The Jersey Birder

Looking out my back door on Leap Day

Because of work and other complications, I figured I wasn’t going to get in any birding — let alone bird photos — on this “Leap Day,” the quadrennial 29th of February.

After a quick run to campus and the bank this morning, as I pulled back into my driveway, beyond the roof of our house I spotted a red-tailed hawk perched on one of the large branches of our backyard larch tree.

Trying to make as little fuss as possible, I got out of the car, stepped quickly into the house and made a beeline for my camera. Luckily, when I got to the sliding back door leading to our patio, the hawk was still perched above me.

I pulled the slider aside and, leaning against the door frame, took a dozen or so shots. The sun was beaming in from the southeast, lighting the hawk up nicely. My two favorites shots are above and below.

I finished the month with 66 species spotted in Mercer County, one more than I did last year, and 67 in the state, one less than last year. Now, on to March and migration. Birdcast.info resumes its reports tomorrow!

Red-tailed hawk on horizontal branch. — Looking slightly googly-eyed, the hawk checks me out.

Along the interstate, I find a lifer

Bright sunshine held sway all day today, and my friend Laura and I took advantage of it and headed out this morning for a couple hours of birding. Our first stop was at a scenic overlook along the Delaware River off Interstate 295 near Trenton.

We’d stopped there once previously, only to find a big, distant glob of gulls a long way off in the middle of the river. That day, we didn’t bother to file an eBird report, but we did today.

Under a swirl of ring-billed gulls, we looked out into the river and not far off shore were several scaups. The question was, were they greater or lesser scaups? Either way, I was going to add a new bird to my life list. Our initial assessment was that they were greater scaups, which are infrequent visitors to our part of the world. The light was good, and the birds were close enough that I managed some decent photos of them, including the one topping this post.

Five male and one female lesser scaups floating in the Delaware River. — Lesser (or at least I believe so) scaups — five males and a female — float on the Delaware River.

When I got the images up at home, I consulted several websites to determine the difference between greater and lesser scaups. I changed the ID to lesser, as the bird heads seemed a bit more high and narrow than the more rounded greater scaup heads in the photos I saw online. I asked the Central Jersey birding Facebook group for help, and the one answer I have received so far agreed that lesser was the proper call.

One other bit of evidence, as you can see in the photo at top, the “nail” — that black spot on top of the beak — is a narrow rectangle, typical of the lesser scaup. On the greater scaup, the nail is wider and flange-like. So to me it all adds up to a lesser scaup ID, q.e.d.

The overlook visit was a quick one, and we moved on to John A. Roebling Park at Abbott Marshlands in Trenton. We were determined to find Northern shovelers, a relatively good bet at the marsh this time of year.

Alas, no shovelers were to be found, nor did we find any wood ducks as we’d hoped. But we did find ring-necked ducks, gadwalls, green-winged teals and American wigeons.

An American wigeon in front of a Canada goose, with a mallard in the background, all at a marsh. — In a row: a wigeon in front of a Canada goose, with a mallard at rear.

It took a while, but after several attempts to catch quick-flitting winter wrens on camera, we found a cooperative one near the edge of the parking lot. I was able to get a couple of shots of one for the first time.

With 30 species spotted at the marsh on top of the lifer sighting on the Delaware, we declared the day a ~~roaring~~ tweeting success.

A winter wren, posing just long enough for me to focus and snap.

The father of eBird says keep your cats indoors

John Fitzpatrick on stage at Richardson Auditorium

At today’s annual Alumni Day at Princeton, John Fitzpatrick received the university’s highest honor given to a graduate school alumnus or alumna, the James Madison Medal.

Fitzpatrick, who received his Ph.D. from Princeton in 1978, led the Cornell University Lab of Ornithology from 1995 to 2021. Under his leadership, the lab developed eBird, the voluminous database into which birders worldwide report their sightings.

Fitzpatrick give a lecture before receiving the medal this morning, and I was fortunate to hear it.

Fitzpatrick charmed the audience of several hundred alumni, faculty, staff and students in Richardson Auditorium, recounting highlights from his career and noting some of the alarming findings on declining bird populations, statistics gathered with considerable help from eBird. Fitzpatrick said eBird is believed to be the largest citizen-science research project in existence.

In a brief question-and-answer session after the lecture, Fitzpatrick was asked what individuals and society as a whole can do to reverse the devastating decline in birds.

His quick reply? Keep your cats indoors.

Cats are believed to cause more than 1 billion bird deaths each year in the United States alone. While many of the cats responsible are feral, Fitzpatrick called cats let out of doors by their owners to prowl neighborhoods “subsidized recreational killers.”

