On the Wing #15: With fall, cometh the warblers...
I'm now just 20 species away from the glorious 300 and got there, thanks to a renewed interest in warblers. I wasn't always like this. I remember years ago when I had a National Audubon Society Guide to the Birds of North America CD-ROM and like most things in my birding life, used it until it worked no more (or at least until technology advanced to the point where I couldn't upload it anymore). I listened to most bird calls religiously (mainly waterfowl due to an early interest in waterfowling history and decoys), but avoided some of the larger groups such as sparrows, shorebirds, and of course, warblers.
Warblers terrified me with their random patches of yellow, small size, high-pitched songs, and other clues towards their baffling variety. At such a young age, I thought I could reasonably get away with never having to identify them in the field or by their songs and instead concentrate on the larger, more visible birds. It remained this way pretty much until I made it my goal and business to reach 300 species on my life list. Before this, the very idea of trying to identify any passerine seemed extremely challenging and highly daunting. Unless they regularly came to a backyard feeder, I felt I could do little to tell the difference between these small birds that haunt every corner of the American continent. Despite this initial fear, I've manged to add 17 species of warbler to my list. Well. To be technical, I have 17 species of wood-warbler (Parulidae) on my life list, as well as, 3 species of "typical" or Old-World warblers (Sylviidae), and 3 species of the newly formed "Leaf-Warbler"(Phylloscopidae) family (which interestingly contains a species called Wood Warbler (Phylloscopus sibilatrix).
It has been these recent additions that really made me catch the warbler bug. As I mentioned in One the Wing #14, the last two weeks or so were practically dedicated to finding warblers to fill the list. The first one I saw was what I assumed to be a female Wilson's Warbler (Wilsonia pusilla) at Heard's Conservation Land in Wayland. The small bird was flitting in a small band of birches near one of the bordering properties and had a gray top with a yellow underbelly and tail. Fearing, I might be viewing a female Common Yellowthroat (Geothlypis trichias) (a species, to quote Seagull Steve "You know them, you probably don't love them, but you like them. You have definitely misidentified them for other things, if just for a few seconds.") Upon secondary analysis of my notes at home however, I soon determined that it was a Nashville (Oreothlypis ruficapilla) female instead. Different species, but still a lifer.
I also took a mid morning visit to Callahan State Park in Framingham (an experience that yielded more than just new more lifers as described by my sister blog OUT!! at outmusings.blogspot.com) where the visit yielded two calling Northern Waterthrushes (Parkesia novaboracensis) and a lingering glimpse at immature Tennessee Warbler (Oreothlypis peregrina). The bird was remarkably tame and probably an immature bird judging by its calm behavior towards my presence. I'm still kicking myself for being too dumbfounded to take photos. Lastly, at Great Meadows last Friday, I managed to spish out a non-breeding male Blackpoll (Dendroica striata) that rallied to the jeering crowd of Black-capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus), White-breasted Nuthatches (Sitta carolinensis), and Swamp Sparrows (Melospiza georgiana) that I'd attracted earlier with my irregular spishing.
Yesterday I earned another distinction in birderdom. I experienced the phenomena that would (with extended use) lead to what is affectionately known as "warbler neck". I was so gleeful about getting it too, but alas it turned out to be another Blackpoll and not the Bay-breasted (Dendroica castanea) that I'd hoped for. Still the straining, scuttling, and skittering needed to maneuver with binoculars raised to keep a small, flitting bird in sight was trouble enough. It wasn't surprising considering the bird's only concern was to glean insects from the trees above and not to stay still so that I could take note of its physical features to make for a solid identification. I understood after that why "shotgun ornithology" had been so prevalent before the more widespread use of field optics and reliance on field marks and vocal characteristics. Despite this minor disappointment, I'm still chugging along, pouring over eBird reports about nearby sightings. Recently, some Connecticut Warblers (Oporornis agilis) (rare migrants to Massachusetts to begin with) have turned up in Callahan. Will lady luck shine on me a second time? I certainly hope so. I really hope I can get these guys too. With that happy start, I wish you all another glorious week of happy birding! ^_^
Warblers terrified me with their random patches of yellow, small size, high-pitched songs, and other clues towards their baffling variety. At such a young age, I thought I could reasonably get away with never having to identify them in the field or by their songs and instead concentrate on the larger, more visible birds. It remained this way pretty much until I made it my goal and business to reach 300 species on my life list. Before this, the very idea of trying to identify any passerine seemed extremely challenging and highly daunting. Unless they regularly came to a backyard feeder, I felt I could do little to tell the difference between these small birds that haunt every corner of the American continent. Despite this initial fear, I've manged to add 17 species of warbler to my list. Well. To be technical, I have 17 species of wood-warbler (Parulidae) on my life list, as well as, 3 species of "typical" or Old-World warblers (Sylviidae), and 3 species of the newly formed "Leaf-Warbler"(Phylloscopidae) family (which interestingly contains a species called Wood Warbler (Phylloscopus sibilatrix).
