On this beautiful late-summer day, I wasn’t able to get out with my camera in the morning. But with the sun shining brightly and a light breeze continuing after lunch, I hopped in the car for some birding.
Mid-afternoon isn’t a time when many birds are out, and that was true on my first stop. At the Plainsboro Preserve, I saw two bluebirds and heard a single Northern flicker, nothing more on the trails.
Returning toward home, I stopped at the Millstone River Impoundment in Princeton. I spotted a green heron perched atop a short stump poking out of the water. I quick-walked over to the footbridge near the spot. To get the best light on the bird, I walked beyond it and turned back to shoot, taking a few frames and deciding to wait.
The heron turned in a couple of directions, intently peering into the water for something to eat.
Suddenly, it lurched forward. I started shooting.
On scene, I didn’t realize what I had.
Once I got home, I was excited to see the action captured in several frames.
Both images in this post are cropped. The one on top shows the heron, its crest rasised, grabbing a critter out of the water.
This second image reveals what that critter was, at least for a few seconds longer: a small frog.
The heron gets its meal.
The frog’s demise came quickly, and I suppose the heron’s appetite was sated for a while.
It was a privilege to watch that small slice of life unfold.
One of the things I love about birding is its unpredictability. You get skunked one day, strike gold(finches) the next. Today was one of the latter, when my pal Jim and I made three stops in and around Princeton.
The first and primary stop was the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm, and we had near instant success. As we walked up from the parking lot, I spotted a bird of lemon yellow in a small tree about 20 feet off the trail. What was it?
Jim wasn’t sure, but then he gasped in surprise: dickcissel!
A few weeks ago, we had driven several miles and stopped along a country road to follow a report of one, getting distant views. But here it was, right before us, an infrequent visitor in our part of the world. We had to thread the needle metaphorically to focus on it through small tree branches and grasses.
Of the many frames I shot, this was one of two showing the bird with beak agape. If it made a sound, I didn’t notice.
The bird parked in one place, flew left and landed in another, then flew back to the right. Over five or 10 minutes, Jim and I managed to get several shots. I wasn’t certain I’d gotten more than one or two decent frames, but once I got home I was pleased to find several images, including the one topping this post.
The fun was just beginning. Another birder told us he’d seen a Northern harrier near the big tree that’s a landmark in one of the main fields. Not long after, Jim spotted the harrier flying, too far away for me to get a shot worth sharing here.
Later a merlin flew nearby and we spotted what I’m reasonably certain was a sharp-shinned hawk perched in a tree. A killdeer flew overhead.
We finished our Pole Farm walk and drove to the Updike Farm in Princeton, hoping to spot Savannah sparrows. We had no luck there, but Jim ID’d a phoebe that landed in front of us, too briefly to get a photo.
Our final stop was the Dyson Tract along the Delaware and Raritan Canal. Soon after arriving, we spotted the little blue heron that’s been hanging out in the swamp. We also spotted a pair of double-crested cormorants and a green heron.
The highlight, though, was a pair of red-shouldered hawks that were crying out every minute or so. We walked up the path perpendicular to the canal, where I’d previously spotted a red-shouldered hawk.
We could hear the two birds and watched them flying about the trees. Finally, we got one within sight and tried to get into position so the sunlight would show the bird to best advantage. I was pleased to find later that I got the bird with its beak open in a couple of frames. Here’s one of them.
One of the red-shouldered hawks cries out. I never got the other one with which it was trading calls.
As we made our way back to the car, Jim spotted a solitary sandpiper walking on a log in the swamp.
Solitary sandpiper extracting some sort of snack from the swamp.
One more suprise was in store. A wood duck in eclipse plumage landed not far from the sandpiper, and Jim and I strained to get shots of it as it swam out of view.
Just before we got back to the parking lot, I looked into the swamp and spotted five wood ducks swimming. One of them may have been the one we previously spotted, but who knows or cares?
The wood ducks were a fine coda to a great day of birding. 🦅
One of the wood ducks, floating in the swamp near the parking lot.
Fall migrants are slowly beginning to arrive in my part of the world. Meantime, I’ve been savoring seeing the birds who’ve been gracing our fields and forests over the spring and summer before they, too, head south.
