Old friends return during Spring migration

I haven’t had much of a chance to go birding the last two weeks, but I made up for lost time this morning at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm. As I stepped out of my car, I heard a symphony of song sparrows and common yellowthroats, with red-winged blackbirds singing raspy counterpoint.

The yellowthroats returned a week or two ago, but until I made my way a few hundred yards up the central trail, I hadn’t seen one. Two of them suddenly appeared, chasing after each other and bringing a smile to my face. Later on my circuit around the meadows and woods, I’d finally capture one on camera. He tops this post.

The common yellowthroat wasn’t the only old friend I encountered. Several ovenbirds and gray catbirds were calling from the woods, and I was lucky to get close to one of the latter. The bird almost appears to be smiling.

A gray catbird perches on a thick tree branch, with muted green leaves behind it. The bird's beak is open, almost giving him a smiling aspect.
Gray caatbird, the Chatty Cathy of the woods.

I also spotted my first female red-winged blackbird of the season. i wasn’t quick enough to get a photo of her, but I did happily catch one of the males who stayed still enough in good light to capture him on camera.

Red-winged blackbird perches in profile on a small bush with green leaves. The bird's beak is open in song, and the red and yellow epaulets on its wings are vivid in the morning sun.
Male blackbird calling from a small tree, for once lit up well by the sun.

American goldfinches frequent our feeders at home, and it’s been a joy to watch their breeding season colors emerge. At the Pole Farm today, I saw several, including this male whose yellow has arrived but whose contrasting black feathers don’t appear fully developed.

Male American goldfinch perched on a gnarly tree branch.
Mr. Goldfinch, I’m guessing a young one whose breeding colors haven’t fully come in.

I’ve been seeing tree swallows for the past couple of weeks as they jet above the fields in pursuit of each other and of flying insects. A couple of them posed for me. Although the background sky is washed out on this image below, I think it’s a nice clear view of the coloring of the species.

Tree swallow sitting atop a spikey branch on a small tree, with its blue colors showing clearly in the sunshine. The sky behind the bird appears nearly white.
Tree swallow showing its colors.

It’s about time for the Northern parulas and other migrants to show up in these parts. I look forward to finding them and sharing photos of them with my readers. Thanks for checking in! 🦅

How to spot a spotted sandpiper

It’s not easy.

I went to Veterans Park in Hamilton on Sunday afternoon, hoping to get a look at a few birds I don’t find at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm or at other sans water spots. Although I would not see many birds, I did add two species to my e-Bird log for April.

Purple martin sitting on the green ledge of a white martin house.
Purple martin soaking up the sun.

The first was a purple martin, which I wasn’t expecting. One of the martins was standing in profile on one of the levels of the martin house, which is on a post near the edge of the park’s lake. The bird — the only one around — was so still I couldn’t be sure it was real or alive. By the time I passed it on my way back, the bird had turned and was looking outward.

In between, I walked along the edge of the lake and on a trail that goes back into the woods. Other than a lone drake mallard, I didn’t see any birds in a spot where on my last visit I’d seen plenty.

So I turned back and again walked the edge of the lake, straining to see what might be lurking on a spit of land a few yards off the shore. The land was heavily strewn with downed branches, and what soil that was exposed was a mucky black.

Merlin had at least twice signaled that a spotted sandpiper and a killdeer were nearby. I was disappointed at not seeing a killdeer, but eventually I saw a bird fly from one part of the spit to another. A spotted sandpiper, it was difficult to see. Its mostly brown upper body blended well with the downed branches it was exploring. The photo topping this post is a good example of how well-camouflaged it was.

Another sandpiper revealed itself. I know I took shots of both birds but I’ll be darned if I can distinguish between them in my photos. 🦅

Spotted sandpiper walking right to left atop a log at the water's edge.
One of the spotted sanpipers walking up a log at the water’s edge.

A most cooperative bird: the yellow-throated warbler

As my birding pal Jim and I made the hour-and-a-quarter drive to Estell Manor Park on Saturday, he guaranteed that I would get a lifer bird: the yellow-throated warbler. Never has been getting a lifer so easy.

As we got out of the car in the parking lot at the visitor center, Jim immediately said a yellow-throated warbler was singing nearby. Sure enough, just off the parking lot, one of the warblers was indeed singing — and within sight.

It was up in the pine trees, and I soon spotted it, lifer No. 243. It was nice adding the warbler to the list, but, honestly, seeing the bird was thrill enough. Its brilliant coloring stood out amid the tree branches. Its song was beautiful, too.

