long-trained nightjar, collared nightjar, spot-tailed nightjar, red-necked nightjar, golden nightjar, fiery-necked nightjar, swamp nightjar, pennant-winged nightjar, lyre-tailed nightjar, little nightjar, sickle-winged nightjar, rufous-bellied nighthawk, short-tailed nighthawk, sand-coloured nighthawk and least nighthawk.

So, keep looking skyward. The next flock of migrating common nighthawks may fly over your home. These flocks are usually on the move in August and throughout September.

I will keep watching the skies. Nighthawks can also appear almost magically, as if out of thin air. First, observers may see one of two birds, then several, followed quickly by dozens or sometimes hundreds as they wheel and cavort in the skies overhead with impressive grace and agility. I’ve seen flocks that would easily number more than 500 birds in locations throughout the region, although flocks often number only a couple of dozen birds.

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

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Rising clouds provide a backdrop for a flock of migrating nighthawks.