Snow Geese above Pungo Lake (click photos to enlarge)
I had a group tour the first few days of 2015, so I went down to Pungo on New Year’s Day to scout things out. It was a cold and beautiful afternoon. The usual groups of Tundra Swans dotted the fields and there were a few small flocks of the increasingly elusive Snow Geese flying to and fro. As the sun started getting low in the sky, I drove over to the south shore of Pungo Lake, hoping to catch the geese coming back in to roost for the evening. Instead, I spotted their characteristic undulating waves of birds flying high over the lake, as if headed out to the fields to feed. I jumped in the car and drove out toward the refuge entrance in case they were headed to the corn fields for a late snack.
Sunset view of Snow Geese flying over fields
When I arrived, most of the geese were feeding in a wheat field several hundred yards from my position. I could see a half dozen cars of folks close to the birds, but I wanted the geese against the orange sky, so I stayed put, on the far side of all the action.
Snow Geese against sunset sky
As the sun sank low in the sky, the geese continued to circle and land on the far side of the fields, giving me those silhouette images that I sought. Suddenly, the entire flock blasted off, presumably headed to the lake for the night. Instead, the mass of birds headed across the fields and swirled all around me, filling the sky with sound and the dark shadows of beating wings. Then, the entire flock landed in a corn field near the car.
The entire flock flew to the corn field adjacent to my car
The sound of that many birds feeding in a field next to you is unbelievable. It sounds like a giant machine of some sort, perhaps a huge industrial furnace. The flock, perhaps numbering 10,000 birds, moved through the corn like a feathered combine. I just sat and watched, in awe, at the spectacle of so many living things acting as one unified eating machine. Suddenly, as if one of the birds had realized it was getting late, the flock erupted from the field, turned, and headed toward the lake for the night. I stood there for a moment as the sound faded to the north. What a magical way to start a new year.
Snow Geese landing in field at Pocosin Lakes NWR (click photos to enlarge)
For me, I suppose that quote could be altered to, I can never have enough of winter wildlife in eastern North Carolina. Okay, not as poetic for sure, but true nonetheless. Why else would I (and 6 other bird nerds and friends) spend all day out in the brutally cold wind and mud at Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge? Well, another reason is that we were one team participating in the annual ritual known as the Pettigrew State Park Christmas Bird Count. I helped start this particular bird count about 30 years ago when I worked for the state park system and I have managed to attend almost every one since.
This year is the 115th for the National Audubon Society Christmas Bird Counts. The concept was born in 1900 when Frank Chapman, a noted ornithologist, and 26 other people went out and counted birds in 25 locations, mainly in the northeast United States. The idea was to offer an alternative to the practice of Christmas “side” hunts practiced at the time, where people would go out on Christmas Day and shoot as many birds (and often other wildlife) as they could, whether they had a use for them or not. Conservationists were concerned about this, and other practices, and the general decline in bird species, and thought the counts would be a good way to bring attention to the plight of birds. From those humble beginnings, the Christmas Bird Counts are now the longest-running citizen science program, with over 71,000 people participating in over 2,300 count circles in the Western Hemisphere. Data from these counts provides scientists with all sorts of useful information on population trends, range expansions over time, and other information on a wide range of bird species.
Looking for a Ross’s Goose amidst the thousands of Snow Geese
Participants try to identify and count all the birds within a chosen 15-mile diameter circle on a assigned day during the period from December 14 to January 5 each year. The Pettigrew Count is centered on the state park and includes surrounding farmlands and forests as well as a portion of the Pungo Unit of Pocosin Lakes NWR. Teams of volunteers go out before dawn and bird their portion of the count circle all day, keeping track of everything they see and can identify by sound. Obviously, we do not record every single bird that is actually in the count circle that day (especially in areas like the refuge, where portions are closed to public entry to protect the wildlife from disturbance), and there are challenges with estimating the numbers of large flocks, and in trying to not to count birds more than once. But, one of the benefits of having some of the same people do the count each year is that the results will be somewhat consistent, enough that trends in the data over time can be seen. This year, our team consisted of three beginning birders, two experienced birders that had been on this count many times, and two young, enthusiastic, and knowledgeable birders that had never been on this particular count.
