April 2020

Front Cover: April 2020

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:14 GMT

ABOUT THE COVER ARTIST

John Sill is a freelance wildlife artist living in the mountains of North Carolina. He was the illustrator for the Bird Identification Calendar for Mass Audubon for many years. His work has appeared in Birds In Art at the Leigh-Yawkey Woodson Art Museum, Wausau, Wisconsin, and in Art of the Animal Kingdom at the Bennington Center for the Arts in Vermont. He continues to illustrate the "About" and "About Habitats" series of natural history books for children written by his wife Cathryn.

Snowy Egret

The Snowy Egret (Egretta thula) in its elegant breeding plumage is as bright and spectacular as its early human history is dark and unsettling. During the last two decades of the nineteenth century and the first decade of the twentieth, Snowy Egrets were relentlessly hunted during breeding season for their nuptial plumes to decorate ladies’ hats. The Snowy Egret was pushed to the brink of extinction. The passage of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918 ended the slaughter of the plume trade in the United States but it continued in South America for some time. The recovery of the species has been remarkable. In Massachusetts, it was a rare vagrant until the 1950s when Snowy Egrets first nested, and they have gradually increased in numbers since then.

The Snowy Egret is a medium-sized heron with white plumage. Breeding adults have black bills and legs and bright yellow feet and lores. Nonbreeding birds have greenish yellow feet, the color extending up the back of the legs, and have gray in the bill. During breeding season, adults have long, elegant, plumes on their breast, back, and crown that are the basis for the spectacular nuptial displays that characterize the species, and at the height of the breeding season, the yellow of the lores and feet turn orangish to bright red. Immature Little Blue Herons also have white plumage but have gray lores, a gray bill tipped with black, and lack the yellow slippers. Two poorly defined subspecies are generally recognized. E. t. thula is found in eastern North America, Central, and South America; E. t. brewsteri, with a larger bill, is restricted to western North America. Individual variations in all populations make regional comparisons difficult.

Some Snowy Egret breeding populations are migratory, for example, in the East along the coast from Maine to Maryland. Year-round populations are found along the coast from Maryland south through Florida and the Caribbean Islands, west along the Gulf Coast to Texas, on both coasts of Mexico, and Central America. Migratory breeding populations also occur in scattered small areas across the United States with several located in the Great Lakes region. Other such populations occur in larger areas across East Texas and Oklahoma, east to Georgia, and in the west across Nevada and into several other western states. Several populations of year-round breeders also occur in California. Most wintering birds occur along the coast of California and in patches throughout Mexico and Central America. In late summer after breeding, Snowy Egrets may disperse widely; they have been recorded throughout the United States and southern Canada. In Massachusetts, the Snowy Egret is considered a locally common breeder and a common to occasionally abundant migrant. It can also be a common summer visitor. Snowy Egrets arrive in Massachusetts from late March to May, with numbers peaking in late August and early September. In the fall, they leave by November.

Snowy Egrets are probably seasonally monogamous. Pair formation occurs at the nest site where males perform a variety of nuptial displays that often showcase their remarkable plumes. The most prominent is the stretch display with bill pointed skyward and the body pumped up and down while uttering a wah-wah-wah call. Aerial displays include a version of the stretch display, and circle and tumbling flights. One bird may jump over the other. Males also give a gurgling call. Aggressive displays include crest-raising accompanied by rasping calls. Attacks may be made with body held forward and plumes fully erected.

Snowy Egrets breed in mixed species colonies, often on isolated offshore islands near their estuarine tidal foraging areas. They frequently utilize dredge-spoil islands. Away from the coast, they may nest on islands in freshwater lakes, marshes, swamps, and along rivers. Breeding colonies in Massachusetts are largely on offshore islands. Most nests are on large tree branches six feet or more from the ground, but also occur in shrubs and occasionally on the ground. Females do most of the nest building, often with material brought in by the male. The nest is composed mostly of sticks and twigs and is lined with grass and moss, typically with a shallow depression. Both parents incubate the 3–5 greenish blue eggs for the 22–24 days until hatching. At hatching, chicks are covered with down but are helpless. Both parents incubate the chicks for about 10 days until the chicks can leave the nest. Both parents feed the nestlings, initially regurgitating well-digested food onto the floor of the nest and later directly into the chick’s bill. The chicks often disperse at about age two weeks and remain in or near the colony for up to two months.

Snowy Egrets often forage in mixed-species flocks in salt marshes and tidal pools, channels, and flats and in the South among mangroves. They are more versatile feeders than any other North American heron with a broad spectrum of foraging behaviors that include disturbing and chasing, standing, walking slowly or quickly, running, hopping, foot-stirring, and in flight, hovering and dipping. They also leapfrog feed, where birds at the rear of the foraging flock fly to the front. Many of their foraging behaviors take advantage of their bright yellow feet, which apparently act as lures to prey. Snowy Egrets feed mostly on small fish and crustaceans but take a wide variety of prey, including earthworms, insects, frogs, snakes, and crabs.

Nesting Snowy Egrets experience nest predation by raccoons, snakes, owls, and crows. Islands have become the favored location for breeding colonies in Massachusetts due to limited access by mammalian predators. Nestlings are also at risk from pesticides and storms, and other heron species may occasionally lay their eggs in Snowy Egret nests. Individual breeding colonies are subject to fluctuations in breeding success, but the dramatic population recovery in the twentieth century and the shift to predominantly island breeding suggests that the Snowy Egret is adaptable and likely secure.

William E. Davis, Jr.

Hot Birds: April 2020

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:13 GMT

On January 15, Neil Dowling was chasing reports of Snow and Greater White-fronted geese in cornfields near Rochester, and though he missed those, he came across two Barnacle geese instead! The pair spent the next two months wandering between those fields and Acushnet, where they were spotted feeding on a golf course and resting on the river and a lake upstream. Several birders later saw the Snow, Pink-footed, and Barnacle geese all in the same flock. At least one drake Eurasian Wigeon, originally spotted in mid-October in Somerset, also made the rounds through late February in the same locations as the Tundra Swan and various rare geese. Neil took the photo above.

Massachusetts harbored at least four Mew Gulls this winter. A banded bird of the European subspecies and an unbanded one of the Asian subspecies showed up at their usual winter haunts in southeastern Essex County. Jan Smith and Lynn Ferraresso spotted the first one January 18 at Lynn Beach, and Andy Sanford noticed both of them together January 31 at King’s Beach. One or the other continued through February 23, including one appearance out in Nahant. In the meantime, Joel and Matthew Eckerson found another European “Common” Gull on January 20 at Gooseberry Neck, and Matthew Sweet picked up a Mew of uncertain subspecies at Lake Massapoag on February 3. Neil Dowling took the photo of the Common Gull above.

Coastal Birding from Wareham to the Cape Cod Canal

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:12 GMT

Weweantic River

Begin the Wareham area birding route at the Weweantic River bridge (A), which is accessible from a pulloff on Route 6. (See Map 1. Overview.) Named by the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe, the Weweantic and its short tributary, the Sippican River, were once important runs for diadromous fish but have been blocked by dams. Recently, the Buzzards Bay Coalition has developed plans to dismantle some of the dams in order to restore the flow between salt and fresh water and recreate the productive spawning routes as well as enhance the overall health of the waterway.

The bridge is a good spot to check for Barrow's Goldeneye in winter, with multiple individuals having been seen in recent years. They accompany the regular assortment of waterfowl: Buffleheads, Hooded Mergansers, and Common Goldeneyes. The flow of water under the bridge keeps this part of the river from icing over during the most frigid weather, so check the area even when other nearby waterways are frozen because occasionally you may find large concentrations of birds.

Cape Cod Canal Railroad Bridge and Bourne Bridge from Massachusetts Maritime Academy. All photographs by the author.

In the warmer months, birding by kayak or canoe is the way to go. Tides generally are not a concern this far up in Buzzards Bay, so timing the tide is not necessary. There is a small trail from the pulloff on Route 6 that you can use to launch a boat, or you can use the boat launch down River Road just south of the bridge. Once on the water, you can follow the main channel of the Weweantic River until the dam at Horseshoe Mill or take the small tributary on the left, the Sippican River. Both are worth exploring. While paddling along the river, listen for songbirds singing in the forest and Marsh Wrens, locally uncommon in Buzzards Bay, in the cattails and phragmites. In early spring and fall, the phragmites and cattails are also productive spots for rails and other migrating marsh birds.

You can find diamondback terrapins by paddling into the small marsh between the marina and the parking area off of Interstate 195 (I-195). The diamondback terrapin is the only North American turtle that is endemic to estuarine areas; it is classified as vulnerable federally and threatened in Massachusetts.

In the fall, lots of baitfish get pushed up into the river, followed by hungry striped bass. It is not unusual to see a few stripers hitting topwater, so for the birder who enjoys a bit of fishing, a rod and reel are worth bringing along for a double-whammy of outdoor fun. Flocks of terns, Double-crested Cormorants, and Greater Yellowlegs accompany the bass upstream.

From the parking area on Route 6, travel north for one mile, then turn right on Cromesett Road. In 0.33 mile turn left onto Terry Lane East. Take the first left onto Christopher Drive, then turn right in 600 feet onto Wright Lane. At the end of Wright Lane, turn left onto Dennis Lane. Take the first right onto Camardo Drive. In 200 feet, Camardo Drive curves right and becomes Nicholas Drive. Follow this for 0.3 mile to the gate and parking area for Mark's Cove Conservation Area (B).

