Tag Archives: Bryan Stevens

Spring signs less clear than in seasons past

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Photo by Bryan Stevens * A male mallard lounges by the edge of a fish pond in a previous spring season.

Signs of spring are, as the old saying goes, popping up all over. Daffodils and crocuses unfurling their blooms, a pair of mallards paying a visit to my fish pond and the blue skies overhead on sunny days have signaled the transition toward spring as surely as the turning of the calendar page to March.

Some of these familiar sights have been hazy for me during this season of transition. In early February I lost vision in my right eye. After visits to various medical experts, an MRI, blood tests and other procedures, I got a diagnosis of optic papillitis, a form of optic neuritis. In simpler terms, I suffered a stroke of the eye that aggravated and inflamed the optic nerve.

The good news, as I see it, tests have not found any evidence of underlying conditions like cancer or a brain tumor. The bad news, also as I see it, is that recovery is not guaranteed and can take time. The process is usually measured in weeks and months, not days.

It’s been unsettling, to describe it mildly. Reading requires the assistance of a magnifying glass. Too much time focused on a bright screen brings discomfort.

I’m carrying on with birding as best I can. Binoculars, as birders know, are made for use by two eyes. I have feeders to lure the birds in close, but my favorite cardinals, chickadees and wrens are a bit blurry.

I’ve always tried to stay optimistic. I’m hopeful that by the time the ruby-throated hummingbirds return for a sip of sugar water at my feeders in April, my sight will be good enough to enjoy the beauty of their green and white plumage and the brilliant red throat if the visiting hummer is a male.

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

If spring’s too soon, I’ll push the goal farther along in the 2023 calendar and hope to be ready to identify the annual fall parade of warblers.

As I wait, nothing’s stopping me from enjoying the sounds of spring. On rainy days, the chorus of spring peepers produce their amphibious cacophany at dusk and throughout the night. Many of the birds are also singing their hearts out. Eastern phoebes, tufted titmice, Carolina chickadees and Northern cardinals all make their presence with their loud, persistent songs.

On Monday, Feb. 20, I watched as the fuzzy shapes of two dozen red-winged blackbirds dropped down into the cattails in the marshy area near the fish pond. It’s not February for me until I’ve seen a migrating flock of blackbirds benefitting from an overnight stay in the cattails.

Photo by Bryan Stevens * A mallard drake looks vibrant with his green, glossy head.

On Sunday, Feb. 26, a mallard pair visited the fish pond. They were the first mallards that I’ve observed at my fish pond for many years. In full disclosure, my mom spotted them and informed me of their arrival. Mallards are big enough that I saw the male of the pair easily enough. His green head and chestnut breast stood out from the brown cattails and other vegetation bordering the pond. The female mallard blended nicely with the background and evaded my gaze. Regardless, I was thrilled to welcome mallards back to the pond. They only lingered for a single day, but they have me hoping that other ducks, such as blue-winged teal or wood ducks, will make similar visits as the season progresses.

On March 1, I saw my first spring butterfly. The seasonal first was a spring azure, a tiny, delicate butterfly. The sighting reminded me that nature will provide plenty of incentive to work on regaining my full vision. I still have more butterflies, as well as dragonflies, damselflies, moths and June bugs to look forward to seeing as we progress through spring and summer.

I’ve always believed that nature is a restorative force. Now I am going to test that theory in my goal to have my vision back at or near normal capacity by the time I hear the buzzy whir of hummingbird wings in April.

In the meantime, there will still be plenty of time to focus on our myriad feathered friends. I have someone who has been great at taking down my dictated words for my weekly column.

As always, make a comment, share an observation or ask a question by emailing me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

 

 

 

Man hits a bonanza with recent sighting of eagles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Give bluebirds a hand as they scout for nesting locations

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Photo by Matthew Saulsbury/Pixabay • Bluebirds are likely already scouting for nesting cavities and nest boxes in the region.

It’s time to turn the calendar page to February and, depending on the prognostication of the groundhog, winter may or may not be on the wane. Regardless, some of our feather friends are already acting like spring has sprung.
Perhaps it’s simply confusion when days can veer from sunny, short-sleeve conditions to frigid snowstorms, but I tend to trust the instincts of our fine feathered friends.

An email from Unicoi County resident Amanda Austwick proved timely.
“I saw a post on Facebook from a woman in Ontario, Canada, and she had a photo of a bluebird in a tree surrounded by red berries, with a touch of snow on them,” Amanda wrote. “I thought bluebirds migrated south in winter.”

I responded to Amanda’s email and will share some information in this week’s column. For the most part, local bluebirds do not migrate out of the region in winter. Bluebirds living farther north do often, but not always, migrate farther south.
As I mentioned to Amanda, I notice bluebirds almost daily on my drive from home to work. On sunny mornings, male Eastern bluebirds are producing their enthusiastic, warbling song even if there’s been a touch of frost overnight.

