Tag Archives: Tennessee

Phoebe’s return a signal other arrivals due soon

An Eastern phoebe has returned to the woodlands around my home.

I’m not sure when the resident phoebes departed last fall. They were still prominent in their daily activities in late October and early November. I think they probably slipped off, unnoticed, around Thanksgiving. Some winters, a few Eastern phoebes linger throughout the cold months, often near an open source of water that’s unlikely to freeze.

With the arrival of March and warmer weather, at least one Eastern phoebe, a male, is back and singing tirelessly every morning. The song is easy to memorise. The singing bird simply repeats its name — fee bee, fee bee — in scratchy, descending sets of tones.

Considering the bright finery worn by some of the more colorful spring arrivals, Eastern phoebes are comparatively drab. The gray and white plumage of this species of flycatcher pales in comparison with vibrant birds like rose-breasted grosbeak, ruby-throated hummingbird, scarlet tanager and yellow warbler.

Nevertheless, this member of the flycatcher clan has earned itself a favorite spot in the hearts of many a birdwatcher. It’s one of those birds that even beginning birders find surprisingly easy to recognize and identify. While it may not have a dramatic plumage pattern to hint at its identity, the Eastern phoebe is quite at home around human dwellings and comes into close contact with people going about their daily routines. Rather tame — or at least not too bothered by close proximity with humans — the Eastern phoebe has one behavior that sets it apart from all the other similar flycatchers. When this bird lands on a perch, it cannot resist a vigorous bobbing of its tail. Every time that a phoebe lands on a perch, it will produce this easily recognized tail wag. It’s this tell-tale action that makes this bird almost instantly recognizable among birders with the knowledge of this behavioral trait.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A young Eastern Phoebe perches in the shelter of some branches.

The Eastern phoebe, known by the scientific name of Sayornis phoebe, has two relatives in the genus Sayornis. The genus is named after Thomas Say, an American naturalist. The Eastern phoebe’s close relatives include the black phoebe and Say’s phoebe. The black phoebe ranges throughout Oregon, Washington and California and as far south as Central and South America. As its name suggests, this bird has mostly black feathers instead of the gray plumage of its relatives. The Say’s phoebe, also named for the man who gave the genus its name, is the western counterpart to the Eastern phoebe.

Since they belong to the vast family of New World flycatchers, it’s probably no surprise that these phoebes feed largely on insects. That’s why phoebes overwintering in the region are always found near water. The open water also attracts flying insects. The birds will often perch patiently until an insect’s flight brings it within easy range. A quick flight from its perch usually allows the skillful bird to return with a morsel snatched on the wing. In the winter months, however, the Eastern phoebe also eats berries and other small fruit when insect scarcity makes this exclusive diet almost impossible.

Phoebes are fond of nesting on human structures, including culverts, bridges and houses. With the latter, they were once known for their habit of placing their nests under sheltering eaves. At my home, a pair of Eastern phoebes often chooses to nest on the wooden rafters in my family’s garage. Phoebes also like to reside near a water source, such as a creek, stream or pond.

Although the species is migratory, a few hardy individuals will usually try to tough out winters in the region. The others that depart in the autumn will migrate to the southern United States and as far south as Central America. On some rare occasions, Eastern phoebes have flown far off their usual course and ended up in western Europe. I can usually count on Eastern phoebes returning to my home in early March, making them one of the first migrants to return each year.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • An Eastern Phoebe perches in a mimosa tree.

This year, like the dependability of clockwork, I began hearing that easily recognized song on mornings during the first days of March when I walked to my car to depart for work. It’s due to their noisy nature that their arrival rarely goes unnoticed. Males tend to start singing persistently as soon as they arrive. I doubt it will take the male residing near my home long to attract a mate.

John James Audubon, an early naturalist and famed painter of North America’s birds, conducted an experiment with some young phoebes. His simple test represents the first-ever bird banding in the United States of America. His novel experiment, which he carried out in 1803, involved tying some silver thread to the legs of the phoebes he captured near his home in Pennsylvania. He wanted to answer a question he had about whether birds are faithful to home locations from year to year. The following year Audubon again captured two phoebes and found the silver thread had remained attached to their legs. Today ornithologists still conduct bird banding to gather information on birds and the mystery of their migrations.

So, that pair of phoebes that returned to your backyard this spring — they just might be the same ones that have spent past summer seasons providing you with an enlightening glimpse into their lives.

Over the past few years, I’ve had a pair of Eastern phoebes nest on the blades of a ceiling fan on my front porch. Other past nesting locations have included the rafters in my garage. If a pair happens to take up residence on your own front porch or in your garage, I hope you’ll welcome them. The pleasure of observing them raising their family will more than compensate for a slight mess and a few weeks of inconvenience.

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To learn more about birds and other topics from the natural world, friend Bryan Stevens on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler. He is always posting about local birds, wildlife, flowers, insects and much more. If you have a question, wish to make a comment or share a sighting, email ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Red-bellied woodpeckers, other birds raise their profile during recent snowstorm

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A red-bellied woodpecker makes a tentative approach to a feeder stocked with sunflower seeds. Red-bellied woodpeckers are fairly common in the region.

I’m sure many share my sentiment that with February almost in the rear-view mirror it could be hoped that winter might be nearly at an end.

That misguided hope was dashed last week when another winter storm struck the region, accompanied by another blast of Arctic chill. At least the birds didn’t seem to mind terribly.

Dark-eyed juncos, Eastern towhees, song sparrows and American goldfinches flocked to my feeders. Another bird’s persistent “churr” call made the presence of a red-bellied woodpecker known even before I managed to sight one visiting one of my feeders.

