Tag Archives: North Carolina

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.

 

Hollywood, not nature, casts feathered friends in villainous light

Willgard Krause from Pixabay

NOTE: This is a revised version of a column that originally ran in November of 2018.

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

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

Pixabay Great tits have been documented hunting, killing and then eating the brains of small bats.

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

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

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

Photo by lailajuliana / Pixabay.com • The southern cassowary reaches a height of more than five feet and weighs 120 pounds. The bird has a fearsome but perhaps undeserved reputation for attacks on humans.

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

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

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

An illustration of Gastornis (Terror Bird) on a river’s edge. Gastornis are an extinct genus of large flightless birds that lived during the late Paleocene and Eocene epochs of the Cenozoic era. They grew to a height of 6.6 feet.

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

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

Regardless, the casting of birds as film villains had already been done back in 1963 when Alfred Hitchcock released his film, “The Birds,” based loosely on a short story by Daphne du Maurier. The film, which starred some big Hollywood names such as Rod Taylor, Tippi Hedren, Jessica Tandy, Suzanne Pleshette and Veronica Cartwright, cast a whole new light on a “murder” of crows. Today, the film has achieved the status of a Hollywood classic.

There’s also the tale of the ancient Greek playwright Aeschylus, who died around 456 BC in Sicily, possibly the only known victim of a bird dropping a heavy weight on a human being. According to ancient accounts mentioned by Pliny the Elder in his “Natural History,” Aeschylus was said to have been killed by a tortoise dropped by an eagle after the bird mistook the playwright’s bald head for a stone it could use to crack open the tortoise’s shell. However, this intriguing tale is, alas, likely only a myth. Most scholars have dismissed the account as an embellished, apocryphal story.

I guess we will have to look to Hollywood’s werewolves, zombies and other supernatural monsters for our Halloween chills and thrills instead of our fine feathered friends.

Photo by cocoparisienne/Pixabay.com • A crow lands on a spooky scarecrow at sunset.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The list:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why do owls give a hoot? For many reasons

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.

Hummingbirds, other summer birds get ready to depart

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

I always feel some reluctance and regret when I turn the calendar page from August to September.

I don’t have anything against fall – it’s my favorite season. But I know that our ruby-throated hummingbirds, which returned only five months ago in early April, will soon be departing.

It won’t be only the hummingbirds. Warblers, orioles, tanagers and other migrants will also fly south to spend the winter season somewhere more hospitable.

Most of the hummingbirds that visited our gardens over the summer are getting ready to migrate back to their winter homes in Central America.

I’m seeing only a few adult male hummingbirds with the namesake red throat. They are outnumbered by females and young hummingbirds that hatched in late spring and throughout the summer. It’s fun to watch young hummingbirds. They often have something to prove. In many ways, they’re even more feisty than adult birds.

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

In any given year, the numbers of hummingbirds passing thorough is going to fluctuate. Some years, these tiny flying gems will be present in good numbers on an almost daily basis. Other years, hummingbirds can become quite scarce.

I usually enjoy my best hummingbird numbers in the fall as these little birds begin their leisurely journey back south. Late August and the month of September is usually a great time to watch hummingbirds.

During August, the feeders at my home and my mother’s home saw a great deal of activity. Blooms of wildflowers and cultivated flowers also attracted them. Earlier in the summer the hummingbirds went gaga for the crocosmia blooms and the flowering bee balm. For the past month, the tube-shaped flowers of orange jewelweed has kept them coming back for more.

The New World is home to about 360 species of hummingbirds. We’ve expended many adjectives in finding names of them all. 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.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A ruby-throated hummingbird sips from a sugar water feeder.

Other names are even more elaborate and occasionally outlandish, such as the white-tufted sunbeam of Peru; the violet-throated metaltail of Ecuador; the violet-throated starfrontlet of Peru and Bolivia; the hyacinth visorbearer of Brazil; and the rainbow-bearded thornbill of Colombia and Ecuador.