The Eastern bluebird is one of North America’s best-known cavity-nesting birds. About 85 species of North American birds use cavities in trees for nesting purposes. Cavity-nesting birds include ducks, such as buffleheads and wood ducks, as well as birds of prey such as Eastern screech-owls and American kestrels. Woodpeckers and nuthatches can excavate their own cavity in a dead or decaying tree.

Others, such as the bluebirds, must find a cavity already in existence. Such cavities are scarce real estate and can be subject to some intense competition.
The Eastern bluebird is at a disadvantage when forced to compete with non-native introduced birds such as aggressive European starlings and house sparrows. Even native competitors such as house wrens and tree swallows are serious rivals when it comes down to staking a claim to prime nesting sites.

Over the years, I have found bluebirds nesting in cavities inside wooden fence posts, but there are fewer wooden fence posts every year. This reinforces the idea of how changing landscapes have affected these birds. Instead of wooden fence posts, many farmers now use metal ones, and dead or dying trees — a much sought-after resource for cavity-nesting birds — are often removed from woodlands. Winter storms this season, along with accompanying high winds, have brought down numerous trees in the woodlands around my home, no doubt removing some current or future nesting possibilities.

When it comes to choosing a nesting cavity, male bluebirds take the lead, investigating and exploring potential sites before introducing females to the chosen real estate. If she accepts his choice, she will build the nest.

Cavities can also find use by bluebirds for secure locations for roosting overnight. According to the website Tennessee Watchable Wildlife, observers have documented bluebirds using nest boxes to stay warm during cold winter nights, packing eight to 12 individuals into one box. With the generated body heat from all those birds, I imagine that was one cozy box!

The website also noted that the oldest known Eastern bluebird in the wild reached an age of 10 years and six months. Given that most songbird live fairly short lives, that was quite an achievement.

For those interested in becoming bluebird landlords, check out nest box designs at the Tennessee Watchable Wildlife website. Several different nest box designs are available at the profile for the Eastern bluebird at tnwatchablewildlife.org.
If you’re not a do-it-yourself individuals, most lawn and garden centers, farm supply stores and speciality bird shops carry readymade bluebird boxes for purchase.
In addition to housing, food and water can be used to lure Eastern bluebirds closer. This bird doesn’t eat seeds, but it can be attracted with an offering of mealworms — live or freeze-dried – or commercially prepared peanut butter nuggets. A water feature in a yard is also a magnet for bluebirds and a host of other bird species.

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

Cardinals provide a great symbol for Christmas season

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Photo by Jack Bulmer/Pixabay • A male Northern cardinal is a cheerful feathered ambassador on even a dreary day. While fairly commonplace, cardinals are worth getting to know and are easily attracted with sunflower seed.

Christmas 2022 is almost upon us. As is my usual custom, I want to share my enthusiasm for the Northern cardinal, one of my favorite birds. One male cardinal around my home as become very accustomed to my presence. He has even learned my routine and knows when to anticipate my daily stocking of the feeders with sunflower seeds.

At first, he kept an eye on my actions from a safe distance, but he gradually grew bolder. Soon, he began to land on the feeder before I even had my back turned and was heading back inside the house. His familiarity also bred impatience. He began to detect my routine. Once I get home from work in the evening, I head first to the mailbox. More often than not, I glimpse a flash of red feathers near the feeders while retrieving the most recent postal deliveries. My dependable cardinal always makes me smile. The bird has learned that a meal is imminent once I have completed this one chore.

If I don’t immediately return to the feeders with sunflower seeds, he will wait until I emerge from the house. He isn’t quite so brave that he will stay perched on the feeder as I replenish the supply, but he has definitely learned that his human friend is the source of all the free seeds.

I have always enjoyed watching cardinals. The beauty of both male and female cardinals is undeniable. They’re usually nervous, twitchy birds, so it has been fun watching this particular male cardinal grow accepting of my presence.
The Northern cardinal, especially the brilliant red male, stands out against a winter backdrop of snow white, deep green or drab gray. Over the years, the cardinal has also become associated with the Christmas season. How many Christmas cards have you received this holiday season with a cardinal featured in the artwork? I’d wager that at least a few cards in any assortment of holiday greetings will feature the likeness of a Northern cardinal.

There is a possible reason that male cardinals try to outshine each other when it comes to their bright red plumage. According to the website Tennessee Watchable Wildlife, brighter red male cardinals are able to hold territories that have denser vegetation, feed young at higher rates and have greater reproductive success than males with feathers of a duller hue.