Snow Geese blasting off from field
One of our highlights on this count is the huge numbers of Snow Geese that roost on Pungo Lake and feed in nearby farm fields. The birds have been a little less predictable the past couple of years and they continued that trend this year, with the huge flock breaking up into smaller flocks and dispersing in varied directions during the day. We did find a flock of a couple of thousand feeding in the fields near the refuge entrance, and then began the sometimes long process of trying to pick out some Ross’s Geese from the flock. Ross’s Geese look like miniature Snow Geese, and can be tough to spot when there are thousands of their look-alike cousins in a field. But, with the gusty winds holding the birds up in the air longer as they landed and slowing down their flight, we were able to spot many of the smaller Ross’s Geese in in the air, and, in fact, got our highest number ever (23) for this portion of the count circle.
Immature Mute Swan (left) compared to adult Tundra Swan (right)
Other highlights included the first Cackling Geese (look like small Canada Geese) we have ever recorded on this portion of the count and an immature Mute Swan. The latter has been hanging out in one of the impoundments at Pungo for a few weeks. It is much larger than the usual Tundra Swans, and immature birds have a pink bill and lack the large knob on the bill that is diagnostic of adult Mute Swans. At first, I really wanted to make this bird an immature Trumpeter Swan, but I guess I will have to go with the consensus of it being a Mute.
Walking on a bear trail
Another highlight was walking through the woods looking for mixed species flocks, and traveling through the underbrush on a well-used bear trail. We did see seven bears along that trail, including two resting high up in trees (always a thrill to see). Added to those non-bird sightings were soaring Bald Eagles, a Cooper’s Hawk dive bombing some robins and a Wood Duck, the flash of a Merlin as it streaked overhead, and tens of thousands of Snow Geese coming into the lake at sunset, and you can see why the day was memorable, in spite of the bitter cold. One of the most memorable moments was when I asked the young birders (and these guys are both passionate and skilled) how they first got into birding. They both gave some of the credit to a trip I had helped lead to this very refuge when they were with the museum’s Junior Curator Program. They recalled walking down this same dirt road, seeing bears, and thousands of Snow Geese and Tundra Swans flying over, the vastness of the place, and the amazing sounds, as one of the things that inspired their passion. What a great way to start a new year…and to help me make a resolution to help get more people, especially young people, out into nature to discover their own passion.
December 30, 2014 data – Pungo Unit portion of annual Pettigrew State Park Christmas Bird Count (70 species for our team; 110 species for the total count circle):
The Fox of Carolina is gray…When hunted, they make a sorry Chace, because they run up Trees, when pursued.
~John Lawson, 1709
Gray Fox after waking up from a nap (click photos to enlarge)
On almost every visit to Mattamuskeet NWR these past few months, I have seen one or more Gray Foxes. I am guessing they had a den somewhere along Wildlife Drive and the adults, and their young, have stayed in that general vicinity all Summer and Fall. A few weeks ago, I was driving down the dirt road along the lake and my friend hollered, “fox”, as we drove right by one sleeping in the grass along the road. When I started to back up, it quickly got up and slipped into the thick brush (seems as though most wildlife does not like it when you back up your vehicle). As John Lawson pointed out oh-so-long-ago, Gray Foxes are the only canid in North America that can climb trees. I have seen that twice, once on the coast, where a fox was after some persimmons (a favorite Fall meal), and once on a teacher workshop at the Belize Zoo. It seems that Gray Foxes really are much more cat-like than other members of their dog clan, having semi-retractable claws, and short legs relative to their body size (ideal for climbing trees). Gray Foxes are often mistaken for Red Foxes, due to the reddish coloration that is so noticeable on portions of their body. An easy way to distinguish the two is that Gray Foxes have a dark stripe and dark tip on their tail, whereas Red Foxes have a white tail tip.