As for our own ruby-throated hummingbirds, wish them well as they begin that long trek back to their wintering grounds. For the young birds, this will be their first epic crossing of the Gulf of Mexico, something the species must do twice a year to get to and from their summer home in eastern North America.

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Bryan Stevens has written about birds, birding and birders since 1995.

Diminutive green heron flies beneath the radar but is not uncommon

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A green heron captures a tadpole at a pond’s edge.

Retrieving the mail from my mailbox requires a slight trek, but there’s always something to see in the few minutes it takes to complete this task six out of seven days every week.

On a recent stroll to fetch the mail I startled a green heron from the vegetation surrounding the fish pond. The heron made a startled cry and flew to a horizontal branch in a tree adjacent to the pond.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen this small wading bird up close that I’d forgotten its diminutive nature. Although the official name is green heron, I’ve almost always referred to this species as “little green heron” or simply “little green.” It’s not completely uncalled for. After all, there’s a little blue heron. As far as my research tells me, however, there is no great green heron.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Upcoming programs in the region will focus on topics such as songbirds, raptors and the basics of beginning birdwatching. Plan to attend one or more of the programs to learn more about birds, such as this green heron.

Green herons are not restricted to coastal areas, but it was still somewhat unexpected. I’m hoping I didn’t frighten the bird too badly and it will continue to haunt the edges of the fish pond. The vegetation around the pond makes it easy for this heron to conceal itself. The pond is also a great place for the heron to forage. There’s an abundance of some of its favorite prey, including tadpoles and dragonflies.

Green herons and other wading birds are usually quite abundant in wetlands across the country in late summer. The scientific name — Butorides virescens – of this bird comes from a mix of Middle English and Ancient Greek and roughly translates as “greenish bittern.”

There are only two other species in the genus Butorides — the lava heron, which occurs on some of the Galapagos Islands of Ecuador, and the striated heron, which is found in wetlands throughout the Old World tropics from West Africa to Japan and Australia. This heron, which is also known as the mangrove heron, also occurs in South America.

The green in the bird’s plumage appears as a dark green cap, as well as a greenish back and wings. Adult birds also have chestnut-colored neck feathers and a line of white feathers along the throat and belly. These herons often assume a hunched position, making them look smaller than they actually are.

It’s been a good summer for wading birds. In addition to the green heron, a great blue heron has been lurking in the creekand at the fish pond. Much larger than the green heron, it’s not as easy for the great blue heron to escape notice.

Other locations to look for both these herons are at the pond at Erwin Fishery Park. You’ll also want to keep alert when walking along the linear trail in Erwin. This is the time of year when interesting herons or egrets are not all that scarce.

Farm ponds in the countryside around Jonesborough, as well as wetland habitat around the town’s Persimmon Ridge Park, are also good places to look for green herons. The wetlands at Sugar Hollow Park in Bristol, Virginia, is another dependable location for seeing this small heron. Most green herons will depart in late September and early October. This small heron retreats from the United States during the winter season but returns each spring in April and May.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A green heron finesses a captured tadpole in its bill.

The green heron’s range during the nesting season includes Canada and much of the United States. Green herons will sometimes form loose nesting colonies, but at other times a pair will choose a secluded location as a nest site. The female will usually lay from three to five eggs. Snakes, raccoons and other birds such as crows and grackles are potential threats to eggs.

For the most part, the population migrates to Central and South America for the winter months. A few herons — great blue heron and black-crowned night heron — remain in the region throughout the year, even enduring the cold winter months in Northeast Tennessee, Southwest Virginia and Western North Carolina.

Green herons are probably more common than we realize. They are skilled at blending with their surroundings, but sharp eyes can find these herons around almost any body of water, whether it is pond, marsh, river, creek or lake.

Keep looking for green herons and their larger kin for the next few months. To share a sighting, ask a question or make a comment, send me an email at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

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Bryan Stevens is the managing editor of The Erwin Record. He has written about birds, birding and birders since 1995.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A green heron hunches next to a pond.

 

Looking for fall migrating birds already underway

A male Wilson’s warbler perches in some branches. Many species of warbler migrate through the region each fall.

Summer’s waning. Just look at the calendar. We’re already approaching the midway point in August.

