Great light brightens the birds

My last two outings to Mercer Meadows brought lighting challenges and opportunities. Each morning started with heavy fog, with the sun ultimately breaking through and burning off the gray stuff.

Sometimes, the fog makes for interesting, moody shots. I went to the Reed-Bryan Farm side of the park today. The fog was heavy, and through it I saw many sparrows flying ahead of me as I walked down the path from the parking lot. Toward the bottom of the hill, I spotted a Savannah sparrow to my right, perched on a small tree.

Savannah sparrow perched on a bare tree, with goldenrod plants at rear.
Savannah sparrow through the fog, which was just starting to life.

I typically crop close to a bird to bring out its features, but I left this frame full for two reasons: one, I love the goldenrod behind the bird, and two, check out the wisps of spider string just above the bird and wrapped on the thorny branches at bottom right.

So much for fog and shadow. What always raises my hopes in the field is warm morning sunlight gushing through the clouds.

On Saturday, I started at the Pole Farm and walked to the northeast corner of the park, what I’ve been calling the “hot corner.” I’ve since learned from other birders that they call it the “chat corner” because yellow-breasted chats can be found there in season.

The sun was out, but the lower parts of the trees where I spotted a couple of Eastern towhees were in shadow. I took a few photos but the shots were mediocre. There wasn’t enough light on the birds’ dark heads.

Walking to the same corner today, I found several towhees. The trees they were in were beautifully lit by the sun. The photo topping this post is one of several shots I got. Here’s another:

Eastern towhee looking out from tree branch, with green and orange-and-yellow-tinted leaves beside it.
Mr. Towhee blends nicely with the foliage around him.

The sun did come out fully on Saturday, too. I took advantage of it when I spotted a a red-bellied woodpecker near the towhees. Higher up in the trees, the woodpecker was in bright light. perched upside down for a bit, then flying overhead.

red-bellied woodpecker perched on the bottom of a tree branch.
The red-bellied woodpecker is illuminated by the sun.
red-bellied woodpecker flying toward camera, its wings outstretched.
The woodpecker lifted off and flew overhead. I was a split second off from getting its full wingspan.

Given my druthers, I’d shoot in sunlight most of the time. But overcast and foggy days bring opportunities of a different sort, and it’s fun to meet the challenge. 🦅

Welcome back, Savannah sparrows

With golden streaks on their brown and tan heads, Savannah sparrows are well matched to the their surroundings in the fields of the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm at this time of. year.

I had spotted an early arrival about two weeks ago, and other birders have been noting that more and more are arriving daily. This morning I trained my camera on what I thought was a song sparrow. The bird had a small blob at the center of its breast. When I called the image up on screen, I realized the “blob” was only slightly larger than the other streaks on its upper breast.

I also could see the golden tones along the bird’s face, cinching the ID as a Savannah.

A Savannah sparrow perhces on a diagonal green shoot in the middle of various green leaves and buds behind it.
The Savannah sparrow, sitting pretty at the Pole Farm.

The goldenrod plants are flourishing in the big fields these days, and they are joined by bright asters, wild senna and other yellow-blossomed plants. With a morning sun beaming down from a cloud-free sky, the fields light up.

A bit of fall color is starting to show on some of the trees, a red patch here, a yellow leaf there, fooling me frequently into thinking I might be seeing a bird.

A birder I passed on the trail this morning was staking out Lincoln’s sparrows just off the trail, but I pressed on without seeing any. The Lincoln’s, with a faint buffy yellow wash on their breasts, are another good fit for Fall. I haven’t seen one in a while, and I’ll keep looking in the coming days. 🦅

A day of discovery and a lifer, sort of

I made two visits to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm today, and it was full of surprises. On a longer than usual three-mile walk in the morning, I finally added a red-headed woodpecker to my e-Bird reports. It was a lifer. Or was it?

I’ve been hoping to spot a red-headed woodpecker since I began birding seriously the last few years. I am reasonably certain that I saw red-headed woodpeckers in my neighborhood growing up, but I’m also aware that what we called red-headed woodpeckers in suburban Cleveland may have been red-bellied woodpeckers.

