Tag Archives: warblers

Local couple comes to aid of injured hummingbird

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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.

Birds with different spring and fall looks challenge birders

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

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

There’s a trade-off, however. Many birds don’t look their best by the time autumn migration rolls around. Take the male indigo bunting, for instance. This species is the only solid blue bird in the eastern United States, but it’s all an illusion — literally a trick of the light.

The indigo bunting’s feathers are not really blue; the male’s brilliant azure plumage is caused by the process of diffraction of light around the structure of the bird’s feathers. This process scatters all but the blue light, and the resulting color shifts from black to blue to turquoise as the angle of reflected light changes. In bright light, it can even look unnaturally vivid blue. In poor light, however, an indigo bunting male can appear black. Fortunately, indigo buntings have both a characteristic body shape and song, so even if the birds are not seen in their best light, they can still be recognized.

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

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

The indigo bunting belongs to a genus of birds known as Passerina, which is included the family Cardinalidae, which includes birds like Northern cardinal and rose-breasted grosbeak. They are often lumped into a group known as North American buntings, although they are not closely related to such birds as snow bunting and lark bunting. The latter is even recognized as the official state bird for Colorado, a unique honor for this group of birds. The other members of the Passerina genus include lazuli bunting, varied bunting, painted bunting, rose-bellied bunting, orange-breasted bunting and blue grosbeak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gray catbird’s personality veers from shyness to curiosity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Looking for fall migrating birds already underway

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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.

Black-and-white warbler won’t be confused with other birds

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Photo by Hans Toom/Pxabay A black-and-white warbler would be almost impossible to confuse with any other bird.

I’m thinking that most people have probably heard of a “gaggle” of geese or a “murder” of crows as a way to describe a flock of these particular birds. Warblers also have their collective names. A flock of warblers is often referred to as a bouquet, a confusion, a fall, a cord or a wrench of warblers, according to the Birdorable Blog.

I personally like “wrench” of warblers. It has alliteration and describes how these amazing little songbirds can definitely “wrench” one’s attention from other matters. That’s been happening a lot at home. Since arriving in early April, the resident warblers have added their songs to the soundscape that makes the woodlands surrounding my home come alive every morning.

I wrote last week about the sad incident of a male Northern parula killed after an impact with a window. I wondered if I’d have to go the spring and summer season without hearing the excitable little trill of syllables that comprises this warbler’s song. I’m happy to report that less than a week passed before another male Northern parula showed up and began adding his song to the daily chorus. The circle of life continues.

On Saturday, May 3, I got to branch out from the handful of warbler species in residence around my home to warblers in other locations. I birded with Chris Soto, a Johnson City resident and fellow member of the Elizabethton Bird Club, on Holston Mountain and Sycamore Shoals State Historic Park as part of the annual Spring Bird Count conducted by the EBC. Despite some rain while conducting our survey of Holston Mountain, we encountered a variety of warbler species.

We didn’t observe any large warbler flocks, or wrenches, but we did find numerous species, including ovenbird, worm-eating warbler, Louisiana waterthrush, black-and-white warbler, Swainson’s warbler, hooded warbler, American redstart, Cape May warbler, Northern parula, yellow warbler, chestnut-sided warbler, black-throated blue warbler, yellow-throated warbler, black-throated green warbler and Canada warbler.

We added most of these species to the list by hearing them singing their springtime songs, including the “squeaky wheel” of the black-and-white warbler and the loud, ringing notes of the Louisiana waterthrush. If the latter wants to be heard, it is essential that it produce a loud song. The waterthrush resides near rushing mountain streams, which could easily overpower songs projected at a lower volume.

The black-and-white warbler is arguably the most aptly named of all the warblers. Both males and females have glossy black and white plumage. That’s it – there are no other colors present in the bird’s feathers.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A black-and-white warbler creeps over the bark of a pine in search of insect prey.

The black-and-white warbler breeds in northern and eastern North America. It ranges from the Northwest Territories to the northwest and Newfoundland and Labrador to the northeast, to North Carolina to the southeast and Texas to the southwest. This species is migratory, wintering in Florida, Central America, the West Indies and northern South America down to Peru.

Once arriving for the spring, these warbler go about the business of nesting. The female black-and-white warbler selects a well-hidden nesting location at the base of a tree, rock, stump or fallen log, or under a bush or shrub, according to the website All About Birds. I discovered a black-and-white warbler nest, quite by accident, several years ago. The nest was wedged in a crevice beneath a large fallen pine resting on a steep ridge. Besides being rather inaccessible, I had no wish to disturb the nest so I enjoyed watching the birds through binoculars from a distance.