Birders track the transitions as one season merges into another, knowing that these are some of the best times to seek out birds. Fall migration doesn’t wait for a page to turn on a calendar. In fact, some birds are already on the move. I thought I’d devote this week’s column to some of the birds I hope to observe this fall as a mass migration draws many of our summer residents south toward warmer wintering grounds. In no particular order, here are some of the birds I’m hoping to see this autumn.

COMMON NIGHTHAWKS

The name common nighthawk is a misnomer. The species is not strictly nocturnal and it is certainly not a hawk. It’s actually a member of the nightjar family, which includes such birds as chuck-will’s-widow and whip-poor-will. The nighthawk doesn’t offer a serenade like these relatives, but it does produce a “pent” call that sounds much like an electric buzzer. It’s often the first indication of one of these birds swooping overhead. Nighthawks form impressive flocks, often numbering in the dozens or even hundreds. They are often active in evening hours, but I’ve seen large flocks of these migrating birds in mid-afternoon. August and September are the best time to look skyward to enjoy the spectacle of a large flock of swooping nighthawks as they pass overhead.

Photo by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service
A Common Nighthawk finds a perch for a brief rest.

 

I didn’t host any of these colorful birds this spring, so I hope to get another opportunity this fall. The males in their vibrant black-and-white plumage and namesake breast patch of rosy-red feathers are slightly less colorful in the fall. I’ve actually had better luck in autumn hosting these birds at feeders. They love sunflower seeds, so keep your feeders stocked with their favorite foods to increase your chances. Females and young birds look different than adult males, but the heavy beak (the word “gros” is German for large) is a good indicator of their identity. Bird banders netting this species to document information for science can testify that these birds are also capable of a nasty nip at careless fingers with that stout bill.

Bryan Stevens • A pine warbler visits a suet feeder.

WARBLERS

These birds are undeniably at their most gorgeous during spring migration, but many species of warbler retain colorful plumage into the fall season. Young birds, often in a plumage entirely different than adult birds, are responsible for the term “confusing fall warblers.” I’ll be looking for the species that are harder to locate in the spring, including bay-breasted warbler, Cape May warbler, Blackburnian warbler and Tennessee warbler. I’ll also be hoping for a rarity such as cerulean warbler or mourning warbler. I will be sad when the parade of warblers produces a palm warbler or a yellow-romped warbler. These last two species are a sure sign that fall migration’s coming to a close for another season.

Photo by Bryan Stevens
A Great Egret resting on a spit of land in a lake at Murphy Candler Park in Brookhaven, Ga.

WADING BIRDS

Late summer and early fall can also be a fantastic time for scanning rivers, lakes and farm ponds for wading birds. Hurricanes in recent years have even forcibly relocated American flamingos to Tennessee and other unlikely locations. It’s slightly more reasonable to hope for something unexpected like a wood stork or roseate spoonbill. The more likely candidates for observing in the region are great egrets, tri-colored herons and snowy egrets. It’s also a last chance to view green herons before this small species retreats to warmer locations for the coming winter.

Bryan Stevens • A hermit thrush perches on a fence.

THRUSHES

These medium-sized songbirds are typically brown in plumage, often with spotted white breasts. They’re beautiful singers in spring and summer, but they’ve often cut back on their singing by fall. Nevertheless, they form large migrating flocks that will roam autumn woodlands to rest and refuel during short breaks from migrating. Swainson’s thrush is not difficult to find in the fall. This species is named in honor of 19th century artist and ornithologist William Swainson. Like most birders, I will be hoping for the more difficult species like Bicknell’s thrush and gray-cheeked thrush. Knowing their call notes can help alert you to their presence.

There will be a dazzling diversity of our feathered friends on the move this month. The seasonal phenomenon of migration extends into September and October. Pay attention to the visitors in your yards and gardens.

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Share sightings, ask questions or make comments by emailing me at ahoodedwarbler @aol.com.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • This migrating rose-breasted grosbeaks struck a window and spent some time recovering. Later, the bird flew safely back to a row of trees.