The red-headed woodpecker (or were there two?) that I spotted this morning didn’t have a red head. It was gray, signifying a juvenile. But the black and white pattern under its wing — as clearly shown by the photo topping this post — told me it really was a red-headed woodpecker.

My first? Who knows. But it’s the first on my official life list, which now totals 202 in New Jersey and 237 worldwide.

As I was looking at the red-head, a red-bellied woodpecker, a downy woodpecker and a Northern flicker were in trees close by. Then a pileated woodpecker flew in, making it a woodpecker party. Only a hairy woodpecker was missing.

A pileated woodpecker looks at a spot on a tree, hoping to find a bug to eat.
Mr. Pileated takes a gander at the tree.

The redhead wasn’t the only surprise of the day. I caught a thrush in a tree as I was heading toward the northeast corner of the park, thinking it was either a wood thrush or a hermit thrush. It turned out to be a Swainson’s thrush, one I had not seen lately.

A Swainson's thrush extends its head while perched on a tree, wtih slender green branches behind it.
Swainson’s thrush, Note the eye ring.

I ran into my birding buddy Jim at some point, and he told me that the video he had posted on Facebook of some 30 common nighthawks he had seen at sunset yesterday were at the Pole Farm.

I went back about an hour before sunset and soon found Jim and another birder. The three of us walked up the Lawrence-Hopewell Trail and stopped short of the entrance to the central woods. We were in an ideal spot to see the nighthawks if they were to return,

While we were waiting, we watched a merlin harass an American kestrel and then spotted two Northern harriers, my first of the season. American crows and red-winged blackbirds flew overhead, but we never did see a nighthawk.

Such is birding: a few surprises and a disappointment, all in the span of 12 hours. 🦅

Finding beauty in common birds

With their plain-Jane garb of brownish gray and drab white, female house finches don’t draw the eye the way their male companions do with their deep red feathers.

When the female finches show up at our feeders, I glance at them, make a mental note of their number and hope something brighter will fly in to the circular perch.

Yet in the woods the other day, I spotted the female finch topping this post and snapped her photo. I didn’t think much of it at the time and moved on, hoping to find something brighter.

When I brought the photo up on screen at home, I was struck by the bird’s unexpected beauty. It seems I caught her at her best — a regal pose in gentle light, the slightly blurred green leaves behind her providing a soft, feminine backdrop.

The experience of viewing that photo reminds me to look intently at the birds and other critters that share our human habitat. At a glance, they may appear boringly ordinary. But upon closer, open-minded examination, each has its charms: delicate feathers, perhaps one askew, maybe a silvery beak clutching a small seed.

I also offer a photo of a Northern house wren, a bird that presents a subdued brown color scheme, nothing with pizzaz. And yet look at this sweet little one perched at an angle on the branch of a small tree.

Northern house wren at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm.

I find beauty in the variations in the coloring of the feathers of his or her breast, something I don’t notice when looking a wrens in the moment. The photo captures the nuances.

To provide a bit of color, I’m adding a photo of a blue jay I spotted at the Charles Rogers Preserve not long after I saw the house finch. Blue jays have striking looks, of course, especially when the sun lights up their blue coats.

A blue jay perches on a bristly branch, it's tail pointing toward the photographer.
Blue jay from the rear.

Most of the shots of blue jays I get are in profile or head-on, but this time I was behind the bird. On viewing the photo, I am struck by the near uniform rectangles on its tail feathers and the blue and white splotches on its primaries or wing tips.

I’ve seen thousands of blue jays over my lifetime, but how often do I look closely? Rarely. I’m glad I’ve discovered the joy of noticing the subtleties of these birds by looking at them more intently. It’s much easier to do so in viewing a photograph, but I’m committing myself to looking more intently at birds as they come into view. 🦅

Magnificent Sunday with a bald eagle

When several hours of rain finally lapsed Sunday afternoon, my wife suggested I head out with my camera. I had not expected to have an opportunity to do any birding, so I jumped at the chance — promising to be back soon to help get things in order for dinner guests.