The Northern cardinal belongs to a genus of birds known as Cardinalis in the family Cardinalidae. There are only two other species in this genus, and they range across North America and into northern South America. The two relatives are the pyrrhuloxia, or Cardinalis sinuatus, of the southwestern United States, and the Vermilion cardinal, or phoeniceus, a bird found in Colombia and Venezuela.
The Northern cardinal is a native and abundant bird. Cardinals are a widespread species, ranging westward to the Dakotas and south to the Gulf Coast and Texas. The southeastern United States was once the stronghold of the cardinal population. In the past century, however, cardinals have expanded their range into New England and Canada.

The cardinal accepts a wide variety of food at feeders. Sunflower seed is probably their favorite, but they will also sample safflower seed, cracked corn, peanuts, millet, bakery scraps and even suet. While we may get the idea that cardinals feed largely on seed, that is a misconception based on our observation of the birds at our feeders. Cardinals away from our feeders eat insects and fruit, including the berries of mulberry, holly, pokeberry, elderberry, Russian olive, dogwood and sumac.
The cardinal uses its large beak to efficiently hull sunflower seeds or deal with other foods foraged in field and forest away from our feeders. The large, heavy beak hints at the cardinal’s kinship with birds such as tanagers and grosbeaks. In fact, some of America’s early naturalists referred to the bird as “cardinal grosbeak.” Other common names include the apt “redbird” moniker and “Virginia nightingale.”

Even once the holidays are past, there’s nothing like a glimpse of a Northern cardinal to add some cheer to a bleak winter day. It’s not surprising that such a popular bird has also become associated with many trappings of the Christmas season.
“You see cardinals on greeting cards, stationery, paper plates, paper napkins and tablecloths, doormats, light switch plates, candles, candle holders, coffee mugs, plates, glasses, Christmas tree ornaments and lights, bookmarks, mailboxes, Christmas jewelry,” writes June Osborne in “The Cardinal,” a book about this popular bird.

“And the list goes on,” Osborne writes. “Cardinals have become an integral part of the way that many people celebrate the holiday season.”

I can be included among such people. My Christmas decorations include an assortment of cardinal figurines and ornaments. There are other birds — doves and penguins for example — associated with the holiday season, but for me the holidays magnify the importance of one of my favorite birds. The cardinal, in its festive red plumage, appears made to order for a symbol of the holiday season.

 

Belted kingfisher is a member of an interesting family of birds

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Photo by Pexels/Pixabay A common kingfisher, also known as river kingfisher, perches near a water source. The common kingfisher ranges widely across Europe, Asia and North Africa.

Fishing is a favorite pastime for many people, who like nothing better than to spend a lazy summer afternoon trying their luck at their favorite fishing spot. Some of our feathered friends are skilled anglers.

The belted kingfisher’s nature as an angler rules out this bird ever visiting feeders in the backyard, but that doesn’t mean you’re unlikely to see this bird. For most of June and now July a belted kingfisher has been lurking around the creek and pond at my home.  With a little strategic effort, an observation of a belted kingfisher is fairly easy to obtain, especially during the summer months. If you live near a stream, pond, river or other body of water, you have probably been fortunate enough to observe a belted kingfisher as it goes about its daily routine.

If you are a fishing enthusiast yourself, you’ve likely shared some favorite fishing holes with this bird. The belted kingfisher is patient in its pursuit of fish. The birds prefer to perch on an exposed branch or a wire that overlooks a body of water that offers ample fishing opportunities. The belted kingfisher, however, is capable of hovering in place in order to spot and then capture its prey in an impressive plunge and lunge into the water.

Most of my observations of hunting kingfishers have involved the birds in their ambush approach to fishing — perching and diving on the unsuspecting fish. I have on a few occasions, however, also observed kingfishers as they hover over the water in a quest for a meal.

The belted kingfisher, like most of its kin, looks to have a head and bill that are slightly too large for the rest of the body. It’s the long, heavy bill that the kingfishers uses to snatch fish from their watery homes.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A belted kingfisher perches on a branch along the Erwin Linear Trail.

Speaking of kin, the belted kingfisher is only one of 114 species found worldwide. Worldwide, these amazing birds range in size from the 16-inch-long laughing kookaburra of Australia to the tiny African dwarf kingfisher, which at four inches in length is smaller than most sparrows. This family of birds is divided into three groupings, the river kingfishers, the tree kingfishers and the water kingfishers. Kingfishers are a cosmopolitan family of birds with species present on every continent except Antarctica.

Despite the name “kingfisher,” not all kingfishers exist on a diet of fish. Some members of the kingfisher family instead prey on other quarry, such as snakes, lizards and insects.