It has been these recent additions that really made me catch the warbler bug. As I mentioned in One the Wing #14, the last two weeks or so were practically dedicated to finding warblers to fill the list. The first one I saw was what I assumed to be a female Wilson's Warbler (Wilsonia pusilla) at Heard's Conservation Land in Wayland. The small bird was flitting in a small band of birches near one of the bordering properties and had a gray top with a yellow underbelly and tail. Fearing, I might be viewing a female Common Yellowthroat (Geothlypis trichias) (a species, to quote Seagull Steve "You know them, you probably don't love them, but you like them. You have definitely misidentified them for other things, if just for a few seconds.") Upon secondary analysis of my notes at home however, I soon determined that it was a Nashville (Oreothlypis ruficapilla) female instead. Different species, but still a lifer.
I also took a mid morning visit to Callahan State Park in Framingham (an experience that yielded more than just new more lifers as described by my sister blog OUT!! at outmusings.blogspot.com) where the visit yielded two calling Northern Waterthrushes (Parkesia novaboracensis) and a lingering glimpse at immature Tennessee Warbler (Oreothlypis peregrina). The bird was remarkably tame and probably an immature bird judging by its calm behavior towards my presence. I'm still kicking myself for being too dumbfounded to take photos. Lastly, at Great Meadows last Friday, I managed to spish out a non-breeding male Blackpoll (Dendroica striata) that rallied to the jeering crowd of Black-capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus), White-breasted Nuthatches (Sitta carolinensis), and Swamp Sparrows (Melospiza georgiana) that I'd attracted earlier with my irregular spishing.
Yesterday I earned another distinction in birderdom. I experienced the phenomena that would (with extended use) lead to what is affectionately known as "warbler neck". I was so gleeful about getting it too, but alas it turned out to be another Blackpoll and not the Bay-breasted (Dendroica castanea) that I'd hoped for. Still the straining, scuttling, and skittering needed to maneuver with binoculars raised to keep a small, flitting bird in sight was trouble enough. It wasn't surprising considering the bird's only concern was to glean insects from the trees above and not to stay still so that I could take note of its physical features to make for a solid identification. I understood after that why "shotgun ornithology" had been so prevalent before the more widespread use of field optics and reliance on field marks and vocal characteristics. Despite this minor disappointment, I'm still chugging along, pouring over eBird reports about nearby sightings. Recently, some Connecticut Warblers (Oporornis agilis) (rare migrants to Massachusetts to begin with) have turned up in Callahan. Will lady luck shine on me a second time? I certainly hope so. I really hope I can get these guys too. With that happy start, I wish you all another glorious week of happy birding! ^_^
Hey G. Perkins!
ReplyDeleteThanks for 'following' my blog. I know you have a lot of options when it comes to bird blogs, and I want to thank you for flying Butlers Birds and Things : )
Anyway, I've enjoyed reading your posts here (too much so in fact, because I really should be working). Those east coast warblers...they're a gold mine, both in terms of specie numbers and literal coloration! Good luck in your pursuit towards 300! I bet that if you make it to the coast these next few weeks/weekends, you'll pick up some odd pelagic migrants too!
Cheers