Mark's Cove Conservation Area

A fine example of how cooperation among conservation organizations can result in large-scale land acquisition, this 118-acre area with two-and-one-half miles of trails is a conglomeration of parcels owned by Buzzards Bay Coalition, Wareham Land Trust, Wildlands Trust, Mass Audubon, and the Town of Wareham. A copy of the trail map can be found here: www.savebuzzardsbay.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/map_marks-cove-conservation-area.pdf

Overgrown bogs at Mark's Cove Conservation Area.

The small ponds on either side of the entrance attract Mallards and, occasionally, American Black Ducks or American Wigeons. Beyond the ponds in fall, winter, and spring, the old cranberry bogs—densely overgrown with pines, oaks, and small shrubs—can be teeming with songbirds such as Golden- and Ruby-crowned kinglets and the occasional warbler. The small outflow at the southeastern edge of the bogs is particularly good for semi-hardy lingerers such as Eastern Towhees, Hermit Thrushes, and Gray Catbirds, which are accompanied by the comparatively more common juncos and White-throated Sparrows. In irruption years, the trails into the woods along the bogs can be good for crossbills. The area isn't notably diverse in terms of bird life in the summer, but walking into the forest is almost guaranteed to yield a backdrop of chattering Brown Creepers, Red-breasted Nuthatches, and Pine Warblers, always easy on the ears.

Reverse your route and return to Route 6. Travel north on Route 6 for 0.7 mile, then turn left onto Gibbs Avenue. Turn left onto Main Street, and in 0.9 mile turn left onto Station Street. Follow this to the end to reach Birch Island Conservation Area (C).

Birch Island Conservation Area

The island at Birch Island Conservation Area isn't an island, and there aren't any birches around either. The "island" is a spit of upland forest along an oxbow of the Weweantic River and is owned by the town of Wareham. The Birch Island Conservation Area abuts the Weweantic River Reserve, owned by the Buzzards Bay Coalition. Trails connect the two conservation areas, and from Birch Island you can walk to Horseshoe Mill, an interesting and historic part of the Weweantic River Reserve that provides access to fresh and brackish sections of the river. In addition, Birch Island and Horseshoe Mill offer a diverse array of habitats with mixed conifer and hardwood forests, maple swamp, salt and freshwater marshes, a small weedy field, and a small patch of white cedar swamp.

A copy of the trail map for Birch Island Conservation Area can be found here: https://www.savebuzzardsbay.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/map_birch-island-conservation-area_horseshoe-mill.pdf

These diverse habitats attract a wide variety of birds, making birding productive here year-round. In spring, this trail system is one of the more productive stopovers for migrants in the Wareham area. The short trail in the center of the Birch Island parking lot leading up a hill seems to be the most reliable place for migrants, but keep an eye out for mixed flocks throughout your walk. Follow the loop trail westward along Birch Island, which pretty much parallels the Weweantic River. In summer, this area hosts an assortment of breeding birds. Wood Ducks and Swamp Sparrows frequent the freshwater marsh along the river, and Great Horned Owls nest in the upland forest. Be sure to peek through the trees to look at the river every now and again. Depending on how much the river has receded over the summer, shorebirds or waders such as the occasional Little Blue Heron can be found. In winter, the Weweantic River rarely freezes over completely, making it another worthwhile stop for waterfowl when all the ponds start to freeze. When the trail comes to a T, continue right to reach the weedy field. In fall, this area can be interesting for sparrows. Continuing past the field takes you over the old Horseshoe Mill. Stop here and check the river for ducks and waders. This is also a good spot in the breeding season to look for Baltimore Oriole and Blue-gray Gnatcatcher nests. Belted Kingfishers often can be heard rattling in the brackish marsh to the north. From here you can continue to explore some of the trails into the forest or follow the main trail covered in old slag back to the parking lot.

From Station Street, return to Main Street and take a right. Follow Main Street as it curves slightly to the right, then turn left and make an immediate quick right onto Elm Street. In 500 feet, turn right into the old Tremont Nail Company parking lot (D), and head to the southeast corner to reach your first stop at the Wareham River.

Wareham River

The Wareham River once was a reliable location for Canvasbacks in winter; unfortunately—as in many of the old "Can" ponds—their numbers have dwindled to zero. Nonetheless, this is a fantastic area for observing waterfowl, gulls, and terns from fall through spring. Interestingly, concentrations of each species are faithful to certain locations of the river.

Map 2. Downtown/Wareham River.

The first stop along the Wareham River is where Parker Mills Pond feeds into it. (See Map 2. Downtown/Wareham River.) You can access the water from the parking lot of the old Tremont Nail Company. Waterfowl are typically limited to a group of Mallards—the only reliable spot for them on the river—and a Mute Swan or two, but there are feeders on the opposite side of the river, and the area is lively with songbird activity.

Take a left onto Elm Street, then turn left onto Main Street, which goes straight through downtown Wareham. There are several spots to turn into the downtown parking area, but keep driving through town and turn left into the lot just before the bridge. Park in one of the first spots on the right (E), where you will usually see Common Goldeneyes up close, Hooded Mergansers in the small cove to the east, and groups of Gadwalls and geese in the distance. Depending on the tide, gulls may be out on the mud flat straight ahead or the peninsula that juts out to the left. Be sure to look them over carefully because Iceland and Lesser Black-backed gulls may be in the mix. Keep an eye out for Bald Eagles if all the gulls flush at once, as they are relatively common here and are likely nesting in the area. If you have the time, walk 0.3 mile along the parking area to the train station; there are usually a group or two of American Wigeons and numbers of Mute Swans in the river here.

Forster's Tern.

Return to your car, take a right out of the parking lot, then turn left onto Main Street. Mary Besse Park (F) is approximately 250 feet on the left. You can walk along the river to the bridge, where there are usually several Hooded Mergansers swimming underneath and Red-breasted Mergansers a bit farther out. The birds here will be in close, offering good views. The view of the river at the bridge is practically due north and makes for great lighting conditions for observing the beautiful iridescence of a Bufflehead, goldeneye, or scaup. On several occasions, I have observed a Cooper's Hawk hanging out under the bridge.

Go north on Main Street, turn right onto Route 6, and go over the bridge. Take an immediate slight right at a set of lights onto Narrows Road. In 0.5 mile, take the first right onto Oak Street to a small parking area at a boat launch called Tempest Knob (G). There can be several hundred Buffleheads associating with Greater Scaup here, and Brant frequent this stretch as well. In the fall, large numbers of baitfish attract terns; you can see Common, Roseate, Forster's, and Black terns fishing or loafing on the boats moored in the area.

Drive east on Oak Street for 0.3 mile, and turn right onto Indian Neck Road. In 0.4 mile turn left onto Crooked River Road (which will become Great Neck Road as you continue straight). In 1.75 miles, turn right onto Stockton Short Cut Street. In 0.3 mile, turn right onto Little Harbor Road and follow it until you reach Little Harbor Beach (H). (See Map 1. Overview.)

Nelson's Sparrow.

Little Harbor Beach

Truly a hidden gem, Little Harbor Beach lies tucked away in the sleepy area of Great Neck in Wareham. The beach limits parking to residents only, so visit in the off-season—when the birding is best. A trail at the end of the parking lot goes through the marsh to the inlet, and from there you can walk the beach back to the parking lot. This area is a magnet for random notable species, and you really never know what you will find. Long-billed Dowitchers, American Bitterns, Pacific Loons, Barrow's Goldeneyes, Black Skimmers, Parasitic Jaegers, and even shearwaters (scarce this far up in Buzzards Bay) have shown up here.

More reliably, the tall Spartina grass along the marsh trail is a magnet for Sharp-tailed Sparrows from late September through October, with Nelson's Sparrows being regular. In the early spring, there are usually American Oystercatchers hanging out in the marsh and a Piping Plover or two on the beach. On a day with favorable winds, you can observe a diversity of migrating hawks. In winter, harriers soar above the marsh. You can see the occasional Ipswich Sparrow in the dunes and Horned Larks and Snow Buntings around the edges of the parking lot. Ruddy Turnstones will sometimes mix with Sanderlings and Dunlins along the beach. High tide is best for viewing the decent numbers of waterfowl in the bay because the water is shallow, and on a low tide birds become mere specks on the horizon. Occasionally, large groups of Horned Grebes can be seen in the water along Stony Point Dike to the east, which is a manmade peninsula constructed from the dredgings from the Cape Cod Canal.

From Little Harbor Road, turn left onto Stockton Short Cut Street. Turn left onto Great Neck Road. Follow Great Neck Road for approximately 1.2 miles, bear right at the fork to remain on Great Neck Road, and continue straight for 1.5 miles (Great Neck turns into Depot Road when you cross the railroad tracks). Turn right onto Route 6, follow it for 1.7 miles, then turn left onto Red Brook Road. In 0.8 mile, you will arrive at the Lyman Reserve (I); there is a parking lot on the left side of the road.

Lyman Reserve and Buttermilk Bay

Buttermilk Bay is the northernmost saltwater body in Buzzards Bay. It is thought that Buttermilk Bay had been a kettle pond that was breached by Buzzards Bay. Red Brook is critical to the migration and spawning of sea-run brook trout. Owned by the Trustees of Reservations, Lyman Reserve features a 1.5-mile loop trail that goes through upland woodlands, pine barrens, and marshland, parallels the stream, and leads to Buttermilk Bay. Another 0.25-mile trail loops along the sandy beach.