Some interesting common names have been used to identify the world’s kingfishers, including half-collared kingfisher, shining blue kingfisher, blue-eared kingfisher, azure kingfisher, indigo-banded kingfisher, silvery kingfisher, malachite kingfisher, white-bellied kingfisher, cerulean kingfisher, rufous-backed kingfisher, spangled kookaburra, rufous-bellied kookaburra, shovel-billed kookaburra, lilac kingfisher, brown-winged kingfisher, stork-billed kingfisher, great-billed kingfisher, striped kingfisher, lazuli kingfisher, ultramarine kingfisher, cinnamon-banded kingfisher, sacred kingfisher, mewing kingfisher, chattering kingfisher, glittering kingfisher, red-breasted paradise kingfisher, pied kingfisher and green-and-rufous kingfisher.

The three North American kingfishers, however, are exclusively fish-eaters. The belted kingfisher, with a range that spans most of the United States, is the only kingfisher encountered by most Americans. Two others, the ringed kingfisher and the green kingfisher, are found in Texas and occasionally in other locations near the Mexican border.

In her book “The Folklore of Birds,” Laura C. Martin writes that in some accounts the kingfisher, not the dove, was the second bird Noah released from the ark after the Biblical flood. Instead of looking for land, the kingfisher flew too high and the sun scorched the bird’s feathers. After his setback with the raven and now the kingfisher, Noah made the kingfisher remain on the ark’s deck to catch its food from the water.

Halcyon days, a term meaning a period of peaceful quiet, is derived from Greek legend. According to the legend, the god Zeus restrained the storms during the period when the kingfishers nest. The scientific name for the belted kingfisher is Megaceryle alcyon, a variation on the term “halcyon.”

Again in Martin’s book, there is an account of a Cherokee legend about how the kingfisher acquired its angling lifestyle. The poor bird wanted to be a waterbird, but lacked the equipment to make a living at fishing. The other animals convened a council and, in pity for the kingfisher’s plight, endowed the bird with its spear-like bill. Since that time, the bird has been known as “king of the fishers.”

The “king of the fishers” is indeed to be envied by human anglers. Although not successful in every attempt, the belted kingfisher is certainly exceptional in its pursuit of fish. According to John Eastman in his book, “Birds of Lake, Pond and Marsh,” the belted kingfisher typically captures about 10 fish per day. Some human anglers would envy a success rate like that.

To observe this bird for yourself, stake out a pond or section of river -— the linear trail in Erwin and the pond at Fishery Park are good locations. In my experience, however, the belted kingfisher is somewhat wary of humans, so observe from a respectful distance or you’re likely to scare off the bird, which will depart giving its rattling call that sounds so much like a sound of pure annoyance.

Sandpiper a surprise addition for summer bird count

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Photo by USFWS • A baby least sandpiper shelters beneath its dutiful mother. The aptly named least sandpiper is the smallest species of shorebird.

It’s not too often I get a chance to make a historic bird sighting, but that’s what happened on a recent Saturday while seated on a bench with Rob Armistead having a breakfast break while taking part in a seasonal bird survey in Elizabethton along the Watauga River.

I chose the location for the break because I knew that it has traditionally been a good spot to observe some unexpected species. Past good birds that I’ve observed along this section of the Watauga River have included orange-crowned warbler, yellow-throated vireo, sora, Baltimore oriole and red-headed woodpecker.

On this occasion, a tiny shorebird made an appearance, settling on some exposed rock formations. In April and May, these same rocks are great locations to find migrating spotted sandpipers and solitary sandpipers. 

The bird was smaller than these sandpipers and immediately stood out as a “peep,” a nickname that birders give to a group of small sandpipers that are all similar in appearance.

The one physical trait that help distinguish a least sandpiper from other “peeps” is leg coloration. Least sandpipers have greenish or yellowish legs in contrast to the black legs of other similar “peeps.”

In good light and at close range, Rob and I confirmed that the bird had greenish legs and were thrilled to add a least sandpiper to our own tally of observed birds.

The least sandpiper, as suggested by its name, is the smallest member of the sandpiper family. In fact, this sandpiper, which is not much bigger than a sparrow, is the world’s smallest shorebird. The least sandpiper weighs only a single ounce and is only five to six inches long. 

According to the website All About Birds, the least sandpiper migrates thousands of miles between its Arctic breeding grounds and wintering grounds as far south as Chile and Brazil.

In releasing the count compilation, official compiler Rick Knight made note of the fact that the least sandpiper represents a late migrant and the first-ever June record for the species in the five-county area. 

During the course of the day, Rob and I joined Brookie and Jean Potter for a trip to Holston Mountain, where we added some mid- to high-elevation species such as scarlet tanager, rose-breasted grosbeak, veery, Eastern wood-pewee, dark-eyed junco, ruffed course and chestnut-sided warbler. 

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A male rose-breasted grosbeak perched on a branch on Roan Mountain, Tennessee.

