Each of the last few years, prothonotary warblers have shown up during Spring migration at the Dyson Tract along the Delaware and Raritan Canal. It took me a few visits, but today I struck gold, so to speak.
As I arrived at the parking lot, I turned on the Merlin app and hoped it would hear the golden yellow bird with the grayish wings, black eyes and beak. As I walked up the canal towpath, Merlin signaled one nearby. I neither heard nor saw it.
I continued my walk and recorded several species, including a first-of-the-year green heron. I turned back toward my car and turned on Merlin, which quickly picked up another prothonotary warbler. Again, I didn’t hear or see it, but I decided to stay a while in hope that it would show itself.
A young woman birder arrived, also looking for the prothonotary warbler. With our backs to the canal, we peered into the swamp. A Northern yellow warbler flew by and we followed it to the trees lining the canal bank.
Then it happened — a prothonotary warbler winged its way past us and briefly settled in a tree on the bank. I was able to get a couple of grab shots, including the one topping this post, before the bird flew off.
We turned our attention back to the swamp, and a minute or two later we spotted the bird land on the top of a snapped-in-half bare tree. The bird was visiting its nest in a cavity atop the snag.
The snag at left shows the nest cavity at top.
The bird made a few dashes to and fro before flying off. I wasn’t able to get any further shots of it.
While I would have preferred a sharper photo, seeing the bird was reward enough. Watching it zip back and forth from its nesting cavity was an added thrill. 🦅
Spring migration probably reached its peak this weekend, and I spent a good deal of time in the field to experience it. The highlight was Saturday, when my friend Jim and I went to the Ted Stiles Preserve on Baldpate Mountain, hard by the Delaware River at Titusville, New Jersey.
Although I’d hiked Baldpate a couple of times, I’d never gone birding there. It seems unconscionable in retrospect, as I logged 42 species in two sections of the park.
Our first stop was at the Fiddlers Creek entrance off HIghway 29, which runs along the Delaware. With the windows down, we drove uphill listening for birds until we parked near the summit at a turnout along a stone wall that affords a great view of the treetops that warblers fancy.
We heard many but saw few warblers, and not getting a shot at a chestnut-sided warbler was particularly disappointing for me. Oddly, the only photos I took of any value were not of a bird but the Nessus sphinx, a hummingbird-like moth that flitted among the flower blossoms between the parked cars and the stone wall.
I’d never heard of or noticed the Nessus sphinx moth before Saturday morning.
Our next stop was to drive back down to Highway 29 and head up Pleasant Valley Road, bound for another entrance to the Stiles preserve. Birders we had chatted with on our first stop recommended that we walk up the trail that follows the power lines cutting through the park, and we found a bonanza of birds.
We were hoping for a golden-winged warbler but didn’t find any. Instead, we were treated to several singing rose-breasted grosbeaks, cheeping ovenbirds, a veery or two and several indigo buntings.
Blue-winged warbler.
At the advice of a passing birder, we veered off onto a side trail and soon spotted a bay-breasted warbler in the trees above us. I managed only a few fuzzy shots of its bottom.
On the way back down the trail, a cooperative indigo bunting gave us several good looks.
The cooperative indigo bunting, who sang for us at a couple of locations.
When we got back to the parking lot, Jim suggested we walk toward the gate on Pleasant Valley Road, where we’d seen a few birders as we arrived. It was a good move.
We were awarded with views of several cedar waxwings, a scarlet tanager, a Nashville warbler and a black-throated blue warbler, which tops this post. Merlin hit on a Wilson’s warbler, but I neither saw nor heard what would have been a lifer. I didn’t record it — that’s one I want to see!
I started today at the Dyson Tract, hoping to spot or at least hear the pair of prothonotary warblers that have set up housekeeping in the tree-studded swamp. I had no luck with them, but I got a common grackle with an insect in its beak on a tree overhanging the pond off the trail.
Common grackle, with breakfast snack in its beak.
I then headed to the Pole Farm, where I managed a nice closeup of a common yellowthroat and a long shot that cropped well of a singing Eastern meadowlark.
Mr. Yellowthroat up close.
Meadowlark at the Pole Farm
After doing some planting in our garden beds, I had a few errands to run and made a stop at Colonial Lake to see if anything interesting might appear. I watched an osprey soar overhead as I got out of my car. It came back a minute later and dove to get a small fish. I only got focus on the bird once it hit the water.
