Bald Knob NWR, Arkansas

This morning started with somewhat of a surprise. There were no set-in-stone plans, so with that unexpected freedom Ted offered to take me to a National Wildlife Refuge I never knew existed. Up the road a bit is the town of Bald Knob, home to the 14,800 acre Bald Knob NWR.

Entering Bald Knob National Wildlife Refuge, established in 1993.

Ted, who grew up in Bald Knob, explained the area used to be all bottomland forest along the Little Red River. It was cleared acre by acre for farmland, primarily rice and soy bean, and at some 20,000 acres in its heyday, it became the largest farm in Arkansas (possibly the midwest, and who knows, possibly the U.S.). But at one point, and under some circumstance, the family lost the farm when the insurance company foreclosed on it. The government eventually purchased it to establish a refuge, predominantly for migratory waterfowl.

A male Scissor-tailed Flycatcher greeted us near the entrance.

It is an amazing refuge with a variety of habitats, which translates into very interesting wildlife watching, especially birding. In our 3 hours on the refuge we saw about 50 species of birds. I bet we would easily have seen more if we got there earlier and spent more time hiking around, but since this was an exploratory trip we mostly cruised along with a couple key stops in different habitat types.

Former rice field growing into shrubby "old field." Look close and you'll see a
Dickcissel perched on a bare stem, near the center of the picture.

One of the first things you notice is how flat the area is, and how the former farmlands are transitioning to shrubby areas. In addition to Killdeer and Mourning Doves we found lots of Dickcissels.

Dickcissel launches off of a young oak tree. The refuge managers are reforesting
4,000 acres of the refuge and there are hundreds of small trees already planted.

Dickcissels are among my favorite birds, probably because we don't regularly see them in the east. Unfortunately, I didn't have a scope so I didn't get any close-up shots of any birds.

A slough populated with cypress trees. Looks a bit like the
Cache River,which isn't too far (as the Ivory-bill flies).

We came to a small slough which looks suspiciously like Ivory-billed Woodpecker habitat. Although connected through various corridors to the White River NWR, this habitat is pretty small and remote. We did see and hear various forest birds (Eastern Wood-pewee, Pileated Woodpecker) along with species that like shrubs (more Dickcissels, Yellow-breasted Chat, Common Yellowthroat).

The Little Red runs on the other side of the levee on the left,

a field of replanted trees on the right.

The road eventually follows the Little Red River for a bit, so we had a riparian forest following the river on one side and flat, shrubby, ex-farmland on the other. That makes for an interesting mix of species: Prothonotary Warblers and Acadian Flycatchers on one side, Indigo Buntings and Field Sparrows on the other.

Black Rat Snake crossing to the other side (I have no answer to "why did he cross?").

He just froze when I got out to photograph him, rather than immediately disappear.

And in the middle? We watched a Black Rat Snake crossing the road. When I got out to take a picture, he just froze and didn't move. As we drove around him he finally disappeared into the grass. This was not our only Black Rat Snake encounter for the day, but the other one is for another post - stay tuned for that one!

The male Ruby-throated Hummingbird was foraging a bit,

then perched, and eventually toppled over backwards.

One of the most interesting parts of the morning was watching a Ruby-throated Hummingbird foraging on a Raspberry bramble. But something was not quite right with him, at one point we thought he was resting, but he just leaned back and kept going - until he fell over backwards. He was still holding on, so he didn't drop, but he was hanging upside down. We thought he had died right in front of our eyes.


I walked in and took him out of the bush, he was still alive but looked pretty out of it - mellow, somewhat drunk. Maybe he'd been feeding on some fermented nectar? Maybe he was actually sick? He sat in Ted's hands for a few moments while I took some pictures, then he lifted off and headed back into the Raspberry bush. We didn't see where he landed, but his flight seemed steady and directed, although we didn't see where he ended up. He plowed right through the bush and disappeared from our view. Hope he is OK!

So, from me, a big thank you to Ted! It was a great morning to be outdoors, especially in such a wonderful area. I can't wait to go back, maybe when all the wintering ducks and Bald Eagles are back. And next time I'll bring a scope so I can digiscope some birds. The full trip list will be posted shortly.

Catch-and-Release

This is not about fish, and not purposefully about humane trapping-and-releasing nuisance mammals. Inadvertently, though, it is.

It started during a heavy bout of landscaping, at a point where I was dispatched to pick up more topsoil; I believe we were planting a winterberry (Ilex verticillata) when this all went down. Whatever the plant, I was behind the garage picking through the pile of "stuff" that has accumulated -- pots, stakes, watering cans, bags of topsoil, mulch, and so on - when I heard some sporadic rustling from a pile of leaves. Buried in the pile was a scrap of deer netting we didn't use last year, and it ensnared an eastern chipmunk (Tamius striatus) , wrapping tightly around its neck. Not unlike this image (note: opens a .jpg file) of Lovelace in Happy Feet.

The chipmunk and associated netting, along with the topsoil that started this whole thing.

I put the entangled mess in the wheelbarrow, along with the topsoil, and called for my wife to grab the camera (I recognize a potential blog post when I see it). After a few minutes of careful snipping, the little bugger was free (and not "dispatched," which is the first thing that came to mind when thinking of what relentless predators they are).

Freeing the chipmunk, though that's not the first option that came to mind.

I just didn't have the heart to do it. So, we'll probably lose a few nests we'll never know about, and we'll likely lose a few plants that we'll eventually notice "went missing." And a deer will probably get the blame.

Migration Celebration

Following the Ithaca Plant Sale (posted about here), we headed up to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology to particpate in the Migration Celebration. I was there to work, standing by my exhibit about studying nocturnal migration, while the family went to play.

Migration Celebration attendees check out my display
about nocturnal flight calls. © Mike Powers 2007

It was a lot of fun, from both standpoints: as a participant and as an exhibitor. First, as a parent: my daughter had a blast. There was face painting, interactive exhibits a three-year-old could handle (planting seeds, and even picking out some birds, like cardinals and goldfinches), not to mention lots of other kids to watch. And perhaps the topper, a live Turkey Vulture, up close and personal.

Rose and her Turkey Vulture entertained anyone
who stopped to chat. © Mike Powers 2007

But not too up close, and not too personal: once upon a time, when I worked for a raptor rehab outfit, I had a very up close and personal interaction, and not a pleasant one. Perhaps fodder for another post.

Then, as an exhibitor, I can say I had a blast. Dozens of folks come by that were extremely interested in learning about migration, particularly what you can't see because it happens when it's dark, and most of us are asleep. (Ah, even more fodder for another post!)

It's always refreshing to talk with so many people about birds, on so many different levels, especially when you see the interest in their eyes, hear the excitement in their voices. Discussions I was involved with ranged from nocturnal migration (the topic I was supposed to be presenting) to appropriate nest box dimensions, from bird listing to the best birding books. What an invigorating day!

Paul Miller, Director of Communications and Marketing,
shares a smile with a sapsucker. © Mike Powers 2007

Native Plants

Saturday consisted of two highlights, one right after the other. The first was the annual plant sale at Ithaca high school, the second was the first-annual Migration Celebration at the Lab of Ornithology. The Migration Celebration is fodder for another post, here I want to highlight the plant sale.

The Finger Lakes Native Plant Society's offerings are a must stop. © Mike Powers 2007

We are members of the Finger Lakes Native Plant Society, and even if we weren't their tables would still be our favorite. We've been re-scaping (did I just coin a word, or does that already exist?) our 4 acres, eliminating as many exotic and invasive species and supplementing the natives, all the while reducing the size of our lawn. Perhaps needless to say, but I would like to point out that a predominant goal is to provide food in the form of berries for fall migrants and wintering birds. Naturally, wildflowers that produce nectar for hummingbirds (and insects of all types) and seed-producing wildflowers (coneflower, sunflower, etc) are also part of the big picture.

So many choices . . . . © Mike Powers 2007

We've had a pretty specific target list of plants over the past two years, and this year, when all was said and done, we came home with a nice variety of flowers, shrubs, and trees, including Black Chokeberry (Aronia melanocarpa), Chokecherry (Prunus virginiana), Hackberry (Celtis occidentalis), Winterberry (Ilex verticillata), Spicebush (Lindera benzoin), Purple Coneflower (Echinacea purpurea), Northern Blue Flag (Iris versicolor) and Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis).

Is this it? They took up so much space in the back of the car!
What will they cover in the yard? © Mike Powers 2007

I can't wait to get them all in the ground, then sit back and wait for the birds to come to me!

Spring Field Ornithology - Sapsucker Woods and Hawthorne Orchard

This weekend marked the third and final field trip that I would lead for Spring Field Ornithology, and it promised to be a good one. Earlier in the week, and as late as Thursday, there were numerous local reports (some so local they were right outside my office) of Bay-breasted, Cape May, Tennessee, and Wilson's Warblers. And not just one or two, but in numbers. "The woods are hoppin'!" is how one post described the scene.

We decided the appropriate plan of action would be to first scour Sapsucker Woods, watching the just-leafing-out tree tops for movement, listening for signs of these birds.

There is a relatively short window when these long distant migrants are found in Ithaca on their annual trek north to the boreal forests, the bulk pass through in mid-May. Unfortunately, as we found out during our walk around the Wilson Trail, the woods were not hopping with these species. During the wave of mild, clear nights they departed for points north, and no new ones seemed to arrive.

Kip's Barn at Sapsucker Woods. © Mike Powers 2007
Can you find the ARU placed to record nocturnal migrants?
Hint: it's in the field in front of the barn.

All was not lost. We were surrounded by many breeding species, such as Yellow, Yellow-rumped, and Chestnut-sided Warblers, Baltimore Orioles, American Redstarts, and of course Tree Swallows which use the nest boxes placed on the hill east of Kip's Barn.

We next decided to check out the Hawthorne Orchard. It is like it sounds: a grove of Hawthorne trees, which, when blooming in mid-May, are magnets to birds of all feathers. And not only are there high numbers and high diversity, the canopy is only some 15 to 20 feet high, so the birds are right in front of you: no craning your neck for a glimpse, there is usually ample time to study each one in the front-facing position the human neck is adapted to.

Taking a break from birding to check out a garter snake. © Mike Powers 2007

But with the exception of a single Tennessee Warbler that provided quick and unsatisfying looks for the group (though the song will be forever etched in all of our minds), the Hawthornes were pretty slow. The flowers should be bursting in a few days, which is impressive because they were mere buds just a few days ago. Now that spring is actually progressing it is progressing fast. Hopefully I'll find time to return to the woods mid-week.

After returning home, I took a quick swing around our yard, venturing into the shrubby old field that borders us. Nothing new or unusual to report, but I did manage a shot of a Prairie Warbler. Given that I was some 30 yards away handholding my camera I'm pretty pleased that it's at least identifiable. Maybe I'll head back and try a digiscope this week.

Male Prairie Warbler advertising his territory, and his availability. © Mike Powers 2007

Trip List - Lindsay-Parsons Biodiversity Preserve

Here is the trip list from last Saturday's SFO trip to the Lindsay-Parsons Biodiversity Preserve. Obviously, it was a good day for a bunch of newly-arrived birds for me, particularly warblers.

Interestingly, and satisfyingly, discussions with a West Danby birder following the trip support my hunch that the mystery songster is a Hooded Warbler. The Hoodies at L-P often sing an inverted song, like "tawee tawee TEE-weeta," not the expected "weeta weeta weeTEE-oh." The last burst in the variant song could very well be what we heard.

More about this trip was posted earlier.

So, mystery not completely resolved, like it could have been if we had tracked down and seen the bird singing, but I'm content. And perhaps a bit more confident in my gut reaction again.

SFO Local Trip
Observation date: 5/5/07
Location: Lindsay-Parsons FLLT Preserve
Observers: 10 in my group; co-leader Dave Nutter took another 10 on a different route.
Notes: SFO local trip to Lindsay Parsons Biodiversity Preserve, co-leader Dave Nutter. Possible Hooded Warbler heard, but only once and not confirmed. Subsequent postings on Cayugabirds-L and "off-line" discussion supports identity of the mystery songster as Hooded Warbler.
Total: 46 species - new birds for the year are in bold

Canada Goose
Mallard
Great Blue Heron
Red-tailed Hawk
Solitary Sandpiper
Spotted Sandpiper
Rock Pigeon
Mourning Dove
Belted Kingfisher
Red-bellied Woodpecker
Downy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker (Yellow-shafted)
Great Crested Flycatcher
Eastern Kingbird
Blue-headed Vireo
Blue Jay
American Crow
Tree Swallow
Barn Swallow
Black-capped Chickadee
Ruby-crowned Kinglet
American Robin
Gray Catbird
Brown Thrasher
European Starling
Blue-winged Warbler
Nashville Warbler
Yellow Warbler
Chestnut-sided Warbler
Prairie Warbler
Black-and-white Warbler
Ovenbird
Louisiana Waterthrush
Common Yellowthroat
Eastern Towhee
Field Sparrow
Vesper Sparrow
Song Sparrow
White-throated Sparrow
Dark-eyed Junco (Slate-colored)
Northern Cardinal
Rose-breasted Grosbeak
Red-winged Blackbird
Common Grackle
Brown-headed Cowbird
American Goldfinch

Spring Field Ornithology - Lindsay-Parsons Biodiversity Preserve

Once again I spent a fabulous morning leading a field trip to a local site while the rest of the Spring Field Ornithology class made an early (very early) morning trip afar, this time to Braddock Bay Bird Observatory near Rochester, NY. Dave Nutter, the other trip leader, brilliantly suggested we spend the morning at the Lindsay-Parsons Biodiversity Preserve, 500 acres of lakes, forest, streams, meadows, and wetlands 20 minutes south of Ithaca. I've read about this hotspot dozens, maybe hundreds, of times on the local listserve, but it's just far enough of the way that I've never visited. After today's trip I know I'll be back.

SFO group anxiously waiting for a Blue-winged Vireo to appear.

I scored some dozen "first of the year" birds, happily pushing me into the throes of spring. I've still been hanging on to late-winter based on the birds present on our hill, like the White-throated Sparrows that are still slowly departing. But the songs of the Great Crested Flycatcher, Louisiana Waterthrush and other warblers, including Chestnut-sided, Black-and-white, Blue-winged, Prairie, and Ovenbird were not only new for the year, but made the air that much warmer, the sun shine that much softer, the budding plants that much greener, and the blue in the sky that much deeper. They made it spring.

The high, or low, point, depending on how you look at it, was a quick burst of a loud, clear, unrecognizable song that we heard just as we were turning back (we needed to leave promptly at 11:00, which meant we'd have to haul back through the fields and not stop for anything new).

The song was familiar, sort of. It certainly didn't jump out like the Great-crested or the Ovenbird, I couldn't even pull it from the deep recesses of my mind, that piece that stores the not-so-distinct or easily-confused songs, like Chestnut-sided Warbler (which I have to think about to make sure it's not a Magnolia or Hooded Warbler). Usually with some conscious process-of-elimination tactics I can get there, but this one left me stumped. I waited for someone in the class to offer their thoughts but got nothing but expectant looks. Until someone finally broke the silence.

"Um, so, what was that?"

"Hell if I know" my inner voice (I hope it was my inner voice!) muttered. Out loud I mumbled something along the lines of, "Oh, that was interesting. That's not its normal song." Like I had already confidently identified it and I was going to use it as a teachable moment so that they would always identify such a sound. Inside I was squirming, "Please, sing again! And not that abbreviated piece, do whatever the classic version is supposed to be: whatever the Stokes recorded, whatever the Peterson Guide teaches . . . ."

Nothing but silence, not even a vireo to divert attention.

After several awkward moments a thought, not quite an epiphany, crept through. The voice, not the words of the song, but the quality, was Hooded Warbler-ish. But the habitat didn't look right, and it definitely wasn't the expected, "weeta weeta weeTEE-oh," but some shortened, mangled version. But the more I thought about it, the more I suspected it was a Hoodie, and I realized this was dangerous ground. By the time I got home I would have convinced myself it was a Hooded, I would list it, and it would be part of the permanent record.

So I did make it a teachable moment, but probably not the one the group expected or wanted. I reiterated a theme I bring up consistently: variation. Not all members of a species look like what Sibley drew or Kaufmann photoshopped, and that goes even more so for song. It seems very few birds sing what's expected. The mnemonics work to a point, and better for some species than others, but are often unreliable.

I don't know who first articulated this enlightening approach to song identification, but the best strategy is to learn the voice of the bird, not what it's saying. You know which friend is calling your name without looking, and if they are reciting a Shakespearean sonnet you'd still recognize their voice. Same approach: get to know the voice, ignore the words. (But if they do say the right words, like "Oh Sweet Canada, Canada, Canada," that's certainly a good clue.)

Final message: it's OK to have observed a bird and leave it unidentified, and thus endeth the lesson.

But boy, my gut was trying to tell my head that it really was my first Hooded Warbler for the year . . . .

They Say It's Good Luck

On my way home tonight I made a quick stop by the Horseheads Marsh (bird list below). It was partially for the birding, but mostly to stretch my back.

Really. I don't think I'm turning into a hypochondriac, but my lower back starting cramping half way home, I had all I could stand by the time I was passing the marsh. I figured I could stop to stretch it out a bit and hopefully pacify whatever was ravaging my body, be it unrelenting cancerous growths, organ failure(s), or what have you. Or maybe I'm watching too much "House" these days?

Regardless, I stood on the Hump and scoped north, then south, recording the species I observed in my notebook, all the while stretching side-to-side and back-and-forth. Swallows abounded, passing above me, next to me, and sometimes lower than me, as they moved from the north pool to the southern ones. Not a record setting high count; on cold, spring days I've recorded hundreds of swallows. Today there were several dozen, mostly Tree Swallows, but also Northern Rough-winged and Bank Swallows in lesser numbers.

I was enjoying the experience of birds flying next to me, sometimes within a few feet. And then it hit me. Literally.

A suspect perched on a nestbox. © Mike Powers 2007

Something warm and slick landed on my neck, in between my hairline and collar. It took me a moment to realize what had just happened, was it a bug that got squished? A raindrop? Or . . . the unthinkable: did a bird just poop on me?

OK, it's not unthinkable, and given the amount of time I've been out watching birds fly overhead, it is amazing I've made it this far without such an incident. At least I wasn't staring straight up in awe, mouth agape, at an eagle, osprey, or heron.

That would have been gross.

Location: Horseheads Marsh
Observation date: 5/4/07
Notes: Not sure which species of swallow did it, but while scoping from the
"hump" one pooped on my neck/shoulder.
Total species: 23 - new birds for the year are in bold

Canada Goose
Wood Duck
Mallard
Great Blue Heron
Killdeer
Lesser Yellowlegs
Solitary Sandpiper
Spotted Sandpiper
Wilson's Snipe
Ring-billed Gull
Mourning Dove
Tree Swallow
Northern Rough-winged Swallow
Bank Swallow
Northern Mockingbird
European Starling
Yellow Warbler
Yellow-rumped Warbler
Song Sparrow
Swamp Sparrow
Northern Cardinal
Red-winged Blackbird
Common Grackle

This report was generated automatically by eBird v2

Trip List - Ithaca locations

Boy, with everything that's been going on I'm way behind. I already wrote about the highlights of the recent Spring Field Ornithology trip I lead (with Jay McGowan), and now I'm finally posting the cumulative trip list. I will do this with all my birding trips, and I'll try to be better about the timing!

I highlighted my "first of the year" birds in bold. You can tell a couple of things: I haven't birded much outside of my immediate area, and some birds are slowly arriving. So birds like Carolina Wren that do occur around here, just not on our hill, were new due to the former, and birds like Yellow-bellied Sapsucker and Ruby-crowned Kinglet were new due to the latter.

More about this trip was posted earlier.

More to come -- I lead another trip this weekend and I'm hoping for a good show of newly arrived migrants.

SFO Local Trip
Date: 21 April 2007
Location(s): New York, Ithaca: Sapsucker Woods, Ithaca City Cemetery, Stewart Park
Observers: 15, co-leader was Jay McGowan
Total: 59 species - new birds for the year are in bold

Canada Goose
Wood Duck
Mallard
Blue-winged Teal
Green-winged Teal
Ring-necked Duck
Greater Scaup
Lesser Scaup
Bufflehead
Common Merganser
Red-breasted Merganser
Common Loon
Double-crested Cormorant
Great Blue Heron
Sharp-shinned Hawk
Red-tailed Hawk
Merlin
Killdeer
Ring-billed Gull
Herring Gull
Rock Pigeon
Mourning Dove
Belted Kingfisher
Red-bellied Woodpecker
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker
Downy Woodpecker
Hairy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker
Pileated Woodpecker
Eastern Phoebe
Blue Jay
American Crow
Tree Swallow
Barn Swallow
Black-capped Chickadee
Tufted Titmouse
Red-breasted Nuthatch
White-breasted Nuthatch
Carolina Wren
Golden-crowned Kinglet
Ruby-crowned Kinglet
Eastern Bluebird
American Robin
European Starling
American Pipit
Chipping Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Swamp Sparrow
White-throated Sparrow
Dark-eyed Junco
Northern Cardinal
Red-winged Blackbird
Rusty Blackbird
Common Grackle
Brown-headed Cowbird
Purple Finch
House Finch
American Goldfinch
House Sparrow