This year’s survey was the 29th annual Carter County Summer Bird Count and was conducted by members and friends of the Elizabethton Bird Club. I’ve been participating on this yearly survey of local birds since the late 1990s.

This year’s count was held Saturday, June 11. A total of 22 observers took part in this year’s count. 

A total of 116 species was tallied, which is right on average for the last decade and slightly above the average of 114 over the previous 28 years, according to Knight.

He noted that the all-time high for this count was 123 species in 2017.

Here’s the total:

 Canada goose, 131; wood duck, 9; mallard, 53; ruffed grouse, 3; and wild turkey, 20.

Rock pigeon, 49; Eurasian collared-dove, 1; mourning dove, 155; yellow-billed cuckoo, 1; Chuck-will’s-widow, 4; Eastern whip-poor-will, 9; chimney swift, 116; and ruby-throated hummingbird, 22.

Killdeer, 18; least sandpiper, 1; double-crested cormorant, 13; great Blue heron, 22; and green heron, 2.

Black vulture, 5; turkey vulture, 65; Cooper’s hawk, 4; bald eagle, 1; red-shouldered hawk, 2; broad-winged hawk, 5; red-tailed hawk, 5; Eastern screech-owl, 6; and barred owl, 3.

Belted kingfisher, 5; red-bellied woodpecker, 32; downy Woodpecker, 23; hairy woodpecker, 4; Northern flicker, 27; and pileated woodpecker, 16.

American kestrel, 1; great crested flycatcher, 2; Eastern kingbird, 27; Eastern wood-pewee, 31; Acadian flycatcher, 20; alder flycatcher, 2; least flycatcher, 12; and Eastern phoebe, 73.

White-eyed vireo, 5; yellow-throated vireo, 1; blue-headed vireo, 54; warbling vireo, 1; and red-eyed vireo, 165.

Blue jay, 110; American crow, 259; fish crow, 2; and common raven, 10.

Tree swallow, 118; Northern rough-winged swallow, 45; purple martin, 22; barn swallow, 173; and cliff swallow, 265.

Carolina chickadee, 73; tufted titmouse, 93; red-breasted nuthatch, 14; white-breasted nuthatch, 23; house wren, 57; winter wren,  4; and Carolina wren,  116.

Blue-gray gnatcatcher,  23; golden-crowned kinglet, 7; Eastern bluebird, 152; veery,  29; hermit thrush, 1; wood thrush, 66; American robin,  581; gray catbird, 60; brown thrasher,  22; and Northern mockingbird, 70

European starling, 411; cedar waxwing, 61; house sparrow, 98; house finch, 51; pine siskin, 10; and American goldfinch, 170.

Grasshopper sparrow, 1; chipping sparrow,  80; field sparrow, 43, dark-eyed junco, 70; song sparrow, 348; Eastern towhee, 150; yellow-breasted chat, 7.

Eastern meadowlark, 13; orchard oriole, 2; Baltimore oriole , 1; red-winged blackbird, 73; brown-headed cowbird, 49; and common grackle,143.

Ovenbird, 77; worm-eating warbler  3; Louisiana waterthrush, 12; golden-winged warbler,  2; black-&-white warbler, 31; Swainson’s warbler, 6; common yellowthroat, 31; hooded warbler,  110; American redstart , 6; Northern parula, 47; magnolia warbler, 1; Blackburnian warbler,  5; yellow warbler, 3; chestnut-sided warbler, 31; black-throated blue warbler, 49; pine warbler,  3; yellow-rumped warbler, 1; yellow-throated warbler, 16; black-throated green warbler, 19; and Canada warbler,  10.

Scarlet tanager, 42; Northern cardinal, 173; rose-breasted grosbeak, 7; blue grosbeak, 4; and indigo bunting, 161.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A young grouse follows its mother into concealment by the edge of a road on Holston Mountain, Tennessee.

My other personal highlight on this count was seeing three young Ruffed Grouse darting  across the road, one at a time, while riding on Panhandle Road to the top of Holston Mountain. Those three young grouse turned out to be the only grouse counted by any participants on the count.

The Unicoi County Summer Bird Count was conducted Saturday, June 18. I’ll provide the results of that count in an upcoming column. 

Culprit emerges in ‘murder mystery’

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Photo by Tom Ferguson/Pixabay • A sharp-shinned hawk perches at the edge of a bird bath. The raptor’s talons, which are on full display, help explain this bird’s efficiency as a predator. 

Darlene Bloomfield emailed me from her home in Parry Sound, Ontario, in Canada. She wanted my help in solving an avian “whodunnit” type of mystery. 

“We had both a robin and a brown thrasher nesting in our cedar hedge,” Darlene wrote in her email.

