Christmas Bird Count 2007

pine siskin and house finch

(From Marcia’s journal)

December 15, 2007
22 degrees and a rosy-fingered dawn as I headed outside. Two common ravens flew above Sapsucker Ridge. Surely they were a sign of great sightings to come. Our resident red-bellied woodpecker drum-rolled as I set out. The sun was engulfed in clouds, but occasionally a shaft of sunlight appeared.

The crunching of the icy snow beneath my feet made it almost impossible to hear any birds as I walked up First Field. Still, I detected a cardinal-like chip and crunched over to the woods. After a few quiet moments, three female cardinals flew into a grapevine and ate. A couple black-capped chickadees and tufted titmice also appeared. And on Sapsucker Ridge, a Carolina wren sang.

Then I heard nothing until I rounded the first bend on the Far Field Road and five robins flew overhead calling. One landed briefly so I had a good look at it through my binoculars.

Sitting on Coyote Bench, I soaked in the sunshine and silence, but no birds called or appeared.

I went on to a silent Far Field. Only at the Second Thicket did I pick up cardinals, a crow, ruffed grouse and blue jay. But I heard the red-tail call that I heard there yesterday and as I descended the thicket an immature red-tail flew off from a tree. I also saw a few white-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos.

I decided to push on to the hunting lodge on a neighboring property. It was a lovely hike, but except for a few chickadees, nothing stirred even in the hedgerows. The weather held, but still the birds were scarce. Until I reached the Second Thicket area again, I saw no birds. Then I pished up more white-throated sparrows, a winter wren, a singing Carolina wren and an American tree sparrow.

On my way back home along Sapsucker Ridge Trail, I heard one hairy woodpecker and spotted the female hairy I had seen the previous day on the same tree. Altogether, I walked six miles to record 17 species, eight of which also appeared at our feeders. Back at the house, Dave had set up his camera and tripod at the kitchen window to photograph birds while baking bread and showed me a couple shots he had taken of a pine siskin.

Steve was on the cellphone down on Waterthrush Bench in the hollow, as frustrated as I had been by the lack of birds in the sheltered, south-facing thickets of Sapsucker Ridge. Still, he had found a yellow-bellied sapsucker. And he persisted through most of the afternoon, adding more species and numbers.

I needed to bake a blueberry crumb pie after lunch for the Bird Count supper at the Hoyers’, so I turned on the Metropolitan Opera and listened to Gounod’s Romeo and Juliet in between baking and keeping a stake-out on the feeders all afternoon, adding more numbers to most of the feeder birds, and finally seeing a song sparrow there near dusk. Once I spotted a large bird on a fallen tree in the flat area that turned out to be a common flicker. Still, I didn’t add one species to Steve’s list. Altogether, I had 22 species, Dave’s siskin made 23, and Steve added 10 more species — 33 in all.

Later, when we returned from the Bird Count supper, we found a message on our answering machine from Troy Scott, who reported counting 26 wild turkeys at the base of the mountain.

CHRISTMAS BIRD COUNT LIST

1. Red-tailed hawk — 2

2. Sharp-shinned hawk — 1

3. Canada goose — 45

4. Mallard — 10

5. Red-bellied woodpecker — 8

6. Common flicker — 3

7. Hairy woodpecker — 2

8. Downy woodpecker — 7

9. Yellow-bellied sapsucker — 1

10. Blue jay — 5

11. American crow — 8

12. Common raven — 3

13. Black-capped chickadee — 30

14. Tufted titmouse — 13

15. White-breasted nuthatch — 11

16. Brown creeper — 2

17. Golden-crowned kinglet — 6

18. Northern cardinal — 12

19. American goldfinch — 15

20. Pine siskin — 1

21. Ruffed grouse — 8

22. White-throated sparrow — 30

23. American tree sparrow — 11

24. Dark-eyed junco — 82

25. Song sparrow — 2

26. American robin — 54

27. House finch — 24

28. European starling — 162

29. Carolina wren — 7

30. Winter wren — 2

31. Rock dove — 5

32. Northern harrier — 1

33. Mourning dove — 4

34. Wild turkey — 26

© 2007 Marcia Bonta

Coyote pups

coyote pups

Yesterday morning, Marcia and I had a wonderful sighting of a family of five coyote pups, about half-grown, playing along the Ten Springs Trail. They seemed quite oblivious to us as we watched them from about 100 feet away rolling, jumping, running around, and playing with one another. This went on for 10 or 15 minutes. Then one of the little ones noticed us and approached quite close–less than 50 feet. When their parents came back and realized that humans had been near, they probably moved them to a new den.

This is only the second time we have seen coyote pups on the mountain. The first time was seven years ago, and it was a little later in the summer, so the pups then were a bit larger. Marcia wrote about that encounter in Coyote Birthday.

