Warbler Capital of the World

This week’s photo, taken May 13, 2013 at Magee Marsh in Ohio (east of Toledo along the shore of Lake Erie), features a BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER, just one of the many colorful gems known as warblers that rest and refuel here during spring migration before flying across the lake. 

Laura and I are spending the week in northwest Ohio, to witness one of North America’s most impressive warbler migrations. This area is described as “The Warbler Capital of the World,” and after a few days here, I’m a believer. To put things in perspective: in San Diego, where I lived for many years until last fall, you would have an excellent warbler day if you saw 9-10 warbler species. In Seattle, my new home now, probably 5-6 warblers is considered a very good day. Tuesday at Magee Marsh in Ohio, I spotted 23 different warblers, and a local birder commented that he did not think Tuesday was an exceptionally good day.

Besides the phenomenal numbers, many of the warblers here hang out at eye level or lower, and some forage only a few feet from your face. If you need a warbler fix next April or May, consider a trip to Ohio (also consider Point Pelee National Park in Ontario, Canada).

Popcorn Litter

This week’s photo, taken May 4, 2013 at Discovery Park in Seattle, WA, features a TOWNSEND’S SOLITAIRE feasting on madrone tree flowers scattered along the ground.

Sometimes we focus our binoculars on a bird and think: “Wow, I don’t know what that is.” It can be a frustrating moment, or perhaps an exciting one, for if we initially cannot put a name on a bird, it might mean that we have found something unusual.

That’s how I feel on Saturday morning when I spot a mostly gray bird with a long tail and a mockingbird-like bill. For a few moments, I am stumped. Then, because of the bold white eye-ring, I realize it’s a TOWNSEND’S SOLITAIRE, an uncommon species in the Seattle area. It’s also my first ever decent sighting of a Solitaire. Last fall in Montana, I had a pathetically poor, long-distance view of one which I could not identify until after thorough examination of my grainy photos on my computer. (I nearly had to contact CSI for help).

This individual exhibits a fondness for the tiny bell-shaped flowers that resemble bits of popcorn and appear to litter the path. Since the bird intends to hang out and fuel up, I decide to sit down and observe the feeding activity for awhile. Every few minutes, a hiker approaches and flushes the bird into a nearby tree. But every time the hiker moves on, the Solitaire returns to the ground and resumes its snacking. Finally, after 45 minutes, I get up to leave, and my movement causes the Solitaire to retreat to safety in a tree. After I take about 30 steps, curiosity gets the best of me. I stop, turn around and look back. Once again, the Solitaire is exactly where it wants to be: on the ground, clearing the area of popcorn litter.

Rubber Duckies

This week’s photo, taken April 30, 2013 at Magnuson Park in Seattle, WA, features 13 CANADA GEESE goslings floating close behind a protective parent. Only about half of the total goslings are visible in this image because, using my fixed telephoto lens, I cannot fit all 24 chicks in a single frame.

 I arrive at Magnuson Park at 6pm on Tuesday, on a mission to find the SAGE THRASHER that had been spotted earlier that day. I eventually get a glimpse of the thrasher; however, the sighting of a “village” of birds shortly after I arrive really makes my day.

Soon after I park my car on that lovely spring evening, I notice two young guys using cell phones to take photos of CANADA GEESE waddling across the grass toward the shore of Lake Washington. When I get closer, I discover that the teenagers are actually photographing a group of goslings surrounded by a dozen adult geese. The 24 tiny geese (most likely several broods hanging out together) slowly make their way toward the lake, all the time accompanied by the finest goose guards available. Apparently, it takes a village.

The youngsters are great fun to watch as they transition from land to water. Their incredible cuteness and remarkable buoyancy remind me of rubber duckies. Although technically they are not ducks, each one does resemble a certain yellow toy that bobs up and down in a bathtub.

Dressed to Impress

This week’s photo, taken April 20, 2013 from the north beach of Discovery Park in Seattle, WA, features a HORNED GREBE in breeding plumage.

This past winter, Horned Grebes frequently floated close to shore along the Puget Sound, but due to their rather drab gray and white markings, this bird-watcher paid them little attention. The grebe’s only hint of color was its bright red eye.

