Tag Archives: Fall migration

Celebrating 30 years of birds, birding and birders

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.

 

Why do owls give a hoot? For many reasons

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.

Local couple comes to aid of injured hummingbird

Rex and Linda Mathes • Linda and Rex Mathes came to the aid of this injured hummingbird. Most ruby-throated hummingbirds, like other migratory birds, face many perils and obstacles during their migrations.

Erwin resident Linda Mathes emailed me recently to inquire about wildlife rehabilitators who might be able to help an injured ruby-throated hummingbird.

“We found a hummingbird in the backyard yesterday, alive, so brought into house and put in box,” Linda wrote. “We think its wing is damaged.”

Linda noted that she and her husband, Rex, also brought the hummingbird feeder inside.

“My husband picks it up and holds it up to feeder and it drinks,” Linda explained. “He does this several times a day.”

She added that the hummingbird regained enough strength to also sit on Rex’s finger.

“We were worried the bird would not have any nectar during the night,” she added.

The next morning, the bird still seemed fine other than for the injured wing.

“He is very perky,” Linda note. “He/she is a real fighter.”

I provided Linda with some suggestions on wildlife rehabilitaters, but she found one on her own with the help of a friend. Rex and Linda made a trip on Monday, Sept. 29, to deliver the hummingbird into the care of a licensed wildlife rehabilitation professional.

Bryan Stevens • Ruby-throated hummingbirds have usually departed from the region by early October.

“They gave me a patient number so I could call about the bird.”

When she called on the morning of Tuesday, Sept 30, she got a detailed report.

The vet had prescribed muscle relaxers for the hummingbird,” Linda said. “Her condition was listed as guarded but at least she might have a chance.”

As they were leaving the facility, someone brought in an injured chipmunk.

Linda added that there was no charge for caring for the bird but she planned to send a small donation.

I’m hopeful for the hummingbird’s recovery. Over the years, I’ve encountered several injured birds. Several of the birds stunned themselves after impacts with windows, an all-too-common hazard. Rose-breasted grosbeak and Swainson’s thrush have been among some of these. Most of the birds have recovered after a brief rest period in a shoe box covered with a towel. It’s always a relief when they can fly off under their own power.

Migration can be hazardous and arduous for our feathered friends. Birds face various hazards, including collisions with human-made structures like buildings and power lines, habitat loss and degradation, storms, disorienting light pollution and predation from other animals.

They also need to refuel to keep up their strength, and the lack of food along a migration route can deal the chances of their success a serious blow.

Even birds that cannot fly undertake migrations. For instance, flightless penguins swim hundreds or thousands of miles to reach preferred ranges for feeding or nesting. The Australian emu, a smaller relative of the ostrich, makes seasonal migrations on foot to ensure access to abundant food supplies at all seasons.

Ruby-throated hummingbirds make an awe-inspiring and non-stop crossing of the Gulf of Mexico every fall to reach their wintering grounds. Their flight across the waters of the Gulf can take these tiny birds 18 to 22 hours. Even more incredible, they make the trip in reverse in the spring when they return to their nesting grounds across the Eastern United States.

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

Ruby-throated hummingbirds lead relatively brief lives, which is understandable considering the perils they face and the incredible migrations they stage twice each year. The oldest known ruby-throated hummingbird was a female, according to the website All About Birds. She was at least 9 years, 2 months old when she was recaptured and rereleased in 2014 during banding operations in West Virginia.

The New World is home to about 360 species of hummingbirds. We’ve expended a lot of energy finding adjectives to provide names for all these hummingbirds. Sometimes, words fail. Mere adjectives are somewhat inadequate in providing common names for many of the world’s more hummingbirds, but that doesn’t keep us from trying to give descriptive names to each hummingbird species. For instance, we have the beautiful hummingbird of Mexico; the charming hummingbird of Costa Rica and Panama; the festive coquette of northwestern South America; and the magnificent hummingbird of the southwestern United States.

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

Broad-winged hawk is region’s migratory raptor

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

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

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.

Gray catbird’s personality veers from shyness to curiosity

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A gray catbird perches in a mimosa tree. These birds alternate between extreme shyness and determined curiosity.

Catbirds are experts at concealing themselves from prying eyes. This birds charcoal gray plumage blends into the shadowy sections of tangles and thickets where the bird likes to hide itself.

However, even when gray catbirds are reluctant to be seen, they’re almost eager to be heard. The catbird is extremely vocal with several calls and songs in its repertoire, including the rather faithful rendering of a fussy cat’s meow that provides this bird its common name.

This is also a bird with strong curiosity. Despite its retiring nature, curiosity often wins out, as demonstrated when I had a front porch “conversation” with a catbird on a recent morning.

