Migrations speak to us, not just as observers of nature but as integral parts of it. The world moves and, deep inside, we long to move with it. Mike Bergin
Spring is truly here. I look out the door and see the rapid changes, the appearance of so many new things. But I can also tell by what is missing…the smell of the smoke from my wood stove, the chill in the morning air, and the dominant feeder birds from the past few months. I was going to post something on this last week to encourage you to watch for their disappearance as the warm weather of the past week moved in. But, I was gone a few days and when I returned, they were all but gone, just like that, as if the pale spring green of leaf-out had sent them packing. It is much easier to document the first arrivals. The last departures do not resonate in my brain as well. One day the birds are here, and a week later I realize I haven’t seen them for awhile. But this changing of the guard is as sure a sign of spring as the growing palette of greens.
Are any of these birds still at your feeders?
The Juncos, (many people call them Snow Birds) are our classic winter feeder bird although at my feeders they tend to stay mostly on the ground beneath the feeders. Peak abundance in the Piedmont is mid-October to mid-April. They move north or to higher elevations in our mountains to breed. I always enjoy finding their nests along the trails at Mt. Mitchell each summer.
Purple Finches are one of winter finches that tend to vary in abundance from year to year. Roger Tory Peterson described males of this species as a “sparrow dipped in raspberry juice.” Females are streaky brown with a distinct white eye stripe. Purple Finches are often confused with House Finches, a year-round resident in our area. Purple Finches are far more common out here in the woods.
One of my favorite visitors to the suet feeders is the energetic Ruby-crowned Kinglet. Unlike its cousin, the Golden-crowned Kinglet, this species does not breed in our high mountains but moves to the far northern U.S. and Canada to nest. Male Ruby-crown’s only occasionally show their reddish crown. These tiny birds are easily recognized by their habit of wing flicking.
The only one of these winter birds still at my feeder as of yesterday is the Pine Siskin (although I have not seen one this morning, so they, too, may be gone). They are one of the so-called irruptive species, whose numbers on the wintering grounds can fluctuate greatly from year to year depending on food resources and weather in their northern forest habitats. And this has been an amazing year for siskins – on my Great Backyard Bird Count this past February, I had 62 siskins at once at one feeder. I’m sure there were well over a hundred between all three feeders, but their squabbling and rapid comings and goings made them tough to count. Although they do gulp down the black oil sunflower seeds, siskins are especially fond of thistle seed. My bank account will appreciate the rest once they are gone.
And this week has also brought some members of the new guard – the return of a Brown Thrasher to my garden, the teach, teach, teach song of an Ovenbird down in the woods, and my first Ruby-throated Hummingbird this morning. It has begun…