Gray Fox napping along road
On a more recent trip, I was telling my companion about the sleeping fox incident when I spotted a gray lump over in the grass on the opposite side of the road from where I had seen the fox a week before. This time, I stopped the vehicle ahead of the lump and checked it out. Sure enough, a Gray Fox napping…really napping, it turned out. We got out, hoping not to spook it. But, not to worry, it continued napping. I was surprised the fox was still hanging around this area since the annual duck hunt at Mattamuskeet had started earlier in the week and takes place at a series of blinds adjacent to this dirt road. I really thought the shotgun blasts would have spooked it from this area.
The fox finally looks up to check us out
We took a series of images, all with the fox laying there, eyes closed. It finally raised its head and gave us a look.
Gray Fox yawning
For the next several minutes, we stood there, watching the fox nap, raise its head, yawn, and then lay back down to nap again.
The fox finally raised up and looked around
After several minutes of standing there and waiting, the fox finally stood up, looked at us sleepily, and slowly walked away.
The fox finally walks away
I hated that we might have awakened the little guy, but was happy that we didn’t seem to upset it much by our presence. The fox stopped a few times, sniffing the ground, and perhaps grabbing something to snack on, as I had seen them do several times on previous visits to the refuge. Gray Foxes have an incredibly varied diet – everything from rabbits and mice to amphibians and insects, and lots of different types of fruits. Finally, the fox slipped into the thick underbrush, leaving us appreciative of our time spent with it. It is such a rare treat to be able to observe an animal going about its daily life, seemingly unconcerned by our presence. This is one more reason we should all be thankful for places like our wildlife refuges and parks, where there is adequate habitat and regulations that protect wildlife, so we can all have moments like this.
If we can somehow retain places where we can always sense the mystery of the unknown, our lives will be richer.
~Sigurd F. Olson
Wildlife refuges, parks, open spaces – these are the special places I love. And we are lucky here in North Carolina to have an incredible variety of public lands to enjoy. Last week, I took a few days to do a quick tour of some of my favorite places – five national wildlife refuges (Pocosin Lakes, Mattamuskeet, Alligator River, Currituck, and Pea Island), and a national seashore, Bodie Island at Cape Hatteras National Seashore).
Snow Geese on foggy morning at Pocosin Lakes NWR (click photos to enlarge)
A light fog hung over the fields at the Pungo Unit of Pocosin Lakes NWR at sunrise and soon, they could be heard coming from the lake – Snow Geese. Not the tens of thousands I had hoped for, but still enough to delight the eyes and ears.
The flock probably numbered a couple of thousand. They did the usual Snow Goose act of noisily settling into a field, moving as a large white mass feeding in the field, and then erupting into the sky with a loud roar – then repeat – and repeat. One blast off was triggered by a Bald Eagle flyover, but I have no idea what caused the other take-offs. While I don’t understand why they behave this erratically (or how it isn’t a total drain on their energy reserves), I never tire of seeing and hearing it.
A Merlin sitting on a bird-friendly sign on the beach
The next morning I took my inaugural drive on the beach in my new 4wd Honda up at Corolla. I had never been to this part of the Outer Banks, and I was amazed at the super highway out on the beach. But, there was also a welcome bird sighting – a Merlin, appropriately sitting on a refuge sign along the dunes at Currituck NWR. Merlins are slightly larger and generally darker in plumage than our smallest falcon, the American Kestrel. They are voracious predators on various species of small birds, but this one was quietly surveying the scene as cars and trucks whizzed by on the beach.
Female or immature male Bufflehead at Pea IslandRuddy Duck
That afternoon included stops at two other waterfowl hot spots. There were plenty of birds at Pea Island, but most were far out on North or South Ponds. A walk along the trail did produce some nice views of two species – a few Buffleheads and a group of Ruddy Ducks. Ruddy Ducks always seem to have a startled look when swimming, their stiff tail feathers held up at an angle.
Bodie Island pond (iPhone photo)
As the afternoon light started getting that golden glow, I walked out onto the observation platform at Bodie Island. Ducks were calling and flying – a quintessential coastal Carolina December scene.