The named catbird came from the fact that this mimic, related to mockingbirds and thrashers, has an uncanny vocalisation that sounds just like a cat’s meow.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A gray catbird emerged from cover long enough to have its photo taken.

I’m not particularly good at bird imitations. I can do a decent imitation of Eastern screech owls. I’ve even succeeded at getting these small owls to call back, and I’ve incited a mob of small songbirds, convinced that a “real” owl has gotten far too close for comfort.

And I can also do a passable imitation of the catbirds “meow” vocalization, which I proceeded to spontaneously do as I stood on my front porch on a cool early September morning listening to a gray catbird hidden in the dense foliage of a blooming althea, also known as a “rose of Sharon.”

Every time the catbird meowed, I meowed back. The intervals sped up. Within a short time, the bird popped into view, the better to get a look at me. That’s when something remarkable happened. Clearly still in the bird’s view, I called back. The bird called and continued to stare at me, albeit nervously, from its perch. We continued to converse, although I’m not really sure what we were discussing. I claim to be able to imitate the bird’s language, not understand it. Despite what must have been a strong urge to dive back into cover, the bird continued to remain in the open and meow back every time I returned its meow with one of my own.

Only when I moved to go back inside did the bird plunge back into dense cover. Even as I stepped back inside the house, the catbird continued to meow.

This species is part of a family related to thrushes that are known as “mimic thrushes.” Besides its surprisingly accurate rendition of a feline, the catbird has several other common vocalizations. Despite a shy nature, they’re extremely curious. Imitating their calls or simply producing a squeaky sound will usually persuade the bird to move out of cover and search for the source of the noise.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The gray catbird resides in Northeast Tennessee April through October, although there are a few winter records for the species. Most depart in fall, choosing to spend the winter months in more hospitable locations.

Catbirds are part of the parade of the departing birds like rose-breasted grosbeaks, scarlet tanagers, Baltimore orioles and indigo buntings that will soon wing their way south for the winter.

Because they lack the brilliant plumages of some of these other summer visitors, catbirds could often go unnoticed if not for the fact they are extremely noisy.

Although the catbird is related to thrashers and mockingbirds, scientists find them just different enough to warrant placing the gray catbird in its own genus. A relative known as the black catbird, which ranges throughout the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico as well as northern Guatemala and northern Belize, also belongs to a genus of its own. Both catbirds are classified as “mimic thrushes,” or Mimidae, of which there are about 30 species in the New World. There is also a totally unrelated family of catbirds that ranges through Australia, Asia and parts of Africa. Some of these birds include the ochre-breasted catbird, tooth-billed catbird and spotted catbird.

The gray catbird is not as an accomplished mimic as some of its relatives, such as the Northern mockingbird. Nevertheless, experts have documented that the gray catbird can produce more than 100 different sounds. Males have motivation to constantly expand their repertoire, however, as doing so increases the likelihood of attracting a mate. They imitate other birds, but some have been recorded imitating frogs and other non-avian singers.

Photo by Bryan Stevens A curious Gray Catbird peeks from dense cover. Attendees at the fall rally can look for catbirds and other species at any of the offered bird hikes.

While not generally considered a bird to visit feeders, people have succeeded in attracting catbirds to feeders designed to offer grape jelly or orange slices. Planting fruit-bearing shrubs and trees is the best means of attracting these fascinating birds to your yard and garden. It’s also best not to clear away brush and tangles from your yard if you wish to attract catbirds. These are shy birds and will avoid areas that are too open and brightly lit.

An occasional catbird lingers in the region into the winter season, but most head out for more comfortable climates by the end of October. Enjoy this entertaining bird while you can but know they’ll return without fail next spring in April and May.

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

Birds boast phenomenal knack for long-distance travel

Hans Toom/Pixabay • The blackpoll warbler has one of the more difficult and lengthy migrations of the family of warblers.

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.

Of course, I spent most of my birding within Tennessee, particularly in the Northeast Tennessee region. Since the Volunteer State has no access to the sea, it is sometimes amazing how many birds affiliated with coastal areas can be found if you know when and where to look. Fall’s a good time to scan lakeshores, river banks and the edges of farm ponds for migrating shorebirds and wading birds.

I discussed last week some of the species I hope to see this fall. Every time I see some of these migrants I am impressed by what a phenomenal feat each and every single one of these birds represents. As my mother is fond of asking: “How do they do it?”

For such relatively small creatures, many if our birds are world-class travelers. Here are a few profiles of some of these incredible migrants.

Photo by U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service/Kirk Rogers • The Arctic tern is a world champion among migrating birds.

