A “superflight” irruption for North Carolina – the pine siskins

As mentioned in my previous blog, North Carolina’s Piedmont region is experiencing a spectacular winter irruption of multiple finch species. So many birds have migrated south from the northern USA and Canada that scientists are calling this a “superflight” year. The first to arrive in my yard during this irruption were the pine siskins (Spinus pinus).

Scientists don’t yet know as much about siskin migration as they would like to know. From 1960 to 2011, almost 675,000 siskins were banded but only 2000 of them were ever spotted again.

However, it is known that the siskins enjoy eating many types of seeds. The finches’ usual diets up North center around the fruit and seeds of spruce, pine, hemlocks, maples, and beech trees, among others. Some species favor certain trees, while others enjoy eating a large variety of seeds.

In “mast years,” the forests provide large amounts of seeds that both feed animals (e.g., birds, squirrels) and provide the germination material for new vegetation. In other years, the forests produce very few crops because of fires, drought, and outbreaks of spruce budworms that eat the needles of spruce and balsam firs, which can kill the trees. In 2020, it was noteworthy that authorities in Quebec were unable to completely treat the forest trees for budworms because of the COVID epidemic.

 

Some trees also have slow biological cycles. For example, the Eastern white pine (Pinus strobus), known to the Iroquois as the “tree of peace,” has cone production that peaks every 3 to 5 years.

When mast years have taken place and there are large budworm infestations, the finches have plenty to eat and their numbers increase substantially. When the following seed- and cone-poor years occur, the large populations then need to travel further away to find sufficient food supplies and that is what has now brought them to our area.

The pine siskins arrived in my yard in late autumn. They came in a large crowd, with some 30 birds flocking to the feeders at a time. Most of these little brown and beige birds have a trace of yellow on their wings.

About 1% of the siskins – all males – have more yellow or yellow-green coloring on their backs, heads and under-tail coverts. These so-called “green morphs” also have less streaking on their chests. The siskins above may be in this group. Interestingly, whereas female birds of many species prefer brightly colored males as their mates, female siskins appear to choose males with less yellow to distinguish them.

 

What really distinguishes the siskins for me – in addition to their penchant for visiting in large groups – is their feistiness. They seem to be very troubled by the idea that there may not be enough seeds to satisfy their appetites if many other birds are around.

Below you see them challenging a house finch, a downy woodpecker and cardinals.

 

And this includes not only birds of other species but also their species mates with whom they arrive! They first will open their seed-filled mouths to “yell” at the incoming diners.

Next, they may open their wings in a challenging display.

 

Sometimes they seem to be taking food from another’s mouths! (But perhaps this is not aggressive but a sign of care between family members?)

Finally, they will fly at their food rivals in an effort to drive them off.

Unlike other members of the finch family, the siskins not only eat a very large variety of seeds from conifers, deciduous trees, grasses, weeds and flowers. They also forage for insects and have been seen to drink from sapsucker sapwells in trees.

A group of siskins can clean out a feeder with mixed seeds in my yard in very short order indeed. They have developed body mechanisms to help them survive cold nights: increasing their metabolic rates and gaining body fat for the winter.

 

This is accomplished by eating more seeds than they can process right away; they can store seeds weighing up to 10% of their body mass in their crop (part of the esophagus) for a short period so that they have access to more energy during the night!

 

Some local birders who were delighted to see them at the beginning of the season are now occasionally voicing “regrets” since large groups continue to visit their feeders. They could refrain from putting out seed and hope the flocks move away so they don’t spend so much on bird seed, but many birders would then miss seeing the other species and don’t want to forego that pleasure.

 

 

Fortunately, the siskins have been eating seeds from crepe myrtles and other trees in my yard so their visits to my feeders have been somewhat sporadic when the weather is mild. When it rains or gets very cold, they return in feisty groups!

“My” yard siskins have also refrained from pecking at the cement of my brick house. Other birders have seen them chipping away at chimney and brick cement – they do this get at minerals contained in the cement.

 

While the siskins migrate in very large groups (e.g., flocks numbering up to a few thousand individuals!), they are still considered to be a common bird that is showing a steep decline in numbers. They are vulnerable to predators as well as contagious diseases spread at feeders such as salmonella.