A copy of the trail map can be found here: http://www.thetrustees.org/assets/documents/places-to-visit/trailmaps/Lyman-Trail-Map.pdf

Cross the road and walk the short trail to the overlook and beach for a good view of Buttermilk Bay, which is rich with baitfish. Waders such as Great Blue Herons and Great Egrets hunt along the shoreline. In late July through fall, be sure to scan the marsh at the outflow of Red Brook, which is a favored location of Yellow-crowned Night-Herons. In winter, diving ducks collect fish and shellfish, and dabbling ducks feast on vegetation along the edges of the bay. When you return to the parking lot, take the trail along Red Brook, which features some nice (albeit small) segments of cattail marsh. As you walk, listen for Belted Kingfishers, Marsh Wrens, and Swamp Sparrows, and take a minute to appreciate the crystal-clear waters of the stream. After the first bridge, the trail up the hill on the left leads to a managed pine barrens stand. Here, you may encounter Prairie Warblers, Field Sparrows, goldfinches, and towhees in season; it is a good spot to check for finches in irruptive winters. Follow the trail through the sparse pitch pines to get down toward the river; follow it toward the road and back over the bridge to return to the parking area.

When you leave Lyman Reserve, turn left (east) on Red Brook Road, which in approximately 0.1 mile becomes Head of the Bay Road. In 0.4 mile, you will reach the large dirt parking area for Pine Ridge Road Beach (J). Park here and scan Buttermilk Bay. This is a good alternative to walking the trail to the water at Lyman Reserve in inclement weather, and the marshes in this little cove can be another haunt of Yellow-crowned Night-Herons in late summer.

Continue east on Head of the Bay Road for 1.3 miles, and take a sharp right onto Old Head of the Bay Road to access Little Buttermilk Bay. There are a few pulloffs on the right side of the road (K) that provide views of the bay that are not visible from the other two vantage points. Because the water is shallow near the shore, it can be productive for dabbling ducks and geese, but it is deep enough farther out for diving ducks and loons, too.

Follow Old Head of the Bay Road east until it reconnects with Head of the Bay Road, and turn right. Follow Head of the Bay Road for approximately 1.3 miles, and at the traffic circle, take the second right onto Main Street. In 1.0 mile, turn left at the first set of lights onto Academy Drive, and travel 0.7 mile to the Massachusetts Maritime Academy (Mass Maritime) (L).

Common Eiders.

Mass Maritime

Mass Maritime Academy sits at the western terminus of the Cape Cod Canal. On the coldest days of winter, this is a great spot to bird by car. The campus here is generally quiet, and parking is available past the gate and along the canal year-round. Park here and walk along the sidewalk beyond the cul-de-sac at the end of the parking lot to reach a small beach.

In the warmer months, American Oystercatchers hunt for shellfish in the shallow waters along the beach, and terns often chase baitfish that are sucked in and out of the canal. The prime season here, though, is when things begin to cool off in late fall through early spring. The mouth of the canal and surrounding waters are a great spot to find a good diversity of waterfowl. The sheer number of Common Eiders— hundreds, if not thousands—paddling in this part of the canal in winter is a fantastic sight. You can see—or photograph—eiders in many plumages and observe a variety of behaviors at close range. Scan carefully for a King Eider in the mix. Around sunset you can watch as, group by group, eiders fly out of the canal to roost at sea for the night, a fantastic sight to end a day of birding.

Food, Facilities, and Other Birding Resources

Though there is a bit of a tourist presence in Wareham area, there is also a stable year-round population, so most shops and restaurants stay open throughout the year. The Target Plaza off I-195 in Wareham has a few places to eat, and there are bathrooms and a Starbucks inside Target. There are also several dining options in downtown Wareham. The Narrows is a nice spot for lunch and overlooks the Wareham River. Onset also has several places to eat and is a quaint little village. To bird other conservation areas not mentioned in this article, check out Wareham Land Trust at http://warehamlandtrust.org/properties/ and Buzzards Bay Coalition's website, which has a fantastic compilation of conservation areas in the Buzzards Bay area at https://www.savebuzzardsbay.org/places-to-go/

Nate Marchessault is an avid birder and wannabe naturalist from Falmouth, Massachusetts. When he's not soliciting people for Where to Go Birding articles for Bird Observer he usually can be found leisurely strolling outdoors enjoying the flora and fauna of Cape Cod and the surrounding area. He is president of South Shore Bird Club and enjoys co-leading walks with other conservation organizations to educate and inspire those interested in birds and nature.

Mealworms—How Scrumptious

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:11 GMT

The Mass Audubon Breeding Bird Atlases (Petersen and Meservey 2003) and (Walsh and Petersen 2013) show an increase in Eastern Bluebird breeding presence by topographic block of about 300%; from 174 blocks to 524:

Demonstrating an impressive resiliency and acting as an icon for the conservation movement, the recovery of the Eastern Bluebird represented the product of the hard work of thousands of volunteers across the eastern United States. Increasing from 254 to 713 occupied blocks from Atlas 1 to Atlas 2, their recovery was impressive. Confirmation rates skyrocketed for the species, from 18% to 50% as nest boxes became commonplace on the landscape making the species even more obvious as it went about its housekeeping duties. Examining only the effort-controlled blocks, one of the remarkable features of this species was its stability – it was only lost from 37 blocks where it was found during Atlas 1. The species was widespread across all regions, and occupied more than 40% of each and every region in the state. (Walsh and Petersen 2013)

It matters little that the great majority of these boxes house nesting Tree Swallows or House Wrens. The Tree Swallows, especially, are a nice addition to any landscape.

When we had boxes up for Eastern Bluebirds at the Daniel Webster Wildlife Sanctuary in Marshfield, Massachusetts in the 1980s and 1990s (and currently), it was never a certainty that bluebirds would use them. The two aforementioned species would use them and some years a pair or two of bluebirds would as well. In most years, there would be bluebirds on the property in January, February, March, and April, but they would often disappear during what seemed to be the best time for nesting. In some years they would reappear in July and nest. It seemed as if it was a second nest in a second location, but there was no way to test that idea. We were just happy to have them back.

Bluebirds get a lot of their food by sallying—sitting on a perch and dropping down to catch their prey and flying back up to the perch. The food item is often a beetle, as evidenced by the droppings that sometimes glisten with shiny beetle wings (elytra). Providing bluebirds with beetles is hard to duplicate in a home birdfeeding operation, but I thought that they must like mealworms—doesn't everyone!

We ordered mealworms, thousands of mealworms. We sent for medium and large and a few giants. They arrived quickly and we dropped them into the container where they would live quite happily until they were offered up to the hungry avian world.

The housing required is modest—any plastic or glass container will do. Mealworms don't climb so the container needs to be only a few inches tall. A kitty litter box is large enough for a huge number of mealworms; start smaller. We use a small plastic storage box designed (probably) to pack away sweaters in the summer, but a similar box for a pair of shoes is fine for hundreds and hundreds of mealworms. A plastic bucket works just fine. Remember, they are small and don't need privacy.

The food and bedding are one and the same. We use nonmedicated chick starter or wheat bran, which is only about $5.00 for a bag big enough to last most of the winter. Any bran, wheat, or pulverized cereal or dry dog food will work also. Preparing the housing and food is a one-time task; you pour in the feed and add the worms —done. Keep them cool, however, as they will metamorphose if fed and kept warm. Ours live in the garage at about 45–50 degrees. This keeps their metabolism low and prevents pupation, and they will survive for months at this temperature. The pupa will eventually turn into a small black beetle. If you have a smallish number of mealworms in something like a feta cheese or cottage cheese plastic tub, keep them in the refrigerator if your significant other will allow. They won't wander around.

A bowl of mealworms.

Bring the mealworms into your living space once a week, warm them up, and feed them with carrot, potato, or apple peelings. This gives them a busy day of eating and perhaps molting. We take apple or carrot peelings or a very thin slice of potato every now and then, especially during the warm period, and lay it on the surface of the feed. The worms will wiggle their way in and under the slice where they gain access to a bit of new food and moisture. Don't keep anything too wet in the container because there is always the chance of mold developing, as with cheese left too long in a refrigerator. But do warm and feed your mealworms every now and then.

If you have some burlap or other coarsely and loosely woven fiber, you can cut it into small pieces and layer them in the worm container. The mealworms will crawl in between the sheets, allowing you to collect them without getting a handful of chicken food at the same time. It is also easy enough to scoop out a dish mixed with chicken starter and put it outside. Birds know how to scratch through stuff to get at the food and they will soon learn that it is well worth digging through your offering.

We (well, Fran doesn't deal with the worms very often actually) put the worms on the deck rail in a small clear dish early each morning. The dish is a bit larger than something you would serve crème brûlée in. The mealworms don't climb so the sides of the feeding dish need to be only an inch or so high. A cereal bowl would probably work just fine. If they were on a dinner plate they would eventually crawl off, especially if you feed into warm weather. They are much less active in the cold (aren't we all).

The birds get used to this special food and often arrive immediately after it is placed on the deck. We like to watch the feeding activities so our dish is placed about eight feet from the dining room table in front of a double-door glass slider. The worms will not last all day because the birds seem to eat and eat and eat.

The list of local feeder birds that take the mealworms is probably predictable but their behavior is interesting and not always predictable.