 

One good tern deserves another

The Arctic tern, for example, 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. According to the website for National Geographic, Arctic terns face a serious threat from climate change. In a profile on the tern at its website, National Geographic warns that Arctic terns are projected to lose 20 to 50 percent of their habitat due to the temperature changes linked to climate change. They also face loss of habitat due to encroachment by human activities such as oil drilling.

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

Size matters less than we think

The ruby-throated hummingbird makes an impressive migration each year. It’s even more awesome when one considers the diminutive size of these small travelers. 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 U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service/Steve Maslowski The bar-tailed godwit stages migrations that can take nine days of non-stop flight spanning nearly 6,000 miles.

 

Godwits, by Jove!

Shorebirds, which in North America can consist of birds ranging from turnstones and sandpipers to willets and avocets, are champion migrants. For instance, the bar-tailed godwit makes an impressive non-stop migratory flight. This shorebird nests in the United States only in parts of remote Alaska, but this godwit also ranges into Scandinavia and northern Asia. Some of these godwits make a nine-day, non-stop migratory flight that takes them from New Zealand to the Yellow Sea of China and beyond, a distance of almost 6,000 miles each way. Needless to say, since the godwits make no stops along the way, they must also go without food for the duration of their journey. The female godwit is larger than the male, but she still weighs only 12 ounces. The long-billed, long-legged bird is about 17 inches in length from the tip of the bill to its tail. That a creature so small can make such a distant, arduous trip and be the none the worse for wear is truly inspiring.

Bryan Stevens • A broad-winged hawk perches in a woodland in the Southern Appalachians.

A fine kettle of hawks

Many North American raptors migrate, but the broad-winged hawk dislikes the lonely aspects of solitary travel. Instead, these hawks form large flocks, known as kettles, during migration. In autumn the majority of these raptors travel past human-staffed hawk migration observation points, which are dubbed “hawk watches,” during a brief and concentrated period of only a few weeks. Observing the phenomenon locally is possible at the Mendota Fire Tower Hawk Watch site atop Clinch Mountain at an abandoned fire tower near Mendota, Virginia. Broad-winged hawks are part of the family Accipitridae, which includes 224 species of hawks, eagles, vultures and other birds of prey. Broad-winged hawks are truly long-distance migrants. Many hawks passing over Mendota may end their migration as far south as Brazil. These hawks travel in flocks that can consist of hundreds or thousands of individuals. The birds conserve energy by soaring on thermals and mountain updrafts.

Jean Potter • Warblers, such as this male black-throated blue warbler, migrate into North America each spring to nest and retreat each fall for conditions farther south during the winter.

Traveling in stages

Most of the warblers that nest in North America retreat to Central and South America during the winter months. Few warblers, however, 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 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.

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

Birds share fall skies with migrating butterflies, dragonflies

During a stop at the Unicoi Walmart to visit the pharmacy on Wednesday, Sept. 3, I spied an energetic fluttering of wings in the garden center. Although I’ve spied various birds, including Carolina wrens and house sparrows, making themselves at home in this garden center, this winged creature was quite a bit smaller.

I watched the butterfly flit from marigold to zinnia to fall mums, feasting on the nectar the blooms provided. A closer look revealed the butterfly’s identity as a long-tailed skipper, a species more likely found in South Carolina, Georgia and Florida than Northeast Tennessee.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A long-tailed skipper sips nectar from a marigold at the garden center at the Unicoi Walmart.

According to Wikipedia, the long-tailed skipper is a spread-winged skipper butterfly found throughout tropical and subtropical South America, south to Argentina and north into the eastern United States and southern Ontario. It cannot live in areas with prolonged frost. I have seen lots of them in South Carolina and Georgia; this is my second sighting of one in Northeast Tennessee. I found the first one in a garden in Elizabethton near the Covered Bridge.

The sighting reminded me that it’s not only birds using the skies for migration as we advance toward the autumn season. I also remembered a question I got from a reader back in 2014. Rhonda Eller of Chilhowie, Virginia, posted a question on my Facebook page about some dragonflies that appeared in her yard on Sept. 10.

“We have had a sudden breakout of dragonflies in our yard,” Rhonda explained. “We seldom see more than one or two at a time.”

Rhonda wondered if the dragonflies might have been drawn to her yard in pursuit of some sort of favorite insect prey. She also speculated that the recent dry conditions might have attracted the dragonflies.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The wandering glider is a migratory species of dragonfly.

I responded at the time to her query by explaining that birds share the skies at this time of year with many other migrants. Some dragonflies, just like birds, migrate. A species known as green darner is one that migrates. These darners are rather large, for a dragonfly, and travel in swarms. A couple of years ago I observed thousands of these dragonflies swarming over a municipal swimming pool and a nearby fish pond at Erwin Fishery Park.