“Both seemed to have babies,” she added. “The other morning we found a mound of robin feathers on the ground in front of the hedge along with many tiny feathers.”

She also noted that the robins are no longer around.

“Would a thrasher kill a robin?” Darlene asked. “We have seen them chasing each other.”

She also noted that they didn’t find the bodies of the dead robins.

So, in a case perhaps best filed under NCIS Ontario, I looked at the clues and responded.

Robins and thrashers are about the same size and will skirmish if they have to defend their territory, but sadly the evidence points to another culprit.

The little mound of feathers sounds like what a hawk (likely a sharp-shinned hawk or Cooper’s hawk) would leave behind after grabbing a meal in a yard or garden.

The absence of the bodies is also explained. The predatory hawk likely dined on robin and left only the plucked feathers as evidence. 

I expressed sympathy that the incident happened. I’ve been somewhat light-hearted in my relation of the mystery in this column, but it’s important to note that hawks and other predatory creature are not evil. They are not villains. They are doing what they were designed to do. 

The sharp-shinned hawk and its larger relative, the Cooper’s hawk, are classified as accipiter hawks. The sharp-shinned hawk and Cooper’s hawk are the two raptors most often encountered by people who feed birds. Part of the family of Accipiter hawks, these two species are widespread in woodlands.

The Cooper’s hawk is larger, often described as similar in size to an American crow. The Sharp-shinned, on the other hand, is usually described as the size of a dove. There’s some overlap in size, so it is not the only reliable means of identifying these hawks. For example, female Sharp-shinned hawks are roughly equivalent in size to a male Cooper’s hawk. As with many raptors, the female is larger than the male in both these species.

There are some other things to look for in telling these species apart. For instance, adult Sharp-shinned hawks often look like they have a dark cap or hood. The eyes on a sharp-shinned hawk also look like they are halfway between the front and back of the head. In addition, the head itself looks small in comparison to the overall size of this hawk’s body.

These two species feed heavily on songbirds, which causes some bird-lovers distress. I like to view predation incidents as good examples of how the the natural world is good at keeping things balanced. 

The sharp-shinned is really beautiful, especially for a hawk. Preying on songbirds doesn’t make them “bad” birds. They’re extremely efficient predators, and if you’ve ever witnessed one of these raptors in action, you can’t help but be impressed by both the power and precision deployed by these raptors in capturing prey.

The Accipiter genus of hawks includes about 50 species. In Northeast Tennessee, as well as across much of North America, the two common species are sharp-shinned hawk and Cooper’s hawk. A third species, the Northern goshawk, is a rare visitor to the region.

 

The Northern goshawk is a large, powerful hawk, and it is also fiercely defensive of its nest. This hawk is known to attack other raptors, mammals and even humans that stray too close to its nesting site.

Goshawk is a term derived from “goose hawk,” referring to the ability of this bird when utilized in falconry to take down such large prey as geese.

Other Accipiter hawks around the world include spot-tailed sparrowhawk, rufous-chested sparrowhawk, grey-headed goshawk, chestnut-flanked sparrowhawk, semi-collared hawk, red-thighed sparrowhawk and tiny hawk, which is one of the world’s smallest raptors. This diminutive hawk is about the size of a European starling and lives in Central and South America.

The sharp-shinned hawk will feed on a variety of birds, ranging in size from sparrows, warblers and thrushes to birds as large as ruffed grouse and mourning dove. This hawk also feeds on small mammals, reptiles and insects.

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

Sales of local calendar fund bird-worthy aims

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The front cover of the 2022 bird calendar produced by the Elizabethton Bird Club features a photo of a chestnut-sided warbler taken by club member Charles Warden. The calendar is available for purchase for $15, plus $2 for shipping and handling. They make great Christmas gifts for nature and bird enthusiasts. For more information, email ahoodedwarbler@aol.com. 

If you didn’t find all you needed on Black Friday for those on your shopping list, here’s a suggestion. 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 chestnut-sided warbler taken by club member Charles Warden. This is Warden’s first year contributing photographs to the club’s yearly calendar project. More of his photos are on display through the calendar. He is a resident of Johnson City.

“I took the photo on the Spring Bird Count with Fred Alsop and Judi Sawyer on May 1 of this year at Hampton Creek Cove,” Warden said.

He said that the bird was among the blooms of what he thinks was an apple tree.

“We heard the warbler and chased it down,” he said. “It came out in the open and posed nicely for pictures.”

He has been interested in photography since he took a beginning photography class at East Tennessee State University on a lark in 1977.

“I am lucky enough to be making a living as a photographer for ETSU marketing.”

Bird photography is certainly a challenge, he said, and requires much patience, decent equipment and a lot of luck.

