My ‘Big Day’ gets off to a nice (red)start

I suffer from warbler deprivation syndrome. I head to the woods, hoping to find multiple migrants flitting above me or, even better, right in front of me. I was feeling particularly underserved by the warbler community as I headed to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm early this morning.

While my Merlin app the last couple of weeks has tantilized — taunted? — me with reports of multiple warblers, I’d basically drawn a blank. No Blackburnians, no magnolias, not even a black and white. But today, when I had a limited opportunity to get out on Global Big Day, my luck turned.

An orchard oriole greeted me as I left the parking lot, although I couldn’t find the bird in the big, leafed out tree just off the trail. Same for the yellow warbler lurking just beyond.

But as I made my way down the trail and into the woods, I noticed a small bird in a tree 30 yards or so away. It had its back to me, but my pulse quickened when I saw the orange and black colors — an American redstart, by George! The bird turned about and I snapped a few frames, at least one of which I could tell was reasonably sharp. That image tops this post.

I believe I took a shot of a female redstart in a previous year, but this was, as far as I know, the first male I’d ever shot.

I continued on my favorite loop around the park, with Merlin again teasing me to warblers in my midst. But I wasn’t finding any until I got to the old AT&T Building One oval. I spotted a blue-gray gnatcatcher high up in the wall of trees behind the oval. He was putting on an acrobatic performance, I got several shots, including the right-side-up and upside-down poses below.

Blue-gray gnatcatcher perched on a leafy branch.
Blue-gray gnatcatcher, in a rare static position.
Blue-gray gnatcatcher reaching backward in a tree.
Same bird, different orientation.

My hour-plus ramble had me record 34 species, a nice haul for Global Big Day. They included a Northern parula that was perched only a few feet from the gnatcatcher at one of its brief stops.

I only had the one chance to get out birding, as my wife and I headed into New York City for a 1st birthday celebration for our youngest grandchild. The redstart was great, but the birthday party was the true highlight of the day. 🦅

Patience paid off: My first common yellowthroat photos of 2025

I’ve been hearing common yellowthroats for the past couple of weeks, and I’d managed to catch glimpses of them a couple of times. I knew that if I were patient, I’d eventually get a clear shot. That happened this morning, and in an unexpected way.

Common yellowthroats typically lurk in the grasses and often pop up to sing. I heard one as soon as I stepped out of my car this morning at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm, but not in a typical spot. I parked in the lot on Blackwell Road that forms the northern border of the park, separating it from Rosedale Park.

I headed to the trail that parallels the road, hoping to catch sight of a yellow-breasted chat that had been recently reported and photographed there. I spent a good chunk of my 70-minute visit hearing a chat (as confirmed by my Merlin app) but never spotting it.

I wandered around the corner of the the trail, heading toward the heart of the Pole Farm. At one point, I looked up high at a bare tree and spotted a common yellowthroat at the top. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one that far above ground before, but as the photo below shows, it was unmistakably a common yellowthroat.

Common yellowthroat perched and leaning forward atop a bare tree.
A common yellowthroat, way up high.

On my way back to my car, I heard another yellowthroat close by in the tall grasses. I spotted him and took a few shots before he flew off into the grass. I was able to track him as he eventually came closer into view, and I caught him mid-song. One of those photos tops this post.

I look forward to more close and photo-friendly encounters with common yellowthroats in the weeks ahead. Who knows — I may even get to get a shot of yellow-breasted chat! 🦅

A cuckoo surprise to start the day

Unpredictably is one of the true pleasures of birding. You simply have no clue when something unusual will appear.

So it was Saturday when I pulled into the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm parking lot around 7 o’clock in the morning. I had just put my car in park when Lee pulled in beside me.

I’d seen Lee on a couple of previous Pole Farm visits, and little did we know that we were in for a treat almost immediately on our walk. We left the lot, headed up the trail and quickly spotted a bird in the big tree to our left.

The tree is almost fully leafed out. It took us a while to get a fix on the bird, which would land for a few seconds, then pop over to another branch. The bird was long and slender with a pale belly and a vivid red eye ring, leading us to an unexpected conclusion: it was a cuckoo, a visitor that stops by briefly each spring.