American Robins are not numerous in our yard, but there is usually one big bully robin that tries to dominate the feeders even though it has little interest in most of the seed and suet we offer. The robin does like mealworms, however, and is often the first arrival. Its mere presence intimidates many other species. We counted the worms taken by our robin and the low number for one binge was 15 and the high was 27. We let it eat its fill each time.

Carolina Wren.

The only birds not intimidated by the robin are the pair of Carolina Wrens that boldly land on the dish and take worms from right under the robin. The Carolina Wrens are often in pairs. Their population is recovering from a deadly cold and snowy winter a few years ago; it is nice to have these busy and inquisitive birds back in the yard.

Tufted Titmice are the busiest of the worm-birds. They take them one at a time and fly off to devour them privately. But they return quickly and frequently. It is hard to count the specific activities of one titmouse because they seem to come in waves one after the other for a spell of time before the group disappears for the day. Black-capped Chickadees and White-breasted Nuthatches feed in the same manner but with less energy and seemingly much less frequency.

The mealworm is a nice addition to a feeding station and nowhere near as creepy as you might first think. Aside from being quiet, aroma-free, and inexpensive, they make for a very entertaining adjunct to your local bird life.

Black-capped Chickadee.

Online, you can find mealworm farms and many dealers who grow and sell mealworms. They can be shipped in various sizes and quantities. We ordered 7000 large mealworms from a company in California (Rainbow Mealworm*) and they arrived on the third day. Pretty good.

It is easy to underestimate what your birds will eat. A handful of worms grabbed from the housing box may total less than 100. Don't be stingy with your offerings. It always surprises me to see how many mealworms remain after I think we have been depleting the stock.

By the way, the Eastern Bluebirds that started our mealworm habit never returned.

* Rainbow Mealworms grows and sells many insect food items in addition to mealworms. They offer butterworms, crickets, Dubia and red runner and Madagascar roaches, flightless fruit flies, giant mealworms, hornworms, isopods, mantis, Mexican jumping beans, phoenix worms, earthworms, rice flour beetles, silkworms, springtails, vinegaroons (whip scorpions—an arachnid), waxworms (wax moth larvae), and more. Many of these creatures are bred for reptile owners to use to feed their frogs, toads, and lizards.

References

Petersen, W. R. and W. R. Meservey, eds. 2003. Massachusetts Breeding Bird Atlas. Lincoln, Massachusetts: Massachusetts Audubon Society.
Walsh, J. M. and W. R. Petersen, eds. 2013. Massachusetts Breeding Bird Atlas 2. Lincoln, Massachusetts: Massachusetts Audubon Society (Published by Scott and Nix).

David Clapp has had two overlapping careers, one of 35 years with Mass Audubon as a sanctuary director, mostly on the South Shore, and a second as a tour leader, primarily for the Smithsonian Institution's travel program. He currently works with the famous Tanzanian guide Joseph Ndunguru to operate a small-group safari company operating mostly in Tanzania.

In Memoriam: Fay Vale

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:10 GMT

For Fay, it was important to give back to the birding community she loved. In addition to her work for Bird Observer, she led trips for the Brookline Bird Club and the Menotomy Bird Club, was a sector leader for the Boston Christmas Bird Count, assisted at the Joppa Flats banding station, and spearheaded several blocks for the Breeding Bird Atlas.

Fay was ruthlessly optimistic. When someone complained about the problems of getting old she would always respond, "Well it's better than the alternative." Later in life numerous physical setbacks forced her more and more to scale back her movement until, before her death, she was limited to a walker. This never stopped her birding, and she developed car birding to an art form. She appreciated what she could do instead of complaining about what she could not.

Fay Vale died on February 1, 2020, one day shy of her 74th birthday.

Ninth Report of the Maine Bird Records Committee

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:09 GMT

Species Accounts

Pink-footed Goose (Anser brachyrhynchus). This species is now nearly annual in Maine. A bird photographed at Lake Josephine, Aroostook, October 5, 2018, (Bill Sheehan†; 2018-037) represents the state's eleventh accepted record since the first in 2009.

Barnacle Goose (Branta leucopsis). A group of three were at Lake Josephine and Christina Reservoir, Aroostook, October 10 and 12, 2017 (Richard Garrigus†, Bill Sheehan†; 2017-040).

Cackling Goose (minima) (Branta hutchinsii minima). NOT ACCEPTED, ORIGIN UNCERTAIN: A bird showing characters of B. h. minima, normally found only along the Pacific Coast, was at Kennebunkport, York, August 11, 2017 (2017-034). As suspected by the observer at the time, this bird was likely an escapee, a fact later confirmed when photos of captive birds on a farm in close proximity were discovered by the committee.

Trumpeter Swan (Cygnus buccinator). Representing the first accepted state record, this swan was found in Biddeford, York, April 8–15, 2011, but was not initially reviewed because of questions of origin (Nancy McCreel*; David Doubleday*, Peter Morelli*, Andrew Aldrich†, Christopher Bartlett†, Doug Hitchcox†, Chuck Holmer†, Marie Jordan†, Derek Lovtich†; 2011-016). Likely originating from introduced populations around the Great Lakes, either those actively reintroduced in southern Ontario since 1982 (Carroll and Swift 2000) or progeny of escaped captives in western New York that first started breeding there in 1995 (Sherony and Bolsinger 2007), a pattern of occurrence in the Northeast is now well established. New York, Connecticut, Vermont, and Massachusetts all have accepted the species in recent years. The Biddeford bird had a damaged and withered left eye, which allowed it to be tracked on its wanderings from Maine to Prince Edward Island in May and then to western Quebec in June 2011.

Tundra Swan (Cygnus columbianus). First found at Scarborough Marsh, Cumberland, March 18, 2019, (Brad Woodward†, Tom Foley; Kevin Couture†, Josh Fecteau†; 2019-002) this bird was possibly (but not unanimously agreed upon by the committee) the same as one seen in Arundel from March 25 to April 1, 2019, and later in Lyman, York, April 5–6, 2019 (Nate Jones; Nate Hall†, Andrew Aldrich†, Gary Jarvis†; 2019-004).

Western Grebe (Aechmophorus occidentalis). One bird was photographed off Cape Elizabeth, Cumberland, January 20, 2017 (Richard Garrigus†; 2017-002).

Eurasian Collared-Dove (Streptopelia decaocto). Representing a second accepted record for the state, a singing bird lingered at Monhegan Island, Lincoln, May 27 to June 23, 2019 (Noah Gibb; Jeremiah Trimble†, Kristen Lindquist*; 2019-021). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: A report of a bird on power lines in Leeds, Androscoggin, lacked sufficient detail to rule out other Streptopelia species (2018-017).

Chuck-will's-widow (Antrostomus carolinensis). At least one singing bird was present and audio recorded at the Great Pond Mountain Wildlands in Orland, Hancock, June 6–30, 2018 (Cheri Domini; Doug Hitchcox†, Trevor Persons†; 2018-015). The latter observer reported two structurally similar, large, long-winged nightjars flying in tandem five feet over his head and thought that the presence of a second bird indicated a territorial pair, and thus likely breeding. Quiet grunting calls, persistent singing, and a bird returning in 2019 to the same location for over a month (presently unreviewed) all support this probability. The same observer also audio recorded another Chuck-will's-widow at Wells, York, July 2, 2018 (Trevor Persons†; 2018-018). Only one previous record has been reviewed and accepted by the committee, but reports date back to at least 1974. NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: Reports of birds briefly heard at Indian Township, Washington, July 13, 2012 (2012-022) and at Cutler, Washington, July 16, 2013, (2013-023) did not include detailed descriptions or audio recordings.

Rufous/Allen's Hummingbird (Selasphorus rufus/sasin). An immature male from Deer Isle, Hancock, September 16, 2019, (Bonnie Bochan*; Paul Miller†; 2019-040) could not be identified to species and was accepted by the committee under this species pair.

Wilson's Plover (Charadrius wilsonia). Two reports of this species were accepted, one from Ram Island, Cumberland, May 15, 2018, (Zac Fait†, Heidi Franklin; 2018-009) and another from Seal Island National Wildlife Refuge, Knox, July 13, 2019 (Keenan Yakola†; 2019-032).

Field marks are consistent with European Whimbrel, found in Frenchboro, May 29, 2019. Photograph by Alex Lamoreaux.

Whimbrel (European) (Numenius phaeopus phaeopus). A bird photographed in flight at Frenchboro, Hancock, May 21, 2019, showed characters of European Whimbrel, i.e., the widespread nominate subspecies N. p. phaeopus plus Iceland-breeding N. p. islandicus and the recently-described central Siberian-breeding N. p. rogachevae (Allport 2017), and represents a first for Maine (Alex Lamoreaux†; 2019-024). The Frenchboro bird had an all-white, unbarred lower back and rump like all European breeders (i.e., subspecies alboaxillaris and phaeopus/islandicus/rogachevae), and unlike North American-breeding N. p. hudsonicus and N. p. variegatus. Also, it showed some barring on the underwings and axillaries, which are pure white in alboaxillaris (Allport 2017).