Northern PintailsFemale Northern Pintail dabbling
Several Northern Pintails and a few Tundra Swans were feeding in the shallow water near the observation platform, dabbling on submerged aquatic vegetation, with their rear ends up in the air.
American Avocets
A few American Avocets were scattered across the pond, picking at some unseen morsels in the water. I always enjoy seeing these elegant shorebirds with their unusual upturned stiletto bills.
The fading light bathed a pair of Tundra Swans near the platform in rich golden hues as the adult bird preened itself one last time before sunset. Immature (first year) swans have grayish heads and necks and are usually seen accompanying their parents and siblings on the wintering grounds.
The trip, while brief, turned out to be memorable – beautiful scenes, abundant and diverse wildlife, peaceful soundscapes, and the vast sky characteristic of eastern North Carolina. As the year winds down, I want to wish everyone a happy holiday season and a joyous new year. I hope you are all able to spend more time outside this coming year.
I do not understand how anyone can live without some small place of enchantment to turn to.
~Marjorie Kinnan Rawling
For me, that place of enchantment in my home state is Pocosin Lakes National Wildlife Refuge…more specifically, the Pungo Unit of that refuge. I had a trip this past week with a couple of friends and it never fails to deliver. It is not always the same thing, but it is a wild enough area that there is always something to provide a memorable moment. It was a day trip, leaving Raleigh at 7 a.m. That makes for a long day, especially when you start by going to my other favorite wildlife spot, Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuge.
Immature Black-crowned Night Heron (click photos to enlarge)
Lake Mattamuskeet is the largest natural lake in North Carolina and attracts thousands of waterfowl in the winter. But most of those birds are hidden from view, spending much of their time in the east end of the lake or in impoundments that are closed to the public. However, a drive along Wildlife Drive will allow you glimpses of that wildlife richness. There are a couple of small pools near the gate that reliably produce good bird sightings (although the invasive plant, Phragmites, is beginning to block much of the view in this area). One species you are likely to see there is the Black-crowned Night Heron. This trip provided a good view of an immature bird, while the nearby adult was hidden in thick vegetation.
Great Blue Heron gets a drink
There is almost always a sentinel of the marsh, a Great Blue Heron, present in this area when you first drive in. Unlike Great Blues in many other areas, these are fairly tolerant of our presence and thus are probably amongst the most photographed of their species in North Carolina.
Great Egret striking at prey
Another almost sure bet near the entrance is a Great Egret. These elegant white birds forage throughout the area, most often taking small fish, with the occasional larger specimen caught for the luckier viewers. I have hundreds of images of these marsh stalkers from this location over the years, but I can’t seem to resist trying to get a few more on each trip. I particularly enjoy trying to capture the moment of the strike – their white head splashing in the water as they snag a meal.
Pied-billed Grebe
Another reliable species near the entrance is the diminuitive Pied-billed Grebe (PBG for short). These chunky little divers scoot about the pools, diving for fish, and generally going less appreciated than the long-legged marsh dwellers. But, I like these little guys, and they often swim close enough to shore to allow a nice reflection shot when waters are calm.
Horned Grebe
A surprise sighting in the pools this trip was a Horned Grebe. I have seen them out on the lake in some winters, but never in one of the canal areas where you can appreciate their winter plumage and bright red eyes.
Fish eye lens view of swamp
One of my favorite stops at Mattamuskeet is the short boardwalk through a cypress swamp just off Wildlife Drive. I borrowed my friend’s fish eye lens for some unusual perspectives and then learned of a simple trick with my iPhone that produces some interesting results as well.
iPhone vertical pano shot in swamp
I have used the pano feature on my phone’s camera many times in this area, but never vertically. Simply turn the camera sideways in pano mode and start overhead and bring it down. By starting overhead, you get the proper exposure for the sky. You can then lighten the darker areas near the base of the image with some shadow reduction features in post processing. Not nearly as nice or sharp as the fish eye, but it doesn’t require the outlay of thousands of dollars that the high quality lens does.