But which cuckoo was it — black-billed or yellow-billed?

I had a devil of a time trying to focus on the bird, and Lee was giving it his best efforts, too. After a few minutes, the bird flew over to the alley of trees to the left of the main trail. Lee and I followed but lost sight of the bird.

I checked Merlin’s photos of cuckoos, and the red eye ring pointed us toward black-billed. Lee checked his camera, and he had a clear shot that showed a black bill. Without a doubt, we’d seen a black-billed cuckoo.

I didn’t bother to check my photos until I got home. The best of the lot tops this post, and it shows the bird’s black bill and the red rim on eye.

Lee and I came out of the tree alley and headed up the central path. There were plenty of birds, but few that popped into sight long enough for me to grab a shot. Eventually we reached the AT&T Building One oval, hoping to find a few warblers. No dice. We moved along toward the Lawrence Hopewell trail and as soon as we hit the pavement, we heard the rapid bub-bub-bub call of a cuckoo from the trees.

I whipped out my Merlin app. Within a few seconds, the screen lit up: “black-billed cuckoo.” I saved the recording but didn’t realize until I got home that I also caught a bit of Lee and me talking.

He’d been telling me about a relatively close encounter he’d had with a red-shouldered hawk, and we heard the cuckoo in about the same spot. Once we heard the cuckoo, we wanted to see it. I suggested looping around on a side trail, as you can hear on the recording.

When you hit play, you can heard the cuckoo calling faintly. You’ll hear Lee and me talking, then hear the bird again. The “good stuff” goes on for about 40 seconds, and the rest of the recording (which I didn’t have time to trim) plays itself out with the cuckoo thrumming and a mourning dove hooting in the distance.

Was it the same bird that we saw at the start of our walk? We’ll never know. The bird near the parking lot wasn’t calling, and we couldn’t see the second one (not that it would have made a difference. Birds don’t wear nametags!). I logged one cuckoo on e-Bird. Whether it was one or two, it was a treat, and it made our day. 🦅

Bird counts ramp up as the weather warms

There’s no denying that Spring brings out the birds. It was sunny and light-jacket warm this morning when I visited the Pole Farm, and I was hoping to get a few shots of the common yellowthroats that have returned to the fields.

I heard many but was only able to spot one, a male who inconveniently for me hunkered deep in the grasses. My camera couldn’t focus, yet I wasn’t concerned. I’ll have many chances to capture those black-and-gold beauties for many weeks to come.

I noticed the first catbird of the season on one of the feeders at home Tuesday evening, so I wasn’t surprised when I heard a couple of them today near the AT&T Building One oval. The first one I spotted was tucked into a newly blooming tree, singing while looking nearly straight at me.

Gray catbird, beak open to sing, while sitting on a branch surrounded by green leaves and pink blossoms.
Gray catbird, looking dead ahead while singing.

I also had some nice looks at several robins (note the top photo) and Eastern bluebirds. The first bluebird I spotted had its back turned to me, and at first glance I thought it was a blue grosbeak. But it’s too early for those, and I dutifully recorded bluebird No. 1 in my e-Bird app. I spotted a few other bluebirds later on my walk. They never cease to impress me with their stunning colors.

After so many barren months of winter, it’s a treat to see colorful birds set against the emerging leaves and blossoms of the trees on which they perch. Welcome to the wonderful world of vernal color! 🦅

Eastern bluebird perched on slender branch.
Eastern bluebird, sidelit by the morning sun.

Welcome back, lusty-voiced birds!

I love this time of year, when our seasonal visitors return. I had the pleasure of welcoming back two full-throated birds to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm this morning.

After clearing the fields and reaching the woods, I was on alert for whatever migrants might be stopping by or arriving for a longer stay. Then I heard what at first I thought was a cardinal, but that wasn’t quite right. I had turned on Merlin, and there it was — ovenbird.

Ovenbird on tree branch, shot from below.
The ovenbird

The loud chip-chip-chip song was coming from nearby. I swiveled my head to find the bird silhouetted 20 feet or so above me on a tree branch. It took a couple of hops and finally came into a clear spot where I could focus.

