|
The Barred Owl in my yard |
In the past few weeks the feeders in my front yard have attracted more mammal species than bird species, as the only avian visitors have been the chickadees and a voracious Hairy Woodpecker. Mammals, however, have included both squirrel species, shrews, mice, and some bold white-tailed deer. The over-abundance of mammals has attracted a Barred Owl, who had been seen eyeing the feeders almost every night for the past 2 weeks. I'm thrilled to have an owl in the yard not just because they are so beautiful to look at, but because I haven't caught a mouse in the house in weeks, making the owl best method of rodent control I've found so far.
We've been caught in the dead of winter for some time now, it's been over a week since I've seen the sun and every day I wake up to a new dusting of snow. It seems like winter is going to last forever, but I know by some signs that the season is changing, slowly but surely. One of those signs is the change in bird activity, such as the vulture I saw flying over I-87 yesterday, or the Song Sparrow I heard singing in Clifton Park last week, or the flocks of Common Redpolls that are moving back through from the south, and are stopping at my feeder along the way.
Common Redpolls, like Pine Siskins, are an irruptive
winter visitor, travelling south from their arctic breeding grounds in years when food becomes scarce in the north, which tends to happen every-other year. Redpolls started appearing here in the Adirondacks in December, in small numbers at first and then growing into larger flocks. In December I had anywhere from 5-50 Common Redpolls at my feeders each day, and in January the number peaked when I had about 150-200 in a single day. Redpolls are one of my favorite winter visitors, with their pudgy bills and their deep red caps they have a lot of charisma, much like a chickadee. They move about almost constantly, and are quick to fly off at the sound of just about anything. They seem to waste a lot of energy flying off every time they sense a threat, which seems to happen once every minute or so. Which is probably why these little guys will park themselves at a feeder for quite some time, gorging on thistle seed (their preferred food), or sunflower seeds. Since they breed in the boreal forest and arctic tundra these little critters are used to cold temperatures, but they still need a constant food supply to keep their body temperatures up during the cold nights. When large flocks arrive at my feeders I feel bad that I don't have more feeders for them, though I'm amazed at how many birds find a way to fit onto one thistle feeder! When the large flocks arrive I spread thistle on the ground beneath my lilac bushes so that there is more food available and less squabbling over feeders. This not only attracts more birds, but puts them into a better location for me to take photos of them from my picture window, and gives me a better view with which to search for a larger and rarer Hoary Redpoll, a separate species that breeds in the high arctic and rarely makes it into the states.
|
The Hoary Redpoll (center) stands out as slightly
larger than the Commons |
|
The Hoary Redpoll |
I've been searching for a Hoary Redpoll for fifteen years, but have never had success. Identifying a Hoary is very tricky business, and can stir up quite a bit of debate among birders. On one of my Christmas Bird Counts this year I spent a good half hour debating with other birders on whether a bird at someone's feeders was a Hoary or Common--finally determining there wasn't enough certainty to call it a Hoary. I wanted it to be a Hoary, because the species has evaded me all these years, but it seems I can never get a good enough look at a redpoll to convince myself that it is, without uncertainty, a Hoary. But this year I had a new, fool-proof way to identify a Hoary Redpoll--my camera. With a camera I could not only zoom in on a bird that I thought might be a Hoary, but with any luck I could get pictures from every angle, and if I still wasn't convinced I could get a second opinion. A good rule of thumb is that for every 100 Commons there is likely to be 1 Hoary (at least that has been my observations over the years from other people's reports). So when I had 150 redpolls here I spent a long time searching those flocks for a good Hoary candidate. Hoaries are slightly larger, have a slightly pudgier bill, less streaking on the flanks, a white rump, and little to no streaking under the tail. Each one of those characteristics are very subtle, so it's the combination of them that really sets a Hoary apart from a Common. After years of searching redpoll flocks my diligence finally paid off this year, and I was able to see and photograph a nice 1st year male Hoary Redpoll. It wasn't an obvious Hoary, but alongside the Commons it stood apart as slightly larger, pudgier, and paler, and I was able to get a good photo of the underside of it's tail, whose lack of streaking confirmed it as a Hoary. I only saw it for two days, and shortly after that my redpoll flocks became smaller and by early February they has disappeared. Since then I've had occasional visits from a redpoll here or there, but it seems that most of them continued further south. Until yesterday, when a flock of five reappeared, then 20 today, a sign that they are starting to move north again, because spring
is coming.
So keep an eye on your feeders in the coming weeks for the flocks moving north, or keep your ears peeled for their buzzy calls in the tops of trees in deciduous woods. They start migration early because they have a long way to go to get back to their arctic breeding grounds. Spring is bittersweet, because it brings the return of so many birds I haven't seen in months, but it means the departure of the redpolls, one of my favorites, for at least two more years. So get out and see them while you can, and good luck finding a Hoary!
No comments:
Post a Comment