Among the woodpecker family, the red-bellied and red-headed woodpeckers are close cousins, belonging to a genus of those tree-clinging birds known as Melanerpes. The term, translated from Latin, means “black creeper.” Indeed, many of the two dozen members of the Melanerpes genus have an extensive amount of black feathers in their plumage.

Other members of the genus include woodpeckers from the Caribbean, as well as from Central and South America. Some of them have quite colorful names, such as yellow-tufted woodpecker, golden-cheeked woodpecker and the accurately named beautiful woodpecker, a native of Colombia.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • Red-bellied woodpeckers are common throughout the southeastern United States.

The red-bellied woodpecker is one of the most widespread members of this genus with a range that extends from southern Canada to northeastern Mexico, as well as the eastern United States as far south as Florida and as far west as Texas. A century ago the red-bellied woodpecker was almost exclusively a southeastern bird, but it has expanded its range northward and westward considerably in the last 100 years. Its southern origins are hinted at in its scientific name of Melanerpes carolinus, which can be roughly translated as “black creeper of the Carolinas.”

It’s also named for a characteristic of its appearance that is not particularly prominent and difficult to observe. The faint tint of red that tinges the white belly feathers is extremely difficult to observe when this woodpecker is hitching up the trunk of a large tree. Because males, and females to a certain extent, have a red cap, the species has been erroneously referred to as a “red-headed woodpecker” by many casual observers. The true red-headed woodpecker, however, has an entirely red head and a plumage pattern that, considering its color trio of red, white and blue-black, is downright patriotic. The red-headed woodpecker (Melanerpes erythrocephalus) is about the same size as the red-bellied woodpecker.

All woodpeckers are noisy when the mood strikes them, but the red-headed and red-bellied have always struck me as rather more clamorous than some of their relatives. The most common call of the red-bellied woodpecker is a sort of rolling “churr” repeated frequently while the bird is on the move from tree to tree.

To enjoy close views of the red-bellied woodpecker, provide plenty of peanuts, sunflower seeds and suet cakes. During the recent snowstorm I would no doubt have enjoyed even more views of the visiting red-bellied woodpecker if I hadn’t been out of suet cakes. The offerings of sunflower seeds and peanuts, I’m happy to report, were gratefully accepted.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A red-bellied woodpecker climbs snow-covered branches.

If there are any of these woodpeckers in the woods nearby, they will find these food offerings in short order. All my research indicates the same is true of red-headed woodpeckers, but I’ve never observed this woodpecker at my home. I’ve seen red-headed woodpeckers in Tennessee, Virginia and South Carolina, but their populations are somewhat localized. Woodlands dominated by oak trees are often inhabited by both these woodpeckers, which are fond of the acorns produced by these trees.

One reason the red-headed woodpecker may be less common than its cousin relates to its fondness for hawking for flying insects along roadsides. The woodpeckers are frequently struck by cars when swooping after their winged prey. Historically, the American chestnut and beech trees also provided much of the mast crops consumed by these birds. With the extermination of the chestnut and the scarcity of beech in some locations, the red-headed woodpecker now depends on oaks and acorns. In fact, this woodpecker is rarely encountered outside of woodlands with an abundance of oak trees.

At feeders, red-bellied woodpeckers are prickly customers that often refuse to play nice with other birds. I’ve seen them stare down other large feeder birds, including blue jays, mourning doves and evening grosbeaks. With its large bill, the red-bellied woodpecker commands some respect.

Anyone who has hosted these birds knows they are a welcome visitor to any yard. Who knows? Some day I may even get a visit from the elusive red-headed woodpecker, which is the only woodpecker that resides in the region to thus far avoid my yard.

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

Birds have developed ways of dealing with cold

David Ellis/USFWS • A common redpoll feasts on stiff goldenrod seed. These small finches can endure temperatures 100 degrees below freezing.

With the arrival of January, we can probably be assured of some cold weather. I’m not fond of the cold, but I can put on gloves and a thicker coat and I am good to go.

What about our feathered friends? How do birds cope when temperature plummet below freezing?

Birds actually employ a range of strategies and behaviors that keep them cozy even during the worst that winter can hurl at them.

Some birds avoid the necessity of coping with cold by migrating. All those tropical species that brighten the warmer seasons in the mountains of Southern Appalachia withdraw to warmer areas in Central and South America during the winter.

Those birds that elect not to put distance between themselves and cold temperatures must do something to stay warm. Feathers are one of a bird’s defining traits, and they can do a neat trick with their feathers to stay warm. You’ve probably seen them do this. They will fluff their feathers, trapping air between them to provide insulation. If you’ve ever noticed that some birds look “fatter” in extreme cold it’s likely because they have fluffed up to combat the cold.

Of course, feathers require good maintenance to help with the task of staying warm, and birds are diligent about such tasks. Preening feathers on a routine basis keeps them watertight and able to hold in heat. Some birds even grow extra feathers in autumn to prepare for cold temperatures. That’s similar to dogs or cats growing a denser coat of fur in anticipation of wintry temperatures.

Birds have different comfort levels when its comes to personal space, but many of the more sociable species will huddle together. You’ve probably seen nature documentaries of penguins in the Antarctic as they huddle together for weeks on end to endure the harsh conditions of the globe’s southernmost continent.

Larger species of birds, such as geese and grouse, eat more and gain weight, which is often achieved by the storage of body fat.

Other birds have also adopted the huddling strategy in a cozy cavity or nest box. My most vivid recollection of an observation of this strategy involved Eastern bluebirds. During a severe cold snap accompanied by snow and blustery winds, I watched multiple bluebirds enter one of my nesting boxes. I’m not sure how many entered the box, but it was likely about eight to 10 birds.