This morning at the Pole Farm, I was pleased to observe a few common yellowthroats. All but one were female, including the one depicted at the top of this post. The one male I spotted was a bit camera-shy, but I got good looks at him through the grasses and branches that partly obscured my view. No photo, though.
Female common yellowthroat, possibly the same one pictured atop this post.
Eastern towhees are still “tweeing” away at Mercer Meadows, and I even heard one giving a low volume “drink your tea” song. I suspect that may have been a juvenile finding its voice. Later, I spotted one in a tree bearing berries, although she didn’t chomp any of them while I was watching her.
I should note that I didn’t realize it was a female until placing the photo below. The head is brown, not black like the males I more often spot.
Eastern towhee, seemingly oblivious to the berries about her.
I found no migrating warblers this morning, but I did spot a few Savannah sparrows. My Merlin app had been picking them up occasionally the last week or so, but I hadn’t seen any until today.
Savannahs are tough to distinguish from the more common song sparrows that are here year-round. The Savannahs lack the dark splotch in the middle of the song sparrow’s chest, and they also have a yellow eyebrow stripe. The first Savannah I spotted this morning lacked the chest marker and had the yellow, if faint, eyebrown stripe.
It’s good to have the Savannahs back, and I look forward to seeing them and other migrants as I prepare to say “farewell” to the yellowthroats, towhees and other warm-weather visitors who will soon depart. 🦅
One of the joys of birding is the unexpected discovery, whether of a bird or new birding friends. Such was my Labor Day experience, which started with a trip to Veterans Park in Hamilton.
It’s been a couple of months since I’ve seen any gulls, and I thought that the lake at the park might produce a few. On my first pass around the lake this morning I saw none, and I was disappointed at not seeing any sandpipers or killdeer along the shore.
One of my normal routes into the woods turned up nothing, and on a whim I decided to walk a trail into a broad field in the hope of finding something, anything that I could shoot. Luck was with me, and I spotted a lot of birds flying into a row of trees lit by full sunlight.
I spotted a couple of Northern flickers and, in succession, trained my eyes, binoculars and camera on a few smaller birds. At last, one bird popped briefly into the open, a white-eyed vireo peeking over its shoulder.
The white-eyed vireo, the first I’ve recorded at Veterans Park.
On my return to the car, I spotted three birders on the lake shore, one of them holding the long signature white Canon lens of my friend Nancy. I had a nice chat with her as we waited for a bald eagle to drop down from its perch across the lake in search of kippers for breakfast. It didn’t, at least as long as I was there. I also spotted a ring-billed gull standing at the lake’s edge, so that scratched my gull itch.
I had to head home, but I was cheered by seeing a good birding friend.
Late in the afternoon, my wife asked me to pick up a few supplies for dinner at the Wegman’s grocery store near the Dyson Tract. That’s one of my favorite birding spots, so I took my camera and headed there for a quick stop before picking up dinner fixings.
What a fortuitous move it was. As I looked into the marsh, I soon spotted a little blue heron strutting about. I’ve topped this post with one of the photos I got of it, and here’s another.
Little blue heron in the swamp.
Even better, a friendly pair of birders joined me, noting that they’d spotted four green herons, three of which I’d eventually see. We traded notes about great birding spots in New Jersey, and I was delighted with the encounter with new birding friends with whom I hope to cross paths again. 🦅
Adjacent to the Princeton University campus, the Charles H. Rogers Wildlife Refuge is a wooded area with a marsh suitable for a leisurely birding walk on a late summer Sunday. I stopped there this morning, circling the marsh on the blue trail and hoping to spot a few warblers.
Striking out on the warblers, I switched to the red trail and had an easy if bird-lacking walk to where the trail follows Stony Brook. There’s a point at which the trail turns away from the brook and loops back through the woods. That’s where my outing went south, metaphorically speaking.
Ahead of me lay a big puddle, and I couldn’t spot a way around it. Nor could I find a way across it out without sinking at least one of my hiking boots into the water. How bad could it be?
I got across with submerging only my right foot, and I figured I’d be OK from there. Then more puddles appeared. And more puddles, some completely covering the trail with no room along the sides to maneuver. I plunged ahead, both feet getting wet.
A little farther, things got worse. Not only was the ground soaked, but the trail was covered with knee-high plants. My legs were bare between the tops of my socks and the hem of my short pants, and I had to bushwack my way along.