As the afternoon shadows lengthened, we drove over to the Pungo Unit of Pocosin Lakes for the sunset show. Tundra Swans were flying to and from the lake, providing some beautiful views in the afternoon light. But what I wanted was the return of the Snow Geese to the fields or lake itself. The large flocks have been leaving the refuge in the morning, apparently feeding in fields far to the east. I was hoping they would fly back into some of the refuge fields before heading into the lake to roost for the night.
We positioned ourselves near one of the fields containing several hundred swans and enough bear tracks along the road to make you think you would certainly see a bruin as it came out to feed. Finally, I spotted them – several thousand Snow Geese flying in from the east in undulating waves of wings. They began to circle and land, joining the hundreds of Tundra Swans already in the field. Right at sunset, a Black Bear came out and wandered over, setting the flock into the air where they circled a few times before heading out to the lake to spend the night. Refuge magic at its best.
I will be leading trips to this area for the next several weeks to observe the wintering waterfowl and other wildlife. Most weekends in January are already booked, but I have many week days left as well as some single weekend dates. I’ll also soon be posting details on my blog Trips page for my June trips to Yellowstone and my July trip to Trinidad and Tobago (the latter in conjunction with EcoQuest Travel and the NC Zoo Society). If you are looking for that last gift for someone special (or yourself), consider giving the gift of nature – a field experience with the Roads End Naturalist. Contact me at my email address – roadsendnaturalist@gmail.com – for more information, rates, and availability.
It swims and dives with great readiness and with peculiar ease and elegance of movement…
Thomas Bell on otters, 1874
I recently spent a couple of days with a great group of guys in my favorite winter haunts – Pocosin Lakes and Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Refuges.
Sunrise, Pocosin Lakes NWR (click photos to enlarge)
The first day started out beautifully with a rich sunrise…and that was about the end of the nice weather. The next day and a half, we experienced very little sunshine, and a lot of wind, cold, drizzle, and clouds (did I mention wind?!!). And much of the wildlife thought we were crazy being out there, so they stayed home.
Tundra Swans on impoundmentTundra Swan flyover
The Snow Geese have arrived, but they continue the trend of the past few years and are a bit unpredictable. Instead of flying out to the refuge fields in the morning, they took off far to the east for points unknown. The Tundra Swans were a bit more obliging as they flew out of Pungo Lake in small groups, giving us some nice views. A few hundred landed in one of the impoundments and graced us with their mesmerizing calls, one of my favorite natural sounds.
Bald Eagle flying behind treetops on a gray morning
And where there are waterfowl, there are eagles. We saw several Bald Eagles as they flew over the flocks looking for possible weak birds that would make an easy target.
What you often capture when trying to photograph a swimming River Otter
But the highlight of the day was seeing several River Otters. A friend had said he had seen a bunch on a recent trip so I was looking. Finally, I caught some motion out of the corner of my eye through the thick vegetation lining the canals – an otter! We drove up a bit and got out waiting on the otter to swim our way. It turned out to be three River Otters cruising the canal. They were very aware of our presence and barked and snorted their disapproval. At first, they proved to be difficult subjects for photography – just about the time I focused on an otter head, it would disappear with a ker-plunk.
River Otter bobbing up and down in the canal
Finally, one raised up to get a better look and I got a shot. It soon became a whole lot of images, as we walked along the banks of the canal trying to figure out where they would pop up next.
River Otter checking us out
The first siting had three otters. They disappeared through a culvert under the road and then we found five lounging on the bank. When they swam off, we came across three of them on another canal and began watching them. Two suddenly came up across the canal while one seemingly disappeared.
River Otter catches a fish
The two began swimming very close together and one had its head down relative to the other. I soon saw why – it had a fish it was dragging beneath the surface of the water. At first, I couldn’t make much out, but then the otter reached the shore opposite me and began to drag its prize up on the canal bank.
River Otter with fishTrying to subdue the meal
The fish looked huge compared to the size off the otter. I think it was a Carp, or perhaps a Bowfin. One otter had its paws full tying to lug the fish up on the bank while keeping the other otter at bay. This made for a lot of commotion and splashing, and not a very good view of the fish from where I stood.