Necessity makes birds adaptable. The next day the aforementioned high winds took down the post that held the nest box. At dusk the bluebirds showed up again. They looked baffled to find the box had disappeared. Then I saw them fluttering into an old tire that I had used at the base of the pole to help anchor the box. Faced with oncoming darkness, they chose to huddle together inside the old tire.

Natural cavities in trees also provide cozy roosting spaces for birds. Chickadees and titmice, nuthatches and woodpeckers seek out such cavities ahead of time so they will always be ensured of a warm space during bouts of inclement weather.

The biological mechanism of torpor is one that’s probably familiar to fans of hummingbirds, but other small birds can also take steps to lower their body temperature. Chickadees and kinglets put this ability to good use. In these small birds, the adaptation being employed is known as controlled hypothermia. Chickadees can drop their body temperature by as much as 22 degrees below normal daytime body temperature.

Snakes and reptiles can enter a physical state called brumation, where they sleep more but still wake to eat, drink and enjoy the sun on warmer days, according to information on the Facebook page of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Since snakes are cold-blooded, they’re lethargic at these colder temperatures even when they’re on the move.

Hibernation, although a strategy widely used by mammals, is rare in birds. The common poorwill (a relative of whip-poor-will and chuck-will’s-widow – is the only bird known to go into torpor for extended periods that can range from weeks to months. On the southern edge of their range in the United States, poorwills spend much of the winter hibernating, usually concealed in rock piles.

There’s warmth in numbers. Crows, starlings, robins and other species will gather in communal roosts to use body warmth to stay warm overnight. Sometimes these roosts are quite large and can lead to conflict with nearby humans who may not want the noise and mess that comes with hosting a large flock of birds.

While warm socks and gloves protect human toes and fingers, birds don’t have to worry about frostbite. Quick circulation means that blood does not linger in their feet long enough to freeze. In addition, the legs and feet of birds are covered in scales. Like feathers, the scales provide excellent insulation.

Some birds will gather together in large stands of evergreens. I’ve observed house sparrows gathering in the holly trees outside the courthouse in downtown Erwin at dusk on cold evenings.

There are things we can do to help. Plant evergreen trees or construct a brush pile that will provide shelter from the elements, as well as a measure of safety from predators, for the birds that share our lawns and gardens.

Many people already feed birds. Try supplementing seeds with some food rich in fat. Birds, unlike us, will not be adversely affected by a high-fat diet. Their metabolism allows them to burn off the extra calories in an enviable amount of time. Some high-fat foods that birds will love include peanut butter and beef suet, as well as peanuts and other assorted nuts. While it’s relatively simple to render suet into a usable for for birds, most people cannot be blamed for turning to commercially made suet cakes. Many of these are also made even more appealing with a mix of peanuts or fruit into the suet cake. The extra calories derived from these foods will let birds better regulate their body temperature and tolerate the more frigid nights.

It’s also important to provide liquid water for birds. Outdoor heaters designed to fit into a birth bath can help prevent the water from freezing during cold snaps.

Birds will also appreciate a sunny spot. By basking in sunshine, they can also boost their internal temperature.

Some birds are just built for cold. For example, snowy owls have been observed in temperatures 80 degrees below zero. Species of redpolls, a type of finch, can endure temperatures 100 degrees below freezing.

Emperor penguins live and nest in some of the most inhospitable terrain on the planet. Those who have viewed the documentary film “March of the Penguins” will be familiar with the species. Their colonies on the ice in the Antarctic must endure temperatures than can plunge to -40 degrees Farenheit. They must also survive frigid winds that can reach 90 miles per hour.

Emperor penguins have several adaptation to help them survive such cold conditions, according to the World Wildlife Fund. These penguins have two layers of feathers, a reserve of fat and beaks and flippers that are proportionally smaller than those for other penguin species.

Lee Karney/USFWS • The common raven can live in a range of habitats, but these large and intelligent birds are especially adapted to cold.

The common raven is another bird that shrugs off cold and snow. They can survive and thrive in habitats as varied as Arctic tundra and scorching deserts. If temperatures drop below -4 degrees Farenheit, ravens can generate extra body heat.

All things considered, birds are simply better at coping with cold than we are.

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

Seasonal transitions raise profiles of flickers, other birds

NatureLady/Pixabay • Northern flickers belong to the woodpecker family. Relatives living in the region include the pileated woodpecker, yellow-bellied sapsucker and downy woodpecker. Unlike most woodpeckers, flickers spend an extensive amount of time foraging on the ground for various insects.

Robin Free, a resident of Scott County, Virginia, emailed me after reading a recent column about owls. She told me she was interested in attracting more owls to her property, which she noted boasts an abundance of ground squirrels and mice.

I congratulated her on the fact that with all those ground squirrels and mice her home should make for happy hunting grounds for any owls in the vicinity.

I suggested she could play a recording of a screech-owl call at dusk to see if she can get a real owl to respond. These small owls are very curious and will readily respond.

Photo by Bryan Stevens
An Eastern Screech-Owl at rest in a roosting hole in a large sycamore tree.

The owl that Robin and most os us are likely to attract is the Eastern screech-owls. Since screech-owls are cavity-nesters, people can offer a roosting/nesting box. Obviously, these boxes have to be a little larger than for songbirds. Simply do a Google search to find screech-owl boxes for purchase.

Here’s some info I found online about screech-owl boxes. Placement is crucial. Mount the box at least 10 feet high in a tree, on a pole or on the edge of woods, fields or wetlands. Keep it away from trees where squirrels can jump to it. Add a couple of inches of wood chips or saw dust for nesting material.

