Indoor ‘birding’ at the Princeton University Art Museum

With winds gusting to 50 mph today, I was not in the mood to battle the cold when I expected few birds would be flying. Instead, I headed to the Princeton University Art Museum, intent on pursuing a weird idea: to find birds depicted in the museum’s collections.

The new museum, which opened to the public Oct. 31, was built on the same spot on campus where the previous museum was located. The new museum has a greater gallery capacity in which to show off its outstanding collections.

On this, my second visit to the new building, I spent the bulk of my time on the second floor, where the standing exhibits are based, everything from ancient sculpture to modern paintings.

At the top of the stairway that takes visitors from the lobby to the second floor, I spotted the first bird: a dove hovering between the angel and Mary in a stained-glass depiction of the Annunciation. The placard explaining the piece included commentary from Virginia Raguin, an emeritus professor at my alma mater, the College of the Holy Cross, where I minored in art history.

A white dove hovers between Mary, in a blue gown and holding her hands in prayer, and an angel, robed in red with index finger extended.
Stained-glass depiction of the Annunciation, circa 1600 from either the Netherlands or northern Italy.

As I entered a gallery that features several Impressionist paintings, I was drawn to a 1903 Monet featuring a flock of seagulls flying before the Houses of Parliament in London. A photo of that painting tops this post.

Turning a corner, I found a spectacular painting from the early 1600s, Cupid Supplicating Jupiter, credited to Willem Panneels, after Peter Paul Rubens. A huge eagle dominates the foreground of the painting. On the same wall was a painting by Rubens himself depicting Jupiter, in the guise of an eagle, abducting Ganymede, who would become cup-bearer to the god (aka Zeus to the Greeks).

A huge eagle in foreground spreads its wings. Behind, naked Cupid with angel wings approaches the god Jupiter, bare-chested and otherwise wrapped in a flowing red garment.
The eagle steals the scene in this painting of Cupid appealing to Jupiter.
Ganymede, blond-haired and naked, is grabbed by a large brown eagle.
Abduction of Ganymede.

The eagle paintings were the most spectacular depictions of birds that I found during my visit, and I make no claim that I saw every bird in the galleries. There are hundreds of objects on display, many of them small items displayed in glass cases.

One of my favorite aspects of the new museum is what I jokingly refer to as the Gallery of Useful Pots to Put Things In. It’s a splendidly lit set of cases surrounding an atrium, and the shelves are full of cups, bowls, pitchers, ewers and other items from a wide range of cultures. I’ve included a few of those items in the gallery immediately below.

A duck, perhaps?
Owl and duck, methinks.
A cool pitcher with a long beak.
L-R, a bowl with a goose-necked bird, a bowl with a bird, and an owl. Note how my hand and iPhone are reflected below the objects.

Throughout the galleries, I found several depictions of birds from up and down the centuries of human history. This gallery shows a few more.

Bronze ibis, Egypt (712-332 BCE)
Oinochoe (jug), Cypress, ca. 750-550 BCE
Owls, China, 2nd-1st century BCE
Birds top right, Snowy Morning, Japan, 1830
Crane detail, vase, Korea, 12th-13th century

One of my favorite paintings seen today was by a contemporary artist, Becky Suss. Her “August, 2016” work that takes up most of a wall includes a lamp featuring a base resembling a peregrine falcon.

Interior of a house, with love seats facing one another and a lamp with a large bird for a base.
“August 2016” by Becky Suss

What I’ve posted represents most of the birds I observed, but I’m sure there are more to discover on future visits, which will be frequent. The museum is free to all comers and is open daily, with the exception of a few major holidays. If you can’t make it to Princeton, the museum’s website has a rich trove of photos of its collections. 🦅

Eagles aplenty, and a visitor from the Arctic

My friend Jim and I crossed the Delaware River from Trenton this morning on a hunt for a rare visitor from the Arctic: a rough-legged hawk. Amazingly, we spotted the bird almost immediately, but the morning had much more in store for us.