After shooting for a short while, we headed to a trail behind the visitor center and walked among the pines.

Estell Manor is a small city in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, not far from Atlantic City. The barrens are famous for their sandy soil and abudant pine trees, not to mention the mythical New Jersey Devil.

It’s ideal territory for migrating pine warblers. We heard a few of those but I never did spot one. But as we followed the trail and got deeper into the woods, we heard and saw other yellow-throated warblers and also several blue-gray gnatcatchers.

A blue-gray gnatcatcher perches on tree branches.
A blue-gray gnatcatcher stands still for a few moments before flitting away.

After traipsing the trails behind the visitor center, we drove north about two miles to a turnoff in another section of the park and pulled into a campsite. We quickly hit the yellow-throated warbler jackpot.

A yellow-throated warbler leans forward while perched on a bare tree branch.
Yellow-throated warbler giving me a close look.

At least three of the birds were flitting around the pines and a few other varieties of trees. They were variously right above our heads, bopping about from branch to branch, and landing nearly at eye level in front of us. At one point, one of them flew roughly five feet from my left ear.

Jim and I each took multiple shots, and I was eager to get home to find what I’d captured. Suffice it to say, I was pleased. 🦅

Yellow-throated warbler opens its black beak wide to sing from a tree branch.

With its beak wide open, a yellow-throated warbler sings from a tree.

No fooling: my first bird of April was a bald eagle

With the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm closed for a few days for the annual “controlled burn” torching of the fields, I headed to the Dyson Tract along the Delaware and Raritan Canal this morning.

Propitiously, as I eased my car into a parking spot, I watched a mature bald eagle fly into a nearby tree at the edge of the swamp. As quietly as I could, I got out of my car, grabbed my camera and aimed the lens at the big bird. It was partially obscured by small branches, and I side-stepped to aim for an unobstructed shot. The closest I got was the photo atop this post.

After a couple of quick shutter squeezes, I hoped to get a clearer shot with the sun better illuminating the eagle. Gingerly I walked toward the canal towpath. By the time I reached the trailhead gate, the eagle turned its white tail to me and flew across the swamp.

I would not see that eagle again on my 45-minute outing. While I heard plenty of birds, I shot photos of only one other, a yellow-rumped warbler that chose to place itself between the sun and me. The result: no keepers.

I recorded some birdsong on the Merlin app. My footsteps get in the way a little bit, but with the volume sufficiently up, you can get a sense of how things sounded this morning. A singing Northern cardinal and a hammering red-bellied woodpecker are distinguishable.

I took the eagle sighting as a good omen for birding in the month ahead. I wish a good one to you, too, dear reader. 🦅

A Northern flicker comes a hammering

While drinking my wake-up cup of coffee the other day, a metallic bam-bam-bam-bam-bam came hammering down the chimney. I’d left the fireplace flue open, so the racket coming from above was loud and intense.

After a pause of several seconds, the hammering resumed, a pattern that would repeat itself several times. I’d no doubt that a woodpecker had found some corner of our metal chimney cap, and I soon heard the cack-cack-cack-cack call of a Northern flicker.

I closed the flue with a thud, and that chased the bird away.

The next morning, Friday, just before 7 a.m., the flicker returned to bang away on the chimney cap. Even with the flue closed, the hammering and subsequent calls were unmistakable.

The Norther flicker calling and hammering on March 28. Recording from inside my house.

I grabbed my camera and went out the front door to try for a photo. The bird was on the back side of the chimney, so I cut through the house and went out one of the rear doors to the patio. Immediately, the flicker flew off to one of our trees. He belted out his staccato aria again, as if to tell me he was not intimidated.

I related the story at work later that day. One of my colleagues remembered an NPR story from 2024 about how woodpeckers have discovered that their territory-marking and mate-impressing calls are louder from metal soundboards than from tree wood.

That explains why Hammering Hank, as I’ve dubbed him, returned Saturday morning to rap insistently on his suburban-jungle telegraph.

I am fairly certain that Hank is the flicker that I’ve photographed a couple of times in recent weeks. In the photo atop this post, a male Northern flicker sits on the shepherd’s hook from which we hang our nyjer seed and suet cake feeders.

While I doubt I could pick him out of a lineup with other flickers, I believe I have enough circumstantial evidence to point to Hank as the culprit.