 

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In this transition from fall to winter, some birds have adopted higher profiles around my home. I hear and see ruby-crowned kinglets and white-throated sparrows almost every morning as I leave for work. I am also seeing and hearing Northern flickers.

Flickers are woodpeckers, but there are some differences between them and other members of this clan. While flickers can be found during all seasons in the region, this woodpecker is one of the migratory ones. I see the most Northern flickers during fall migration. This woodpecker is one of the few of its kind that usually migrates to warmer climates during the colder months, although the species is not completely absent from the region in the winter season.

This species also has many other common names, including yellow-hammer — a popular name in the Deep South — and harry-wicket, heigh-ho and gawker bird. The Northern flicker is also the only woodpecker to serve a state — Alabama — as an official bird. The flicker earned this distinction back in 1927. Alabama soldiers who fought for the Confederacy were nicknamed “yellowhammers” because of their grey-and-yellow uniforms, which matched the colors of the bird. Incidentally, Alabama was one of the first states to ever name an official state bird.

There are two races of Northern flicker — yellow-shafted and red-shafted — found in the United States. Eastern flickers show yellow feather shafts beneath the wings while western counterparts show red beneath the wings. A trip to Utah several years ago gave me a chance to also see the red-shafted race of this bird.

The Northern flicker is also not the only flicker in the United States. The gilded flicker inhabits many of the deserts — Sonoran, Yuma and Colorado — in the United States. Of course, trees are scarce in deserts, but that hasn’t proven an obstacle for this woodpecker. The bird is closely associated with saguaro cactus. Other desert dwellers depend on this woodpecker. Once the flickers are no longer making use of their nest and roost holes in the multi-armed cacti, other wildlife moved into the chambers.

The Northern flicker is an enthusiastic drummer, pounding loudly on the sides of trees with its stout bill. The purpose of the drumming is to communicate with mates and signal potential rivals that they’re intruding. Toward that objective, flickers sometimes substitute metal utility poles or the sides of buildings for the trunks of trees. In addition to drumming, the flicker also employs a variety of loud vocalizations that are fairly distinctive. A loud, repeated vocalization, often translated as “wicka-wicka-wicka,” is similar to the cluck-like call of the larger pileated woodpecker. The flicker is also known for emitting a sharp, loud “kleeer” call that can be heard from a considerable distance. It’s that call that I’ve been hearing most mornings in the woodlands around my home.

The adult flicker is a brown bird with black bars on the back and wings. A distinctive black patch occupies the upper breast, while the lower breast and belly are beige with black spots. Males can be identified by a black or red mustache stripe at the base of the beak. They also have a red stripe on the back of their gray heads. The flicker’s dark tail is set apart by a white rump patch that is conspicuous when the bird takes flight..

Look for Northern flickers in fields, orchards, city parks and well-planted suburban yards. These woodpeckers are usually not too shy around human observers and will sometimes allow for extended observation. If you’re even more fortunate, you could find one visiting your yard or garden. Just remember to scan the ground. This is one woodpecker that’s not a consistent tree-hugger like many of its kin.

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Bryan Stevens has written weekly about birds and birding since 1995. Email him at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com to share sightings, ask questions or make comments.

 

 

Spotlight on dark-eyed junco launched weekly column 29 years ago

Pixabay • A dark-eyed junco visits a deck for birdseed.

I wrote my first bird column on Sunday, Nov. 5, 1995, which means this weekly column is marking its 29th anniversary this week.

Looking back, it seems almost unbelievable that I’ve written anything on a regular weekly basis for almost 30 years. This column has appeared in a total of six different newspapers, which I regard as a personal achievement, as well as an accomplishment for our feathered friends. It’s on their behalf that I pen these weekly efforts to promote conservation and good will toward all birds. I have also posted the column as a weekly blog posting since February 2014 at http://www.ourfinefeatheredfriends.com.

I’ve played detective, helping people identify everything from “rain crows,” or cuckoos, to Muscovy ducks, rose-breasted grosbeaks and house finches. I’ve observed unusual birds, including white pelicans, brants and roseate spoonbills, in Northeast Tennessee, Southwest Virginia and Western North Carolina and spotlighted them in these columns.

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

While my vision challenges remain, I find that looking through binoculars works just fine, allowing me to spin the focus wheel and still take delight in the kaleidoscopic parade of colorful warblers that pass through the region each spring and fall as well as the fast-paced duels of ruby-throated hummingbirds. My main problem these days is the inability to spot movement, especially in treetops where many birds like to hang out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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I’ve already seen the first of the season’s white-throated sparrows, a reliable precursor to juncos. If you’d like to share your first sighting this season of dark-eyed juncos, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com. As always, the column is open as a line of communication with fellow bird enthusiasts. I’ve enjoyed sharing stories about birds with countless readers over the past 29 years. I can also be reached on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler.

 

Mockingbird has been Tennessee state bird since 1933

By George/Pixabay • The Northern mockingbird serves as the state bird for Tennessee, as well as four other states. These songbirds are renowned for having a spirited nature.

We know some birds by their colorful feathers and others by a distinctive song. The Northern mockingbird demands attention not so much from brilliant plumage or a unique song — this bird actually copies the songs of other birds — but from an indomitable spirit all out of proportion to its size.

The mockingbird is a relatively common bird in most of the region, but it has always been rather scarce bird at my home. This year has been no exception. I’ve observed gray catbirds and brown thrashers as summer transitioned into autumn, but there’s been no sign of any Northern mockingbirds.

Mockingbirds don’t usually visit my yard and gardens outside of late fall and early winter. Close relatives like the gray catbird and brown thrasher, however, are usually fairly common birds in spring, summer and fall. I’ve even had thrashers visit during the winter months, as well as an unexpected December sighting of a catbird in 2015.