Photo by Hans Toom/Pxabay • A male black-and-white warbler sings its squeaky wheel song.

In its tendency to hug the trunk of trees as it seeks out insect prey, the black-and-white warbler is similar to unreleased species such as brown creeper and white-breasted nuthatch. In fact, an old common name for this bird was black-and-white creeper. It does venture farther out into a tree than the trunk, however, and will flit among branches as good as any other warbler.

For beginners just getting into the hang of birding, the black-and-white warbler is a dream when it comes to identification. It’s unlikely to be mistaken for any other bird. One good look through binoculars is usually all it takes to recognise the species. There’s no poring over the pages of a field guide for subtle field marks to help when trying to identify the black-and-white warbler. The same is true for the bird’s song, which is very similar in pattern to a squeaky wheel spinning round and round.

Enjoy the springtime and get outdoors and see what feathered friends are winging their way into your neighborhood.

Photo by Bryan Stevens
A Black-and-white Warbler forages along a branch.

Here are a few birds to look for this spring

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Photo by Bryan Stevens • A male hooded warbler perches in a cluster of branches.

Has it been a slow spring? I have felt that it’s been one step forward, two steps back. But April has finally arrived. Although we’re now two days into the month, I’m still waiting on some of my first arrivals among our fine feathered friends.

That’s not an unusual situation. I think the birds like to drag out their springtime arrivals. They know that being tardy is sure to aggravate me as I’m not known for patience.

The first male red-winged blackbird returned to the fish pond in mid-March and has been singing persistently from the tops of the bald cypress trees bordering the pond. I haven’t seen a female red-winged blackbird yet, but they tend to arrive later than males.

Of course, and I don’t think I’m alone in this hope, I’m also eager to welcome back ruby-throated hummingbirds. These tiny flying gems should be back any day now. My sugar water feeders are waiting for them.

I hope readers will once again share the first arrival dates of hummingbirds at their own feeders. Jot down the date and time, as well as any other details you’d like to share, and email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com or message me on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/ahoodedwarbler/

With those preliminary thoughts shared, what else will I look for as the spring advances? Longtime readers will know of my enthusiasm for warblers, also known as New World warblers or wood-warblers.

They’re a group of small, often colorful, passerine birds that make up the family Parulidae. The family, which occurs only in the New World, contains 120 species. They are not closely related to Old World warblers or Australian warblers.

About half of the 120 species reside in Central and South America, but the others migrate north each spring to nest in the United States and Canada. In Northeast Tennessee, we have about two dozen nesting species that make their home with us from April to October.

The warbler I look forward most to seeing is the hooded warbler, partly due to individuals belonging to this species nesting in the woodlands around my home.

Photo by USFWS/A female hooded warbler stays put on her nest.

So, from the time my favorite warbler returns in April until the last individual departs in October, I enjoy regular glimpses of this colorful and interesting bird. Like all warblers, the hooded warbler is quite energetic, dashing after tiny insects in the branches of shrubs and trees. Hooded warblers often forage close to the ground, which makes observing them easier.

Of course, birds are free to break the rules. One of my most memorable sightings of a hooded warbler involved a male singing from the upper branches of a dead pine tree. I’d estimate that the bird was at least 40 feet off the ground, singing his little heart out to attract a mate. I was standing on an elevated rise of land while the tree providing the warbler its perch was lower in a gully that actually placed bird and observer on a roughly level playing field.

That sighting took place 25 years ago, but the image of that male hooded warbler singing so enthusiastically has remained emblazoned in my memory.

This particular bird sang for several moments, which is not always the case with warblers. These birds tend to dash for cover at the slightest disturbance, but this enthusiastic male didn’t seem to pay any heed to the fact that most of its kin prefer to skulk in shrubs and dense rhododendron thickets no more than a few feet off the ground.

It’s one bird unlikely to be mistaken for any other. Every time I behold a hooded warbler, I marvel at the bird’s exquisite appearance. The gold and green feathers seem to glow brightly in the dim light of the shadowy thickets of rhododendron they prefer to inhabit. The black hood and bib surrounding the male’s yellow face stands out by virtue of its stark contrast from the brighter feathers. Large coal-black eyes complete the effect. The appearance of the male bird provides this species with its common name.