I finally made it to a clearing near the trailhead, and I was wet from the top of my knees to the soles of my boots, which were several shades darker than their regular sandy color.
My muddy Merrell hiking boots, after I emerged from the red trail.
For my epic slog, did I get that one photo that made the exertion worth it? Nope. I saw just one bird, which flew across the brook too quickly for me to make an identification.
My squishy socks were uncomfortable, but as I got back to the gravel path I broke into a smile. I had just endured a relatively small bit of hardship but had made it through without scars, ticks or falls.
If this was a bad day birding, it beats good days at a lot of other activities.
On the short walk back to the car, I spotted two birding friends on the observation deck by the parking lot. We watched dozens of red-winged blackbirds and fish crows fly by and even heard a raven croaking its call. That lifted my spirits further.
I managed only a far distant shot of what turned out to be a song sparrow on a bird box across the marsh and the photo topping this post of a red-bellied woodpecker on a tree at the parking lot.
I’ll get back to the Rogers refuge soon, but I’ll just stay off the red trail until it dries out. 🦅
I’d been waiting for the moment. As my friend Jim and I worked our way up the central path from the Pole Farm parking lot, I looked to my left and spotted a big blob far across the field.
Sitting atop a small tree was a Northern harrier, as I quickly concluded by looking through my binoculars. Jim and I each zoomed out our camera lenses to take a few shots.
Female Northern harrier.
If there’s a signature bird at the Pole Farm, it’s the Northern harrier. These migrants spent roughly half the year hunting in Mercer Meadows, and the harbingers of fall migration typically show up in the last week of August or the first week of September.
My sighting wasn’t the first, as I had seen two e-Bird reports recently. But it was still a good feeling on a pleasant, sunny Saturday morning.
More harriers are sure to arrive in the coming weeks, and the next big event will be the arrival of the male “gray ghost” harrier.
Today had more fun in store. As Jim and I headed out from the parking lot around 8 a.m., an immature bald eagle flew overhead. We’d see a mature eagle circling high overhead on our walk back to the car.
In between, we got a brief but good look at a beautiful female American redstart at the old AT&T Building One site. She flew off before I could pull up my camera, but her striking yellow plumage remains clear in memory.
Nearby, we saw a pair of Northern flickers at the top a tree as well as several Eastern kingbirds and a cedar waxwing cavorting, also up high.
Northern flickers on top of a tree. I believe that’s a female at left and a male at right, although it’s difficult to determine if either or both have the male’s malar stripe.
We watched an Eastern wood pewee doing sorties off a tree branch to snag whatever bugs were flying about. I got a few decent shots but had even better luck yesterday afternoon when I made a quick, 45-minute visit to the Pole Farm. I’ll close with one of those pewee photos as I wish all birders a happy Fall migration season. 🦅
Eastern wood pewee pausing to look for bugs at the Pole Farm on September 4.
I have noted that I have a devil of a time spotting red-eyed vireos, a bird that I hear on most outings to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm and many other spots in my part of New Jersey but rarely see.
So it was a delight this morning when at the Pole Farm, my friend Jim spotted one on a branch flooded with sunshine high up in a tree not far from the AT&T Building One site. I got several shots. In many, the bird was in shadow and its namesake red eyes were not apparent.
But in a few glorious frames, that red eye stood out, and I’m pleased to offer two photos of the vireo on this post.
The red-eyed vireo opens its beak to sing.
With more than 1 million birds believed to have flown over Mercer County overnight as per Cornell Lab’s birdcast site, Jim and I were keenly looking for early arriving warblers. I got a couple of good looks through my binoculars of a black-and-white warbler, but it moved too quickly and too deeply into the leaves for me to get a photo.
On the trail while returning to my car, we saw a pair of bobolinks fly overhead and land in the distance. We also watched a blue grosbeak fly up the meadow and out of camera range.
The trail offered other treats, starting with a giant swallowtail butterfly that was a few feet in front of us, feeding on field thistles. The butterfly — its species the largest in North America — was so close to us that I had to back up to get my zoom lens in focus.
The giant swallowtail.
Farther down the trail, a black swallowtail was also munching on thistles.
The black swallowtail.
We spotted a few small butterflies, too, although I wasn’t able to get them in focus.