These three species are lumped together in a family of birds known as the “mimic thrushes,” so named because of their talent for mimicry. The group provides a convenient umbrella for some related songbirds capable of imitating the songs of other birds.

Mimidae, the Latin root for “mimic,” provides the scientific name for the family, which includes mockingbirds and the New World catbirds, as well as thrashers. The Northern mockingbird is best known for the ability to mimic, but relatives like the gray catbird and brown thrasher are also talented mimics.

The varied repertoire of a mockingbird has always impressed human listeners. Laura C. Martin notes in her book, “The Folklore of Birds,” that the Choctaw Indians referred to the mockingbird as hushi balbaha, or “the bird that speaks a foreign language.”

Mockingbirds will break into song — their own and those of other birds — at almost any time of day or night. Both sexes sing. Biologists have speculated that there might not be a limit to the songs mockingbirds can learn to imitate, while other experts believe that the mockingbird’s mimicry might not be quite so extensive.

The Northern mockingbird is the only mockingbird found in North America, but Central America, South America and some of the Caribbean islands are also home to 16 other species of mockingbirds. Several endemic species of mockingbirds also inhabit some of the islands in the Galápagos archipelago.

Some of these other mockingbirds include brown-backed mockingbird, white-banded mockingbird, blue mockingbird, blue-and-white mockingbird, chalk-browed mockingbird, Bahama mockingbird and tropical mockingbird.

Anyone with much experience with mockingbirds would probably agree that these birds are bold, courageous and sometimes fiercely assertive.

The aggression of the mockingbird was on full display on an occasion when I observed a pair of these birds attempting to defend a berry-laden holly tree from a voracious flock of cedar waxwings. Badly outnumbered, the two mockingbirds would successfully chase off several waxwings only for another dozen or so waxwings to take the place of their vanquished flock mates. Although the flock of waxwings consisted of about 80 individual birds, the mockingbird pair put up a valiant struggle to defend the food represented by those holly berries.

Nesting mockingbirds are also very defensive of both their nest and young. They will attack anything that moves in the vicinity, including domestic cats and dogs, as well as humans.

I once observed a young red-tailed hawk perched in a tree while crows and blue jays were screaming in protest at the large raptor’s presence. The only bird to actually make contact with the hawk, however, was a single mockingbird that swiped the back of the hawk’s head in a persuasive effort to convince the raptor to move along.

Perhaps not surprisingly, these aggressive songbird can reach a ripe old age. According to the website All About Birds, the oldest Northern mockingbird on record was at least 14 years, 10 months old when it was found in Texas.

Early American naturalist and artist John James Audubon painted a famous depiction of mockingbirds attacking a rattlesnake. He painted the dramatic scene to demonstrate the fearless nature of the mockingbird in defending its young.

It’s that feisty attitude that impresses most people about mockingbirds. Even people who don’t like this bird — some consider it a bully — usually give grudging credit that the bird doesn’t lack in courage or spirit.

Perhaps that’s the reason five states — Tennessee, Texas, Florida, Arkansas and Mississippi — have made the mockingbird their official state bird. The southern makeup of these states reflects that the mockingbird has always been a bird of the southern United States even as it has expanded its range northward and westward.

The mockingbird was designated the state bird by the Tennessee General Assembly in 1933. The mockingbird’s designation had been decided earlier that same year in an election conducted by the Tennessee Ornithological Society. Florida and Texas both selected the mockingbird in 1927, Arkansas in 1929, and Mississippi in 1944. The mockingbird was once the official state bird of South Carolina but was replaced by the Carolina wren in 1948.

I find mockingbirds fascinating, partly because they remain a bit of a rarity at my home. I realize that the militant nature of this bird may distress those wanting peace and harmony among the feathered occupants of their yards and gardens.

If the mockingbird had a slogan, it might be something like “don’t mess with me.” The mockingbird in your yard or garden considers the territory its own little kingdom. Intruders beware.

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

 

Rare birds are occasional silver linings after hurricanes

Kaleomanuiwa Wong/USFWS • A sooty tern clings to a rocky perch. Hurricane Frances blew a sooty tern to Holston Lake in Bristol on Sept. 8, 2004.

During a program I presented on birds and birding at the Elizabethton/Carter County Public Library many years ago, an attendee asked me if I knew what happens to birds in a hurricane?

The question, no doubt prompted by the 2017 hurricanes Harvey and Irma, is of particular concern now that many of our favorite birds are migrating south along paths that could take them into harm’s way.

Hurricanes are often a factor that fall migrants must face. In 2004, Hurricane Frances blew some unusual tropical birds to Holston Lake in Bristol. Severe storms also present devastating obstacles for other birds.

Well-known birder and author Kenn Kaufman shared his knowledge about birds and hurricanes when interviewed back in 2011 on the Audubon website. Among some fascinating insight he shared, Kaufman noted that the way intense storms affect birds depends on the species. He noted that a whimbrel, a large shorebird, would be more likely to fly through a major hurricane and live to tell the tale. On the other hand, such a storm would likely prove lethal for songbirds like warblers and thrushes.

To the questioner at my program, I also admitted that dedicated birders are, at times, rather atypical people. For a birder looking to find a totally unexpected bird, every hurricane comes with a proverbial silver lining. In the case of birders, that lining involves some of those stronger flyers — birds like whimbrels, noddies, terns, jaegers or tropicbirds — that get swept into the eye of the storm, carried far inland and dropped onto large lakes as the storm weakens.