The rough-legged hawk had been reported the previous few days hunting around the Penn Warner Club, a private fishing and recreation area at the south end of Morrisville, Pennsylvnia. The town is along the Delaware River roughly 30 miles north of Philadelphia.

View to the North from the club parking lot. We spotted the rough-legged hawk along the ridge line in the distance. Two red-tailed hawks perched on posts at the top of the hill.

As Jim and I drove into our target area on Bordentown Road, he spotted two bald eagles in a roadside tree –– a good omen. We turned to the road that would take us to a club parking lot and soon spotted a hawk-like bird perched on a pipe at the top of the ridge to our left. Pulling off to the side of the public road, we hopped out of the car and trained binoculars and cameras on the bird.

Rough-legged hawk perched atop a post with a hose connecting to it.
Rough-legged hawk.

After a minute or two, the bird flew off. We checked our camera screens and got our proof. The bird had a mostly white face with a white bib above a dark body — a rough-legged hawk.

We drove to the club parking lot a short way ahead and spotted a few more bald eagles in trees along the way. Once at the lot, we spotted four bald eagles atop a power transmission tower, and I watched as a fifth eagle harassed one of them. Both flew off.

At another point, we saw three eagles atop another tower, and there were many others alone or together in trees and on an ice sheet on a lake off the road.

The eagles were a mix of adults and juveniles, so many young ones that I was heartened for the future of the bird that once was on the precipice of extinction.

Bald eagle standing atop a power transmission tower, with icicles hanging from the crossbeam on which it was perched.
Mature bald eagle up high, atop a power tower.

A passing motorist told us there were more bald eagles down the road, and we confirmed that as we drove south. We stopped near a bridge that spanned a cove where we saw a coot, buffleheads and ruddy ducks. Farther out on the water were hundreds of common mergansers, with many others flying overhead.

Male “gray ghost” Northern harrier standing on the ground.

Toward the end of our two-hour visit, we spotted red-tailed hawks, male and female Northern harriers, and an American kestrel. Jim’s hunch that a bird we saw atop one of the power towers was a peregrine falcon turned out to be accurate once we got home and checked our photos.

We figure we saw around 30 eagles, an astonishing total and the largest number I’ve ever seen. My previous high total was 27 bald eagles I saw at Mendenhall Glacier in Juneau, Alaska, 30 years ago.

I gained a lifer in the rough-legged hawk, which we spotted a second time on our way back up the road. It flew from one post to another, so we drove a bit to see it clearly and closer on the second post. As soon as I pulled my camera out of the car, the bird flew off. I believe Jim got a shot of that, and we decided it was time for us to head off, too. 🦅

Note: the Penn Warner Club is private, members only, as signs near the gates to several sections plainly note. Jim and I parked briefly on the sides of the road and at a few pullouts. Several other birders parked with us at the parking lot by the club’s main entrance. We did not venture farther onto club land and don’t recommend it for others.

American tree sparrows are back

While pulling into the Pole Farm parking lot the other day, I declared my goal: to spot an American tree sparrow. Reports of the winter-visit birds had been trickling in on e-Bird, but I’d yet to see one this season.

I was in luck, however, on this day-before-Christmas visit. I’d brought along my friend Jim, who has logged more species in Mercer County than anyone on e-Bird and has near-instant recognition of any bird appearing.

We were hoping to spot a long-eared owl, as we’d seen one in the woods the week before. We checked in the areas where we’ve seen long-eared owls in years past but couldn’t find any.

Jim spotted a hermit thrush at the old AT&T Building One site, and the bird parked in a cedar tree long enough for us to get good looks at it.

Hermit thrush seen from below. Its perched on a cedar tree branch, its spotted chest and eye ring clearly shown.
The hermit thrush, which we heard calling repeatedly before finding it.