Although I regularly hear ovenbirds at the Pole Farm, I don’t often spot them, let alone get to snap a photo of one. I’m grateful that I got a couple of shots so early in the season.

I continued through the woods on my two-mile loop. As I came into the clear on the central path to return to my car, I heard another familiar song — “ricky-ricky-ricky” — a common yellowthroat.

The bird was out of sight, deep in the grass, and only sang a couple of verses. Although I couldn’t get a shot, I moved on with a smile on my face. I’ll have plenty of chances to take photos of my little yellow-and-black friends as the warm weather comes on. 🦅

All hail the Northern cardinal

What is it about Northern cardinals that makes us homo sapiens swoon? Whenever I post a batch of bird photos to Facebook, if there’s a cardinal in the lot, it usually draws the most likes and comments,

The cardinal is the state bird of my native Ohio, and I’ve always known them since I was a kid. The brilliant red males get more attention than the more understated females, but photos of them also get a good reaction.

Female cardinal, taken a few days ago.

Cardinals abound in my neck of the woods in central New Jersey, their cheery songs carrying clearly through our neighborhood and virtually every patch of greenery and woods for miles in every direction.

This morning, I had the good fortune to catch the male cardinal shown above, perched on a tree at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm. I maneuvered without success to get a clear shot without the small branch in front of him, but I’m not disappointed. The bird is beautiful, and the photo captures him and the setting.

Thank you, Mr. Cardinal, for sharing your song and a few moments with me. 🦅

Wood ducks brighten the day

At least one Virginia rail is hanging out in the big pond at the center of the Charles Rogers Wildlife Refuge in Princeton, and I stopped there before work Monday.

I was hoping as on previous visits merely to hear a rail, a bird that hides among the reeds and rarely ventures into view when birders come near. While I didn’t hear the rail that others have recently reported on e-Bird, I was delighted to see through the reeds a male wood duck floating in the water beyond them.

Focusing was tricky, and after shooting several frames I moved off the observation platform at the parking lot and walked along the trail for a short while. Not seeing much other than a few robins, I turned back toward my car and the observation platform.

Male wood duck floating on pond, as seen through reeds in front of the bird.
I’m pleased that my Canon R-7 was able to focus reasonably well on the duck. It took several attempts to get autofocus to lock onto it.

Another birder happily pointed to two male wood ducks on tree branches on the back edge of the pond, and one of my shots of that tops this post.

The male wood duck is spectacularly colorful, and the morning sun played the colors up nicely.

I’m not sure where the female wood ducks were — maybe they were hiding in the reeds with the Virginia rail! 🦅

A suprisingly good morning for photos

After a few days of rain and a forecast for heavy clouds today, I wasn’t expecting good conditions for photos as I headed to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm this morning.

I was hoping that I might be able to spot a few early arriving warblers in the trees, which wasn’t to be. But I had surprisingly good fortune to find several birds out in the open and within range for my camera.

Walking up from the parking lot, I took the tree-lined path to my left. Other than a couple of glimpses of robins and blackbirds, nothing caught my eye.

As I cleared the woods and rounded the curve toward the observation deck, I heard two Eastern meadowlarks calling to one another, one on each side of the trail. It took a few minutes before I spotted the one to my right perched on a post. The bird was backlit, and my photos were poor.

Eastern meadowlark, beak open, singing from branch of small tree.

I had better luck to my left. As I passed the observation deck, I flushed the other meadowlark, which flew only a few yards back into the grass. One of the shots tops this post, and I’ve stitched in an even sharper shot here in the text.

I then entered the central woods of the park but didn’t see much on the first two stretches of trail. I decided not to make my usual turn to cross the woods but to stay straight on the trail until I reached the edge of the Reed-Bryan Farm side of the park.

Feeling good, I figured I would increase my chances of seeing more birds if I went through the Reed Bryan fields. After slogging through two muddy stretches of the trail, I was rewarded with a nice view of a Northern flicker, one of at least three I observed.

Northern flicker in profile, perched on a branch near the trunk of a tree.
Northern flicker in profile, showing some of her yellow shafts.