Long-tailed Jaeger (Stercorarius longicaudus). Four reports were accepted: An immature off Bar Harbor, Hancock, July 31, 2013 (Gary Leavens†; 2013-024); an adult north of Seal Island National Wildlife Refuge, Knox, July 11, 2019 (John Drury†; 2019-047); an adult at Seal Island National Wildlife Refuge, Knox, August 18, 2019 (Zeke Smith, Keenan Yakola†; 2019-036); and two immatures at Mount Desert Rock, Hancock, August 9, 2019 (Nathan Dubrow†; 2019-035). Fourteen reports of this species have now been accepted by the committee, all since 2008. NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: A report of a light-morph adult from the CAT ferry from Portland to Nova Scotia, September 12, 2016 (2016-035) did not indisputably rule out Parasitic Jaeger and also left doubt as to the exact location of the sighting. A report from Mt. Desert Rock, Hancock, August 28, 2018 (2018-032) did not provide diagnostic evidence adequate to rule out other jaegers. The committee discussed halting review for this species but decided to continue due to the difficulty in separating jaeger species.

Mew Gull (Larus canus). Apparently returning from 2016, a bird identified as of the western North American brachyrhynchus subspecies was present at Owls Head Harbor, Knox, January 28 to February 5, 2017 (Keenan Yakola†; 2017-003).

A Slaty-backed Gull, Maine's second, was found in Augusta on February 23–24, 2018. Photograph by Doug Hitchcox.

Slaty-backed Gull (Larus schistisagus). A third-cycle bird, representing a second state record, was photographed at Hatch Hill Landfill, Augusta, Kennebec, February 23–24, 2018 (Doug Hitchcox†; Louis Bevier†; 2018-003). This individual was found earlier at Cambridge (February 16) and Gloucester (February 19), Massachusetts (Williams and Trimble 2018), a reversal of the pattern of Maine's first Slaty-backed Gull (also a third-cycle bird), which was documented in Gloucester eight days after last being seen at the same landfill in Augusta on January 13, 2012 (Persons et al. 2015).

Gull-billed Tern (Gelochelidon nilotica). Two individuals of this uncommon tern arrived in Maine thanks to Hurricane Dorian, the first found at Popham Beach State Park, Sagadahoc, September 11, 2019 (Mike Fahay†; 2019-046) and the second at Biddeford, York, September 28, 2019 (Gary Jarvis†, Leon Mooney*; 2019-042).

Red-billed Tropicbird (Phaethon aethereus). Maine's celebrity Red-billed Tropicbird returned for its 15th consecutive year in 2019, staying from May 7 through August 16, 2019, at the seabird nesting colonies at Seal Island National Wildlife Refuge, Knox (Keenan Yakola†; 2019-014).

Pacific Loon (Gavia pacifica). A well-described alternate-plumaged Pacific Loon flew by Monhegan Island, Lincoln, October 1, 2018 (Jeremiah Trimble*, Ryan Doherty; 2018-038), and a basic-plumaged one was photographed off Schoodic Point, Hancock, November 11, 2018 (Kyle Lima†; 2018-045).

Barolo Shearwater (Puffinus baroli). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: An intriguing report of a bird seen from a cruise ship ~155 km SSE of Mount Desert Island on October 30, 2019, (2019-051) did not contain enough unambiguous detail for acceptance, especially for a potential first state record. In addition, many members were uncomfortable with the location of the sighting within the Gulf of Maine, far west of the edge of the Continental Shelf where most other documented sightings have occurred (http://www.ebird.org. Accessed: January 25, 2020).

Magnificent Frigatebird (Fregata magnificens). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: A report of a bird seen at Bar Harbor, Hancock, August 5, 2005 (2005-009) contained too few details to eliminate other species, especially other species of frigatebirds. Intriguing, however, was the report of a Magnificent Frigatebird in Chatham, Massachusetts, only two weeks earlier (Rines 2006).

Brown Booby (Sula leucogaster). Reports of this species extended farther northward into the Gulf of Maine during 2018 and 2019 than in previous years as Maine mirrored the extraordinary climate-driven change in status seen farther south. Maine's first state records weren't reported until 2011, 2013, and 2017, and the committee more than doubled the number of accepted records by endorsing four additional reports. An immature showed nicely for 160 participants on the Acadia Birding Festival's pelagic trip off Schoodic Island, Hancock, June 2, 2018 (Marshall Iliff*, George Armistead; Louis Bevier†, Michael Good†; 2018-012). An adult or near-adult was photographed as it rested on a channel marker off Vinalhaven, Knox, June 26, 2019 (Jamus Drury†; 2019-028). A month later a bird in similar plumage rode a fishing boat into Ogunquit, York, July 27, 2019 (Mike Parenteau†; 2019-034). It began hitching this ride from Wilkinson Basin ~40 km off Cape Ann, Massachusetts, possibly on the previous day, and may have been the same bird reported at Stellwagen Bank, Massachusetts, on July 27. Another apparent adult stopped at Mt. Desert Rock, Hancock, August 12, 2019 (Nathan Dubrow†; 2019-038). Submitted photographs were not adequate to positively determine if these birds were different individuals but they were accepted as three separate records due to the temporal and geographic separation of the sightings. NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: A report of a single bird at the mouth of Frenchman Bay, Hancock, July 19, 2019 (2019-033) and two birds at Monhegan Island, Lincoln, June 1, 2018 (2018-011) lacked sufficient details.

Swallow-tailed Kite (Elanoides forficatus). Seen for nearly two weeks, September 7–20, 2019, an apparent adult made regular passes over the Dennys River in Dennysville, Washington, (Daniel Marshall*, Norma Smith*; Louis Bevier†; 2019-039). Timing coincided with a northward influx of the species in the region, but the occurrence was also suspiciously timed with the passing of Hurricane Dorian, which might have caused the bird to stop its dispersal.

Mississippi Kite (Ictinia mississippiensis). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: Written description of a single bird at Belfast, Waldo, July 7, 2019 was not sufficient to rule out other species (2019-031).

Zone-tailed Hawk (Buteo albonotatus). A first record for Maine, this adult bird was photographed in a yard in Bridgton, Cumberland, May 4, 2019 (Jan Jukkola*†; 2019-011). It marked the first record from east of the Mississippi River since multiple reports during 2014–15 from Virginia to Nova Scotia (http://www.ebird.org. Accessed: January 25, 2020). Previously there had been only two records in the East, from Florida in 2000 and Nova Scotia in 1977 (Garvey et.al. 2015).

Eastern Screech-Owl (Megascops asio). Mobbing corvids alerted the observer to a gray-morph bird in a small row of cedars in downtown Portland, Cumberland, November 17, 2018 (John Campbell†; 2018-044). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: Description of a calling bird at Seawall Campground, Acadia National Park, Hancock, July 5–6, 2019, was not sufficient to rule out other species (2019-030).

Burrowing Owl (Athene cunicularia). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: A report from Dyer Point, Cape Elizabeth, Cumberland, November 12, 2018, while intriguing, was not sufficient to eliminate other species, particularly Northern Saw-whet Owl, more likely to be moving at the time (2018-043).

Boreal Owl (Aegolius funereus). A bird roosting on a woodpile was photographed in Smithfield, Somerset, February 12, 2019 (Joshua Sullivan†; 2019-001). At a Saw-whet Owl banding station in Steuben, Washington, two Boreal Owls were caught and aged as hatch-year birds, October 26, 2019 (Devin Straley*; Adrienne Leppold*; Tenzen Jampa†, 2019-052).

Gyrfalcon (Falco rusticolus). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: Peregrine Falcon or the possibility of falconry birds (including hybrids) could not be ruled for reports from Lubec, Washington, December 27, 2014, (2014-013) and Brunswick, Cumberland, January 26, 2019 (2019-006).

Ash-throated Flycatcher (Myiarchus cinerascens). A bird found at Northport, Waldo, November 24, 2011, was captured, taken to a local rehabilitator, and later flown to Texas where it was released in early December (Mark DiGiralomo†, fide Don Reimer; 2011-018). The committee also accepted a sight record from Bar Harbor, Hancock, November 21, 1975, (Will Russell*, Jerry Smith; 1975-001) originally reported in Finch (1976).

A Tropical Kingbird, Maine's second, was found 104 years and one day after the first, in East Machias on October 28, 2019. Photograph by Wendy Sawyer.

Tropical Kingbird (Tyrannus melancholicus). Maine's second record of this species came 104 years and one day after its first, with a bird photographed in East Machias, Washington, October 28, 2019 (Wendy Sawyer†; 2019-039).

Acadian Flycatcher (Empidonax virescens). A bird stopped at Seal Island National Wildlife Refuge, Knox, May 25–26, 2019, where it was photographed and its calls were recorded (Keenan Yakola†; 2019-020).

Dark-eyed Junco (Junco hyemalis). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: A female-type bird reported as "Oregon" Dark-eyed Junco (oreganus group) in Etna, Penobscot, October 17–19, 2018, (2018-039) was deemed unidentifiable to this group, and was presumably the same bird seen there November 5, 2019 (2018-041).

LeConte's Sparrow (Ammospiza leconteii). This skulky sparrow gave lucky birders views in Damariscotta, Lincoln, October 10–16, 2019 (Jeff Cherry†; Laura Blutstein†, Don Reimer†; 2019-045).

Golden-winged Warbler (Vermivora chrysoptera). A phenotypically pure singing male was located at South Portland, Cumberland, May 16, 2018, and was also observed, photographed and audio recorded by many observers the following day (Sean Agrodnia*; Richard Garrigus†, Doug Hitchcox†; 2018-010). An apparent female from Harpswell, Cumberland, May 24, 2019 seen by at least three independent observers (Bill Hancock*, Ken Klapper*, Richard Garrigus*; 2019-019) was accepted without photographic evidence because the committee felt that the written details, though brief, provided enough evidence to rule out a hybrid.