I didn’t hear him come a knocking Sunday or this morning. I don’t doubt he’ll be back, however, at least until he finds a mate. 🦅

A 40-species outing at Abbott Marshlands

The thermometer read 27 degrees this morning, but the sun was shining and it brought out the birds at John A. Roebling Park on the Trenton-Hamilton border. Before our outing at this thriving section of Abbott Marshlands was over, with considerable help from sharp-eyed birding buddy Jim, I’d observed 40 species of birds. Not to mention a muskrat!

We (Jim and I, not the muskrat) had several highlights, not the least of which was a Wilson’s snipe standing on the edge of the marsh, a little too far away for me to get a crisp shot worth sharing.

We watched two (possibly three) blue-winged teals fly across the marsh, although I didn’t have time to react and snap photos.

I’m topping this post with a photo of an American coot that was navigating amid some branches near the shore of the Spring Lake. The bird turned toward us and the sun several times, giving us good looks at its white beak, orange eyes and its dinosaur-like green legs and feet.

The trail along the lake was busy with birds — golden-crowned kinglets, lots of yellow-rumped warblers, and a gorgeous pine warbler that flitted above us.

A yellow pine warbler perches atop a tree trunk, with pink tree blossoms fuzzy in the background.
Pine warbler perching overhead. Note the emerging tree buds in the background.
A yellow-rumped warbler perches on a thick tree branch.
The myrtle version of the yellow-rumped warbler is starting to grow out its colorful yellow and black plumage.

We saw a handful of brown creepers throughout the park, a bird I rarely find and had never photographed. Today was a game-changer. The last one we saw accommodatingly crept up a tree branch slowly enough that I was able to take several photos, most of them partially obscuring the bird but two came out OK.

A brown creeper crawls on the underside of a fairly thick tree branch. The bird's downward-curving black beak is shown clearly.
Brown creeper creeping up a tree.

The time we spent at the park got us stoked for the warmer weather ahead and all the warblers and other migrants that will be coming our way. 🦅

Spring is here. Bring on the migrant birds

Today is the first day of Spring, and the sun shone as I made a pre-work visit to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm. American robins were abundant, as is typical this time of year, and I’m topping this post with one of the first I saw as I walked up the central trail.

Farther up I caught sight of an American tree sparrow, which flitted from one small tree to another before I finally got a chance to snap its photo. The tree sparrows will begin their migration northward soon, as will the dark-eyed juncos that are still hanging around in our yard at home. If there were any at the park today, I did not see them.

An American tree sparrow with what likely is a small bug in its beak perches on a tree branch.
American tree sparrow munching its breakfast.

Some of the first migrants to arrive were the five American tree swallows I saw swirling above the meadows. They’ll soon be settling in the bird boxes in the park, jockeying for that real estate with Eastern bluebirds.

Eastern meadowlarks were calling this morning, and I logged four based on the calls I heard being lobbed across the trail. Northern cardinals trilled in the distance.

One species conspicuously absent was the Northern harrier. I have not seen one on visits to the Pole Farm for several weeks. I’m hoping my luck will change in the days ahead, when I’ll be visiting more regularly as sunrise comes earlier in the day.

As I approached the woods this morning, field sparrows made their presence known with song. I managed to get photos of one of them perched in a budding small tree. Look closely at the photo below and you’ll see some green leaves starting to emerge — proof that Spring has arrived. 🦅

A field sparrow perches on a small tree branch. The branch and several others show reddish buds, with several showing the start of green leaves to come.
Field sparrow amid the buds on tree branches.

Stretching my routes at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm

My new bionic knees have rejuvenated my ability to tramp around the woods, and I’ve been steadily increasing the distances I walk in this new year. Today, I put in 2.5 miles on one of my favorite routes that takes me to the north end of the park.

Along the way, I had decent light in which to shoot photos of several birds, including the song sparrow singing lustily in the photo topping this post. Also singing were field sparrows, the first I’ve heard in weeks if not months.

I mistook a purple finch for a yellow-rumped warbler high up in a tree and didn’t realize my mistake until I brought up the photos at home.

Purple finch perched on a tree branch with red buds on several nearby smaller branches.
Purple finch amid the branches of a budding tree.

An even bigger surprise awaited me when I pulled back into my driveway.

A Cooper’s hawk was on the ground near our bedroom window. The hawk darted into the bushes, flushing a small bird that flew past my car and off to safety. The hawk swooped over my windshield, landed briefly by the front of the garage and even flew low near the front door before heading down the street.

Cooper's hawk standig on the ground at the edge of bare rose bushes and a rhododendron.
The Cooper’s hawk, looking for prey by our rhododendron and rose bushes.