–Bruce

Spring wildflowers: back on track

trillium 1The perennial wildflowers and shrubs are doing fine despite the prolonged cold snap in April. On April 18th I counted hepaticas and found 149 blossoms on 60 plants at five different locations on the road bank – the only place they seem to occur in the hollow. By the 24th, the shadbush was in full bloom, though it’s not a great year for them, and purple trillium started blooming.

On the 25th, sweet white violets were blooming on Ten Springs Trail, and along the road, even more trilliums were out. Unbelievable how quickly they grow after just a few days of warmth! Long-spurred violets were also in bloom. Sarsaparilla, Solomon’s seal, Solomon’s plume, yellow mandarin, Canada mayflower, red elderberry, etc. have all fully emerged, although none are flowering yet. Round-leaved yellow violets blossomed on the old charcoal mound at the fourth pull-off. I walked farther above the road bank to see if wildflowers were spreading uphill. Solomon’s plume was. I also found a clutch of at least 20 maple-leaved viburnums. Canada mayflowers also were spreading up the mountain.

On April 28th, descending Pit Mound Trail and then following along the stream, I noticed that Solomon’s seal and yellow mandarin were expanding up-slope. At the big tulip tree stump, a bevy of round-leaved violets bloomed and mitrewort along the stream was in bud and spreading. Many small red elderberry shrubs had sprouted and among a clump of wild oats or sessile bellwort, I found the first blossom.

The following day, down near the bottom of the hollow, I noticed that the steep slope of Laurel Ridge was carpeted in the new green of Canada mayflower leaves as far as I could see, convincing me that the ground cover here would be the same as it was on our farm in central Maine back in the 60s if the deer numbers were controlled. The same would be true in the wooded side of Sapsucker Ridge because in the first side-hollow, where the woods was spared by the recent logging, even where the hurricane took out trees, Canada mayflower leaves spread. But I found none beside Greenbrier and Ten Springs trails where the forest had been so badly logged.

Other wildflowers are also spreading despite the depressing encroachment of the invasive garlic mustard. The first yellow mandarin flowered. Many wild hydrangeas were leafing out on either side of the road. I saw more maple-leaved viburnums on the bank before the dark place where, unbelievably, some hepaticas were still blooming. Surely the expansion of so many native shrubs and wildflowers in the hollow testifies to the relative success of our 15-year-old deer hunting program.

© Marcia Bonta

The coldest April

Spring has stood still for almost two weeks. Today I heard and saw all the same birds that I heard and saw last week and the week before along Greenbrier Trail, down the road and around the house and field.

The stream runneth over, and that precious commodity–water–still graces our property in abundance. The coldest April on record, so they say, and spring remains as elusive as ever. Sitting on Waterthrush Bench, I heard a scolding Louisiana waterthrush, but he refused to sing. Who can blame him? The purple trillium had broken ground, and many hepatica buds were just waiting for a little sunlight to open.

All the sparrow species are still here– fox, tree, chipping, field, song, swamp, white-throated, and junco. The swamp sparrow is incredibly feisty and fights off other species.

© Marcia Bonta

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Cold?

It was two degrees below zero Fahrenheit (-18 C) on Bruce’s thermometer this morning. The probe on the front porch registered three minus signs until it reached minus one degree Fahrenheit later in the morning. Birds flocked to the feeder area as I made breakfast. Then thump. Something had hit the bow window hard. A Cooper’s hawk sat below the window and took off as soon as I looked out. All the little birds had fled.

Many schools were cancelled including Tyrone. I couldn’t believe it. In Maine, at 40 below, I removed the heater from the car engine, bundled baby Mark in layers of clothes, and took Steve to first grade and Dave to nursery school in our Volkswagen bus that never warmed up above zero during our half hour ride. No one ever talked of calling school because of the cold.

And here, one year when Bruce was off to a conference in January and the boys had to get to school on their own, I walked them the two miles down to town at zero degrees, we stopped at a restaurant and they had hot chocolate to warm up, and then they walked on to school while I walked home. I remember the hoarfrost clinging to the trees beside the river and forming on my hair. In those days, Tyrone didn’t cancel school because of the cold. No wonder kids stay indoors like their parents, mesmerized by technology and getting fatter day by day. The outdoors has become something to fear.

Yesterday, it was almost as cold, but the Pittsburgh-based environmental/nature show Allegheny Front, carried on WPSU-FM, devoted most of its half hour program to winter sports–cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and ice skating–and mentioned that many people get depressed in winter because they stay indoors.

“Get outside. Enjoy the beautiful weather, the tranquility of the forest, etc.” was the essence of their message. But during station breaks, the local announcer kept warning that there was a cold weather alert until 11:00 a.m. Tuesday because of the cold and wind chill! The Allegheny Front folks intoned, “It’s not the weather; it’s wearing the proper clothes,” or something like that. Then, another station break and more warnings. What a disconnect!