As we exited the woods and headed down the trail back to the car, I spotted a few sparrows to my left and started shooting. Jim quickly made the ID: American tree sparrows — eureka!

Amid a tangle of small tree branches, an American tree sparrow looks toward the sun.
One of the tree sparrows. From this angle, you can just make out its bicolored beak, black upper and yellow lower.

I’ve made a couple of quick visits to the Pole Farm late in the day lately in the hope of spotting short-eared owls, which typically emerge just before dawn and at sunset. I had spotted one earlier this month, but it appeared to be an anomaly.

As one of my other birder friends noted, you can tell the owls aren’t out because the Cold Soil Road parking lot isn’t full at 4 p.m. as it is when the shorties are hunting in force.

Even though I’ve seen only the one short-eared owl, I have seen a few Northern harriers at sunset, including the “gray ghost” male. I haven’t captured the ghost on camera yet this season, but I’ll keep trying. 🦅

The Canada goose stands on guard

From the fall through the winter and into spring, the golf course that sprawls just beyond our property line becomes a haven for Canada geese. I daresay the fairways of Cobblestone Creek Country Club see more takeoffs and landings in one day than Pearson Airport in Toronto.

My wife and I generally are amused by the geese that nibble on the grass. Occasionally, they get crosswise and one will charge another for a few moments until harmony is restored.

The geese spread out on the first three holes of the golf course’s back nine that we can see out our kitchen and dining room windows. We have a fascinating vantage point from which to watch their behavior.

Upon approach to the course, the geese typically arrive in waves of wedges. The leader of the first vee circles over the course, apparently checking for the best spot to land. Once that group touches down, others follow quickly. Within a few minutes 200-300 geese are munching away on the ground.

What we find particularly fascinating is that “sentinel geese” set up at the edges of the foraging swarms. Most of the time the sentinels squat on the ground, although sometimes they stand briefly, as does the goose in the center foreground of the photo topping this post. While most of the flock eats contentedly, the sentinel geese face away and watch for the approach of anything untoward.

Occasionally, anything untoward means a pickup truck from the golf course maintenance crew that rolls down the cart path to scare the geese off. As one, the geese squawk raucously, rise and fly away en masse — likely to another part of the course.

Canada geese migrating over the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm in October 2020.

U.S. federal law has protected Canada geese for more than a century, and New Jersey also has its own protections for them. The species is thriving today, with year-round resident and migratory populations. While they don’t rank high on the colorful-feather scale, Canada geese are part of our natural ecosystem, and I’m glad and grateful that they enliven our days. 🦅

For the solstice, a harrier at sunset

Today is the first full day of winter, and I found time in the afternoon to visit Trenton marsh while still buzzing about my visits to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm yesterday.

I joined a group of birders there Saturday morning hoping to spot for a second time the wayward Townsend’s warbler that had been foraging in the cedars since mid-week. Alas, I had no luck with the warbler, which by now I hope is on its way west to its normal range beyond the Rocky Mountains.

The sun shone most of the day, and I went back to the Pole Farm yesterday afternoon about 4 p.m., hoping to see and photograph Northern harriers and short-eared owls, which emerge around sunset. While I would spot none of the latter, the first of three harriers appeared to the west.

As I started tracking and shooting it, I was aware that I had a slim hope for a shot of it transiting the setting sun. I was so focused on tracking the bird that I didn’t realize it flew almost directly overhead before flying out of sight.

Two other harriers emerged but were too far off even to snap a frame. Accepting that I got what I was going to get, I headed home to see what my camera had captured. Most of the shots were fuzzy or overly dark, but I found two frames that I felt worth sharing.

I typically aim to get a strong image of a bird first, putting its context in nature second. Given the challenging light and the onset of the winter solstice, I chose for the top of this post a moody wide shot of the harrier flying across the field in front of me. The bird’s wingtips are highlighted by the setting sun, and the bare trees in the background help convey the mood of the moment: a chilly few minutes before sundown at the solstice.

