"Fri-D:" Duck Wings Disappear

 The little sliver of white across the side of this male American Wigeon, at Cape May Point State Park last week, is all you can see of the big white patch covering the bird's upperwing coverts. Notice how the scapulars drape over the wing from above, and the wing folds into the flank feathers below it. Beware field guides that show wing markings on sitting ducks, because often the entire wing is hidden by the body plumage. This is something that anyone who has tried to identify female wigeon, female Gadwall, or White-winged Scoters are well aware of. It's a wonderful adaptation to keep a swimming bird warm.

Below, the bold upperwing pattern of a male American Wigeon taking off from Cox Hall Creek WMA, last winter. Click to enlarge the photos.

Thoughtful Thursday: Stochasticity

[American Black Ducks in a freezing downpour.]

"At times, the public has gotten the impression from the media that nature is free of risk or danger, when it may actually contain furtive or cantankerous animals, thick dust, freezing downpours, ravenous insects, disorienting topography, and overall stochasticity."
-Kristina Boyd, The Ethics of Wildlife Photography

[Definition of stochasticiy, by the way, is this: s--t happens.  This quote came across the Wildlife Society News at an interesting time for me, since my Christmas gift this week was -gasp- cable TV. I've lived without TV for many, many years, and yet am aware from many hotel room nights of just how ridiculous the TV portrayal of nature can be. I lucked into an episode of Bigfoot Hunters on Animal Planet at a hotel in Illinois a few weeks ago, and laughed my a-- off for 45 minutes. Oh the wonders of modern entertainment. But watch out for that overall stochasticity.]

Wordless Wednesday

 [American Oystercatcher at dinner on Nummy Island, click to enlarge all photos.]

Birds That Are Not Townsend's Warblers

Two mornings looking for - make that chasing - the Cape May, NJ Townsend's Warbler remind me why I don't chase birds, but there are consolations. The consolations I didn't get pictures of were many, most unusual of which was the Blackpoll Warbler along Harvard in Cape May Point. Blackpolls are unheard of in NJ in December, since they belong in the Amazon basin by now. Nor did the Orange-crowned Warblers cooperate, and the White-fronted Goose was too far away. But the King Eider was shootable, and so were a few common species that make fine Christmas eve presents.

 [Immature male King Eider off St. Mary's this morning. Click to enlarge all photos.]

 [Cape May point is riddled with Red-breasted Nuthatches.]

 [A skulky Hermit Thrush in Cape May Point State Park.]

[The Hermit Thrush's relative, so common but I really love them: American Robin.]

[I couldn't extract a Rough-legged Hawk from the vultures over Cape May, and it looks like the season will go roughleg-less there. Turkey Vultures with one Black Vulture, upper left.]

[The Christmas bird, Northern Cardinal. Merry Christmas all!]

"Fri-D:" Taking Juncoes to the Next Level

David Sibley just wrote a blog about how to tell the sexes of juncoes - by their shape and posture! Check it out!

And while you're at it, consider this: what is David Sibley doing studying juncoes? Because he loves birds, for one thing, but also, what's more fun (and better for your birding skills) than to know the common birds intimately?

Thoughtful Thursday - with Memories of Meteors and Newtown

May they all rest in peace.

". . .She lighted another match, and then she found herself sitting under a beautiful Christmas tree. It was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one she had seen thru the rich merchant's glass door. Thousands of tapers were burning upon the green branches, and colored pictures, like those she had seen in the show-windows, looked down upon it all. The little one stretched out her hand towards them, and the match went out.

"The Christmas lights rose higher and higher till they looked to her like the stars in the sky. Then she saw a star fall, leaving behind it it a bright streak of fire. "Some one is dying," thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, and who was now in Heaven had told her that when a star falls, a soul was going up to God."
- Hans Christian Anderson, The Little Match Girl

Wordless Wednesday - a Bill Meant for Business

[click to enlarge]

Indiana has Lots of Squirrels, and other Naturalist Reflections

[Gray Squirrel, Turkey Run State Park, IN last week. Despite the foxy color of the ears and back, the gray tips to the tail hairs rule out Fox Squirrel, also common in Indiana.]

An expert geologist friend of mine said he always felt anchored in new places by the rocks - which he knew, knew where they came from. Knowing gave him a footing in any region.

Me? My anchor is birds, of course. And squirrels, apparently, because the first natural thing I noticed driving west from Indianapolis along unfamiliar I-74 last week was an abundance of squirrel nests in the bare woodlot trees of Indiana's flat, corn-picked landscape. So, there are a lot of squirrels in Indiana. Those must be oaks and walnuts. Probably Red-tailed Hawks and Great-horned Owls around eating the squirrels. You can't feel at home until you're at home with the landscape. I've often thought that what I'd really like to do is live a while, like a year, in each of the North American biomes, to really get to know them. I've been in all of them, but you need to live in a place a while, experience the seasons, to understand it. From desert to temperate rainforest. . . someday, maybe. You'd think Indiana was in the prairie biome, but it's mainly cut over deciduous forest. The trees were familiar, where I could find them.

Soon a few birds trickled onto my Indiana list, though I think the list remains solidly under 20 species. It was a "life" state, but there on business as I was, and binocularless (gasp), I didn't do too much looking for birds. Redtail, Harrier, White-breasted Nuthatch, chickadee sp., Downy Woodpecker. . . you get the picture. I did visit the very wonderful Turkey Run State Park for too short a visit, highly recommended. Great feeders at the nature center there.