Now spring has arrived, and it feels like I’ve traded in my black and white television for a color model. The HORNED GREBE has morphed from a rather plain-looking aquatic bird into a real stunner. Its former white neck is now a rich reddish-brown, and that rufous coloration circles its body as well. Most noticeably, golden “horns” flare from behind the eyes to beyond the back of the head.

What a difference a season makes.

Differences Between Male and Female

This week’s photo, taken April 17, 2013 at Union Bay Natural Area (Montlake Fill) in Seattle, WA, features a female RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD clinging to a cattail.

Differences between male and female Red-winged Blackbirds are striking. Most people in North America are probably familiar with the male, with its fiery red shoulder patches that strongly contrast with its black body. But if you’re faced with a female Red-winged Blackbird for the first time, you might say, “What the heck is that?” With its brown color and extensive streaking, a female red-wing may remind you more of a sparrow than a blackbird.

One thing is certain: a male Red-winged Blackbird knows a female Red-winged Blackbird when it sees one.

Right in Front of Us

This week’s photo, taken April 6, 2013 at Union Bay Natural Area (Montlake Fill) in Seattle, WA, features an adult male CINNAMON TEAL in breeding plumage.

Now and then, we miss some of life’s greatest treasures because we are looking too far ahead. Saturday morning at the “Fill,” I am hoping to find some attractive birds to photograph, and if they happen to be new birds for the year, that would be a nice bonus. At Main Pond I hear the “witchity, witchity, witchity” song of my first-of-the-year COMMON YELLOWTHROAT, and soon I spot the bright yellow throat and dark facial mask of this small warbler as it sits deep in the brush. This songbird, however, is not at all interested in coming out into the open for a photo shoot.

I move on to Dime Lot Pond, where a few NORTHERN SHOVELERS, BUFFLEHEADS and MALLARDS float on the water’s surface. Above and all around me, several VIOLET-GREEN and TREE SWALLOWS zig-zag through the sky. I like a good challenge, so I tilt my head back and attempt to photograph the swallows as they race by. Basically, it’s an exercise in frustration because the moment I get my camera’s autofocus on a swallow, the fast-moving bird abruptly changes course and I lose my target before I have a chance to take the shot. After several minutes, I lower my head to give my neck muscles some relief, and that’s when I notice my first-of-the-year CINNAMON TEAL standing in inch-deep water a few feet ahead of me. I nearly missed this stunningly beautiful duck because I was gazing off in the distance. Sometimes, we benefit greatly when we shift our focus to what is right in front of us.

How to Attract Birds

This week’s photo, taken March 30, 2013 in Magnuson Park in Seattle, WA, features my first SAVANNAH SPARROW of the year.

When I’m out walking the trails and looking for birds, my best strategy for drawing them in is to get out some food. No, not food for the birds – food for me. Murphy’s Law states, “When you can’t hold your camera or binoculars because your hands are full with food, that’s when the good birds will appear.”

Saturday, I’m standing in Magnuson Park with my binoculars and camera slung around my neck. It’s a gloriously beautiful spring morning, yet there’s not a bird in sight. So I decide to eat some breakfast. I pull out a peanut butter and jam sandwich and take a few bites, and then a few more. When I’m halfway done with my sandwich, I notice a sparrow-like bird flitting from bush to bush way across the field. But that bird is too far away to tempt me to put down my sandwich and pick up my camera. Besides, the contents between the two slices of bread are beginning to drip onto my fingers, so I’m kinda busy here. Then Murphy shows up, and the little bird flies directly towards me and lands on a lone shrub fairly close to my position. The bird is at eye level and it’s singing, the background is clean and uncluttered, and the lighting is fantastic! And I’ve got a sloppy sandwich in my hands without a napkin in sight.

After quickly shifting my messy meal to one hand, I grab my camera with both hands and take several shots of the sweet SAVANNAH SPARROW. A few seconds later, it flies away, but not before I get a decent photo. I also get creamy peanut butter and raspberry jam on my camera, but that’s a minor detail.