The female hooded warbler has an identical yellow-green coloration as the male, although she is slightly more drab. She lacks the black hood and bib, although older females may acquire some dark plumage on the head and around the face. Both sexes also show white tail feathers that they constantly fan and flick as they move about in thick vegetation and shrubbery.

Photo Courtesy of Jean Potter
A male scarlet tanager brightens shadowy woodlands with a flash of tropical colors yet remains mostly inconspicuous in the forest canopy.

In addition to warblers, I also look forward to the return of scarlet tanagers. Males are unmistakable in their bright red plumage accented by black wings. This is one bird that is truly breathtaking when lured into the open for an observation through a pair of binoculars.

During their summer stay in the region, scarlet tanagers largely prey on insects. Although renowned as a fruit-eating bird, the scarlet tanager primarily feeds on fruit during its migration flights and on its wintering range in the tropics. This tanager breeds in deciduous and mixed deciduous-evergreen woodlands across the eastern half of North America. It’s my understanding that oaks are a favorite tree for this woodland dweller.

It’s unlikely that you’ll run across the nest of a scarlet tanager. These birds nest high in trees, often locating their nests 50 feet or more above the ground. After building a nest, a female tanager will incubate her three to five eggs for about two weeks. It’s during this time that her inconspicuous appearance is a plus, helping her blend well with her surroundings.

So, as I wait for warblers, hummingbirds and tanagers, I’ll just have to be a little more patient. I’m also hopeful that the fish pond will attract some nesting birds such as tree swallows and wood ducks. Fingers crossed!

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Remember to let me know about your first hummingbird sightings. Email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com to notify me of a sighting, ask a question or share a comment.

Hooded warbler easily wins fans among birders

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Photo by Jean Potter • A male hooded warbler flits through the foliage of a rhododendron thicket.

The woods surrounding my home have been alive with birdsong. We’re almost ready to turn the calendar to June, but there’s been no diminishment in the fervor of the daily chorus.

The main members of the feathered choir are warblers. I’ve heard yellow-throated warbler, black-throated green warbler, black-and-white warbler, Northern parula, ovenbird, common yellowthroat and, my favorite, hooded warbler, morning and evening.

During the winter months when the hooded warbler absents itself from Northeast Tennessee, the species resides in the forests of Mexico, as well as in Belize, Costa Rica and other Central American nations.

Like many of the ruby-throated hummingbirds that make their home in the United States for the summer, the hooded warbler’s seasonal migrations take it across the vast open waters of the Gulf of Mexico. After that amazing crossing, these small songbirds disperse throughout the southeastern United States.

That birds as small as hummingbirds and warblers make this incredible migration twice yearly is one of nature’s most phenomenal feats of endurance. In a presentation by Kenn and Kimberly Kaufman that I attended six years ago, I learned that these tiny birds put on incredible fat reserves to help fuel their valiant Gulf crossings.

The warblers, also known as wood-warblers, are an exclusively New World family, numbering approximately 116 species. About 50 of these species make their home in the eastern United States and Canada for the spring and summer, departing in the fall and returning to tropical wintering grounds. Some are extremely bright and colorful birds. The hooded warbler is somewhere in the middle in a sliding scale that goes from dull to wow.

Other colorful warblers that share similar tastes in range and habitat with the hooded warbler include the American redstart, black-throated blue warbler and black-throated green warbler.

Readers who make it to the end of this weekly column will know that even my email address is a testament to my enthusiasm for the hooded warbler.

Hooded warblers nest in the woodlands around my home. So, from the time my favorite warbler returns in April until the last individual departs in October, I enjoy regular glimpses of this colorful and interesting bird. Like all warblers, the hooded warbler is quite energetic, dashing after tiny insects in the branches of shrubs and trees. Hooded warblers often forage close to the ground, which makes observing them easier.

Of course, birds are free to break the rules. One of my most memorable sightings of a hooded warbler involved a male singing from the upper branches of a dead pine tree. I’d estimate that the bird was at least 40 feet off the ground, singing his little heart out to attract a mate. I was standing on an elevated rise of land while the tree providing the warbler its perch was lower in a gully that actually placed bird and observer on a roughly level playing field.

The bird sang for many moments, which is not always the case with warblers. These birds tend to dash for cover at the slightest disturbance, but this enthusiastic male didn’t seem to pay and heed to the fact that most of its kin prefer to skulk in shrubs and dense rhododendron thickets no more than a few feet off the ground.