I waited until 10:00 a.m. to go out this morning. By then it was two above and windy, but it was lovely walking across First Field to Margaret’s Woods where a song sparrow flew up, and on down Ten Springs Trail where a titmouse foraged on a patch of open ground on the bank.

I sat on the snow, my hot seat beneath me, along Pit Mound Trail to write notes, where I was protected by the wind and the sun shone brightly. Then on down the road, silent except for chickadees feeding on hemlock cones. Under the hemlocks, the stream was frozen. Even the chute was a thick sheet of ice. But at the big pulloff, the stream ran freely. A regular parade of deer tracks headed down for water. The hollow itself gave me a quiet interlude despite the wind that rustled the trees overhead and grew more insistent the farther up the road I walked.

Throughout the day, at the feeder area, I counted 14 bird species altogether including 35 juncos, two goldfinches, 22 mourning doves, two song sparrows, three tree sparrows and a singing house finch. But I heard no Carolina wren song. Could this cold have killed them?

© 2007 Marcia Bonta

Christmas Bird Count 2006

Another Christmas Bird Count on our mountain. As members of the Juniata Valley Audubon Society, we have been counting numbers and species of birds one day every December since 1979. In 2006 the date was December 16, and at dawn it was mostly clear and 36 degrees.

I was off by 8:30 a.m. for the CBC. Steve had left an hour earlier, having already counted yard birds at dawn, including a pair of eastern screech owls! As I reached the top of Butterfly Loop, an American crow flew overhead. At least four Carolina wrens caroled back and forth. Then a downy woodpecker called, followed by a distant pileated woodpecker that was also drumming. Next I pished up dark-eyed juncos and the one American tree sparrow. So far, so good.

I tracked back and forth along the edges of the powerline right-of-way, getting the expected species–ruffed grouse, hairy woodpecker, the local Canada geese flying overhead, a song sparrow, and blue jays. Then I heard a common raven. I walked along the top of Sapsucker Ridge, but I occasionally beat back down into the thickety areas and found lots of juncos, black-capped chickadees and tufted titmice but not much more.

On the sunny edge of the spruce grove, I did glimpse a winter wren twice that dove into the underbrush and saw my first red-bellied woodpecker. And on the Far Field Road, an eastern bluebird called. Still, I was anxious to reach the Far Field and find the fox sparrow I had seen the previous day. But I had no luck. Only chickadees, juncos, downies, and a song sparrow. Very disappointing. I so wanted that fox sparrow and the white-throated sparrows, but there isn’t much in the way of fruit for them except for Japanese barberries. Because the few wild grapes have been eaten, there are no American robins or cedar waxwings. So, despite the glorious, warm weather, I didn’t find any lingering migrants like eastern towhees, hermit thrushes or gray catbirds.

I sat resting near the end of the Second Thicket, which seemed devoid of birds, but I was too tired to care. What will be, will be.

Then I thought I heard a towhee beyond the Second Thicket and laboriously made my way up and over to a heavy blackberry thicket. To my delight I pished up the white-throats and fox sparrow along with a northern cardinal and Carolina wren. I sat down to see if I could get a better towhee call and sure enough I did. What a bonanza. I never knew this thicket existed high above and to the left of the Second Thicket, almost to the mountaintop, giving me a great view of Sinking Valley.

Pulled back down the slope by the elusive call of the towhee, I made it to Parks’s old road and wet area where the stream begins. I stood and pished at a cluster of barberry shrubs and more white-throats flushed. I waited a little longer and the male towhee emerged and then quickly hid himself again. At last I had a real view. And to think that there was not a bird here yesterday. Thank goodness for the siren call of the towhee. As I sat there, he continued calling “toe-hee.”

Finally, I headed back home for a very late lunch and saw only the usual juncos and towhees. I ate quickly and went out again. There, hunting low over our field was a female northern harrier. I watched it for ten minutes as it quartered back and forth and finally circled high and headed down Sapsucker Ridge.

Walking along Laurel Ridge quietly, I was suddenly startled as a wild turkey flew up a few feet away in the understory. Dave had gotten a flock of ten around lunch time, but this was a single.

I pished at the bottom of the spruce grove and juncos flushed all around me like snowflakes and like snowflakes, they were too many to count.

From Alan’s Bench I watched the setting sun light up the most distant mountain as chickadees and juncos called from the spruce grove. I kept hoping for a golden-crowned kinglet or two. Even before the sun set, I heard the continual, shivering, downscale cry of a screech owl.

At last it was time to call it a day. With 27 species on my own–three of which were unusual–I had had one of my best CBCs, even though I had missed the brown creepers and golden-crowned kinglets of the previous day.

Steve had even more surprising species than I had–a Lincoln’s sparrow, a barred owl, a belted kingfisher down by the river, and, just like last year, a golden eagle. Altogether, we found 37 species, missing both cedar waxwings and robins. Still, it brought both of us some exciting moments as it always does.

© 2007 Marcia Bonta