Because of all the rain from the overnight storm, I headed to the Dyson Tract along the Delaware and Raritan Canal. I figured it was a good bet for birds at mid-afternoon and a good match for the hour or so I could afford.

On the canal towpath, I heard a pileated woodpecker calling in the distance and hoped to catch sight of it. As I walked up the gravel path that’s perpendicular to the towpath, I heard the bird call loudly from close by. I couldn’t spot it, but then I noticed a big blob high in a tree at the back edge of the woods.

It was a mature bald eagle, and I was able to shoot through the trees along the trail from a couple of spots. Wanting to get closer for a better shot, I quick-walked up the trail until it stops in a clearing near a housing development.

A bald eagle in profile while perched atop a bare branch at the top of a tree.
Photographed from a distance, the bald eagle perches atop a tree at the edge of the woods.

The bird was in plain few, still a fair distance from me. As I started to reach for my camera, the eagle took off. I took a series of shots. While the first several were blurry, my Canon locked onto the bird as it flew away. I got a few decent frames, including the photo topping this post.

I was eager to get home and see the eagle photos, but the pileated woodpecker again cried out just off the trail. I had to find it. I looked and looked and looked, and after a couple more nearby calls I spotted it just as it flew off the top of a tree. I didn’t bother with the camera, content to watch the big bird streak away to the southwest.

I had my eagle shots. I’m hoping the pileated will give me a raincheck. 🦅

Common yellowthroats are still with us

I am not shy in sharing my enthusiasm for common yellowthroats. Consider this another stanza in a long-running poem in tribute.

As with many species, the yellowthroat’s territory-claiming, mate-seeking songs of spring subside over the summer.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve heard scant few of their familiar “wickety-wickety-wickety” proclaimings from the parks and preserves I visit in Mercer County.

Last Sunday, I saw two female yellowthroats cavorting in bushes underneath the trees at the trailhead by the Pole Farm parking lot on Keefe Road. I can’t recall if I heard them singing, although they may have made a few chipping sounds as they flitted among the branches.

Female yellowthroat at the Pole Farm.

Friday morning, I tried my luck on the Reed-Bryan Farm side of Mercer Meadows. Few birds were about, but I did hear a common yellowthroat as I made my way downhill from the parking lot trailhead.

I walked over the footbridge above the creek at the bottom of the hill. Looking to my left, I was relieved to find that the path that wraps around the woods had been mowed. When I visited Reed-Bryan a week ago, the path was overgrown with vegetation, impassable for somebody like me not having applied bug spray and wearing short pants.

Trail showing tire tracks where the path had been recently mowed. The path curves to the right, bisecting fields of tall yellow wildflowers and stalks of grass. A line of trees is in the background, along with a patch of cloudy blue sky.
In the clear again: the path along the woods at Reed-Bryan Farm

I was able to take the path unimpeded. I looped my way around the woods to my left. As I approached the path that would take me back to the main trail and my car, I spotted a small bird fly into a small tree. It was a male yellowthroat, with his black mask above his deep yellow body.

Mr. Yellowthroat stayed in the center of the tree for a couple of minutes, moving from branch to branch. I was able to take several shots, including the one topping this post.

This likely won’t have been my last yellowthroat photo op before winter sets in, but my sightings will diminish in the coming weeks

These sprightly creatures brighten my mornings, even on one so cloudy as we had Friday. 🦅

For variety’s sake, Veterans Park in Hamilton serves us well

Veterans Park in Hamilton is just a bit too far for me to reach on pre-work mornings, so I usually go there on weekends. The man-made lake attracts a good variety of birds, and it’s not unusual to spot a bald eagle there.

Last weekend, I paid an afternoon visit and spotted some shorebirds on the edge of the water. I carefully picked my way down the slope from the paved path and immediately was drawn to what turned out to be a lesser yellowlegs. It was standing in the shallow water on one leg, the other tucked underneath its body.

A few killdeer were nearby, which I soon spooked, and a couple of least and solitary sandpipers were there, too, for a time.