As excited as I was to see what we saw today, I know the Pole Farm and other wild places will become even more active in the days and weeks ahead as fall migration picks up speed. 🦅
One of my frequent and favorite birding spots until last year was Mercer Corporate Park, a site with a USDA office and a few other small office buildings clustered around two small lakes that attracted a wide variety of birds.
For many months, construction crews have put up two large warehouses and dramatically changed the nature of the place, which is just off I-195 at Robbinsville. My friend Jim and I had wanted to check out the park on a few recent Saturdays but couldn’t get in because heavy construction equipment was in use and blocking access.
Today, a Sunday, the site was quiet. Big machines were parked, and we were able to drive into the area, looping the property. The trees and vegetation on the small lake near the USDA building were overgrown and didn’t afford us even a glimpse of the water that presumably is still there.
As we drove back toward the front of the park we spotted two birders we know, one with binoculars and another with a scope peering out into what previously was a modest lake that lured in scores of geese, killdeer and other birds.
Today, the lake was vastly diminished and shallow. We were, however, able to spot a small variety of birds dipping in some big puddles and trekking along the edges of mudbanks. Greater and lesser yellowlegs were there, as were least and semipalmated sandpipers. Northern rough-winged swallows flew sorties overhead.
Greater yellowlegs wading in an oversize puddle near the corporate park entrance.
Canada geese were grazing in the grasses, including a marshy depression close to one of the warehouses, as seen in the photo topping this post.
While the park is not nearly as wild a place as it was previously, we were heartened to know that birds continue to visit. We’ll be interested to see the long-term impact after the construction crews finish grading and paving the site. 🦅
Just about any piece of property that has a puddle of water or more in my part of the world, it seems, is habitat for great blue herons. I’ve seen them fly over our house after they’ve taken off from the golf course retention pond that’s about a 3-wood away from our property line.
Today, though, I write in admiration of the green heron, the great blue’s less conspicuous cousin. My “best odds” spot for spotting a green heron is the Dyson Tract along the Delaware and Raritan canal just a few miles from home.
I dropped by there late Tuesday morning and caught site of two of them on the swamp side of the tract that is again covered with plenty of water. The swamp had been nearly dry for several months, and I’m pleased to see it wet again.
Green herons emit a raucous honk of a call that’s similar to that of the great blue heron, although the birds I saw Tuesday kept quiet. One of them was relatively close to the trail that bisects the tract, and I had a good view of its beautiful plumage. I was able to catch the heron with its beak open, something I always like to capture because it makes the photo more lifelike.
Green herons hang out in Mercer County roughly from April into October. I hope to see a few more before they fly off toward the equator. 🦅
I’m plodding along on my quest to go birding in all 21 of New Jersey’s counties, and today I registered No. 14. My pal Jim and I drove north along the Delaware River to visit the Alpha Grasslands Preserve in Warren County.
Google Maps took us to a trailhead on Oberly Road, where a sign prohibiting unauthorized vehicles induced us to park on a gravel road leading downhill to a farm.
Second look at the bobolink topping the post.
Stepping out the car, we immediately heard bobolinks. That struck the theme for the day. Bobolinks were all around us. I put 75 for my total on e-Bird, noting that it was likely an undercount.
Jim and I walked down the road, which was bordered by tall grasses to our right and a mix of grasses, low shrubs and soybeans to our left. As many bobolinks as there were, we were often frustrated because they’d land on stalks of grass that bowed low to the ground, making it difficult or impossible to photograph the birds.
We spent close to an hour walking the trail, during which we managed to accumulate photos of bobolinks and a few indigo buntings. We also observed dozens of flyovers by a trio of swallows — barn, Northern rough-winged and tree.
Male idigo bunting singing in the greenery.
After wrapping up on the trail, we drove a good stretch of the preserve’s perimeter, where we spotted five American kestrels and a pair of Northern flickers.
A short while after we left the preserve, Jim spotted a broad-winged hawk perched on a wire overhead. We parked on the side of the road and turned our cameras toward the bird, my first New Jersey broad-winged and only my second lifetime.
The broad-winged hawk.
The broad-winged hawk, Jim noted, was the cherry on top for the day — a good one for sure and a great introduction to birding in Warren County. 🦅