All in all, it was a darn fine weekend of birding. I got nearly my fill of warblers and got to visit several spots. I’ll definitely return to the Stiles preserve, and often. 🦅
No birding for me today, as I took the day off to head to New York City to enjoy my grandson’s cello recital. Afterward, my son Liam and I walked from the little guy’s school through Central Park to return to their Midtown apartment.
The usual overwhelming assortment of pigeons was on full display as we walked through the park, but I didn’t bother to file an e-Bird report. I did, however, contemplate the contrast between those mostly drab urban avians with the vibrant red Northern cardinal I photographed the day before.
I was hoping for warbler karma at the Pole Farm’s AT&T Building One arches, but it was not to be. There was, however, a male cardinal singing its virtuoso song in a tree behind me.
I swung my camera its way for some mediocre shots. A man walking his dog came by, and the cardinal moved to a different spot among the trees. It offered a wonderful green backdrop for the crimson bird, and I share the open-beak image at the top of this post as proof. 🦅
When I got to the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm this morning, I realized that I’d left my binoculars at home. Oops. It wasn’t worth the drive to fetch them, so I set out on the trails with only my camera.
In the end, it was a minor inconvenience on what turned out to be a 35-species day. I logged many of them by ear, which wasn’t hard to do with ovenbirds, common yellowthroats and wood thrushes filling the woods and fields with melodies.
On the backside of my three-mile ramble, I found my birding friend Laura looking up into the “warbler wall” of trees at the AT&T Building One site. We hadn’t seen each other in months, and I was pleased to hear her tell me that the trees were brimming with birds.
The sun was shining brightly, and Laura quickly pointed out the Nashville warbler calling. We never did see the bird but otherwise got an eyeful: black-and-white warbler, Norther parula, blue-gray gnatcatcher, plus a black-throated green warbler that we heard.
Black-and-white warbler, one of my favorites.
At one point, I went to grab my binoculars, only to come up empty handed. I soon forgot about that when I spotted a yellow bird atop one of the trees and snapped a few frames.
I initially thought it was a prairie warbler, but Laura set me straight in viewing the bird on my camera screen. It was a Cape May warbler. Although I’ve heard and seen Cape May warblers before, I’d never gotten a photo. I was elated. One of the photos tops this post.
Earlier on the walk, I’d finally spotted a rose-breasted grosbeak after hearing their beautiful song on several outings the past couple of weeks. I also spotted a scarlet tanager but missed the brief photo op.
I have since put my binoculars back in the Volkswagen and hope for more sunshine and warblers tomorrow. 🦅
My buddy Jim and I drove through the fog down to the Michael Huber Prairie Warbler Reserve in the Pine Barrens this morning. Although we did spot a few prairie warblers, they weren’t the day’s highlight.
Jim has been to the Huber reserve many times, but this was my first visit to the sprawling stretch of pines at Vincentown, New Jersey, roughly 25 miles both south of Trenton and east of Philadelphia.
The main trail we followed.
The reserve has multiple hard-packed sand trails through the tall pines. We started hearing birds the moment we stepped out of the car. I was keen to see a black-and-white warbler — a bird that has surprisingly eluded me over the last year — and hoped to catch a hooded warbler, which would be a lifer.
As the fog lifted and the sun came out, we saw more and more birds, starting with white-eyed vireos that popped in and out of tree branches just off the trail. We heard and finally saw black-and-white warblers, plus a blue-winged warbler.
One of the white-eyed vireos.
Other birders have been reporting prothonotary warblers nesting at a bridge over a creek, and Jim said the spot is a great place to stand and wait for birds to appear.
He was right. As we approached the red gate on one side of the small bridge, I got a partial look at a hooded warbler through the branches. Jim and I spent quite a bit of time on and near the bridge, hearing an Acadian flycatcher, seeing a phoebe and more white-eyed vireos. To our great surprise, a barred owl — a first for me — started calling from the woods. We didn’t find it, but I was pleased to add it to my life list.
We never saw a prothonotary warbler, but Jim pointed out an egg nestled in a wood post on the bridge.
Prothonotary warbler egg in a wood post, which is studded with screws.
A hooded warbler eventually came by into trees just off the bridge, and I was able to get the bird firmly in focus. With its black cowl and vivid yellow body, it is truly a beautiful bird. I’ve made it the main image for this post.
No doubt excited by the hooded warbler, I accidentally closed file on my e-Bird checklist. I started a second one for our return to the car, and we heard more birds on the way: pine warblers, a couple of scarlet tanagers and more ovenbirds than you can shake a stick at.