My first direct observation of one of these hurricane-transported displaced birds took place back on Sept. 8, 2004. I had been drawn to Musick’s Campground on South Holston Lake by reports of an incredible fallout of such birds, which included species like whimbrel and red knot. More than a dozen fellow birders were present in the swirl of wind, mist and rain when a graceful bird with a dramatic two-toned black and white plumage flew overhead.

I had no idea of the bird’s identity, but I knew instantly it was a species I’d never observed. I heard someone yell “sooty tern” — the identity of the shouter turned out to be area birding legend Rick Knight — and then pandemonium broke out as birders in rain gear got their binoculars into position to track the bird before it flew out of sight.

We needn’t have worried. The bird lingered long enough for all those present to get a good look. I was accompanied that day by the late Howard P. Langridge, a well-known birder in both Florida and Tennessee. Howard had seen sooty terns, but he had found them when visiting the islands of the Dry Tortugas, west of the Florida Keys.

Ronald Plett/Pixabay • Royal terns, like the individual pictured, usually stay close to coastlines. In 1989, Hurricane Hugo blew a royal tern all the way to Watauga Lake, establishing the first record for the species in the state.

Two months after the exciting observation of that sooty tern, Howard passed away at age 81. So, even to this day, memories of that bird are tinged with some bittersweetness from the fact it was one of my last birding adventures with a man who served as a bit of a birding mentor for me.

On our drive back home after that exciting encounter with the storm-driven tern, Howard talked excitedly about sooty terns and some of the other rare birds he had seen in a birding career that spanned more than 50 years.

In addition, we learned a valuable lesson that day. It’s an accepted fact that no bird is worth risking life or limb. It’s also a good idea to be careful where you park when going out to a rain-drenched lakeshore to look for birds from a diminished hurricane. Howard and I lingered after the other birders departed. When we started to leave, he discovered his car’s back tires had gotten stuck in the clay mud. With Howard behind the wheel, I pushed his car as the tires spun madly for traction. I ruined a new pair of denim jeans, but I got the car out of the mud. It’s one more memory that will put a smile on my face to this day.

The sooty tern, blown to a Bristol lake in 2004 by Hurricane Frances, remains a highlight of my birding; however, it’s hardly the only unusual bird to be dumped on area lakes thanks to hurricanes that formed in tropic waters.

Hurricane Hugo back in 1989 remains one of the most legendary storms in the minds of most long-time birders in the area. I hadn’t yet taken up birding at that time, but birders like Howard made sure I knew all about the bird bounty stirred up by Hugo. Two species of jaegers — parasitic and pomarine — were among the birds blown inland to Watauga Lake in Carter County. Seeing these birds usually requires a seat on a boat capable of traveling far out to sea to look for birds that hardly ever venture near the shoreline except for nesting.

Hurricane Hugo also blew more than 50 Forster’s terns — a record number for the region — to Watauga Lake. In addition, a single royal tern — a first record for Tennessee — was also detected by birders looking for birds displaced by Hurricane Hugo.

Much farther back, a high count of Caspian terns was recorded Sept. 5, 1964, at Boone Lake in the wake of Hurricane Cleo. The late Wallace Coffey, a well-known birder in Bristol, was present to witness those 130 Caspian terns. Both Caspian and royal terns are birds usually found along the Atlantic Coast in places like Florida, Georgia and the Carolinas.

As I write this week’s post, I did some digging online to see if Hurricane Helene caused any problems for migrating birds.

It’s possible that the storm did drive some unusual species inland. Common gallinules have been spotted in Oak Ridge, as well as Roane County and Anderson County in the days after the storm. American avocets have also shown up in locations across the Volunteer State in the same time period.

Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology did report some displaced birds in the wake of Hurricane Helene, but the reports came mostly from coastal areas that saw some off-shore species like sooty shearwater, Audubon’s shearwater, magnificent frigatebird, brown noddy, bridled tern, sooty tern, Bermuda petrel and American flamingo driven closer to coastlines.

I haven’t heard of any regional migrant fallouts, but then Helene was a rather horrific storm. Even dedicated birders know when to hunker down and look for birds another day.

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

Seeing Yellow: Visit from an odd cardinal surprises local couple

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A male Northern cardinal leads a young cardinal to food sources.

Unicoi resident Bobby Davis called me last week to share news about a sighting of a yellow cardinal. Bobby said that he and his wife, Tressa, have two bird baths and a hummingbird feeder in their yard and are in the habit of watching the comings and goings of their feathered friends. At 1 p.m. on Tuesday, Aug. 8, they noticed a yellow cardinal in the yard near some rhododendrons.

A “yellow” cardinal is simply a Northern cardinal that has inherited a rare genetic condition that causes the bird’s feathers to turn yellow instead of red.

A news item posted to a website for The Wood Thrush Shop in Nashville relates the story of a backyard feeding station in Harriman, Tennessee, in Roane County that was visited by a yellow Northern cardinal on a regular basis.

Yellow Northern cardinals have been seen in at least four different states the last 10 years but remain a rarity.

The article explained that the yellow coloration in affected cardinals is caused by a rare genetic mutation. The colors red, orange and yellow in a bird’s feathers are created with carotenoid pigments derived from the foods they eat. In the male Northern cardinal, yellow pigments from the diet apparently are converted to red by a specific enzyme. In a very rare genetic mutation, probably affecting fewer than one in a million cardinals, that enzyme is lacking, so the conversion to red doesn’t occur and the feathers are bright yellow instead.

Back in May of this year, a yellow cardinal given the name Maize was spotted in Alabama. That sighting took place less than 15 miles from a location that hosted another yellow cardinal in 2018. Was Maize a descendant of that yellow cardinal spotted six years ago?