Moments later, I heard and then saw my first Eastern towhee of the year. I also heard at least one wild turkey gobbling in the distance, another first report for 2025.

I reached the AT&T Building One oval but didn’t find anything to shoot. I finally turned toward the parking lot, following the dirt path that splits the main fields.

I came upon another birder who had just seen a Vesper sparrow, a bird that has bedeviled me. I have yet to see one, and today would be no different.

That disappointment dissipated down the trail, when I spotted a couple of Eastern bluebirds. One flew away from me, but not so far that I couldn’t catch it parked on a branch, its brilliant blue feathers shimmering vibrantly in the filtered sunlight.

That’s a pretty good day of birding and nature photography! 🦅

Eastern bluebird perched on a small tree.
Eastern bluebird

Bird Safe program at Princeton saves bird lives

Distressed over the heartbreaking number of birds killed by striking windows on campus, a group of Princeton University students set out on ambitious plan to study the problem and find a solution.

Their inspiring work has led to changes in the university’s building procedures, saving the lives of countless numbers of birds. The students of the Princeton Birding Society who devised the program are featured in a 10-minute documentary directed by Jared Flesher and produced by the Princeton Office of Sustainability. The video premiered Thursday on YouTube. I encourage you to watch.

I know the students featured in the film, Patrick (a senior) and Claire (a recent graduate). To say I admire them is an understatement. Patrick and Claire were members of the Princeton team that won the World Series of Birding in 2022.

I also know the featured faculty member, Professor Cassie Stoddard, who sponsored and advised on the project. I admire her, too.

As you’ll see from the video, patterned film has been placed on many windows on campus where the students often found birds dead on the ground. Now, new construction includes the window film, which breaks up the window reflections that otherwise might seem like clear flying for a bird.

I find it slightly, amusingly ironic that the Bird Safe film debuts at a time when I’m still dealing with a daft song sparrow, whom I have named Basher, who keeps attacking the windows of our dining room every morning.

My wife set a couple of stuffed animals in the windowsills, which seemed to have kept Basher at bay for a few days. But he has returned, and I spent a portion of the last two mornings waving him away. The bird seems none the worse for his repeated beak pecks at our windows.

I’m not sure the bird film we’re installing on campus would keep this sparrow away.

Regardless, I am pleased with the success our Princeton students have had preventing bird deaths on campus. Patrick, Claire and their fellow birders have made a difference here, and I’m sure they will make a difference in our world in the years ahead. 🦅

An end-of-the-hike surprise

I have always depended on the kindness of other birders. Yesterday was no exception as I finished my walk around Spring Lake at John A. Roebling Park, a.k.a. Trenton marsh.

Yellow-rumped warbler pausing momentarily in a tree.

As I was finishing my loop around the lake, I spotted at least three yellow-rumped warblers in the trees near the parking lot. They were my first sightings of the year.

In that nearly hour-long trek around the lake, I saw not a single bird on the water. Not a mallard in the marsh or a gadwall on the lake. Most days, the marsh and lake are teeming with waterfowl, but not on this drab gray Saturday afternoon.

As I approached my car, I spotted a woman with binoculars and a camo-covered long lens in the lot. I said hello and noted that although I’d heard and seen many cardinals and blackbirds, not a single bird was on the water.

To my delight, she motioned toward the lake and said, “There’s a pied-billed grebe out there.” She pointed to where the bird was dunking itself, and soon I spotted it, my first of the year.

A short while later, the woman — Stephanie — spotted a second grebe. They were fairly close to each other, and for a while it seemed one or the other was underwater. Finally, they started diving nearly synchronously. The sky was heavily overcast, so conditions weren’t great for photos. I never did get a clear shot of both of them floating, so I had to settle for a couple of frames of one of them.

One of the pied-billed grebes, brightening a day sorely lacking in sunshine.

It turned out a third grebe was swimming and diving farther back on the lake, adding to the charm of the moment. I’d never previously seen two grebes simultaneously, let alone three.

I’m grateful to Stephanie for pointing out birds I otherwise would not have noticed or had the pleasure of watching cavort on a lake otherwise barren of wildlife. 🦅