I include below a second image of the harrier backlit by the sun, which was moments away from dropping fully below the horizon. 🦅

Wings backlit by the setting sun, a Northern harrier flies in front of bare trees at the back of a Pole Farm field.
Backlit by the sun, a Northern harrier soars over a field.

A rare Pole Farm visitor from the west: a Townsend’s warbler

We had a bit of birding excitement this week when a Townsend’s warbler was spotted at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm. Word got out Wednesday afternoon, and I hoped when I’d be able go to the park on Thursday that the bird would still be around.

I got to the park around 9 a.m. and, judging by the unusually high number of vehicles in the parking lot, guessed that the warbler was the reason.

With my new knee still settling in, I picked my way carefully up the snow-covered central path and soon spotted a few birders near the entrance to the woods. They reported that the Townsend’s warbler was indeed still in residence and that they were waiting for it to reappear in the nearby cedars.

I chatted with a few other birders a bit farther up the path, then came back to the group at the edge of the woods. After a bit, I decided it would be best to head back to the car. As I left, I told the group that my departure would increase the odds of the bird coming back.

I had gone maybe 50 yards down the path when I heard a commotion: the bird was back! Some newly arriving birders and I quick-stepped up the trail and spotted the bird flitting about the cedars.

I saw it pop up several times, but I wasn’t able to a photo. I took the unusual step of asking Google Gemini to create a banner image for this post.

I knew the Townsend’s warbler was rare for the Pole Farm, but until reading up on it on the All About Birds website, I didn’t realize how far from home it was. This is a West Coast bird in North America, so I can only imagine the journey it took to get here and how confused it likely is on its surroundings.

I don’t know if the bird stuck around today but I wish it safe passage home whenever conditions are favorable. 🦅

A rare chance to see birds in snow

With the snow falling this morning, I headed to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm hoping to get some good shots. These years, we typically get only a few snowfalls, so when the white stuff comes down, I’m extra eager to get out with my camera.

The gate to the Cold Soil Road parking lot was locked when I arrived, so I drove over to the lot along Keefe Road and was welcomed by several dark-eyed juncos as I started my walk. A photo of one of them tops this post.

I enter the park from the Keefe lot only occasionally, and I had to trudge through about four inches of snow. Another inch or so would fall before the storm moved off.

I didn’t see any birds as I passed through a short stretch of woods. Tree branches were bending under the weight of the snow, a pleasing sight.

The path ahead of me, with a meadow to the left and woods on the right.

As I continued, I spotted a song sparrow perched atop some grasses near one of the wooden bridges along the trail. The bird posed for a good minute or so, giving me the clearest shots I’d get. With a heavy overcast sky, it was difficult to see through the viewfinder, and I felt as if I were shooting blind for a good part of my visit.

The song sparrow posing for me, with a couple of snowflakes shown falling between us.

Farther up the trail, I entered another clearing and watched three female Northern harriers fly overhead. The third came relatively close to the path, and I tried my best to track it and keep it in focus.

The third harrier, with snowflakes partially obscuring parts of its body and wings.

I was grateful to get a few fair shots of that last harrier, and it took me a bit to understand that I also managed to capture some of the snowflakes through which it was flying. My first thought was that it was digital noise, as I was shooting at ISO 3200.

From there, I walked back to the car, snapping photos of a few more juncos congregating near the parking lot. Although I saw relatively few species, I considered the trip a success. I hope to get back tomorrow, when the sun is expected to shine. 🦅

Nothing beats a bald eagle

Symbol of America, the bald eagle is a magnificent bird. I had the privilege of seeing two of them this morning. I got one of them on camera in Princeton as I was driving away from the Millstone River Impoundment.

I was heading to U.S. 1 when I looked to my right and saw the eagle fly to the top of a tree just off the road. Surprised at my good fortune, I pulled off the road, put my flashers on and walked across the street to get a view unobstructed by telephone wires.