Our last thrill came as we approached the turnout where our car was parked at the trailhead. I spotted a bird ahead on a branch at eye level and pulled up my binoculars. Female goldfich? No! A birder who had just arrived and was a few yards ahead of us had her bins on the bird and cried out, “Yellow-throated vireo!”
There were two of the vireos, it turned out. I had trouble focusing on them as they hopped to and fro among the dark pines. But one flew almost directly overhead, and I was able to get a few sharp shots of it munching on a bug.
Yellow-throated vireo munching on a bug.
Jim and I had figured on having a good day at the Huber reserve, and we were not disappointed. I look forward to returning. 🦅
With migration underway, we birders spend a lot of time looking up to spot warblers high up in trees. On two outings this week, I’ve seen few warblers but have spent a lot of time craning my neck.
I looked up at the Pole Farm on Wednesday to see a red-winged blackbird chasing a red-tailed hawk over the fields. I doubt the blackbird caught up to the hawk, but the former seemed to be doing a good job at moving the hawk along, as the top photo attests.
I was only a few minutes into my walk that morning when I spotted an orchard oriole in a tree not far from the parking lot. It flew off before I could raise my camera, but I got a second chance an hour later as I returned to my car. The oriole was in another tree, stubbornly staying behind a few branches between us. For a second, it poked its head out and I was able to catch a shot.
The best I could get of the orchard oriole.
The next morning at the Dyson Tract, I had better light in which to shoot. I hoped I’d be able to spot or at least hear a prothonotary warbler that had been reported the day before. I had no luck on that, but plenty of other birds were about.
I had trouble focusing on a yellow warbler, but I was able to catch a Northern house wren belting out its song from high up in a tree along the Delaware and Raritan Canal towpath.
Big song from the little wren.
As I walked up the trail perpendicular to the towpath, I heard a Canada goose squawking loudly. It sounded as if the big bird was directly overhead and, sure enough, it was. The goose was about 30 feet above me on a bare tree trunk. I’ve taken lots of shots of geese flying above me, but never of one above me but staying put.
The Canada goose raising a ruckus from a treetop and drooling a bit, apparently.
Not long after that encounter, I spotted a red-shouldered hawk flying onto the top of a tree with a bare trunk. The hawk let out several cries, although it went quiet every time I pointed the camera its way.
Red-shouldered hawk in a quiet moment.
Migration will be hitting its peak over the next few days, and I intend to spend a chunk of time outdoors looking for warblers. Wish me luck! 🦅
It’s hard to pick a favorite song or call of the birds I encounter in my part of the world, but unquestionably the sweet, clear song of the Baltimore oriole is among my favorites.
I heard one for the first time this spring at the Pole Farm on Tuesday and heard another this morning at the Dyson Tract along the Delaware and Raritan Canal. The bird’s voice was so loud and clear that I knew it was close by, likely in a treetop.
Sure enough, I spotted Mr. Oriole after a few minutes, high up in a tree. I backtracked to get shots with the sun shining on him. One tops this post, and I also offer this vertically cropped version that better shows the bird’s eye and catchlight.
Baltimore oriole in a treetop.
I’ve noted previously that the Dyson Tract, on the Princeton-West WIndsor border, is one of the most densely packed birding spots I know. This morning was further proof.
After I shot the oriole, I spied a red-bellied woodpecker nearby. With favorable sunlight, I got some decent frames.
A young-looking red-bellied woodpecker takes a short breather from pummeling the tree on which it perched.
A few moments later, I looked toward the canal and spotted a blob in one of the trees on the edge of the trail. The white head was unmistakable: bald eagle.
It was tough to line up the shot through the many branches between the bird and me, but I found a hole through which to shoot just as the bird began to spread its wings.
A mature bald eagle begins to lift its wings away from its body.
The bird flew off, and I got two almost clear shots. Here’s the better of them.
The bald eagle flaps its wings after taking off from the tree where it had been perching.
The Dyson Tract is a haven for warbling vireos for many months starting in late Spring, and I heard several this morning. Typically, I had trouble spotting one. I also heard and caught a glimpse of a great-crested flycatcher, my first of the year.
I’ll be going back to the tract to see what else I can capture on camera. 🦅
I haven’t had much of a chance to go birding the last two weeks, but I made up for lost time this morning at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm. As I stepped out of my car, I heard a symphony of song sparrows and common yellowthroats, with red-winged blackbirds singing raspy counterpoint.
The yellowthroats returned a week or two ago, but until I made my way a few hundred yards up the central trail, I hadn’t seen one. Two of them suddenly appeared, chasing after each other and bringing a smile to my face. Later on my circuit around the meadows and woods, I’d finally capture one on camera. He tops this post.