Brightly lit buildings are another major killer of birds, which by the thousands crash into buildings at night during spring and fall migration. Data gathered from eBird and other sources can help predict migration peaks and help cities determine what nights its best to dim their lights.

Fitzpatrick also encouraged people to stop using lawn chemicals, many of which are harmful to birds. Not only that, pesticides also decimate insect populations, a major source of food for birds. So don’t coat your lawn with chemicals, he said, but plant native plants or “xeriscape,” that is, use materials that don’t need to be watered (or coated with pesticides).

Fitzpatrick, who once stood in front of a bulldozer to stop a development in Florida, also recommended that supporting local conservation organizations as a good way to help the cause.

The Madison Medal, by the way, is named for James Madison, fourth president of the United States and is considered by Princeton its first graduate student.

A hermit thrush tests my ID skills

As my fifth year of regular birding is underway, my skill at identifying birds has vastly improved. But I still often encounter birds that puzzle me and defy easy identification.

Case in point: this morning at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm, I headed left off the trail from the parking lot, down the alley of trees where I spent the majority of time on my early walks before I gained a broader knowledge of the park. I was a good ways down the trail when I spotted a bird in the trees to my right.

Tufted titmouse? Maybe. A not-fully-developed-in-color Eastern bluebird? Well, I suppose it could be. The bird would settle for a few seconds on one branch, then, as I walked quietly closer, move on to the next tree or the one after it, settling in back where I had to strain through the branches to see it.

After a minute or two, the bird stopped long enough for me to get into position and squeeze off a few shots. I had not bothered with my binoculars other than an initial look, when I saw striping or spotting on the sides of the bird’s white breast.

Some sort of thrush? Could be, but I wasn’t going to rely on my two eyes and bins alone. I needed a photograph. After blasting off a few frames, I was confident I had a couple of decent shots that would help me definitively ID the bird when I got home.

Sure enough, the photos were sharp and clear enough to show the bird’s slender beak and obvious eye rings. Nailed it: hermit thrush.

As I have an affinity for small creatures, I do love the hermit thrush, a cutie for sure. I’m grateful to have encountered this one.

Hermit thrush on a tree branch. — Hermit thrush at the Pole Farm.

Cold breeze, nice light and good birding

We woke up to clear skies and brilliant sunshine this morning, which turned out to be nice conditions for an outing at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm. The highlight was getting to see a male Northern harrier twice swooping along the tree line up the central path, once from a distance and once close enough to get a couple of fair photos.

While the females like the one topping this post are abundant, the males live up to their “gray ghost” nickname. Only a few times a year do I have the privilege of seeing one, and I’ve seen them relatively close only a few times.

Male Northern harrier flying above treetops. — The “gray ghost” soaring past me.

Also today, I hit the sparrow trifecta: song sparrows followed by savannah sparrows and, eventually, American tree sparrows. I expected to see the songs and the savannahs, but the tree sparrows are scarcer and an extra treat whenever I encounter them.

Song sparrow, or is it a savannah? No yellow by the beak, so I’ll say song.

Savannah sparrow, with the light wash of yellow by the eye. Breast streaking looks right, too.

No doubt about this American tree sparrow, with its bicolored beak.

Birds in the snow: an increasingly rare treat

We had two snowfalls this week, on Tuesday and overnight into this morning. Because the snow has been so scarce the past few winters, I made sure to get outside with my camera in hopes of getting some nice shots of birds in the elements.

I didn’t get a great shot but I didn’t get shut out, either.

Three inches or so greeted us Tuesday morning. I made a short visit to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm, but the footing was treacherous and I turned back to the car after a short walk, not having snapped a single frame. I went to Plan B, shooting for a few minutes from inside the house at the feeders out back.

white-throated sparrow eating seed at feeder. — This white-throated sparrow, one of the few I’ve seen at our backyard feeders this winter, paid a nice visit and managed to find a spot amid the house sparrows.

Tuesday’s snow was mostly gone when it began snowing again early this morning. This time, I was more sure of my footing when I got to the Pole Farm.

The first bird I saw was a red-shouldered hawk that often is perched near the Cold Soil Road parking lot. Today, it was up in one of the first trees one passes when leaving the lot, and I was pleased to get a feather-friendly view through the lens.

Red-shouldered hawk in tree. — Red-shouldered hawk, a Pole Farm regular.

While overall I saw only a few birds, six female harriers were out in one of the main fields (one tops this post), and I caught a few Eastern bluebirds along the Lawrence-Hopewell Trail as I returned to my car.

Eastern bluebird on small tree, with snow falling. — With flurries falling, this Eastern bluebird paused atop a spindly tree.

When I returned home, there was a lot of action at the feeders on our front lawn, including the house sparrow and the dark-eyed junco in the gallery below.