Perhaps the yellow cardinal will stick around at Bobby and Tressa’s home. Bobby informed me that they have an ordinary pair of red cardinals that resides in their yard, but he noted that the three birds have not interacted.

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Interestingly enough, there is a bird with the actual name yellow cardinal, but it is not closely related to the Northern cardinal. This South American bird has the scientific name of Gubernatrix cristata and is a member of the tanager family.

The yellow cardinal was formally described in 1817 by the French ornithologist Louis Pierre Vieillot under the binomial name Coccothraustes cristata. The word “cristata” means crested or plumed.

This yellow cardinal ranges in Argentina, Brazil, Paraguay and Uruguay. Its natural habitats are dry savanna, temperate shrubland, subtropical or tropical moist shrubland and temperate grasslands. The yellow cardinal is threatened by habitat loss and from pet trade trappers for sale as exotic pets. Males are trapped at a higher rate than females, and the yellow cardinal is considered endangered due to the constant entrapment. If recent counts are accurate, only about 1,000 t0 2,000 of these birds still exist.

Photo by U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service
Pyrrhuloxia, also known as desert cardinal, is related to the Northern cardinal. 

The Northern Cardinal, on the other hand, is an abundant, beloved songbird. There’s additional evidence to put forward as testimony to the popularity of the Northern cardinal. It’s the official state bird of seven states: Virginia, North Carolina, West Virginia, Ohio, Illinois, Indiana and Kentucky. Only the Northern mockingbird, which represents five states as official state bird, even comes close to the Northern cardinal in this respect.

Cardinals are a widespread species, ranging westward to the Dakotas and south to the Gulf Coast and Texas. The southeastern United States was once the stronghold of the cardinal population. In the past century, however, cardinals have expanded their range into New England and Canada. These birds have even been introduced to Hawaii.

The Northern cardinal has only two close relative in the genus Cardinalis. The pyrrhuloxia, also known as the desert cardinal, ranges throughout Arizona, New Mexico and Texas, as well as in Mexico. The third relative is known as vermilion cardinal and is found in Colombia and Venezuela. This bird suffers some losses to the exotic pet trade, but its numbers have managed to remain fairly stable.

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I’ve been an active birder since the early 1990s. To share a sighting, ask a question or make a comment, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Native wading birds wander widely in late summer

 

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A great egret captures a frog from a pond’s edge in South Carolina.

The fish pond at my home has attracted a stalker. Amid the cattails and beneath the drooping branches of tall bald cypress trees, a lurking great blue heron has patiently been stalking fish, frogs and anything else that comes within striking reach of the bird’s sturdy dagger-shaped beak.

The heron’s visits have prompted me to dig into my archived columns this week. Please enjoy this column, which was previously published in July of 2019, about summer’s wading birds.

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North America’s stately wading birds — egrets, herons, bitterns, ibises and their kin — are well-known wanderers in late summer. As with all birds capable of flight, a pair of strong wings cannot be underestimated. Birds can show up in the most likely places.

Take for instance the first confirmed sighting of an American flamingo in Tennessee. This particular flamingo — an almost unthinkable bird for the Volunteer State — showed up along Highway 78 in Lake County on July 13, 2019.

Ruben Stoll and Alan Troyer found the flamingo, backing up their discovery with photographs of the large pink bird associating with great egrets and other wading birds. The flamingo created considerable buzz on rare bird alerts in several nearby states. Many birders rushed to add this exceptional visitor to their state and life lists.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • White ibises occasionally meander away from the coast in late summer. Immature birds will be brown instead of white.

In summers past, other exciting wading birds ranging from little blue herons to wood storks have excited the region’s birders. I recently celebrated my own sighting of one of these wanderers that made a stop at my fish pond on July 10.

I had stepped outside my house and let the door slam a little too loudly behind me, causing a stately great egret near my fish pond to take flight and fly over the roof of my house. I regretted instantly not having a camera with me.

Two days later, I got another chance. The great egret made another appearance. Unfortunately for the tall bird, he attracted the ire of the resident red-winged blackbirds. In a most inhospitable manner, the blackbirds attacked and dived at the egret, which made some awkward attempts to evade the angry blackbirds. Blackbirds are protective of their territory and have swooped at me several times when I’ve ventured too close to their favored cattails.

More prepared on this occasion, I had my camera with me and managed to get a few photographs of the egret.

The next day, only a few miles from my home, Lauri Sneyd Vance took a photograph of a great egret that stopped at her home in Limestone Cove in Unicoi County, Tennessee. Having seen my Facebook post, she notified me that she had also received a visit from an egret. Was it the same bird? Perhaps.

Oddly enough, the bird is actually the second great egret to visit my fish pond. The first one made an unseasonable stop several years ago on a snowy December afternoon — hardly a time of year I might have expected a visit from an egret in the mountains of Northeast Tennessee.

The great egret stands 3.3 feet tall. With an all-white plumage, a long yellow bill and dark legs, this egret is often described as graceful and elegant. Its likeness was incorporated into the logo for the National Audubon Society, an organization formed to protect egrets and other wading birds from a wanton slaughter in the late 1800s when millions of the birds were killed so their feathers could be used in women’s fashions.

During the breeding season, adult great egrets sprout long plumes on their back. These frilly feathers are known as aigrettes, which are used to attract the attention of prospective mates in elaborate mating displays.

According to the All About Birds website, great egrets feed mostly on fish, but they also eat amphibians, reptiles, rodents, songbirds and crustaceans. On visits to the South Carolina coast, I’ve observed great egrets dining on frogs and small fish. In prime habitat, flocks of great egrets will gather to forage together in wetlands or around ponds. More sociable than some herons, great egrets also nest and roost communally.