The WSLS Channel 10 television station out of Roanoke, Virginia, reported on swarms of dragonflies so large that they got picked up by local radar. Rhonda shared a link to the station’s story on my Facebook page.

Of course, swarms of migrating insects are bound to get the attention of predatory birds. The same day that Rhonda experienced the influx of migrating dragonflies, I witnessed dozens of common nighthawks and chimney swifts swooping through the skies over my home. With a little more attention to detail, I also noticed the dragonflies sharing the skies with these birds.

I suspect that the nighthawks were feeding on the large darners while the swifts, which are much smaller birds, focused their foraging efforts on smaller winged insects. Tom McNeil, a neighbor and fellow member of the Elizabethton Bird Club, reported seeing nighthawks and swifts, too. Tom lives on the other side of a mountain ridge that separates our homes.

Tim Morris, a Facebook friend from Australia, noted in a comment on my post about the nighthawks that his country is home to a bird known as the tawny frogmouth, a relative of the common nighthawk. Tim noted that frogmouths are big birds with camouflage markings that allow them to pretend to be dead tree boughs by day. “They feed not only on insects but mice and lizards, too,” he added.

Evidence of fall migration continued the next day when I detected a small wave of warblers foraging in trees at the edge of my yard. I saw five different species — American redstart, worm-eating warbler, Cape May warbler, Blackburnian warbler and Tennessee warbler — in the space of half an hour. Of the warblers in the flock, the Blackburnian and Cape May are some of the more vibrant ones.

So far in 2024, warblers have absented themselves from my yard this fall. It’s started to aggravate me, but I’ll try to be patient.

The Blackburnian warbler’s common name commemorates Anna Blackburne, an English naturalist who lived from 1726 to 1793. Her brother, Ashton, had immigrated to the United States, which made it possible for him to send his sister many specimens, especially birds. Their father, a salt merchant by trade, was also a well-respected amateur naturalist. In addition to the warbler that bears her name, Anna Blackburne also had a species of beetle named in her honor.

Both the Cape May and Tennessee warblers are named for the locations from which they were first collected. Neither of these small songbirds are closely affiliated with Cape May, New Jersey, or the Volunteer State. The Cape May warbler is also known as the “tiger warbler” for the dramatic black striping across its bright yellow breast. A green back and chestnut cheek patch make the Cape May warbler quite unlike any of its close kin. Even its former scientific name — Setophaga tigrina — paid homage to the striped big cat. The term “setophaga” translates to “moth eater” and is a reference to this warbler’s intense fondness for the caterpillars known as spruce budworms that occasionally produce outbreaks in the northern spruce forests that serve as the nesting range for the Cape May warbler.

According to the website, “All About Birds,” Cape May warblers have unusually shaped tongues that allow them to sip nectar from tropical flowers during the winter months spent in Central America and the Caribbean. Their unique tongues also make it possible for them to enjoy sips of sugar water from hummingbird feeders.

Whether its dragonflies, nighthawks, warblers, hummingbirds or a long-tailed skipper in a Walmart garden center, plenty of birds and other flying creatures will be moving through the region for the next few weeks. Now’s the time to get outdoors and look for some of these migrants.

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Bryan Stevens has been birding actively for about 30 years. He has written a weekly column on birds and birding since 1995. To ask a question, make a comment or share a sighting, email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

September brings spike in bird migration

Hans Toom/Pixabay • Few warblers make as great a journey as the blackpoll warbler. This small songbird makes a roundtrip flight of 12,400 miles for its seasonal migrations each 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.

Every morning as I leave for work I hear the buzz of hummingbird wings. When I return in the evening, I am often greeted by 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.

Photo by Jonathan Cannon/Pixabay.com • The Arctic tern outdoes all other birds when it comes to migration. These seabirds journey from their Arctic nesting grounds to spend the winter around the Antarctic, a journey of some 50,000 miles a year.

The Arctic tern, for example, 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.

According to the website for National Geographic, Arctic terns face a serious threat from climate change. In a profile on the tern at its website, National Geographic warns that Arctic terns are projected to lose 20 to 50 percent of their habitat due to the temperature changes linked to climate change. They also face loss of habitat due to encroachment by human activities such as oil drilling.

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.

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.

The hooded warbler, my favorite member of the migratory New World warblers, migrates back to Mexico and Central America for the winter months after nesting during the spring and summer in a range concentrated in the southeastern United States. The males, after going quiet in late summer, have started singing on occasion from the shaded woods around my house. I think this has more to do with restlessness as they prepare for to depart on a migration flight that will take them to the balmy Caribbean, Mexico and Central America while we shiver through the months between October and April. It’s not a migration of an incredible distance, but it’s still quite an accomplishment for a bird only five inches long and weighing less than half an ounce.

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.

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