Back at home, this morning the Cape May Christmas Bird Count re-anchored me, starting with the Snow Geese calling overhead as I left the house at 5:00 a.m. Two Sedge Wrens at the end of Pierce's Point Road tschupped with Clapper Rails as the chorus, and a Virginia Rail grunted in response to my screech owl calls at the first marsh you hit on Pierce's Point Road. We hit a field full of sparrows on Cape May NWR in a section seldom birded, along 47 north of Green Creek, which included a Vesper and multiple White-crowneds.

I haven't had much opportunity for photography in recent weeks, but here's a loon that fed close to the 8th street Jetty in Avalon, often coming up with a crab. Crabs seem to be the favorite Common Loon food in winter, at least close to shore.

[Common Loon at Avalon, NJ, December 15 2012. Click to enlarge. I wish my raingear was as water repellent as this guy's.]

Thoughtful Thursday - Gratitude as We Give, Get and Feast

[White-throated Sparrow and its feast, Cape May Point, NJ.]

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”
- Melody Beattie

Wordless Wednesday: Fog

[Click to enlarge.]

Love and Death

[Note: there's a somewhat gory photo at the bottom of this post; some readers might want to skip it. Not the Cooper's Hawk, however. . . ]

 

 [The Western Grebe in Cape May Harbor seems to have "decoyed to," or perhaps even fallen in love with, this sort-of, kind-of Western-Grebe-looking buoy. Cape May, NJ this morning, click to enlarge photos.]

Fog lay heavy over the land and water alike this morning, so attending household tasks and then walking the dog took precedence over trying to bird. But you're never not birding, and Cox Hall Creek was even birdy in the fog, with a flock of 25+ juncoes sharing a morning feast of Sweet Gum seeds fallen to earth with a Fox Sparrow along the easternmost path, and the usual bluebirds and other sparrows fed and flushed in front of us (me and the dog).

An unexpected flush was the Cooper's Hawk which leapt from the ground along one of the paths and perched nearby, looking decidedly annoyed. Soon I could see why - a spot of white on the ground became the throat of a partially consumed Wood Duck, which answered a question I was asked of Cooper's Hawks on Friday during a walk I was leading at Forsythe NWR: "Cooper's don't ever take ducks, though, do they?"

They do indeed, this became duck species number three I've seen them grab, the others being Green-winged Teal, which you might expect because they're small, and Ring-necked Duck, which you might not expect because although they're small they're awfully fast in flight, and yet in Hunterdon County, NJ I onced watched a Coop neatly extract a Ring-necked from a racing flock and bring it to earth.

The remains of the woodie are pictured below, with the Coop having plucked and eaten most of the breast before I and dog interrupted it.

After the dog walk I finally made it down to Cape May Harbor to see the continuing Western Grebe, which has seemed to attach itself to a decoy of sorts: a buoy looking only slightly like another Western Grebe, perhaps one sleeping. You be the judge. From duck hunting I know certain birds are very confiding and non-discriminating when it comes to decoys - like Buffleheads, for example, which will come right in and plop right down in your decoy spread. Looks like Western Grebe falls into that category. Birds don't see the world the way we do. Foolish though it is or not, I was delighted to see it, a rare bird indeed on the east coast.

[Drake Wood Duck partially consumed by a Cooper's Hawk, Cox Hall Creek WMA, NJ this morning. The Coop ate most of the breast, but apparently wasn't strong enough to pick its prey up and carry it off when I approached. Sorry for the quality - phone photo.]

"Fri-D" - Red CrossbillS (sic)

[Male type 3 Red Crossbill, Cape May Point State Park, NJ, November 25, 2012. A little flock descended into the pines along the exit road to the park and fed for a bit. Click to enlarge.]

Here it is, December. Already by the end of November you reach a point where it feels over, not just the temperature, but the birds, too. Hardly a migrant to be found, though I guess Red Crossbills can count as migrants or wanderers at least, and a very few Red-winged Blackbirds and Yellow-rumped Warblers moved across the sky like they were going someplace the last time I was in Cape May Point. Birds, it is said, are migrating every day of the year. But the days of going out and expecting to find a lot of new birds are clearly done until spring.

So now what? I don't have cable, and though I love to read, not when the sun's shining. Go see the same ducks on the duck ponds and same sparrows in the thickets? Dig hard for a rarity, like the Western Grebe recently found on Cape May Harbor? If it's rare birds you need, you have a problem, because rare birds are rare.

There's always stuff to work on. Like, the calls of the various types of Red Crossbills - there's a winter project for you. Types 2, 3 and 10 have been heard in Cape May, with most by far having been the irrupting western Type 3. If you haven't polished your flight call ear for the subtleties found in a single note, here's your chance. Which was it, pip-pip, tik-tik or whit-whit? Good luck with that. The truth is, there is only a small handful of people who, when they report a particular type of Red Crossbill, I believe them, though if you listen to one type and then the other, you can hear the differences. Read the linked article, and like I said, good luck!

Thoughtful Thursday: The Fox

[Fox Sparrow at the Beanery, Cape May, NJ, November 22 2012.]

"I am sometimes a fox and sometimes a lion. The whole secret of government lies in knowing when to be the one or the other."
- Napoleon Bonaparte

[Seems relevant at the edge of the fiscal cliff. . . ]

Wordless Wednesday