Back in the late 1990s, when I had just started out in birding, I observed two adult hooded warblers feeding a couple of young birds only recently out of the nest.

I was enjoying observing the sweet scene as the parent birds carried foods to the young birds, which begged incessantly and loudly when, unexpectedly, a song sparrow wandered into the scene.

The sparrow was brutally beset by the parent warblers, which attacked the intruder from all sides. The poor sparrow, having no clue to the reason for their ire, beat a hasty retreat. Sparrows are no threat, but that didn’t matter to these zealous parents.

When I first began birding, I was only dimly aware there was a family of birds known as warblers, which are now hands-down my overall favorite birds. The hooded warbler was one of the first birds I managed to identify on my own.

It’s one bird unlikely to be mistaken for any other. Every time I behold a hooded warbler, I marvel at the bird’s exquisite appearance. The gold and green feathers seem to glow brightly in the dim light of the shadowy thickets of rhododendron they prefer to inhabit. The black hood and bib surrounding the male’s yellow face stands out by virtue of its stark contrast from the brighter feathers. Large coal-black eyes complete the effect. The appearance of the male bird provides this species with its common name. The female has an identical yellow-green coloration as the male, although she is slightly more drab. She lacks the black hood and bib, although older females may acquire some dark plumage on the head and around the face. Both sexes also show white tail feathers that they constantly fan and flick as they move about in thick vegetation and shrubbery.

The warblers are, in short, an incredible family of birds. I’ve seen all but a handful of the species that reside for part of the year in the eastern United States. I still want to see a Connecticut warbler and cerulean warbler, as well as the endangered Kirtland’s warbler of Michigan and the golden-cheeked warbler of Texas.

I’ve come to think of the hooded warblers at my home as “my warblers.” There may be a kernel of truth to my belief. The website All About Birds in a profile on the species notes that a seven-year study conducted in Pennsylvania gave evidence that male hooded warblers are faithful to nesting territories from previous years. Approximately 50% of banded males were shown to return to the same area to breed again year after year.

So, some of those hooded warblers singing from the rhododendron thickets at my home are probably birds returning for consecutive spring seasons. Some of the warblers that returned back in April could be great-great-great grandchildren of those warblers that attacked the unfortunate song sparrow. At the least, it gives me pleasure to think so.

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To share a sighting, ask a question or make a comment, email me at ahoodedwarbler@aol.com, an address that shows my profound fascination for this particular bird.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • A male hooded warbler peers from a tangle of branches.

Northern waterthrush provides warbler watching highlight

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Photo by Bryan Stevens • Even in migration, both waterthrushes like to stay near water. This Northern waterthrush was photographed along the linear trail in Erwin, Tennessee.

My usual pastime of fall warbler watching declined somewhat this season, for a variety of reasons.

Time, that commodity so rare for many of us, played a part. It’s also more difficult these days to spot the movements of these swift, energetic birds in dense foliage. A vision problem that developed this past February that I have detailed in earlier columns hampered me.

My hearing’s still good, knock on wood, and I managed to hear quite a few warblers this autumn, including hooded warbler, black-throated blue warbler and Northern waterthrush.

So, I spent less time watching for the warblers this autumn and saw fewer warblers. There’s probably a connection.

I did manage to spot a few reliable favorites. I added a Northern waterthrush on a recent misty morning with that chill in the air so associated with the transition of seasons.

This warbler produces a rather loud “chunk!” chip note that’s distinctive enough to alert birders to the presence of one of these birds.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The Northern waterthrush, pictured, has a beige eye line rather than the white one usually shown by the Louisiana waterthrush.

With some patience, I got a decent look at the Northern waterthrush, which is a migrant through the region in both spring and fall. Northern waterthrushes frequent wet habitats with dense ground cover. In migration, even a puddle or a damp thicket is enough to attract one of these warblers. My recent sighting took place in the branches of a sprawling yew tree adjacent to a creek.

The related Louisiana waterthrush is a summer resident – and one of the first warblers to return each spring – that nests in the region. The two waterthrushes are very similar in appearance. The Louisiana waterthrush has a heavier bill and a white eye line, while the Northern waterthrush’s eye line is usually somewhat yellowish-beige. A Louisiana waterthrush typically also has a whiter belly and underparts.