Cooper’s hawks know their business. When they get hungry, they head to homes like ours with multiple feeders — a sort of Golden Corral songbird buffet.

I was able to get two frames of the hawk on the ground near our rhododendron but, shooting from inside the car, wasn’t able to get any other shots off.

In a way, we both whiffed. 🦅

A birding adventure in the Pine Barrens

We weren’t out to find the mythical Jersey Devil. My friend Jim and I set out for Colliers Mills Wildlife Management Area in the Pinelands to find pine warblers and red-headed woodpeckers.

Jim, who has been visiting Colliers Mills since he was a kid, guaranteed that we’d find the red-headed woodpeckers and figured we had a good chance of seeing pine warblers.

Colliers Mills is near New Egypt, known mainly for the auto racetrack in town. New Egypt is roughly in the middle of the state east to west and a bit south of the state’s waist line, roughly 30 miles from Trenton and 60 from Philadelphia.

Colliers Mills is in the Pinelands, the relatively new, marketing-friendly name for the Pine Barrens. The region is, as you might guess, characterized by many pine trees. The soil is sandy throughout. It’s a unique and treasured ecosystem, and it was here that the Jersey Devil emerged in folklore in the 18th century.

Driving into the WMA, we stopped first near a small lake that had attracted ring-necked ducks, mallards and a hooded merganser. As we walked a roadway through the pine trees along the lake, we soon heard the trill of a pine warbler. A while later, it flew into a tree overhead and gave us some good looks.

Pine warbler clinging to the underside of a nearly horizontal pine tree branch.
The pine warbler settles below a branch.

It flew from tree to tree, and we were able to keep pace. Or was it the other way around?

The best views came when the bird — the only pine warbler we encountered — ventured onto the end of a pine branch. The bird was well lit by the sun, and we each took several shots.

Pine warbler perched on the edge of a pine branch. The bird's tail sticks into the pine needles.
Pine warbler in pine tree in the Pinelands, aka the Pine Barrens.

Having logged the pine warbler on our e-Bird lists, we drove perhaps a mile into another section and parked on the side of the road next to a field. We crossed the field into a section of woods. Almost immediately, Jim spied a red-bellied woodpecker.

As often happens, it takes me a while to find whatever bird Jim’s keen eyes have spotted. Eventually, I saw the woodpecker through my binoculars but lost the location once I pulled up my camera.

We wandered among the trees and spotted a second woodpecker, then a third and a fourth. There may even have been five. As we were looking at one at one end of the stretch of woods, we’d hear one of the other birds calling from the other side.

I had several opportunities to capture the woodpeckers with my Canon, and I’m restraining myself from overloading the post. I’m sticking with a few favorites.

One of the red-heads, in a grove of hardwood trees.
One of the woodpeckers atop a tree. The red on its head has a jewel-like quality.

I had spotted a juvenile red-headed woodpecker at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm last fall, but these were the first adults I’ve seen in my adult life. The birds are gorgeous, and it was a thrill to see them. 🦅

A walk in the sunshine

The weather reversed course Thursday, the temperature dropping and the snow falling although not sticking. This morning, I went out to my car, which had iced over so much that I couldn’t pull open the rear driver-side door where I usually place my camera with my binoculars.

The windshield was covered in crystals, which the defroster was able to clear to get me on my way to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm. The temperature was not quite out of freezing range, but the sun was shining nicely, throwing off the kind of light that makes for good photos.

As I walked up the central path, I trained my Canon on a couple of red-winged blackbirds, sparrows and the robin who graces the top of this post. One of the sparrows faced the sun, and as I squeezed off several shots I assumed it was a song sparrow.

A more attentive look made me smile — the white belly, bicolor bill and rufous cap signaled American tree sparrow, a sometimes visitor that always cheers me.

An American tree sparrow perches on reddish branches and turns its head to its right.
The tree sparrow fits in beautifully with the reddish branches and the warm-toned grasses in the background.

I did see a few song sparrows. I almost always do at the Pole Farm. I took several photos of three of them not far off the trail, but most of the time they turned their backs to me. I did manage did catch one oriented just right for an in-profile portrait.

A song sparrow perches on a reddish branch, looking to its left across the grasses in a field well lit by the sun.
A song sparrow surveys the meadow.

I hope these photos give you a sense of how comforting and warm the sunshine made the fields seem. Needing to get to work, I spent only 53 minutes, walking just over a mile. Every step was worth the visit. 🦅