Although we are still in the throes of winter in North Carolina, spring is fast approaching and it’s uncertain how long these irruption birds will stay. I’ll miss these lively little visitors when travel back up North!

Some beauty to offset a distressing week

This past week in the USA has been rather distressing as far as health and politics are concerned. The COVID epidemic is wreaking havoc and then humans wrought havoc during a procedure intended to be part of a peaceful transition of governmental power. So we can all use a bit of distraction to remind us there is also still beauty in the world and I’ll end my last trio of posts with one more view of hummingbirds – this time featuring the one species that visits my home every year, the ruby-throated hummingbird (Archilochus colubris).

Fortunately, my yard now has several types of plants that offer the hummers natural nectars to complement their primarily insectivorous diet.

The rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus) flowers are a popular feeding site.

They are also fond of the blue-black sage (Salvia guaranitica). My original plants were a gift from birding friend, Gail; now they are growing in four areas of the yard. Sometimes a hummer doesn’t want to hover but uses a nearby prop to offer some less strenuous feeding. And then the bird can close its eyes to thoroughly enjoy the sweet sap.

Hot lips sage shrubs (Salvia microphylla ‘Hot Lips‘), which I got at a garden center, have proved to be popular feeding sites. This is quite a hardy plant.

The hummers also like going to the lantanas (Lantana) and the yellow passionflower (Passiflora lutea), which kindly came to my yard on its own.

 

Another popular plant is the butterfly bush (Buddleia davidii).  Many recommend against planting this bloomer because it can be invasive. However, some garden centers have developed varieties that scarcely seed and that must be what I luckily got as it has never appeared anywhere else in the yard in more than a decade.

It also attracts butterflies, bees, syrphid flies and hummingbird moths, so I’m quite happy with my butterfly bush.

The ruby-throats also do like their nectar, however. After visiting various flowers, they often take a seat near or on the nectar feeder so they can sip at their leisure.

 

They will also do their best to keep other hummers away from the nectar feeder — even when I have as many as three or four feeders available.

They keep an eye out for intruders.

When a rival appears, it can lead to confrontations. Mostly these involve aggressive displays and chasing one another; only very rarely have I seen them actually physically engage.

This past summer, a few laid-back moments occurred when they tolerated one another.

It’s not only the males who are aggressive; female hummers can also be quite protective of feeding grounds. This past year, it seemed that I had mostly males visiting. While a female hummer can have one or two red spots under her chin, usually that is the beginning of a young male developing his ruby-throat.

It can be fun to watch as more spots appear with passing days.

 

Eventually, the males get their fully developed gorget, which can be quite stunning.

The red hue is very dependent on how the light hits their feathers. In some cases, the red feathers almost look black.

  

The hummers take care to groom their feathers.

They take advantage of the rain to have a shower.

There are times when they look a bit scruffy, however. That is when they molt. This process of replacing old feathers with new ones usually takes place on their wintering grounds. This past summer, the hummers seemed to have lingered longer than usual and began molting before their trips further south.

White feathers appear more and more as molting proceeds. And feathers come loose before falling away.

They can look a bit scruffy during this time.

Eventually, they get back to their pretty selves. It always stays fun to watch them flying — at least for me. That is when you can see their tiny feet better.

And you get an idea of how rapidly their small wings move as they hover and soar.

They can beat their wings up to 70 times per second!

It doesn’t seem to me that I’ll ever tire of watching these tiny fliers; they always are entertaining. I hope seeing some photos of them in action have provided you with a brief respite from the worries of the world, too.

Surprise gifts from Mother Nature in 2018 – part 1: birds

On the last day of January 2019, I thought it would still be ok to post a couple blogs on some surprises I encountered the past year. Almost always when I go out on nature walks, I encounter something new – a species of wildlife or plant that I have not seen before or an interaction between species not previously observed. So, I wanted to share a few of those delightful surprises from 2018. In this blog, I focus on birds; in the next part, other kinds of wildlife will be featured.

As I mentioned in a previous blog, my own front yard was the scene of my biggest surprise last year when a snowstorm brought feeder visitors whom I had never seen before and who rarely come to the state where I live. The evening grosbeaks were just stunning.

 

They were not the only grosbeaks who treated me with their beauty, however. I’ve had rose-breasted grosbeaks (Pheucticus ludovicianus) visit the feeders before, but they still always elicit my appreciation with their bright colors.

 

In late October, an osprey (Pandion haliaetus) made me stop for a photo as the other birds of its species had already gone south for the winter. The bird was perched on a branch extended over a pond and had to unfortunately contend with a persistent crow that was harassing it. After some time, the sea eagle finally took off with the crow in pursuit – it seemed that the osprey might have injured its wing and perhaps that accounted for a delayed departure to warmer climes.

  

Although the pursuit photos are not high-quality, you can see a gap in the osprey’s wing and perhaps it was waiting for healing before it undertook a very long journey.

 

On another day, I was near a wetland when an unexpected visitor flew onto a branch above me. Green herons (Butorides virescens) usually keep their distance from me; I regretted that it was overcast and the lighting was not wonderful for my close-up portrait of this colorful immature bird.

 

A more muted bird, but lovely nonetheless, is the Northern mockingbird (Mimus polyglottus). When I saw this individual in late December, I was thinking that it must be difficult for them to find food as the vegetation shrivels and insects are in hiding. At that moment, the bird dropped to the ground and was foraging – coming up with a bug to prove that they still could find sustenance in the cold temperatures!

  

The mockingbirds are often solitary except for breeding season. Some people complain that they are aggressive towards other birds at their feeders but those in my yard are not that way at all. They share space at feeders and don’t chase anyone else away. When it is mating and nesting time, however, they can become quite territorial and are very protective of their nests. This seasonal “grumpiness” was brought home to me one day along a country road when I witnessed a pair of mockingbirds driving a third bird – rival? Intruder? – away from their roosting spot.

When large flocks of gulls and double-crested cormorants (Phalacrocorax auratus) visited a small local lake because of a shad die-off, I had the chance to watch them for a while. One day, it was interesting to observe how one cormorant wanted to jump up on a floating platform, but another bird didn’t want him/her there. They faced off with open beaks – the bird wanting to get out of the water won.

 

 

It’s always interesting to me to watch birds as they forage for sustenance. When I think of woodpeckers, my thoughts immediately turn to nuts and insects, which I think of as their staple diets. So it was a surprise to me to see this red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) dining at length one day on nice ripe persimmons – a bird with a sweet tooth!

 

 

 

Well, I probably shouldn’t say “sweet tooth” but “sweet tongue”. Woodpeckers don’t have teeth but they have exceptionally long tongues that can be wrapped around their brains inside their skulls when not being used to extract insects and other food morsels from crevices.

Another bird that has a long tongue is the great blue heron (Ardea herodius). One day, I came across this bird on its favorite roosting log obviously trying to dislodge something that had gotten stuck – or perhaps something that tasted foul. I hadn’t really seen the species’ tongue before, so the bird gave me some good views.

  

The effort of shaking its head also led it to protect its eye with the nictating membrane.

Because tufted titmice (Baeolophus bicolor) visit my bird feeders daily to get nuts and, to a lesser extent, seeds, I associate them completely with that type of diet. It was that assumption that made me do a double-take when I spotted a titmouse on a walk with a long spaghetti-like object dangling from its beak. It didn’t seem like a grass stalk so when I lifted my camera to look through the zoom lens, I discovered it had a worm snake (Carphophis amoenus amoenus) in its beak – a finding that really did astound me.

 

As I took photos, the bird finally flew further away and unfortunately dropped the reptile when it came close to a creek. I felt a bit guilty, thinking I might have disturbed its meal but after waiting about 5 minutes, the bird suddenly flew up with the snake back in its beak! It obviously really wanted to hang on to that prize!

 

And now on to part 2 of my 2018 surprises – some more reptiles and amphibians, bugs and mammals!

The gorgeous grebes when aggrieved and grumpy!

During my great-crested grebe (Podiceps cristatus) observations at the Gouwzee in July 2018, it became apparent that they don’t mind swimming about amid groups of Eurasian coots (Fulica atra).

It turned out, however, that the grebes can also be quite aggressive and one morning these birds treated me to a stunning display as they had six years earlier. This time it was not a peaceful event like their mating dance, however, but apparently a territorial dispute. Two pairs were each tending a young one near reeds in a cove on the Gouwzee side of a dike. It appeared that one adult had ventured into space that the other pair considered their own. An epic battle ensued – I wish I’d had the presence of mind to change my camera settings to get better photos, but it was so sudden and exciting that I was just glad to be able to get some shots. The whole dispute only lasted about three minutes but seemed to last much longer!

References I found in the literature online appear to indicate that researchers believe territorial aggression mostly takes place when the grebes are building nests and tending eggs. They mention that it stops once the young are born. This was obviously not the case for the two pairs that I observed; their young appeared to be several weeks past fledging age.

The birds first caught my eye when they faced one another, lying low in the water. This is said to be a common aggressive posture.

Suddenly, they erupted upwards, calling loudly and flapping their wings strongly to intimidate one another. (You can see larger versions of photos by clicking on them.)

  

 

   

 

A couple times, they surged upwards from the water to clash their chests together.

   

One appeared to have dunked his opponent in the water, although this happened so quickly that I didn’t really see how it occurred.

They would take a few second pause, making their mutual displeasure apparent.

This would be followed by another bout of confrontation. At one point, one grebe’s mate and young one swam closer to the action.

Finally, after a couple minutes, one “combatant” was driven off by his opponent.

He was joined by his mate and offspring and peace returned. And I walked away elated at having witnessed the behavioral exhibition, glad that no injuries had been sustained. 😊

 

Gracious and gorgeous grebes nurturing newborns

After birding now for some six or seven years, I’ve come to appreciate all birds since each species can be fascinating to watch. I do have some favorites though that have captured my interest. In 2012, I fell in love with great-crested grebes (Podiceps cristatus), whom I first noticed during a trip to Switzerland. A pair was engaged in their courtship dance, which was simply delightful to see. They circled one another, stretched out their necks, ruffled their feathers and arose on the water facing one another. Their beauty enchanted me, and I felt that I had witnessed something very special.

The rust and black-tinted head plumes and ruff are gorgeous, making these birds very attractive indeed. This led to their being hunted almost to extinction during the 1800s in the United Kingdom because the feathers were desired as decorations or hats. This led to the establishment of the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds in that country and their numbers fortunately rebounded.

Fast forward six years to this past July, and I discovered that these birds are quite common in my land of birth, where I just had not noticed them before. Granted, I was not a birder while living in The Netherlands (I currently live in the USA), but I had managed to take note of house sparrows, mute swans, Eurasian coots and moorhens when walking along canals and ditches. Now, as a much more observant wildlife observer, it was thrilling to see many grebes along the dike bordering the Gouwzee (a body of water bordering Monnickendam that is part of the larger Markermeer nature area). And even better – they were all tending young ones at different stages of development.

The great-crested is Europe’s largest grebe species and the adults are stunning with their reddish-orange head plumes. (They are also found in Australia, New Zealand and African countries.) I discovered that the young look quite different – mostly light in color with black stripes on their heads and pink markings near the eyes.

Their floating nests are often found along reed beds, which were abundant along the dike and a ditch across a road from the dike. A couple mothers had chosen the ditch as their home area and the early morning light made for some nice photos in my opinion as they preened and relaxed.

  

   

The water in the lake on the other side of the dike was less calm but the young ones managed to swim well in the waves; they can already dive shortly after leaving the nest.

Their feet are set back far along their bodies and they cannot walk well. I did not ever see one on land during the week that I was observing them.

According to the literature, pairs tend 1-9 eggs, which hatch after about 27-29 days. The mothers carry newborns on their backs as they swim along, offering a safe perch for sightseeing in safety. The babies fledge after 71-79 days. I did not see any pairs with more than two young, so some were probably lost during the previous weeks.

The grebes eat fish, crustaceans, mollusks, amphibians and insects. Their fishing technique, which was more in evidence in the open water of the Gouwzee, includes skimming the water with outstretched necks and diving underwater. (The neck-to-the-water pose is also used to show aggression but in these cases no other birds were near and they would subsequently dive under to come up with some food.)

The parents demonstrate and the young imitate them, mostly coming up empty-beaked. Occasionally, a parent would fly away and return later with food. The babies eagerly grab the meals offered by both mama and papa.

After breeding, the adults gather together during a molting period, during which they do not fly. Perhaps one day, I’ll be able to watch them in winter and find out new things about them. In the meantime, if you’d like see what happens when they are feeling perturbed, check out my next blog on “The gorgeous grebes when aggrieved and grumpy!”