The two waterthrushes are the only species in the genus Parkesia, so named to honor American ornithologist Kenneth C. Parkes, who was for many years Curator of Birds at Carnegie Museum of Natural History.

The common name of the Louisiana waterthrush is not a very apt one, as this bird does not have any special affinity for the state of Louisiana. Someone collected some of the early specimens of the Louisiana waterthrush in its namesake location, and the name has stuck through the years.

According to the website All About Birds, Northern waterthrushes are numerous, and their population has grown by an estimated 54% since 1970. Partners in Flight estimates the global breeding population at 17 million. The species rates an 8 out of 20 on the Continental Concern Score, indicating it is a species of low conservation concern.

Songbirds usually lead brief lives, but the oldest recorded Northern waterthrush was at least 8 years, 11 months old when it was recaptured and re-released during banding operations in Michigan in 1987, according to All About Birds. The bird had been banded originally in Ontario, Canada, in 1978.

Northern waterthrushes migrate through the region throughout October, so there’s still a window open for seeing one. Search near quiet water surrounded by thickets and listen for that chip note.

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

Early artist and naturalist John James Audubon painted this Louisiana waterthrush.

Ovenbird is season’s first returning warbler

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By Hans Toom from Pixabay • A patch of orange feathers on the crown of an overbid’s head often goes unseen. This shy and retiring bird is more often heard than seen.

It’s gotten to be a bit of a guessing game every spring about which of the warblers will be the first to return to my home.

In 2021, the first warbler to return in the spring was a male Northern parula that arrived on April 9. In 2022, this same species was the first to return, albeit a few days later than the previous year’s date.

The Northern parula didn’t used to be one of the first returning warblers at my home. That honor used to go to hooded warbler or black-throated green warbler. This year, an ovenbird beat all of its kin to arrive on Friday, April 7, in the woodlands around my home, followed a few days later by a black-throated green warbler. This year’s first hooded warbler was a bit tardy and didn’t return until April 23.

The ovenbird is not one of the brightly colored warblers, such as black-throated blue warbler or yellow warbler. The ovenbird is a small brown bird with a white breast marked with dark streaking — an appearance that bears a superficial resemblance to the larger thrushes that share the same woodland habitat. The only hint of color is an orange crown patch bordered by dark stripes atop the bird’s head. Even this orange crown patch is not easily seen. When agitated, an ovenbird may raise its head feathers, which makes this orange mark easier to detect. The ovenbird also shows a distinct white ring around each eye, as well as pink legs and a pinkish bill.

By Hans Toom from Pixabay • The ovenbird gets its name from the shape of its nest, which is said to resemble an old-fashioned Dutch oven.

The resemblance to North America’s brown thrushes didn’t go unnoticed by some early American naturalists. Painter and famous naturalist John James Audubon painted a pair of ovenbirds, which he knew as “golden-crowned thrushes.” When comparing the two names, one can’t help but wish that the inaccurate but more romantically descriptive golden-crowned thrush had stuck.

Unfortunately, ovenbirds are stubborn about letting themselves be seen. They’re easily heard. The males begin singing a loud, rollicking “Teacher! Teacher! Teacher” song almost as soon as they arrive on potential nesting grounds.

The ovenbird, unlike many warblers, is not named for its appearance. Instead, the bird’s name derives from the shape of the nest it builds. The nest is a domed structure placed on the ground, woven from vegetation and containing a side entrance. Early European settlers in North America thought the nest looked like a Dutch oven, hence the name “ovenbird” for the small warbler with the intricate nest.

In April and continuing into May, a couple of dozen warbler species will pass through Tennessee. Some of these warblers find area woodlands and other habitats to their liking. They will pause, explore and perhaps decide to spend their summer nesting season in Northeast Tennessee and Western North Carolina rather than continue migrating farther north.

Many of the warblers that pass through each spring, however, are destined to travel a much longer distance before settling down in their favored habitats for the summer nesting season. These warblers include the Tennessee warbler, Nashville warbler, Cape May warbler, blackpoll warbler and Connecticut warbler. Most of these species nest as far north as New England and Canada.

Others find the Southern Appalachians to their liking. Some of the first warblers to return each year include the Louisiana waterthrush, which favors rushing mountain streams, as well as species such as black-throated green warbler, hooded warbler, ovenbird, black-and-white warbler, worm-eating warbler and common yellowthroat.

