Fri-D: the First Two Questions, and Learning from a Child



"What kind of bird's eggs are camouflaged?" That isn't one of the "first two questions" from the title of this post, but it is the one that eventually led to this post. 

 

The person asking was a nice woman along on a Cape May Young Birders' field trip organized by Deb and Richard Crossley and being led by Glen Davis and me. The woman had brought her young daughter, Marisa, who I immediately liked because she was keen to study birds, and even sketched them in the field as we birded. Several of the kids on this field trip, at Cape May Point State Park, were pretty darn sharp, and getting sharper and more interested in birds thanks to what Richard and Deb are accomplishing by organizing these trips.

 

Anyhow, about the two questions. Whenever any new birder or non-birder asks about a bird, you want to ask two questions right away. First, "Where was it?"

 

"On the ground, not on the lawn but. . ." At this point I interupted the woman and suggested, "Killdeer?" before she finished. It had to be - a bird with camouflaged eggs, findable by a new birder, that was on the ground near a lawn.

 

But when I asked the second important question, "What did it look like?" the answer wasn't clear enough to confirm the i.d. But then I had a thought.

 

"Hey, Marisa, you didn't happen to draw the bird, did you?"

 

"I think so." How much better would we all be as birders if we only took the time to sketch birds or at least make some notes about them, the way young Marisa did? She leafed through her sketchpad, a collection of bright fanciful birds and some more down-to-earth sketches, all better than what I could manage (which is why I take photos instead of drawing).

 

Marisa held up the page with the bird with the camouflaged eggs, and I felt absolutely proud of her, though I'd met her only an hour before. Her drawing perfectly clinched the the identification. Here's Marisa's Killdeer:

 

 

Thoughtful Thursday: Tide

"Time and tide wait for no man."
- Geoffrey Chaucer, ca. 1360

And for no Ruddy Turnstone, either, so it must wait for the tide to fall to feed, as this one was doing at Forsythe NWR. I really felt this quote a week ago, when I went paddling in my kayak in an area affected by Hurricane Sandy, and wound up fighting the tide unexpectedly, and for a long time.

A Wordy Wordless Wednesday - Dung Beetle

[One of the species of genus Canthon dung beetles, rolling its prize along the path at Kuser Bog, High Point State Park, NJ on June 1. Another, presumed female, beetle was in close attendance. These were lifers for me. According to Eaton and Kaufman's Field Guide to Insects of North America, "Males roll balls of dung, while females ride atop or assist alongside. The pair eventually bury each sphere a few inches underground. The female lays an egg on the 'brood ball,' and a humpbacked larvae develops inside."]

Highlights from the North, and Thoughts About Detection Probability

 [A glimpse of the delightfully common (in High Point, NJ) Chestnut-sided Warbler. Click to enlarge all photos.]

When you fall asleep to Whip-poor-wills, Barred Owls, and a frog symphony, and wake to Cerulean Warblers, Pileated Woodpeckers, Chestnut-sided Warblers, Yellow Warblers, and a persistently gobbling Wild Turkey, you know you're living right. That's what it was like camping at the Sawmill Lake Campground in High Point State Park, NJ this weekend - the vocalists even drowned out the human neighbors in the campground.

Camping means you're living among the birds, and your detection probability for any birds around your campsite is understandably quite high. What I mean by detection probability is, what are the odds of you actually locating a bird by sound or sight that is there for the locating?

If a given bird is within sight or earshot of a place you are spending a lot of time (like a campsite, with dinner in the evening, morning coffee, afternoon snooze. . .), your chances of detecting it are much higher than if you pay a short visit. Thus, I feel confident that while we may have missed the Ruffed Grouse and Black-throated Blue Warblers at Kuser Bog during our hikes there, we didn't miss anything near our campsite, because we probably spent 10 daylight hours and two whole nights there over the course of the weekend.

Except, riddle me this, Batman - how come it took until the third day at the campsite before we recorded the White-breasted Nuthatch and Warbling Vireo there? Where were those birds? Maybe the vireo was a "floater" male, that truly wasn't around until day three, but the permanent resident nuthatch? He or she was just living a quiet life, or maybe feeding young and keeping a low profile.

Some birds are more vocal, or active, and hence more detectable than others. Persistent singers like Red-eyed Vireos and even Cerulean Warblers come to mind. Then there are the grouse or Winter Wrens of the world - in my experience, these guys wait silently in the shadows, when in all fairness they ought to open up a little more.

This kind of stuff always gives me angst when I compete in the World Series of Birding - yes, I've scouted the bird, yes I know it is there, but will it make its presence known during that oh-so-brief interval when my team is nearby? This is why I like camping, slow hikes, and slow mountain bike rides much better than fast-paced competitive birding.

Even at that slow pace during the weekend, we missed the grouse, the only species on the sort of year "hit list" I had for this trip that we failed to detect. The other hit-list birds were pretty much gimmee's in High Point: Common Raven, Least Flycatcher, Alder Flycatcher, Yellow-throated Vireo, Black-capped Chickadee, Cerulean Warbler. Nashville Warbler, which we found, is no longer a bird easy to find breeding in NJ, if they ever were, so I was pleased to hear one.

Ruffed Grouse is a bird with a rather low detection probability in late May to begin with, since by now they are pretty much done drumming for the year, which means you might get a drum every half hour - if you're lucky. Although friends of mine reported grouse at Kuser Bog just the day before we were there. Aaargh. My next move on grouse is to hike the heck out of their habitat over the summer, which gives me a chance of either flushing one or encountering a hen with a brood, which has happened to me more often than that particular probability should allow. More trips to north Jersey!

 [Yellow-throated Vireo, a regular breeder in rich woods and nicely responsive to pishing.]

 [A female Yellow Warber had a gorgeous nest of cattail fluff and other plant material within sight of our campfire, but since she she was very secretive and flushed as soon as anyone approached the nest, I settled for a shot of the male Yellow Warbler instead.]

 [This Scarlet Tanager is wondering what that was all about, "that" being a remarkably territorial Rose-breasted Grosbeak that chased it all around the margin of the Deckertown Marsh in High Point.]

[We heard a muffled knocking on the path to Kuser Bog, and soon located a likely nest hole. When I hooted like a Barred Owl, a female Hairy Woodpecker appeared at the hole's entrance - she apparently had been doing some housework inside. Here, the male Hairy brings food to youngsters, which could be heard begging inside. ]

[Joy to the naturalist, a Pink Lady's Slipper blooming near Kuser Bog in High Point. The place is more than just birds.]

I've Been Missing You

[A pair of Pileated Woodpeckers in High Point State Park, NJ, a few years ago.]

Here's to you, my sweet northern New Jersey woods. I've been missing you, your Black Bears and birches and oaks and hemlocks.

If plans go accordingly, when this post appears I will be camping, mountain biking, and birding in High Point State Park, Sussex County, NJ, where Pileated Woodpeckers will wake me, I hope, and Black-capped Chickadees will greet me when I pish. That would be my year Black-capped Chickadees, if you can believe it - I've not been north of NJ's chickadee Mason-Dixon line yet this year.

If there's another county I'd live in than Cape May, it would be Sussex, NJ, which has a remarkable expanse of protected public land (something like 70% of the county) and birds to make a respectable birder drool - like, in the right habitat, fairly common breeding Cerulean Warblers, for example. Abundant Veeries, Least Flycatchers che-beking next to beaver ponds, ravens croaking overhead - whooo boy, I can't wait. In Don's dream world, we'd find a way to hook Sussex and Cape May together, and the only problem we'd have is every birder in the world would want to live here, and they wouldn't all fit.

More to come about our Sussex adventures!