A solitary sandpiper walks in the shallow green water off the shore of the lake.
A solitary sandpiper walks in the shallow, green water.

I walked along the lake shore past a flock of mallards that swam away from me. Ahead was a trail in woods that hug the shoreline, and I passed a teenage girl throwing bread to a scaggy-looking laughing gull.

A great egret was fishing off shore, and I wrapped up my half-hour visit by taking a few shots of it.

A great egret pulls a small fish out of the lake, with water splashing around the bird's yellow beak.
A great egret plucks a small, unfortunate fish out of the water.

There’s more to explore the park than just the lake and its shores. One of these days I’ll back and do just that. 🦅

A bobolink party at the Pole Farm

The classic Dr. Seuss book “Go, Dog. Go!” ends [spoiler alert] with a pack of dogs climbing a ladder to the top of a big tree for a big dog party. My birding buddy Lee and I experienced the avian equivalent today at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm.

We pulled into the parking lot one after another and walked up the central path. Just past the point where the trail curves to the right, Lee spotted two birds perched in the grasses to our left.

They were bobolinks, and we sidled our way along the trail to find spots through the grasses where we had a clear shot at the birds. More bobolinks emerged, giving us lots of targets. While some of the birds flew off, others lingered.

A bobolink perched on green and red grass stalks, its brown and yellow coat gleaming in warm morning sunshine.
Bobolink perching on grass stalks. The light was warm.

I entered a rough count of 12 in e-Bird, but there probably were more. We spent about 10 minutes snapping away before heading up the trail. We saw other birds, but it turned out I only shot the bobolinks. I have no complaints. 🦅

Birds kissed by morning light

We’ve had a delightful run of sunny days of late. I’ve donned a jacket a few times on my morning walks because the post-dawn temperatures have dipped into the low 60s and even the 50s.

This morning dawned gloriously, and I got out to the Pole Farm hoping to photograph some of the warblers that have been trickling in. I did see male and female redstarts obscured by branches high up in a tree, but no other warblers revealed themselves.

Thanks to the warm rays of the sun, this was a day for quality, not quantity, in photos.

Topping this post is a Northern cardinal, still magnificent even if he’s missing a few feathers. I spotted him in a tree at the former AT&T Building One site. There’s a parfait of light, shadow and color in that shot. Through the camera viewfinder I spotted the bird plucking at what appears to be a rolled leaf. I figured I’d likely land a nice shot. I’m pleased with the result.

As I headed back toward my car, I crossed paths with my birding buddy Jim. He spotted the redstarts, and as we were chatting I noticed a field sparrow tucked into some of the plants just off the trail. I squeezed off a few frames, all of them with the bird’s beak closed except the one below. Again, light and shadow highlighted the bird’s features.

It’s rewarding to get these images, and I’m happy to share them. 🦅

row, partly in shade from the green and yellow leaves framing it, opens its beak while perched on a stalk.
This field sparrow was maybe 15 feet from me, perched long enough for me to take several shots.

An abundance of pewees enlivens the soundscape

The sweet “pee-uh-wee!” call of the Eastern wood pewee has been sounding repeatedly in my part of New Jersey this Labor Day weekend. I heard several again this morning at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm and at the Dyson Tract along the Delaware and Raritan Canal.

More often than not, I log my e-Bird pewee reports based on hearing them rather than seeing them. But they’ve been out in the open this weekend, and I caught a couple of shots of one of them in profile, high up in a tree at the Pole Farm.

The more pewees I encounter, the more frustrated I grow at not having seen their flycatcher cousin, the Eastern phoebe, since April last year.

That’s why when I wrapped up my walk at the Pole Farm, I drove over to the Dyson Tract, where I’ve often seen phoebes on the canal bank near the bridge that crosses the canal. Again today, no phoebes were found.

Only a few weeks ago, the swamp just off the canal had plenty of water to attract great egrets and little blue herons. Now, the swamp has dried up. Where there almost always is a layer of water deep enough to attract ducks, today there’s only green vegetation studded by the usual trees and stumps.

Sic transit natura. 🦅