Kentucky Warbler (Geothlypis formosa). Six reports of this southern warbler were accepted bringing the total number of records endorsed by the committee to eight. A male at Hunter's Beach, Mt. Desert Island, Hancock, May 10, 1973 (Will Russell*; 1973-002) was previously reported by Finch (1973). Another male was at South Portland, Cumberland, May 8, 2019 (Noah Gibb†; 2019-013). A female lingered at Evergreen Cemetery in Portland, Cumberland, May 13–20, 2019 (Dianne Ballon; Doug Hitchcox *†, Kim Clark†, Chuck Barnes†; 2019-015). Another male was at Monhegan Island, Lincoln, May 15, 2019 (David Peake-Jones*; 2019-016). A migrant first-fall male spent ten minutes on a rooftop at Mt. Desert Rock, Hancock, August 20, 2019 (Nathan Dubrow*†; 2019-037) and, last, another immature male was at Hog Island, Lincoln, September 19, 2019 (Scott Weidensaul; Holly Merker*†; 2019-041). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: A sight report from Monhegan Island, Lincoln, May 21, 2019 (2019-018) and a report of a bird heard calling at Wells, York, June 25, 2019, (2019-027) lacked sufficient details for acceptance.

Cerulean Warbler (Setophaga cerulea). A singing male was at Green Point Wildlife Management Area, Lincoln, May 12, 2016 (Mark Manke*; 2016-009). Three reports were accepted from Monhegan Island, Lincoln: a male on May 23, 2016 (Pat Moynahan*; Margie Schoelle*; 2016-010); a female found independently the same day and which remained May 23–25, 2016 (Lena Moser*; Gabriel Willow*; 2016-011); and a male seen by several observers on May 21, 2017 (Kristen Lindquist*; Don Reimer*; 2017-012).

Lazuli Bunting (Passerina amoena). NOT ACCEPTED, IDENTIFICATION QUESTIONED: A sight record from Harpswell, Cumberland, May 3, 2019, lacked sufficient detail to eliminate other species (2019-010).

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Bill Sheehan for gathering information related to the Trumpeter Swan record.

References

Allport, G. 2017. Steppe Whimbrels Numenius phaeopus alboaxillaris at Moputo, Mozambique, in February–March 2016, with a review of the status of the taxon. Bulletin of the African Bird Club 24 (1):26–37.
Carroll, D., and B. L. Swift. 2000. Status of the Trumpeter Swan in New York State. Kingbird 50 (3):232–236.
Finch, D. W. 1973. The spring migration, May 1–May 31, 1973: Northeastern Maritime region. American Birds 27 (4):748–751.
Finch, D. W. 1976. The fall migration, August 1–November 30, 1975: Northeastern Maritime region. American Birds 30 (1):29–36.
Garvey, M., J. R. Trimble, and M. Iliff. 2015. Nineteenth Report of the Massachusetts Avian Records Committee. Bird Observer 43 (5):299–311.
Persons, T. B., L. R. Bevier, W. J. Sheehan, P. D. Vickery, and C. A. Bartlett. 2015. Fourth report of the Maine Bird Records Committee. Bird Observer 43 (1):21–37.
Rines, M. 2006. Tenth annual report of the Massachusetts Avian Record Committee (MARC). Bird Observer 34 (2):91–99.
Sherony, D., and J. S. Bolsinger. 2007. The status of Trumpeter Swans in New York State in 2007. Kingbird 57(1): 2–8.
Williams, S. M., and J. R. Trimble. 2018. Twenty-second report of the Massachusetts Avian Record Committee. Bird Observer 46 (6):376–393.

Musings from the Blind Birder: Seeing While Blind

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:07 GMT

Vision dominates our perception of the world around us, and sighted individuals often cannot imagine life without vision. In fact, many surveys have found that most people fear losing their vision more than any other health issue even though blindness is not a fatal diagnosis.

In the face of vision loss, however, it is remarkable how one learns to maximize other senses, most particularly hearing, touch, and smell, to compensate for the loss of sight. When you cannot see, you are much more aware of other clues in your surrounding environment. The sound of your footsteps or the tip of your white cane differs depending on the surface or the proximity of buildings, which create slight echoes as you walk by. Particular smells, such as food from restaurants or flowering bushes, alert you to your exact location on a familiar route. The direction your body faces, whether moving in a car or standing in place, is oriented based on your auditory and tactile information. Is the traffic moving from left to right? Is the strip of grass between a sidewalk and curb parallel or perpendicular to your body under your feet.

To illustrate, I was riding in a car on Route 2 heading west to the exit to go south on Route 128. My friend took the exit but I could feel that the car was not doing a slow, wide right turning loop to go south. Instead, my friend had taken the exit heading north. I said, "I think you took the exit heading north, not south." My friend was astonished, first that she had taken the wrong exit but more pointedly at my ability to identify her mistake before she could. She was the one with vision, but I was more acutely aware of my environment, always paying attention to what I hear, smell, and feel to give me the information that sighted people take completely for granted.

As all birders know, birding does not rely on sight alone. Fortunately for me, the world of birding is exquisite and marvelously complex by sound. I am constantly challenged to learn what bird just made that vocalization, an immensely satisfying pursuit. Even in winter, when bird sounds are much reduced or even nonexistent, I can have a memorable experience.

In early January 2020, I took Alvin out at 6:00 am, or well before sunrise, at my mother's northeastern Vermont home to relieve himself. As I walked out into the cold darkness, I heard something that I did not recognize coming from the edge of the woods near our house. I stopped and stood still silencing the crunching sounds of snow under my boots and heard a low, raspy gonk, gonk, like a deep two-note knock. What was that? I quickly pulled out my phone and texted Bob back in our bedroom, "Step outside on our bedroom porch and listen." I then recorded the sound on my phone's voice memos app. The bird called several more times before quieting, and then suddenly, from the location of the low knocks, I heard the classic call of a Common Raven, the gurgling, deep, and slightly musical croak. The bird had taken off, its call fading off into the distance as it flew away.

Both Bob and I heard the two-note knocking call many more times over the following weeks, and sometimes, we heard two ravens calling back and forth to each other. It was so cool, literally and figuratively, to listen to this newly recognizable call in absolute winter stillness and darkness in the forest that was otherwise utterly silent.

Bob could not use vision any more than I could for this memorable experience. Vision will not help you identify a bird that vocalizes but refuses to show itself. In addition, your auditory skills are required sometimes to identify birds that you see well but are indistinguishable from others without hearing their songs, e.g., the Empidonax flycatchers.

I am in a unique position in that I started birding while I still had vision but could not hear the birds, and then transitioned into now hearing birds but not seeing them. In all honesty, if I had to choose one or the other, I would probably choose to hear the birds. I hear so many more birds than I ever saw, and I consider their songs often transcendently beautiful, as awe-inspiring as their striking visual beauty. Bird songs can often be piercing, filling the spaces around you, and lingering in your soul long after they stop singing. You most certainly do not need to see birds to enjoy them.

Birders use many tools to sharpen their skills and to find where good birding spots or birds may be. Technology enables me to use the same apps and websites that sighted birders and others use. I regularly open the Sibley Birds app on my iPhone to listen to vocalizations of specific species to try to help me identify what I just heard. I occasionally use eBird to record my sightings and learn about hotspots in our area. I write articles and emails as well as listen to birding books and articles using the VoiceOver app on the iPhone and Job Access With Speech, or JAWS, on my laptop, both of which use artificial voices to read content aloud. I have had extensive training on how to use these programs to navigate apps and computer applications. For example, using an iPhone for a sighted person usually involves simply using your finger to tap or swipe to navigate. For the blind user, however, we may use double, triple, or quadruple two-finger, three-finger, or four-finger taps in various combinations to result in different commands. We may also use one-finger, two-finger, or three-finger swipes while continually adjusting the VoiceOver rotor (a type of control panel) to swipe by headings, characters, words, lines, paragraphs, message, links, or any number of other features.

Being blind is but a small part of who I am, one of many characteristics that define how I conduct myself and how I interact with others. We are all composites of many physical and mental attributes, and the more that we can get beyond regarding our exterior physical characteristics as defining features, the better we can relate to and share our lives with each other.

In the end, I do not see much to admire about coping with blindness, nor should feeling sorry for someone who is visually impaired necessarily be warranted. Fundamentally, I don't really see much choice in coping with blindness or anything else that is out of your control. Either you move forward and do the best you can with your circumstances, seeking out and learning strategies to confront your challenges, or you retreat into yourself. The degree to which we successfully face our challenges varies widely, of course, and many struggle mightily. On a small, interpersonal scale, however, we can all help each other by at once acknowledging and accepting each other for who we are while also having similar expectations for everyone we know, regardless of any perceived limitation. Thus, as a blind birder, I should be held to the same expectations of acquiring good birding skills and being informed about the birds themselves as sighted birders are. I am like any other birder, trying hard to identify birds, learn more about their behaviors and life histories, and helping in conservation efforts for their futures.