The otters quickly stripped off chunks of the huge fish
The finest chefs have nothing on the skill of these otters as they quickly stripped off chunks of the fish and gulped them down, essentially fileting it, all while swimming and tussling with each other in the water.
River Otter giving us “the look”
We finally decided we had disturbed their meal long enough (in between bouts of fish eating one or both would occasionally give us “the look”). So, when they turned and swam off with the remains of their lunch, we let them be, amazed at what we had just witnessed.
A River Otter pauses to look one last time before swimming off down the canal
I never tire of watching these energetic mammalian masters of the aquatic realm. I will certainly keep my eyes open for them on my next trips down this way in the coming weeks.
Here are the long overdue results of the winter finch quiz from my last post, Finch Findings.
Purple Finch female – note the bold eye stripe and heavy streaking (click photos to enlarge)House Finch male – note the red color is confined mainly to the head and breast area, with brownish streaking on sidesPurple Finch male – note the raspberry juice color, and hint of a whitish belly. There is also a darkish stripe behind the eye. I also think the bill looks “heavier” than that of a House Finch.House Finch male – note the streaking on the breastPine Siskin – from this angle, it is mainly the streaking and very pointed bill that gives it away
On a less pleasing visual note…while photographing the finches last month, I noticed something I see every few years in the House Finches I encounter.
Male House Finch shows his “good” right eye
One finch landed and looked over his shoulder. After I snapped a quick photo, he turned his head to reveal a problem.
Male House Finch with House Finch disease
His left eye was swollen and red, an indicator of an eye disease known as House Finch Disease, or Mycoplasmal conjunctivitis. The disease is caused by a strain of bacteria that previously was known to infect only poultry and pigeons. It was first noticed in House Finches in the Washington, D.C. area in 1994. It spread rapidly through the House Finch population in the East and then was discovered in finches in their native western U.S. range in 2004.
Female House Finch with House Finch Disease
Birds can apparently recover from the disease if they don’t starve or get killed by predators (it certainly impacts their vision and thus their feeding efficiency and predator avoidance) but they are still carriers of the disease. It is transferred by direct contact with other birds, especially when flocking together in winter and congregating at feeders. Researchers say that the disease has cut the booming population of House Finches in the East by as much as half, but that now appears to have stabilized. While it is mainly found in House Finches, the disease has occasionally been seen in other finch species like American Goldfinches and Purple Finches. One source recommends periodically cleaning your feeders with soapy water and a mild bleach solution to help reduce this and other bird diseases.
This winter’s theme is a “mixed bag” of finch movements.
~Ron Pittaway, Ontario Field Ornithologists
Male Purple Finch at feeder (click photos to enlarge)
After seeing the first Purple Finches at my feeder a few weeks ago, I started searching online for some information. I ran across one of those interesting combinations of technology and old-fashioned field observations that seems so common in the birding world – Ron Pittaway’s Winter Finch Forecast 2014-2015. Winter finches are birds of far northern forests and include Purple Finches, Grosbeaks (Pine and Evening), Redpolls (Common and Hoary), Crossbills (Red and White-winged), and Pine Siskins. What all of these birds have in common is that they are primarily seed eaters, and in the northern forests, the key tree species for them are spruces, birches, and mountain ashes. Ron and his collaborators do extensive surveys every year and assess the status of the seed crop of these tree species and use that to predict southward movements of the various finches. And they are usually spot on…2012-2013 was predicted to be a great finch year down south (and it was), and last year he predicted a poor one due to abundant seed crops. And, indeed, last year, I did not see a single Purple Finch or Pine Siskin.
Pine Siskins are small, streaky, finches with a very pointed bill, and hints of yellow on their wings.
So, this year Ron predicts Purple Finches will move south in decent numbers, along with scattered Pine Siskins, but many of the other species will show limited southward movements due to good crops of certain tree seeds. As I write this, there are about a dozen Purple Finches on the feeder outside my window. I have seen one (an odd number as they usually come in small flocks) Pine Siskin thus far this winter. One non-finch species Ron suggests will move south in moderate numbers this year is the Red-breasted Nuthatch, another seed eater.