The Northern parula offers an abundance of identifying characteristics. Adult males are bluish gray overall with a yellow-green patch on the back and two white wingbars. A chestnut band separates the male’s bright yellow throat and chest. Adult females are often a bit paler and typically lack the male’s breast band. Both males and females have distinctive white eye crescents.

Most warblers lead frenetic lives. They often sing high in the tops of trees, but they do occasionally venture closer to the ground, particularly when foraging for prey, which consists of a variety of insects and small spiders. The Northern parula is even more restless than most of its kin.

The more reliable means of locating a Northern parula is to listen for the male’s buzzy, ascending song. He is a persistent singer from the time of his arrival until mid-summer.

A quirk involving nesting material is somewhat unique to this warbler. In much of the southern United States, the Northern parula conceals its nest inside strands of Spanish moss draped from the limbs of live oaks and other trees. In the Southern Appalachians and other locations farther to the north, the absence of Spanish moss means that the birds rely on various Usnea lichens, which are sometimes referred to as “Old Man’s Beard.”

A pair of Northern parulas will attempt to raise two broods in a nesting season. The female lays two to seven eggs and does most of the nest construction.

Look for spring’s warblers in the coming weeks. Feel free to share any sightings with me by emailing ahoodedwarbler@aol.com.

Photo by Bryan Stevens • The Northern parula’s geographic location during the nesting season determines its use of nesting materials.

 

Black-throated green warbler a success story for New World warbler family

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Photo by Howard Walsh/Pixabay • The black-throated green warbler nests in local mountains in coniferous and mixed woodlands during the summer months. Once the nesting season concludes, these warblers wing their way back to wintering grounds in Mexico and Central America, as well as the West Indies and southern Florida.

How can it be August already?

Yes, the pace of summer seems to have quickened. Tomatoes are ripening in the gardens, late summer flowers are blooming, and the birds have pushed their young out of the nest and are teaching them to fend for themselves.

I heard a chip note sound from a mimosa tree in my front yard on the evening of July 26. I scanned the foliage and saw the darting movements of a warbler. Without binoculars, I couldn’t determine the bird’s identity. Fortunately, my binoculars were in my parked car, so retrieving them was easy enough. With binoculars trained on the mimosa tree, I relocated the bird and identified a young black-throated green warbler. The faint black coloration on the bird’s throat pointed to the bird’s young age.

I’m hopeful that the successful nesting represented by the bird’s presence is extended farther into the future. I hope the bird makes its first fall migration without incident, spends the winter in a warmer climate and then returns to Simerly Creek Road in Northeast Tennessee next spring.

I watched as the bird successfully snapped up some caterpillars hidden in the green foliage of the mimosa tree. This young bird had the look of a survivor in my eyes.

Male black-throated green warblers are persistent singers. The website “All About Birds” describes the song, which is a series of buzzy notes, as “trees, trees, I love trees!” For a bird so associated with the treetops, I feel that’s an apt description.

Perhaps a couple of months earlier, the mother of this young black-throated green warbler constructed a nest of twigs, bark and spider silk. She would have carefully lined the nest with hair and moss before laying three to five eggs. She would then have incubated her eggs for 12 days. 

Once the eggs hatched, she and her mate would spend the next 10 to 11 days feeding hungry chicks until the chicks mature enough to leave the nest. Even after departing the nest, the young would remain with the parents for help in gleaning their food of insects and their larvae. 

The black-throated green warbler is a fortunate member of the family of New World warblers. Between 1970 and 2014, according to Partners in Flight, the population of black-throated green warblers actually increased. The group estimates a global population of 8.7 million individuals for the species.

Many of their warbler kin face declining numbers, and even black-throated green warblers face the consequences of habitat destruction on their wintering grounds and in their nesting range throughout the eastern United States. 

A lot of work goes into completing a bird’s journey from egg to young adult. Seeing any bird is a treat. Seeing a young bird through a pair of binoculars brings all that potential up close.

The black-throated green warbler’s closest kin consist of the hermit warbler and Townsend’s warbler of the western United States and the endangered golden-cheeked warbler of Texas. The warblers consist of more 120 different species. 

These small birds lead active, fast-paced lives. They typically don’t enjoy a lengthy life span. The oldest documented black-throated green warbler was a male that reached the age of at least four years and 11 months. He was banded and found in Nova Scotia, according to All About Birds.

We’re about a month out from the flurry of fall migration. I’ll be keeping my binoculars at the ready the closer we get to September.

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