The other North American egrets include snowy egret, reddish egret and cattle egret. Other egrets found around the world include the intermediate egret, little egret, slaty egret, black egret,dimorphic egret and Chinese egret.

As summer advances, keep your eye on area rivers, lakes and ponds. It’s the best time of year to see egrets, herons and other long-legged wading birds. In the case of the American flamingo, I realize that lightning rarely strikes twice, but if you do happen to see a gangly pink bird, let me know.

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

Photo by Bryan Stevens
A Great Blue Heron moves stealthily through a wetland.

Summer’s swallows are graceful, aerodynamic birds

Tom Koerner/USFWS • A perched tree swallow surveys its surroundings..

They took their time this year, but the tree swallows are finally putting in appearances almost daily, especially on the string of sunny, hot days the region has experience lately. This pair of swallows has become frequent visitors since the middle of last month.

Based on their behavior, which primarily consists of aerial foraging over fields and a pond at my home, I’m convinced they are feeding young. They don’t, however, appear to be residing in any of my nest boxes. I’m simply glad they are nesting close enough to ensure frequent visits. It probably won’t be long before their young are soaring over the fields with them.

No matter where you live, you probably don’t have to go far to see one of the members of the bird family known as swallows. These graceful, aerodynamic birds are quite familiar to most people. If you spend much time at all outdoors during the summer months, chances are you’ve observed some members of this family.

Vincent Simard from Pixabay. • A tree swallow peeks from a nest box.

It’s usually not too difficult to find five of the six species that are known to make Northeast Tennessee and Southwest Virginia their home from spring to fall. The more commonplace swallows are barn swallow and tree swallows, but during the summer months purple martins, cliff swallows and northern rough-winged swallows also call the region home.

Barn swallow and tree swallow are the two members of the family that are probably best known to people. They have adapted to life in both suburban and rural areas, which brings them into frequent contact with people.

These days, the barn swallow is as apt to nest in a parking garage or on an apartment balcony as inside a barn in the countryside. Once young swallows leave the nest, parents will park them on a perch as they continue to feed the still dependent young. Adults fly over nearby fields, foraging for insects that they catch on the wing and deliver back to the waiting, always hungry, young birds.

A freshly mown field is a magnet for swallows. I don’t know how the word spreads so quickly among these birds, but I’ve observed dozens of these birds descending on fields soon after they have been mowed for hay. At times, the birds arrive while the mowing is still taking place, swooping after insects stirred up in the tractor’s wake.

I haven’t observed any bank swallows in the region this year, but these members of the swallow family are rather hit-or-miss in the region. Because of their specialized nesting needs, bank swallows are localized in their distribution and not as widespread as their kin.

Cliff swallows nest beneath many local bridges. These swallows, which at one time nested primarily on rocky cliffs, hence their name, now frequently nest under man-made structures. These swallows make their jug-shaped nests out of mud and clay. These nesting “jugs” are all located in clusters beneath bridges and other structures. It’s a wonder that the parents flying in with food are able to tell their nests apart from the nearby seemingly identical nests of their neighbors.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A Northern rough-winged swallow perches on a rusty pole.

Northern rough-winged swallows are opportunists when it comes to nesting. According to a profile written by Mark Johns with North Carolina Wesleyan College, this small swallow nests near rocky gorges, shale banks, stony road cuts, railroad embankments, gravel pits, eroded margins of streams and other exposed banks of clay, sand or gravel. They will also nest in old kingfisher burrows, protruding drainpipes, crevices in brick or stone structures such as dams, bridges or tunnels, gutters and culverts. Their nests are often built near open water.

The Northern rough-winged swallow ranks as one of the species with the longest common names in North America. It’s name consists of 26 letters and a hyphen, which ranks it one letter below both the Northern beardless-tyrannulet and a recently-created species — the saltmarsh sharp-tailed sparrow — which each have 27 letters and a hyphen. Formerly known as sharp-tailed sparrow, the species was renamed with “salt marsh” added to distinguish it from a relative, Nelson’s sparrow.

Purple martins, which rank as the largest member of the swallow family in North America, are famous for nesting in large colonies. Nesting facilities range from groupings of natural or artificial gourds fashioned into a nesting chamber, as well as large, multi-level condominium dwellings tailored for the specific needs of this communal bird. A colony can consist of several dozen to several hundred pairs of these birds. Only the adult male purple martin shows the iridescent, dark blue-purple plumage that provides the species with its name.

The tree swallow is my favorite, probably because a pair of these birds has nested in my yard for many years. Unlike other swallows, these cavity-nesting birds will readily accept nesting boxes. They compete with Eastern bluebirds for boxes, but the two species usually can work out a truce and settle down to nest in close proximity to each other. The iridescent blue-green male tree swallow, complete with white underparts and a forked tail, is a handsome bird and a welcome addition to the bird population in any yard or garden. Tree swallows enjoy water, so a nearby pond or creek is a boon for attracting these birds.

While only a few swallows range into the United States and Canada, a total of 83 species of swallows can be found worldwide. Some of the common names for these different swallows (and martins) are quite descriptive. A sampling includes white-eyed river martin, square-tailed saw-wing, white-headed saw-wing, grey-rumped swallow, white-backed swallow, banded martin, violet-green swallow, golden swallow, brown-chested martin, brown-bellied swallow, pale-footed swallow, white-bibbed swallow, pearl-breasted swallow, greater striped swallow, mosque swallow, fairy martin and chestnut-collared swallow.

Enjoy swallows while you can. They depart earlier than most of our other summer nesting birds. Once their young are out of the nest, they are soon forming large flocks in preparation for flying south.

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