In the afternoon, I drove over to Mercer County Park in a vain effort to find bald eagles. The only birds I saw were a great blue heron that flew over the lake, and the ring-billed gull standing on a pier with just a small amount of snow nearby.

I didn’t get the “wow” bird-in-the-snow photo I’d hoped for either day, but the snow was a welcome change in environment, a nice counterbalance to the controlled burn at Mercer Meadows last week. Even better: enough snow melted quickly that I had only minimal shoveling to do.

And speaking of shoveling, I’m hoping to see some Northern shovelers next weekend!

Female house sparrow on snowy branch. — House sparrow

Dark-eyed junco at feeder. — House sparrow

After the fire, the birds return

To keep out those pesky invasive vegetation species, the Mercer County Parks system does a controlled burn early each year at Mercer Meadows. Last week, conditions were right, and several of the meadows were put to the torch.

I visited the Pole Farm yesterday and adjoining Reed Bryan Farm today to check out conditions. Portions of some of the big meadows had been scorched and some were spared, reminiscent of the way farmers rotate their crops.

While a charred scent was in the air yesterday (not so much today), I was pleased to hear and see plenty of birds, albeit on the slower side of an average February day.

The Northern harriers were still swooping over the fields in search of voles, and bluebirds and song sparrows were flitting about. I got one surprise — a trio of Eastern meadowlarks were foraging in a burned out section of one of the central fields. One of them is shown in the photo at the top of this post.

In olden days, wildfires that renewed Mercer Meadows and other sections of New Jersey did their work on a natural pace. Nowadays, the rangers and firefighters do the job, and it’s always nice to see how quickly the birds and grasses recover. The meadows will be verdant again in a few weeks.

View of one of the scorched fields from the Lawrence-Hopewell Trail cutting through the Pole Farm.

Sitting on a park bench, eyeing bald eagles with photo intent

Some outings are long walks, and others are short, each with their own charms. Today, I had a typical walk at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm in the morning. In the afternoon, I headed over to Mercer County Park in hopes of sighting and shooting photos of a few eagles.

It was a short walk from the marina parking lot to the viewing area by a gazebo on a finger of land that juts into the lake. I saw two mature bald eagles soaring overhead as I approached the gazebo. I got off a few quick shots before the birds headed off to the distance.

I parked myself on a bench, and a short while later another pair of eagles appeared almost directly overhead. I was able to shoot up at them as they soared overhead.

The sun was out in full, and I managed to get an a few decent shots, all of which needed to be cropped because the birds were far away. I’m not complaining. Any sighting of a bald eagle is cause for celebration. Any photos I can get are gravy.

Bald eagle soaring behind and below a portion of an American flag. — This was one of the first eagles I spotted, and it came the closest to me of any of them.

Are the birds hinting at spring?

As the dreary days of winter drag on, I’m ever on alert for early signs of spring. Maybe the imminent arrival of Groundhog Day is stoking my curiosity, but I know for sure that certain bird behavior hints that hope springs vernal!

As I stepped out of the house yesterday morning, I heard a cardinal singing somewhere down our street. Although cardinals are a near daily sight in our yard, it had been a long while since I’d heard one singing.

When I got out to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm, I spotted sparrows on the ground and in the trees as usual, but I noticed a few savannah sparrows perched on tall grasses and spindly tree branches, as in the top photo. To me, that perching is an early hint of spring.

An even surer sign came toward the end of my walk when, having caught up with my friend Andy on the trail, we spotted a pair of Eastern bluebirds poking in and out of a bird box. While bluebirds stick around most of the year, it’s rare to spot them flitting about a bird box in the dead of winter.

The seeming nesting activity we saw yesterday gives me hope that the songbirds will soon again be singing lustily to ring in spring.

A pair of Eastern. bluebirds check out a nesting box. Any idea what that greenish blob on the roof is?

A long look at a short-eared owl

In my few short years of being a serious birder, owl sightings have been few. I’ve seen short-eared owls flying around sunset a few times and I’ve snatched partial glimpses at long-eared owls tucked deep into the trees.

But last Saturday morning I received an unexpected treat at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm. A short-eared owl was perched up in the lone, big tree in the center of one of the main fields, and the bird could be clearly seen even without binoculars.

Landscape at Pole Farm, with snow, tall grasses and lone, bare tree. — You can just make out the form of the owl on the left side of the tree.

The bird, I learned later, stayed up in the tree for several hours, preferring that sunny perch to something low down on the snowy ground. I blasted off several dozen shots on a few camera settings, and I shot from a couple of locations to minimize the chances of small branches obscuring the owl.

Although I didn’t get a straight-on shot showing both or the bird’s beautiful orange eyes in full, I’m satisfied and grateful for the looks I got.