tesshall's Journal

Monday, April 30. 47 degrees, overcast but not rainy.

I got to see a 23 strong flock of Cedar Waxwings by the bus stop. Not an extraordinary sighting, but always pleasant. I saw another seven Waxwings on my walk home.

I also witnessed a Northern Cardinal squabble. A male chased another male across the street and behind a row of bushes. A few seconds later a female flew by and landed on the bushes. She was then harried by a second female and they chased each other to some backyards where I lost sight of them. I thought perhaps it was a territorial dispute, as I know one pair of Cardinals is often found in the tree where the squabble started.

My other interesting sighting was a European Starling with a billfull of nesting materials, I saw it fly over to the side of an old church where it may be trying to build a nest along the gutter. Another Starling sat in a tree across the street.

It was an overcast and drizzly day in the mid 50 degree range.

I started my walk under a tree that is frequented by a pair of Northern Cardinals. Both birds will sing repetitively, and this time it was the female singing and flicking her tail. The male joined her, and she seemed annoyed by him and moved to a more distant branch. He stayed below her chirping. I suspect that this breeding pair has a nest nearby, as they are so often found in this tree and around the property. I expect that if I had permission to root around in the bushes in backyards I would find their nest in some dense leaves.

Across the road, a pair of Mourning Doves sang dolefully from a high branch. One of them flew off with its fussy call. I do not know whether these were breeding birds, but Mourning Dove song is also common in the neighborhood, and I suppose they might defend it as a territory. Mourning Doves build simple nests with little sophistication or insulation. Evergreens are common around the neighborhood, and their needles would be easy for these birds to obtain for lining, as would the twigs for structure.

I walked in the direction of the Cemetery, and came across a horde of American Crows. Three flew over head, another two chased each other. One would fly at the other’s tail, or they would tumble with feet outstretched, and they called occasionally. I lost sight of these two behind some trees and houses, but three more flew past to join the first three. Not being an ethologist, I hesitate to assume the meaning behind this exchange, but it did seem aggressive to an untrained observer. I know that American Crows prefer the higher portions of evergreens as nesting spots, and these birds may have been members of a family unit with at least one breeding pair.

Further along, I came across a few American Robins and European Starlings. The unpleasant, whistley song of the Starlings is always heard near the bus stop, which they probably congregate at for warmth. I do not know whether they nest there as well, but if there is a cavity I am sure they have occupied it. As for the Robins, I expect that they choose a more secluded spot for their nests.

I managed to find another Northern Cardinal, but only by ear. It sang loudly from a stand of tall trees, but was too distant to find (and would have required trespassing). This area tends to be louder than the one occupied by the first Cardinal pair, it is closer to the main road and to the trains. It also has fewer fruiting trees but more evergreens. I am hesitant to assign territory quality when I do not know how Northern Cardinals assess quality, but I predict that the more secluded spot used by the noisy pair is the better territory. Perhaps this Cardinal is younger, weaker, or less healthy and it could not obtain a better territory.

As I moved on, I heard an American Goldfinch calling from a dense tree. I also heard the persistent song of a bird I could not identify (I have a recording if you want to try).

~9:00 AM on April 17th at the Centennial Woods BCOR 012 feeders.

I lead the BCOR 012 lab down to the feeders in Centennial Woods, but unfortunately the morning was cold and wet and there was not a lot of activity. We got to see a pair of American Goldfinches, which I always enjoy. We also heard a Song Sparrow singing loudly and got to see him as he found a better perch. On the way to the Woods, a Red-winged Blackbird sang from the grasses and did some fluttery flying low over cover.

I also got a sighting of a beautiful male American Goldfinch later in the day, which I had to track based on his call.

Tuesday, April 3rd. It was balmy, above 40 degrees.

As soon as I set foot outside I heard an American Robin calling in the bank of trees to my left, a Northern Cardinal singing ahead of me, and two Black-capped Chickadees singing and calling from the other side of my neighbor’s fence. When I reached the road I could hear two more Northern Cardinals singing from either side of me. Two House finches (one of each sex) flew from my right in to some bushes on my left, with much fluttering and movement. Another Black-capped Chickadee called, and then another American Robin. I caught sight of the latter, hunched on a low, bare branch. At the end of the block, yet another American Robin called harshly, then flew across the road inches from the ground, landed in a brown yard and called again. Just after, an American Crow called from the wing, flying silhouetted against the only cloud in the sky. A Black-capped Chickadee sang from a tree to my right, two Northern Cardinals chorused from either side of the road, and a Mourning Dove’s doleful tone sounded in the distance. It was a noisy morning.

Further along, there came a whistled and unpleasant song I did not recognize. A Blue Jay hopped to a better vantage in the low branches of a naked tree. I tried to photograph it, but it flew away as soon as I had my camera out. With Northern Cardinals still singing their repetitive songs, a European Starling flew high overhead, recognizable by its stubby tail and pointed wings. I reached the main road and song was drowned by traffic noise. After a little while, I saw six European Starlings perched together in a scraggly tree, and another whistled sharply from across the road. Two American Robins ran across a side street with their funny, self-conscious movements.