“It’s been a learning curve for sure, and it’s still a tough call when to take the binoculars down and put the camera up as it’s so mesmerizing to watch the birds,” Warden said.

The chestnut-sided warbler is a summer resident in the region and can be found at middle and higher elevations on many of the area’s mountains, including Unaka and Roan. Unlike many warblers, both males and females are brightly colored, with the female being slightly less so. Males during the summer nesting season show a yellow crown, black mask, white cheeks, throat and breast and the namesake chestnut flanking on his sides.

He’s also a cheery and persistent singer when he arrives on his nesting territory. His song is usually transcribed as “Pleased, pleased, pleased to meetcha!” For birders, it’s like a welcoming reintroduction each spring when this particular song is heard from the branches of trees in local woodlands.

For the singing male, there’s a more personal reason for singing his song. The “pleased, pleased, pleased to meetcha” refrain is a way of attracting the attention of potential mates. Males sing an entirely different song once settled into nesting activities with a mate. The song used to attract mates is more heavily accented, according to the website, All About Birds. Some males sing only unaccented songs and thus have a lower success rate at attracting mates.

Chestnut-sided warblers are classified by scientists as birds that favor successional habitats for nesting purposes. These sorts of habitats are usually disturbed by human activities such as logging. However, disturbed habitats can be created by natural occurrences, including fires, flooding and storm damage. During the winter months, this warbler withdraws into Central America with many individuals finding suitable habitat on shade-coffee plantations.

Female chestnut-sided warblers will weave a nest of bark, grass and other components all bound together with gathered spider silk. She will lay three to five eggs. These warblers make the most of the summer season, often nesting a second time after raising their first brood.

Chestnut-sided warblers feed largely on insects, but the birds also incorporate seeds and fruits into their diet. Young are fed by both parents on a diet of small insects, spiders and caterpillars. The chestnut-sided warbler’s scientific name, Setophaga pensylvanica, roughly translates as “eater of moths from Pennsylvania,” which is a nod to the bird’s insect-rich diet.

Other warblers that can be found in the mountains of Northeast Tennessee — and in the pages of the calendar — include black-throated blue warbler, golden-winged warbler, worm-eating warbler, hooded warbler, prairie warbler and common yellowthroat.

Like most small songbirds, the New World warblers, to which the chestnut-sided warbler belongs, don’t have long lifespans. A few individuals, however, defy the odds. According to the website, All About Birds, the longest-lived chestnut-sided warbler documented by scientists was a nearly seven-year-old bird banded in Rhode Island in 1980. The bird had been banded in the same state six years and 11 months earlier in 1973.

Of course, with the exception of the yellow-rumped warbler, most of the warblers don’t spend the winter months in the region. With one of these calendars, however, you can enjoy beautiful photos of some of our most lovely warblers while awaiting their return this spring in mid-April and early May.

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 for shipping. All sales help the club fund birding programs, public park feeders, conservation efforts and other activities in upper Northeast Tennessee.

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

 

It all began with a dark-eyed junco

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Photo by Jack Bumer from Pixabay • For many people, the dark-eyed junco is a winter bird, not arriving until the first frost or snowfall of the season. These songbirds typically remain until late spring when they disperse to their nesting grounds.

I wrote my first bird column on Sunday, Nov. 5, 1995, which means this weekly column is marking its 26th anniversary this week.

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

I’ve played detective, helping people identify everything from “rain crows,” or cuckoos, to Muscovy ducks, chukars and double-crested cormorants. I’ve observed unusual birds, including white pelicans, brants and roseate spoonbills, in Northeast Tennessee, Southwest Virginia and Western North Carolina and spotlighted them in these columns. I still take delight in the kaleidoscopic parade of colorful warblers that pass through the region each spring and fall as well as the fast-paced duel of ruby-throated hummingbirds and the occasional rufous hummingbirds straying through the region.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Orders are being accepted for the 2022 bird calendar produced by Elizabethton Bird Club members. Calendars feature bird photographs taken by club members. The calendars sell for $15, plus $2 for postage and handling for those needing a calendar mailed to them. This year’s cover features a beautiful photograph of a chestnut-sided warbler among spring blossoms taken by Charles Warden. Anyone interested in the purchase of a calendar can email Bryan Stevens at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com for more information.

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If you’d like to share your first sighting this season of dark-eyed juncos as the temperatures get colder, 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 26 years. I can also be reached on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler.

 

 

 

Barn owl helps kin earn ghostly reputation

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Photo by Kevinsphotos by Pixabay • A barn owl flies through the darkness without any difficulty whatsoever. Special adaptations make barn owls a silent, highly efficient predator on rodents, some songbirds, and some reptiles and amphibians.

Halloween is drawing closer, and it’s definitely the one night of the year that we become acutely aware of things that go bump in the night.