The common yellowthroat wasn’t the only old friend I encountered. Several ovenbirds and gray catbirds were calling from the woods, and I was lucky to get close to one of the latter. The bird almost appears to be smiling.
Gray caatbird, the Chatty Cathy of the woods.
I also spotted my first female red-winged blackbird of the season. I wasn’t quick enough to get a photo of her, but I did happily catch one of the males who stayed still enough in good light to capture him on camera.
Male blackbird calling from a small tree, for once lit up well by the sun.
American goldfinches frequent our feeders at home, and it’s been a joy to watch their breeding season colors emerge. At the Pole Farm today, I saw several, including this male whose yellow has arrived but whose contrasting black feathers don’t appear fully developed.
Mr. Goldfinch, I’m guessing a young one whose breeding colors haven’t fully come in.
I’ve been seeing tree swallows for the past couple of weeks as they jet above the fields in pursuit of each other and of flying insects. A couple of them posed for me. Although the background sky is washed out on this image below, I think it’s a nice clear view of the coloring of the species.
Tree swallow showing its colors.
It’s about time for the Northern parulas and other migrants to show up in these parts. I look forward to finding them and sharing photos of them with my readers. Thanks for checking in! 🦅
I went to Veterans Park in Hamilton on Sunday afternoon, hoping to get a look at a few birds I don’t find at the Mercer Meadows Pole Farm or at other sans water spots. Although I would not see many birds, I did add two species to my e-Bird log for April.
Purple martin soaking up the sun.
The first was a purple martin, which I wasn’t expecting. One of the martins was standing in profile on one of the levels of the martin house, which is on a post near the edge of the park’s lake. The bird — the only one around — was so still I couldn’t be sure it was real or alive. By the time I passed it on my way back, the bird had turned and was looking outward.
In between, I walked along the edge of the lake and on a trail that goes back into the woods. Other than a lone drake mallard, I didn’t see any birds in a spot where on my last visit I’d seen plenty.
So I turned back and again walked the edge of the lake, straining to see what might be lurking on a spit of land a few yards off the shore. The land was heavily strewn with downed branches, and what soil that was exposed was a mucky black.
Merlin had at least twice signaled that a spotted sandpiper and a killdeer were nearby. I was disappointed at not seeing a killdeer, but eventually I saw a bird fly from one part of the spit to another. A spotted sandpiper, it was difficult to see. Its mostly brown upper body blended well with the downed branches it was exploring. The photo topping this post is a good example of how well-camouflaged it was.
Another sandpiper revealed itself. I know I took shots of both birds but I’ll be darned if I can distinguish between them in my photos. 🦅
One of the spotted sanpipers walking up a log at the water’s edge.
As my birding pal Jim and I made the hour-and-a-quarter drive to Estell Manor Park on Saturday, he guaranteed that I would get a lifer bird: the yellow-throated warbler. Never has been getting a lifer so easy.
As we got out of the car in the parking lot at the visitor center, Jim immediately said a yellow-throated warbler was singing nearby. Sure enough, just off the parking lot, one of the warblers was indeed singing — and within sight.
It was up in the pine trees, and I soon spotted it, lifer No. 243. It was nice adding the warbler to the list, but, honestly, seeing the bird was thrill enough. Its brilliant coloring stood out amid the tree branches. Its song was beautiful, too.
After shooting for a short while, we headed to a trail behind the visitor center and walked among the pines.
Estell Manor is a small city in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, not far from Atlantic City. The barrens are famous for their sandy soil and abudant pine trees, not to mention the mythical New Jersey Devil.
It’s ideal territory for migrating pine warblers. We heard a few of those but I never did spot one. But as we followed the trail and got deeper into the woods, we heard and saw other yellow-throated warblers and also several blue-gray gnatcatchers.
A blue-gray gnatcatcher stands still for a few moments before flitting away.
After traipsing the trails behind the visitor center, we drove north about two miles to a turnoff in another section of the park and pulled into a campsite. We quickly hit the yellow-throated warbler jackpot.
Yellow-throated warbler giving me a close look.
At least three of the birds were flitting around the pines and a few other varieties of trees. They were variously right above our heads, bopping about from branch to branch, and landing nearly at eye level in front of us. At one point, one of them flew roughly five feet from my left ear.
Jim and I each took multiple shots, and I was eager to get home to find what I’d captured. Suffice it to say, I was pleased. 🦅
With its beak wide open, a yellow-throated warbler sings from a tree.