House Finch male
I think many backyard bird-watchers have some difficulty in identifying our finches, especially in separating the more urban-dwelling, year-round resident, House Finch, from the irregular winter visitor, the Purple Finch. House Finches are a common feeder bird in the East after having been released in New York City in 1940 from a stock brought from their native range of the West Coast for the pet trade. They nest and feed in areas near human habitation, but I see more out along the power line some winters, which indicates, they too, probably undergo winter migrations in especially cold weather. Male House Finches have varying amounts of red on their head and back, a red eyebrow, throat, and upper breast, brownish streaks on their sides and belly, and a square or slightly notched tail. The amount of red is variable because it depends on the individual bird’s diet (red pigments in bird feathers come from a class of compounds called carotenoids, found in plants).
Purple Finch male
Male Purple Finches are more wine-red on their head, breast, sides, and rump, and have a white belly and strongly notched tail. The famed ornithologist, Roger Tory Peterson, described the male Purple Finch as looking like a sparrow dipped in raspberry juice.
House Finch female
Females of the two species are a bit more difficult to distinguish. House Finch females have brown upperparts with some streaking, and brownish white underparts with faint brown streaks.
Purple Finch female
Purple Finch females have brown upperparts, and white underparts that are more boldly streaked with brown. But to me, the most distinctive difference is the bold, white eyebrow stripe on the female Purple Finch (lacking in the female House Finch).
So, here is a little quiz to help you identify those birds you may be seeing at your feeders this winter. Answers will be posted later in the week.
When I no longer thrill to the first snow of the season, I’ll know I’m growing old.
~Claudia “Lady Bird” Johnson
I have to admit, that describes me. I love snow and winter – I know, I am outside the norm on this one, but I do. And my first snow of the season happened over Thanksgiving, in the mountains of Virgina, at my parent’s home near Damascus. Actually, it happened on the way up the day before Thanksgiving. It had been raining when I left Pittsboro, then turned sunny, and then I started to hit snow near Boone as I climbed in elevation. Somehow, driving in it is a bit less thrilling, mainly because of concern about the other drivers out there. But when you have the chance to walk in it, to watch it fall from the sky, to see it start to turn the world white – that is a thrill.
Sycamore trunk with a light dusting of snow (click photos to enlarge)
There was little snow when I first arrived in Damascus. But it snowed overnight, and was lightly snowing on Thanksgiving morning, so I headed down to the river after breakfast to just be in it. Unfortunately, the big flakes that had been falling as we sat at the table and ate, turned to tiny specks of ice, and then disappeared altogether, about the time I headed out. But a quiet walk in fresh snow, even a light snow, is rewarding.
Tree leaning out over the river below my parents’ house
The next night it snowed again, replenishing the light covering on the ground that had melted the afternoon before.
Dad’s barn surrounded by a light dusting of snow and an incredible sky
Every morning when I am there, I grab a cup of coffee and head up the long driveway to get the newspaper. A nice ritual that allows me time to appreciate the early morning light, the birds, and the sky. There is an old barn near the road that, although my folks think is perhaps due for repair or replacement, has always appealed to me. It seems to fit the landscape so well and speaks of hard work and the passage of time. I frequently stop and take a picture or two with my phone because it is such a quintessential rural scene. The first morning there was patchy snow on the ground, but the second morning added some high, thin clouds, and that made all the difference when viewed in black and white.
The snow melted quickly Friday with the bright sunshine but I could see nearby mountains still covered in white, especially the aptly named Whitetop Mountain, the second highest peak in Virgina. So, the next morning as I was heading hone, I took the longer route through the mountains, hoping to see a bit more of a winter wonderland. The winter mood was certainly in evidence as I drove because of the workers busily harvesting Christmas trees to be shipped to market. There must be thousands of acres of tree farms in these mountains, a phenomenon of the past few decades that has significantly altered the landscape and local economy. When I reached the gravel road up to Whitetop, I could see that it was much less white than the day before, with most of the snow and ice that had been coating the trees now gone. Plus, the steep winding road was very icy, so I opted for another location, nearby Grayson Highlands State Park.