While goblins and ghouls can be dismissed as mere apparitions of the imagination, some real-life feathered phantoms do roam the darkness, perhaps even in your own backyard. If so, you are more likely to have heard them than to have seen them.

If you do hear anything unusual Halloween night, chances are the sounds may have been produced by an owl.

Several species of owl reside in Northeast Tennessee, including the Eastern screech-owl, the barred owl, the great horned owl and the barn owl. A fifth owl, the tiny Northern saw-whet owl, can be found at some high-elevation locations, including Unaka Mountain in Unicoi County. A few other owls have made sporadic appearances in the region, including long-eared owl, short-eared owl and even snowy owl.

The barn owl is an owl that has adapted its ways to co-exist with humans. Even its common name refers to the fact that these owls will roost and nest in barns and other structures. They are also known to select natural tree cavities, caves and other human structures, including recesses build into sports stadiums and arenas. My most recent sightings of barn owls took place at a grain silo in Sullivan County a few years ago, a large barn located on Antelope Island State Park in Utah in 2006 and under the eaves of the old theatre on the campus of the Mountain Home Veterans Administration near East Tennessee State University back in 2000. These sporadic sightings are testimony to the overall elusive nature of this owl.

I was surprised to learn during my background research that the barn owl is the most widely distributed species of owl as well as one of the most widespread birds on the planet. This owl is also referred to as common barn owl, to distinguish it from other species in the barn-owl family Tytonidae. Owls in this family comprise one of two main lineages of living owls, the other being the typical owls in the Strigidae family. The barn owl, known by the scientific name, Tyto alba, is found almost worldwide except in polar and desert regions, Asia north of the Alpide belt, most of Indonesia, and the Pacific islands.

The genus name for this owl is Tyto, a variation of the ancient Greek word, “tutō,” which meant “owl.” The barn owl family, Tytonidae, consists of true barn owls, as well as grass owls and masked owls.

All owls are carnivores, but the barn owl specializes on rodents more than many of its kin. However, this owl will also eat other birds and insects.

Because of their pale plumage and nocturnal habits, barn owls have been saddled with such common names as demon owl, death owl, night owl and ghost owl.

Other common names include rat owl, inspired by one of its major prey items, and barnyard owl and church owl, which are two haunts where these owls often roost or perch. I also liked the name scritch owl and hissing owl, which were acquired because of vocalizations from this bird.

Barn owls have several adaptations that allow them to hunt in complete darkness. These owls have excellent hearing, allowing them to pinpoint prey even when the absence of light renders vision useless. The characteristic facial disc of the barn owl helps channel sounds toward the bird’s ears.

Even the feathers of owls have adapted to the need to stalk wary prey without revealing their presence. Specialized feathers permit owls to fly almost silently. Their feathers absorb flight noises and even alter air turbulence to keep the flight smooth and quiet. Most prey never suspect the owl’s approach until it’s far too late.

For the average person the term “owl” is representative of what is actually an extremely diverse family of birds. Worldwide, there are about 220 species of owls varying in size and habits.

Humans have come up with some descriptive names for various owls around the world. A sampling of these names includes fearful owl, pharaoh eagle-owl, collared owlet, pearl-spotted owlet, least pygmy-owl, red-chested owlet, buff-fronted owl, Stygian owl, vermiculated fishing-owl, black-and-white owl, bare-legged owl, maned owl, bearded screech-owl, spectacled owl and golden-masked owl.

Owls, according to Linda Spencer, author of “Knock on Wood: A Serendipitous Selection of Superstitions,” have inspired a mixed bag of superstitions ever since humans stood up. Owls have long been associated with the forces of both good and evil. The “hoot” or call of an owl is believed by people of many cultures to foretell death. There are some interesting ways to counter the ominous hoot of an owl, according to Spencer. Means of warding off the evil owl power include putting irons back in the fire, throwing salt, pepper and vinegar on the fire, tying a knot or taking one’s clothes off, turning them inside out and putting them back on.

According to Laura Martin, author of “The Folklore of Birds,” one of the earliest human drawings depicting owls dates back to the early Paleolithic period. The scene is of a family of snowy owls painted on a cave wall in France.

Owls have also entered the culture as symbols of wisdom and goodness. The wise old owl, Martin writes, dates back to the time of King Arthur. The sorcerer Merlin was always shown with an owl on his shoulder. During the Middle Ages owls became symbols of learning and intelligence. The Greeks didn’t fear owls as did the Romans. In fact, the owl was the sacred mascot of the Greek goddess Athena.

There’s one more owl-related myth I forgot to mention. There is a Chinese belief that owls snatch the souls of unwary people — just something you should know if you are out and about after dark on Halloween night.

Photo by skitter photos/Pixabay • Look for owls on Halloween and every other dark night.