The Black-capped Chickadees live in the area year-round. This is probably facilitated by feeders filled with seed and suet, by good memories for food resources, by their ability to drink from icicles, and by nightly hypothermia. With these tools, taking advantage of the absence of other birds and avoiding the gruelling trip South make being a resident worth their while.

In contrast, American Robins do migrate across parts of the species’ range. I did not see an American Robin here until February 21st, and now I cannot go anywhere without seeing one (or several). Robins may be appearing here as we thaw, and as the ground softens and earthworms become an available food resource. Sadly, it looks as if they were a little early after all.

It was 8:00 am and sunny, about 20 degrees with little wind. Spring must be here at last, because minutes in to my walk I saw a male American Robin calling from a low bush. He was alone, and as I approached him he flew to a higher perch in a nearby tree. I could hear a Blue Jay calling from some place more distant, whether it was a territorial or a mating call I do not know. As I continued, I heard two Black-capped Chickadees singing at the same time as a European Starling and a distant Northern Cardinal.

A pair of American Crows sat in the high branches of a tree. They both called, but not in time. Then one flew away lazily and the other stayed. I walked on for a while, and found fewer birds as I went. Then I heard a Mourning Dove hooting from some thick trees, I tried to find it but would have had to trespass to succeed.

Finally, a male Northern Cardinal let me see him. He sat in some naked branches over the sidewalk, singing loudly. His brilliant red stood out against the greyish sky, and as he sang he twitched his tail a little. This red must be costly, both because it has to be sequestered and because it might make him vulnerable to predation, and lead predators to his nest. In comparison, the duller rusty breast of the American Robin seems cheaper, and is masked from above by the duller back. The Cardinal must receive enough benefit in mate selection and territorial defense to offset his costs. The Northern Cardinal’s song makes sense at this time of year, when nesting is happening and both mate acquisition and territorial defense seem likely uses of song.

I heard another Black-capped Chickadee calling from someone’s yard, and I tried pishing to attract it. Either my attempt failed or the bird was uninterested, because I got no response. I gave up and moved on. Another American Robin flew close to me and landed in the yard of a nearby house. This one seemed completely unphased by my presence. I am hopeful that this truly means the onset of Spring.

Sadly, it is very much still Winter, and with the storm covering everything in snow again there are few birds to be seen. I left the apartment around 10:00 am (Mar. 14, 2018) so that I could be back by lunch, and was greeted by Northern Cardinal song. He must have been somewhere in the trees behind my neighbor’s house, but I decided not to chase him down. Down the road a while I heard a House Finch calling from a big evergreen, I hear the song from the same tree often but have not yet managed to see the bird(s). I stopped to listen for a while anyway.

I walked over to the highschool because the road crosses Indian Brook and I have seen Mallards there in the past. I was disappointed though, because, in spite of waiting in the cold, no ducks showed up. I strolled over the the Village Cemetery instead, where I often see American Crows, but was disappointed again. At last, there were four European Starlings by the Amtrak, occasionally calling their unpleasant whistles. They were sitting on a telephone line, maybe it gives off a little heat. They were also a puffing up their feathers. The Amtrak is popular with European Starlings, and I assume it is a combination of garbage and hot busses that attracts them there.

On the way home, I caught sight of an American Crow sitting on what was once a church, but is now a PR firm (just a little fitting). The bird called a few times and took off lazily. When I got back, both the Northern Cardinal and the House Finch had moved on.

I struck out at around 10:30 am. It was close to 40 Fahrenheit, much warmer than it has been, and the sun was weak but out. I walked from the Fleming Museum down to Redstone, deciding to spend some time in the trees around Blundell House.

I thought I would see a lot of birds given the sudden warmth, but I wound up seeing fewer than usual for the time of day. My first sighting was a striking male Northern Cardinal standing in stark contrast to the evergreens behind him. I was tipped off to him by first his call, and then by his movement. He flew out of sight with an uneven, wavy pattern to his flight, and short bursts of quick flapping. Even without the conspicuous colouration, one might be able to identify the Cardinal by this flight pattern. The Northern Cardinal has relatively short, rounded wings, which seem appropriate for woods and fairly short flights. A Black-Capped Chickadee called from somewhere in the branches of a thick tree, but I never managed to see it.

The Cardinal was the only bird I saw until I was further from the trees. Walking down South Prospect Street, I came across a group of five slate coloured Dark-eyed Juncos. They moved in a loose group from a yard to the roof of a house. Back in the parking lot behind Living and Learning, I finally got closer to some birds, but they were the invasive Eurasian House Sparrows. A pair of these were sitting under a car that had stopped for me to cross the road, and flew off when it started to move. I followed them to some bushes, but, seeming to sense my camera, they flew off further onto a nearby roof. An American Crow called from some place in the distance.