The eagle turned its head a couple of times and stayed long enough to give me time to frame my shots. I estimate the bird was about 25 feet above the ground, a rare opportunity to zoom in on the upper half of its body.

The headshot topping this post was cropped from one of the frames. I also got a couple of full-body shots, as below.

A bald eagle looks down from its perch atop a bare tree.
Bald eagle in the tree top.

After the bird flew away, I got back in the car and drove a few miles to the Dyson Tract along the Delaware and Raritan Canal. As I got out of my car, I spotted another eagle flying off, out of camera range but firm evidence of how fortunate we are that the eagles are still here to inspire us and for us to admire. 🦅

Close encounters of the bird kind

With birding as in life, you never know what lies around the corner. I had two great blue heron sightings today. This morning, from the main observation platform at the Charles Rogers Preserve in Princeton, I spotted a heron at the edge of the reeds on the back side of the pond in the center of the park.

I extended my zoom lens to 600 mm and took a few shots, which turned out better than my low expectations. It was the only bird I managed to get a clear shot of. There were plenty of white-throated sparrows and one or two hermit trushes singing, but they stayed in the shadows.

Great blue heron across the pond at the Rogers preserve.

The sun was still shining brightly this afternoon, and the temperature rose a few degrees above freezing. I decided to see what I could find at John A. Roebling Park, a.k.a. Trenton marsh.

The visit started well. Getting out of my car, I could see several mallards in the marsh. On closer inspection, I discovered that several Northern shovelers were swimming with the mallards. Even a green-winged teal was among them.

I wandered up the trail that skirts the marsh, heading toward the bridge that connects to the back island. When I came out of the trees, I was startled to see a great blue heron standing just to the left of the bridge, roughly a mere 25 feet ahead of me.

The big bird’s back was to me, but it turned its head a couple of times, offering profile shots. The one topping this post was my pick for best of the lot, and I also like this next one. It’s a bit moodier than the other portrait.

A great blue heron, seen from behind, looks to its right onto an inlet at Trenton marsh.
One of the first shots I got of the heron as it looked out onto the water.

I assume the bird heard my camera shutter, as it flew off after I squeezed off roughly a dozen frames. I’m glad it stuck around for those few seconds and gave me such a nice opportunity. 🦅

Cold-weather birding is back

It was a chilly 13 degrees Fahrenheit when I reached the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm yesterday morning. Even without a breeze, few birds were out half an hour after sunrise. But avian activity picked up as I reached the woods up the central trail.

First to appear were several robins flitting about the trees.

American robin in profile, sitting in a tree, with its beak slightly raised.
American robin perching in a tree.

I went a few steps farther and heard furious pecking somewhere above. Initially, I could only see the bird’s back. The pecking was so aggressive and loud that I guessed it was a hairy woodpecker. But I finally maneuvered into a spot where I got a few shots including its head and beak, which settled the ID: downy woodpecker.

Beak open, a downy woodpecker clings to a tree branch, poised to strike the bark.
Downy woodpecker, caught for a moment during a vigorous pecking stretch.

Stepping ahead a few yards, I spotted another woodpecker, this one a female red-bellied (shown in photo topping this post). She was lit up nicely in the sun.

That sun not only made her look good, but it made a big difference to me. The cold air was bracing, and the bright sun plus the lack of wind made my mile-and-a-quarter stroll pleasant, with one exception.

Well, two exceptions: my hands. Even with good gloves, my fingers were cold, in part because I was taking them off to log my sightings in e-Bird and to adjust my binoculars and camera.

I had brought along some “Little Hotties” hand warmers. But they were duds, probably because I bought them a couple of winters back. I learned the (cold) hard way that they expire.

I have a rechargeable Zippo warmer, which I used exclusively last winter. I’ll be relying on it from here on out to keep my hands comfortable.

One of these days I’ll invest in a pair of gloves designed for outdoor photographers. If anyone has a recommendations, I’d be delighted to hear it. 🦅