Gleanings: Worse Living Through Chemistry

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:06 GMT

Eng et al., 2019, investigated the effects of neonicotinoid insecticides on spring migrating White-crowned Sparrows (Zonotrichia leucophrys). Neonicotinoids (neonics) are a class of neurotoxic insecticides that are widely used in modern agriculture for reducing pest loads on crops. They bind to a type of neurotransmitter receptor, thereby overstimulating the nervous system. This can lead to death for insects—oh wait, that means less food for birds. Neonics are more effective on receptors in insects than those in vertebrates, but they are controversial because they kill beneficial insects as well as pests and they are acutely toxic to birds. Birds can be exposed by sprayed neonics, contaminated soil and water, and by consumption of treated seeds. The actual mechanisms of toxic effects of neonics on birds and the extent of long-term damage are poorly known. In order to elucidate some of the effects, Eng et al., combined controlled dosing of wild-caught birds with telemetry, using nanotags and the Motus Wildlife Tracking System, to follow migration movements in the wild. Sparrows who consumed even very small doses of the neonic imidacloprid showed negative effects on fueling and migration. A single dose of imidacloprid—3-10% of predicted median lethal dose—caused a weight loss within 6 hours; 3% in the lowest dose and 6 % in a higher dose. The loss of weight was due to loss of fat, the critical fuel for migration. Loss of weight or fat was due to appetite suppression, possibly due to acute toxicity, with high-dose sparrows eating 70% less food than controls. Exacerbating changes in nutrient uptake or general toxicity are possible. Once birds had recovered, they resumed a normal migration with no apparent change in directionality or speed of movement.

Imidacloprid exposure significantly increased stopover duration. It seems likely that the birds had to recover from the toxicity of the neonic, and then resume migratory hyperphagia to rebuild fat stores for the next leg of their migratory journey. In previous studies, this research group has shown that sparrows recover body mass and orientation ability within two weeks of a high dose of imidacloprid. Delaying migration, even by a short period, has clear deleterious effects at the individual and population level. Extending stopovers increases the chance of predation, disease, and encountering adverse weather. Delays run counter to selection pressures to minimize migration time in the spring and have been associated with decreased number of offspring in late breeding in poor territories.

Neonics are the most extensively used insecticides in the world, and their abundant availability along bird migration routes presents a worrisome possible barrier to normal migration in this world of too many obstacles to the survival of birds.

References

Eng, M.L., B.J.M. Skutchbury, and D.A. Morrissey. 2019. A neonicotinoid insecticide reduces fueling and delays migration in songbirds. Science 365:1177–80.
Larson, D.M. 2018. Gleanings: Getting Lost. Bird Observer 46 (1):36–8.

About Books: Memoirs of an Ideal Companion

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:05 GMT

For those of us raised in the 50s, the offerings were far fewer. I saw Walt Disney's award-winning nature films in the True Life Adventures series only after they were shown on television. Films like The Vanishing Prairie (1953) and Nature's Half Acre (1951) featured state of the art cinematography for that era. This was combined with a decidedly anthropomorphic voiceover combined with a music soundtrack that Disney felt would make the films more appealing to a wider audience. So, a pair of scorpions fighting was shown with square dance music added. For Walt Disney, in these films nature always told a clear story that was easy for the public to understand.

Mention must be made of the venerable Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom series, which ran from 1963 until 1988 and was revived in 2002. This series was a spin-off of the earlier Zoo Parade. Both were hosted by zoologist Marlin Perkins, a Walter Cronkite with a monkey figure. In later shows, Perkins's "man in the field" was the indefatigable Jim Fowler, who was always the guy who had to dive into murky water to grab the anaconda or whatever creature that was the focus of that episode. Fowler soon became the face of the series, making numerous appearances on late night talk shows and even an episode of Seinfeld.

Today, so-called "nature shows" are everywhere. The best are much more sophisticated than the shows of the 50s and 60s. These contemporary programs try to convey a more complex and nuanced view of the natural world. Death and blood and guts, and sex—absent from Disney's vision—are regular parts of the program. The narration and content of these programs is a still mixed bag, but anything hosted by Sir David Attenborough is the gold standard of the genre. We now expect to see truly extraordinary film work that was unthinkable only 20 years ago in every show. Close-up underwater images of penguins catching fish, lyrical aerial shots of hippos swimming down a river, or intimate footage of the daily life of lowland gorillas are all now taken for granted. Usually the camera person, the one responsible for that stunning footage, remains completely unknown to the general public. Often the camera person risks life and limb over long hours, days, and weeks, in sometimes horribly uncomfortable conditions, just to get that perfect shot that may only last a few seconds in the final edited program. Journeys in the Wild: The Secret Life of a Cameraman is the personal journal of one of the best nature cinematographers in the biz. It is a story that is fascinating, funny, sobering, and filled with so many "ripping yarns" as to rival a shelf of Frank Buck books. The reader cannot be blamed for being amazed that Gavin Thurston is still alive after an adventure-filled career of more than 30 years spent shooting on every continent and under the sea.

This book is a meander through those highs and lows, with some plane crashes, wars, coups, near-death experiences, and a kidnap attempt thrown in to boot. (p. 9)

Each short chapter reads like a journal entry. They are dated, given a location, and the longitude and latitude. There are a number of small line drawings to accompany some of the chapters. In addition, there is a small photographic section in the book.

Gavin Thurston's career began in 1972 at age nine in Cheltenham, United Kingdom, when his beloved auntie lent him a camera so he could take a few shots on his upcoming trip to the zoo. The camera was as basic as they got for the time. "Made by Kodak, it's affectionately called a Box Brownie, probably the most common camera available. With only 12 photos to a roll and a waist-level viewfinder, who knew what a nine-year-old boy might capture on film—if anything" (p. 3).

When the film was developed, most of his first roll of film did not produce great shots, except for one picture of Cuddles, a male orca. That single photo was enough to get the young Thurston hooked on nature photography. This decidedly unextraordinary shot is reproduced in this book. But his career as a professional cameraman didn't really take off until years later when he got an entry-level job at Oxford Scientific Films. It was here that he learned the basics of what being a cameraman really means: long hours, on site problem solving, and sometimes dangerous jobs.

Throughout Journeys in the Wild, Thurston never comes off as anything more or less than a good-natured, ordinary person who has had the very good fortune to visit some of the most amazing places on earth. He is up for anything but is also quite self-deprecating about some incredible screw-ups. In 1989, he is filming on Barro Colorado Island, Panama, for the first time. The researchers there warn him about the "jiggers." He and his companion have no idea what "jiggers" are.

Being macho and not wanting to appear ignorant, we don't ask where we might see these ‘jiggers', if they are common or dangerous. I had done some research before coming to Panama and mostly read about jaguars, monkeys, armadillos, anteaters, snakes, sloths and tapirs. Not to mention over 900 species of bird. I don't recall reading about jiggers though. (p. 73)

They spend their hours while filming on the lookout for these "jiggers," searching vines and forest floors for some obvious creature, little realizing these jiggers are the minute biting mites, often called chiggers, that are the bane of unsuspecting jungle hikers. They cause a hellish itching as they burrow into your skin. Thurston and his colleagues wonder why the researchers are all wearing long sleeves and long pants in the heat of the tropics. Instead, they choose to hike in shorts and short sleeves. Of course they are smitten later by a plague of horrific itching.

As his career develops, Thurston realizes that it is not only what happens in the field that is a challenge. He spends on the average 220 days per year away from home. He has a family with children that need his attention, and this time away does take a toll. "Divorce can happen to anyone but I think the strains of this career cause a higher than average marriage failure rate" (p. 54).

Early in his career, as he was still earning his reputation, he opens up about the financial worries he faced at that time, adding to the strains on his family: "It's been an awful few months. Having turned down the trips to Antarctica and the Pitcairn Islands, I haven't managed to get any other work. Interest rates have been as high as 14.25 percent. Not being able even to make the interest payments on our mortgage and camera loan, my overdraft has shot into five figures. It's my own stupidity and I have literally been worried sick" (p. 206).

Much of the time, Thurston finds himself in some predicament that would make of most of us run in the opposite direction. In 1990 in the Kyzyl Jar, Badkyz Reserve in Kyrgystan—then part of the former Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR)—he is asked to film a nesting Eagle Owl without disturbing it. The only problem is that the owl is nesting high in a cliff in a cave.

Leonid goes ahead of me, shuffling along the foot-wide ledge, and I start to follow. The kit is going to get lowered down from the top of the cliff by rope. Halfway along the ledge, I look down. My head starts to spin. Below me is a 30-foot vertical drop, and then a 250-foot slope to the bottom of the canyon. For the first time in my life I discover what vertigo is. My brain is thinking of it as a 300-foot drop and the wall of rock behind me suddenly feels as if it's physically pushing me forwards; terrified, I force my head and back against the cliff. Leonid looks at me, "Are you okay?" (p. 41)

He sleeps in the back of the cave all night. The rocky floor is swarming with ticks, fleas and other biting insects. He suffers through it all and ultimately gets the beautiful shot of the owls in the light of sunrise. This is typical of his job. It requires long hard hours in blinds, platforms in trees, or just sitting soundlessly in a small tent in order to bring you that one sequence that will hopefully make you say "ah!"" if only for a few seconds of air time.

Sometimes the situations he finds himself in are both dangerous and humorous. In Tsavo East National Park and Tiva River, Kenya, in 1983, he is assigned to film the life of the dung beetles. "One thing we need for the dung beetle sequence is a backdrop of elephants crapping; that will then lead into the story of how dung beetles can smell the shit, find the shit, make little balls with the shit, and then roll them away, bury them and lay their eggs in them" (p. 64). This means getting very close to the rear end of several large, and potentially very dangerous elephants with all the camera equipment and then waiting for them to defecate. "No gun, no protection, just me and Simon in our sandals heading towards a herd of elephants in an open forest. " ‘Sure,' I say" (p. 64).

