Nature Note #194: Nemesis Birds

For my last memory of 2016, I want to talk about nemesis birds. But, just what is a nemesis bird? Let's start with simple definition:
Nemesis bird(Nem-i-sus burd)
noun 
A bird that time and time again successfully evades discovery or notice due to their cryptic nature and infrequent appearances to an area that drives a birder to near madness in order to discover it.
I have had a few nemesis birds in the past including canvasback (Aythya valisineria), brown creeper (Certhia americana), and northern goshawk (Accipiter gentilis). They had all the hallmarks of hard to find birds that suddenly appear for a few to see and then disappear, leaving other observers in the lurch. While all three species featured prominently on my year list for 2016, two species stood out as perfect examples of nemesis birds.

Owls make for great nemesis birds as their preference for nocturnal living and cryptic plumage allow them to hide away when most birders are tramping through both forest and fields. While hearing their hoots and screams certainly allows them to be countable on one's list, seeing an owl is a whole other experience. Having the opportunity to spot a wild owl is one of nature's great gifts and the two that I spotted last year were wonderful to receive.

The first was a single long-eared owl (Asio otus) that had been reported at Beaver Lake Nature Center in Baldwinsville, NY. As with most rare birds that show up at a particular location, when word gets out that they have been spotted, birders both casual and obsessive will flock (pun fully intended) to find them. However, when an owl is found, a little more care is required after they have been discovered.

Photo by me
Sure, you could say that you found an owl roost at such n' such state forest and that if you wanted the word to get out that they were there, you could post about it online. This is, after all, how I found out about the owl in the first place. The problem becomes when people begin to disturb the birds when all they want to do is rest and hide away for the day. Long-ears are the quintessential "night owl" and are active when most regular joes like me have long since gone to bed. Using their sensitive ears and night vision, they seek out rodents and other small animals in open fields and meadows. After spending a night hunting for food, the last thing they want to experience is someone approaching their tree when they're trying to rest.
I decided to go and check anyway as the location they had been found in was located along a boardwalk which would prevent someone from wandering off the main trail. As with other raptors such as hawks, usually what happens is that you get spotted before you have a chance to see them. While this might seem to be to their advantage, the last thing a bird of prey wants to do is be seen by other animals.

Chickadees, titmice, crows and jays relish the opportunity to catch a hawk or owl that happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and let them know how they feel. Like an unpopular politician showing up to the wrong diner on a Sunday morning, these birds often several times smaller than the predator hurl insults at the offending target and occasionally come to blows by striking at or around the head of their would-be hunter. This was the case when I found the long-ear. For the life of me, I wouldn't have been able to spot this log with wings unless a blue jay (Cyanocitta cristata) had decided to bombard the poor thing on its pine bough.

I couldn't believe it. A rush of excitement ran over me as I gazed at this bird. An astonished yellow-eyed gaze met mine as the form of the long-eared owl came into focus. Though they are superficially similar to a great horned owl (Bubo scandiacus), they are lankier, have narrower faces, and possess vertical stripes on their bellies. I had to document my finding and so out came my Canon.

Soon I was snapping photos like a paparazzo having spotted Mrs. Clinton wandering the woods of upstate New York. After snapping what seemed like the twentieth photo, I stopped. I became aware of my own hypocrisy and stepped back. I was disturbing this owl with my presence. In a few hours, it needed to be well rested in order to hunt and survive out here in the woods. I glanced back once more, meeting my gaze with the owl's. It's yellow eyes stared back. Smiling, I thanked it for being so patient and walked away.

Later this year, I got a chance to spot an owl with my girlfriend, Alison when we visited the Biggest Week in American Birding in Oak Harbor, OH. The few days we spent there were some of the most productive for birding imaginable. Every day brought new surprises and several life birds including two new warblers, a roosting eastern whip-poor-will (Antrostomus vociferus), and a wayward female Wilson's phalarope (Phalaropus tricolor). While waiting around at the lodge one evening to talk with Kenn Kaufman and Greg Miller (some of birding's biggest superstars), we were tipped off to a photogenic eastern screech-owl (Megascops asio) that had been seen nearby in a nest box on a tree.

Photo by me
After a short walk, we arrived at the spot and sure enough, the owl was there. It was a red morph bird, relatively uncommon in the east where grey morphs tended to rule the roost. Nonetheless, this little bird sat out on the edge of its box, watching the world go by.

Even though we got lucky with these birds and had access to knowledgeable people, hopefully we will be able to find some birds on our own this year. Several snowies have been puttering about as usual and they might be the first ones for the year or we might hear the distant hoot of a horned owl.

We can only hope and keep our eyes and ears open.

"Hoo" knows what we might find?

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