Snowy woods at Grayson Highlands State Park
The road up into the park had been scraped and temperatures had reached the mid-forties by late morning, so travel was easy . But there was still a good amount of snow on the ground – at last, real snow.
Picnic table at Massie Gap
Arriving at the end of the open section of road at Massie Gap, I found a half dozen other cars and bout 6 inches of snow on the ground. This is my favorite Virgina state park and one of my favorite areas in the eastern U.S.
View of Wilburn Ridge
The trail up from Massie Gap reminds me more of Montana than an eastern mountain trail. There are large rock outcrops, open grasslands, and scattered patches of Red Spruce. The shrub layer is almost entirely huckleberry, and is a favorite hiking spot in August when the tasty fruit ripen.
Even though temperatures were rising and the sun was bright, it still felt like winter as I hiked up the trail. The wind was blowing and had that unmistakable bite to it as is so often the case in these highlands. As I walked my eyes turned to the ground and those intricate details that only wind and snow can create, ephemeral sculptures and miniature landscapes that often go unnoticed unless you happen to be walking in a stiff wind, head down to protect your face from the stinging cold. Below are a few photos of the patterns created by wind and snow.
The walk was a great way to gain perspective, to think, to appreciate sensations. The writer and naturalist Edwin Way Teale summed up my strange love of winter nicely…
Of the four seasons, spring entices, summer makes you welcome, autumn gives you a lingering farewell, but winter remains aloof. We think of it as harsh and uncompromising. We speak of the dead months, the night of the year, the return of the ice age, the winter of our discontent. Yet, paradoxically, in its own way, winter is a time of superlative life. Frosty air sets our blood to racing. The nip of the wind quickens our step.
Here’s to many more walks with quick steps and racing blood…
…he wears a coat of the purest, richest, and most gorgeous blue on back, wings, and tail; he carries on his back the blue of heaven and the rich brown of the freshly turned earth on his breast…
~Arthur Cleveland Bent, in Life Histories of Familiar North American Birds, 1949.
Eastern Bluebird, male (click photos to enlarge)
I finally had a chance to sit out along the power line the other morning to watch and photograph some of the comings and goings of the local birds. It wasn’t long until I heard the familiar “tur-a-wee” call of the Eastern Bluebird. A small flock gathered in a treetop along the edge of the clearing and softly voiced their opinion to whomever would listen. This distinctive call is believed to be a location note between birds – sort of a “here I am, where are you” phrase.
I waited patiently, and they finally dropped down to drink some water in the flower pot base I have on the ground (surrounded by rocks and sticks to make it look a little more natural), and to feed on the suet at the feeding station.
Bluebird getting a drink
This time of year, bluebirds gather in small flocks and move through their territory feeding on insects (on warm days) and fruit like Red Cedar and American Holly berries. Males and females call to one another and I often see pairs checking out some of the nest boxes as if they are planning ahead for next season.
Eastern Bluebird, female
They normally seem to get along just fine but the other day there was some squabbling going on between two pairs of the birds with one female being particularly aggressive. She would fly at one of the others in the flock and they would tangle mid-air, land a few feet apart, and do it again.
Female Eastern Bluebird having a bad hair day
She seemed to be getting the worst of it as some feathers atop her head were misplaced as though she had taken a beak to the skull in one of the scuffles. This went one for about ten minutes until whatever seemed to be bothering them was settled, and they flew off together and starting giving call notes again. I guess we all have our cranky moments.
Eastern Bluebird female in early morning light
Bluebirds in this area tend to stay around all winter as we usually have enough warm days to cause some insects to stir, and in suitable habitat, there are a lot of shrubs and trees that have berries. I see them moving through the woods more in winter (in warmer months they tend to be just out along the power line corridor), but it may be partly due to the fact that they tend to be in small flocks this time of year and are therefore more visible.
Eastern Bluebird, male
I am just glad they are here, adding a cheery note and a brilliant splash of color to the increasingly gray and brown world of my woods.
Roads End Naturalist 