In Journeys in the Wild we learn about how these camera people find all the special sites to capture those perfect images. Obviously the camera people aren't just wandering around the planet aimlessly hoping to luck into finding the best places to shoot pandas or Kakapos. In some cases the production company—in Thurston's case this often means the BBC—can develop an interesting mutually beneficial relationship with scientists working in the field.

Keeping scientists out in the field for 365 days a year, in harsh conditions, costs money. Replenishment of grants isn't easy either. Supporters and companies want to see results, data, findings, to convince them to continue the funding. When the scientists can't deliver, because they are mid-process and don't yet have results, additional funding is often denied and money becomes tight. Occasionally, film crews can come to the rescue by paying inflated prices for the huge privilege of filming. (p. 162.

Most of the time this amounts only to scientists giving the camera people access to their research sites or their field knowledge of the area. Sometimes the researchers allow the cameramen to use their blinds and platforms.

Gavin Thurston has worked with Sir David Attenborough many times. It is a relief to learn, that off camera, Sir David is still the enthusiastic, knowledgeable-about-everything naturalist that he presents to the camera. Furthermore, the field people love to work with him because of his generous and friendly attitude to those working around him. "So uplifting to find that Sir David—as well as being a top naturalist and broadcaster, the inspiration to launch my career, a respected figure recognized by the Queen with a knighthood just four years ago—is also a top bloke" (p. 77).

Attenborough's knowledge of the workings of the natural world is unrivaled. There are times when Thurston is filming Sir David that he experiences that perfect natural history film moment that combines unique imagery with on-site stunning narration. In the Conkouati National Park, in the Republic of Congo in 2001, the crew watches as a tribe of chimpanzees raise their arms and begin to wade across a stream. Sir David Attenborough stands in front of the camera while the chimps continue in the background.

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck and I am close to tears. To have Sir David Attenborough just in front of me so eloquently explaining a part of evolution and our ancestry, while behind is a vision of the origin of early man. It all makes so much sense to me. The image and the sound of those 25 seconds will stay with me forever. This is another of those days when I appreciate the experience beyond the job. (p. 318)

I have avoided reprinting any of the numerous really crazy stories recounted in Journeys in the Wild because those would be spoilers for anyone wanting to read this outstanding book. Suffice it to say, they are many tales of filming gorillas, pandas, tigers, lions, and many other animals and birds and invertebrates. Thurston is punched by a gorilla, chased by rhinos, and stalked by lions. He has traveled a number of times under the sea in a small submersible. He almost kills Sir David Attenborough with a Monty Python song. There is so much more.

Three quarters through the book, Thurston's travels take a dark turn. In 1991, he and his crew are assigned to film the Dinka people of Sudan. This requires them to drive for days through Southern Sudan at the time of their civil war. Seeing so many 12 and 13-year-old boys toting automatic weapons is like nothing he has experienced before. It is the first time in Journeys in the Wild that Thurston expresses some doubts about what he is doing..

I find these scenes shocking. This is life for these young men and boys. Most have been conscripted or kidnapped from their home villages and brought here to fight. Driving on, we pass numerous burnt-out and abandoned army vehicles with bullet holes or shrapnel damage. More reminders of the reality of the civil war that has ravaged this country for decades. I'm beginning to wonder whether we should have traveled into Sudan—after all, it's just for a natural history television sequence. (p. 380–81)

Later, in 2005, he flies over Kalimantan, Borneo, and sees the Armageddon-like wasteland that the failed Mega Rice Project has left behind. "The hardwood had been cashed in, the forest destroyed, the water drained. Although not optimum habitat for orangutans, thousands of them, along with a multitude of species, were killed, displaced, and made homeless as a result of this failed project" (p. 408).

"What are we doing to this planet?" (p. 408)

Experiencing scenes like this would be enough for most of us to give up completely on humanity and decide to go live like a hermit on some island. But Gavin Thurston's faith in the human species may have been challenged, but it is not broken. "I believe humans are predominantly a kind and social species—it seems only politics and crazy ideologies split us apart" (p. 132).

I interviewed Gavin Thurston recently for the radio and this is what ultimately impressed me most about him. He is a "top bloke" himself, a down-to-earth person whose faith in the possibilities of the human species, despite everything he has seen, is only rivaled by his deep love of the natural world.

Bird Sightings: November-December 2019

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:04 GMT

Holding true that meteorological winter begins on December 1, the month opened with a two-day wintery blast that brought the region its first significant snowfall. Hardest hit were towns in Franklin County; Rowe and Ashfield recorded 16 and 14 inches of snow, respectively. Up in Essex County, Haverhill reported 11.5 inches, while the Cape and Islands experienced a quick turnover to rain. Boston's Logan Airport reported just 1.2 inches of snow. The high for the month in Boston was 63 degrees on December 10 and the low was 15 degrees on December 19. The month's average temperature was 43 degrees, nearly five degrees above normal for December.

R. Stymeist

Bygone Birds: Historical Highlights for November-December

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:03 GMT

20 YEARS AGO

November–December 1999

There were three reports of Greater White-fronted Geese from Turners Falls, Great Barrington and Hamilton. A Yellow Rail was flushed by a tractor mowing a wet meadow in the Daniel Webster Wildlife Sanctuary in Marshfield on November 1. A count of 400 Purple Sandpipers in Boston Harbor on December 4 was exceptional. It was a good winter for Barred Owls, including a cooperative bird in the Boston Public Garden. The owl roost at Daniel Webster Wildlife Sanctuary provided birders with seven Long-ears and two Short-ears that could be seen hunting over the fields each night. This was the second biggest year for Northern Shrikes, with at least 73 reported during the period. Rarities included a Northern Wheatear in Northampton, a MacGillivray's Warbler from the Fenway Gardens, and a Henslow's Sparrow at Great Meadows on December 31. A Boreal Chickadee continued at a feeder in West Newbury throughout the period.

Best sighting: Spotted Towhee in North Hadley from December 29. This was the first record since the species was split from Rufous-sided Towhee in 1995.

40 YEARS AGO

November–December 1979

Plum Island hosted a Western Grebe from November 22, which allowed some observers to approach within 15 feet. A moribund Fulvous Whistling-Duck, found on Nantucket on November 28, was the first record for the island. A pair was seen in Uxbridge, December 8–10. An Ash-throated Flycatcher was in the Cambridge–Belmont area for the first nine days of December. An adult no-tailed Green-tailed Towhee continued in South Peabody until November 4 and another one (this one with a tail) was found in East Orleans on December 16. A Brewer's Blackbird was found at Corn Hill, Truro on November 4 and one or two were on Martha's Vineyard at the end of December. A female Western Tanager was found at Duxbury on November 18.

Best event: an unprecedented warm patch between November 23–28 with temperatures 17 degrees above normal and sustained south to southwest winds produced two state and New England firsts. An immature female Black-chinned Hummingbird visited a Cohasset greenhouse from November 25–December 10. Its demise allowed for positive postmortem identification and represented the second record for the northeast after a bird near Antigonish, Nova Scotia, May 30, 1964. A Lucy's Warbler was found at Clark's Pond on Great Neck, Ipswich on December 1. At the time, the only record "east" of their southwest breeding range, was in Louisiana, December 30, 1959.

At a Glance: February 2020 Revealed

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:02 GMT

Although the back and wings are not visible in the picture, the collective impression is of a small, sharp-billed warbler with a plain throat, unstreaked underparts, a short tail, a gray cap contrasting with white eye-arcs, a pale supercilium, and a dark eye line. There are few eastern warblers with the combination of somewhat bland characteristics—especially in spring breeding plumage—shown by the mystery bird. Orange-crowned Warbler might be a possibility, but that species is generally drabber yellow below and typically has at least a hint of blurry olive streaks on the underparts and yellowish undertail coverts. Warbling and Philadelphia vireos are also similar in appearance to the mystery bird, but both vireos would possess a thicker bill with a tiny hook at the tip. In addition, a Warbling Vireo would have a plainer face without the suggestion of a gray cap, white eye-arcs, or dark eye line, and a Philadelphia Vireo would typically exhibit considerably more yellow on the throat and upper breast, have a less gray crown, show no suggestion of eye-arcs, and would generally show prominent dark lores. Having eliminated other possibilities, there is only one eastern warbler species that shares the features shown by the mystery bird—the Tennessee Warbler (Leiothlypis peregrina).

In Massachusetts, the Tennessee Warbler is an uncommon, canopy-loving warbler that, in May, is more often heard than well observed. In fall it is an inconspicuous migrant most frequently detected from mid-September to early October. Not unlike several other Canadian Zone nesting warblers, this species is more common in some years than others depending upon the abundance of spruce bud worms in the boreal forests where it nests. David Larson photographed this Tennessee Warbler in breeding plumage at the Parker River NWR on Plum Island, Massachusetts, on May 18, 2018.

Wayne R. Petersen

At a Glance: April 2020

Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:01 GMT

Can you identify the bird in this photograph?

Identification will be discussed in next issue’s AT A GLANCE.

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Wed, 01 Apr 2020 00:00:00 GMT

In this issue: