Wandering a flooded forest

The year 2020 ended up being the wettest year on record since 1944 in the Piedmont region of North Carolina, but the rains didn’t end in December. In fact, the area recorded its second wettest February on record in 2021 and it was noticeable in the amount of flooding we saw.

Whereas Jordan Lake at full pool (normal level of the reservoir) is 216 feet above sea level, the level rose to 230.3 feet on 23 February 2021 – the day that I unknowingly chose to go for a walk in the forest bordering the lake.

 

I didn’t notice the flooding immediately as I first walked through a meadow area to get to my usual walking site. What immediately drew my attention was the amount of canine scat on and alongside paths.

With a lack of human visitors, the foxes, coyotes and other animals obviously felt more comfortable wandering everywhere throughout the reserve.

Lots of flies were buzzing around the remaining dried flower stalks and I spied an early leafhopper – the first time I had seen a lateral-lined sharpshooter (Cuerna costalis).

Setting off into an area where I often saw woodpeckers, I discovered my usual walking trails had disappeared under an expanded lake.

 

A sweet Carolina wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus) hopped into view, apparently wondering why a human being was again being seen in these parts.

 

 

I discovered it was a good idea, too, to watch where I was walking because the remaining forest floor was alive with thin-legged wolf spiders (Pardosa) crawling over the fallen leaves.

 

I wonder if there were so many in this area as they had all fled the rising waters to congregate in the same area. (Certainly a way to meet other spiders!)

Wandering further, I saw that I couldn’t get anywhere close the shoreline that used to be a favorite birding area.

 

The osprey nest, not yet occupied, is normally on a land-bound snag but now it was in the water.

There were still some birds around, but not as many as I was used to seeing. Off in the far distance, a ring-billed gull (Larus delawarensis) was fishing.

Never had I seen this lake’s water so high – many of the areas where I usually walk were completely submerged.

I walked along the new lake edges and noted lots of tufted titmice (Baeolophus bicolor) exploring the waterlogged fallen logs.

 

 

The Eastern bluebirds (Sialia sialis) were also flying down from tree trunks and branches to see what was near the water.

On the branches above, a a yellow-rumped warbler (Setophaga coronata) stopped by and a pine warbler (Setophaga pinus) showed off his beautiful yellow plumage.

   

To my delight, a pair of brown creepers (Certhia americana) were ascending the water-bound trees searching for meals.

     

I find these birds beautiful and admire how well they blend in with their hunting grounds.

For me, the brown creepers have some of the best camouflage abilities around.

Overhead a red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) flew by surveying the expanded water boundaries and I detected a Chinese mantis egg case swaying atop a shrub.

Because my walking area had been greatly reduced, I decided to leave after gazing into one more area where I usually wandered. To my surprise, I saw a wood duck (Aix sponsa, right) and a pied-billed grebe (Podilymbus podiceps) swimming over what is usually a leaf- and vegetative-laden forest floor. Perhaps they enjoyed visiting a new, albeit temporary, swimming area.

I do think that some wildlife may have suffered. This polyphemous moth cocoon (Antheraea polyphemus), which I had photographed in another part of the forest bordering the lake, was eventually submerged for some days under about four feet of water. When the area again reappeared, I found the cocoon and it was still intact but only about half its original size, so I think the moth was doomed. Now that the lake levels have fallen further, it will be interesting to see how the forest is recovering after having been submerged.

 

Wrestling with your food – not for me!

Our 2021 winter weather in central North Carolina has been one of the wettest on record so far and is set to top the list by the end of the month. But occasionally we have had some sunny, albeit cold, days to everyone’s delight. On one recent walk on an unusually sunny day, I saw a beautiful little syrphid fly flitting about the forest floor and caught a fleeting glimpse of an Eastern rabbit, but that has been it for non-avian species except for the deer, squirrels and chipmunks in my yard. So my focus has continued to be on the more bountiful birds.

On successive visits to a pond in a neighboring town, mostly to watch the hooded mergansers, it was noteworthy to see that a single ring-billed gull (Larus delawarensis) had taken up residence. S/he spent a lot of time atop one of the parking lot streetlights at the pond’s edge. It gave a perch for a good overview of the water and its residents.

The bird is usually alone when I see him/her. They are sociable birds, however, and it’s interesting that, in some cases, two females will share nests and raise their two broods together.

 

I’d seen her/him catch fish there before and noted that the bird never just alighted, positioned the fish and swallowed it quickly. Perhaps this is because it has a broad diet and has learned to eat its varied foods differently.

Not only do they devour fish, insects, earthworms, rodents and grain; they also will scavenge people’s food if they can get to it, for example, on a beach or in a fast-food parking lot.

This yellow-legged gull will fly around the pond from time to time, looking quite beautiful in flight.

  

S/he doesn’t go fast, although they can reach speeds of up to 40 mph. Rather this bird soars quietly in circles scanning both the water and its surroundings.

Recently, I watched this gull catch a fish and then take a long time to actually eat it. First, the bird spent some time positioning the fish just right in its beak.

Then it began dunking the fish underwater and slapping it on the water as well.

Was it trying to kill the fish before consuming it?

After doing this for a while, the gull suddenly picked up the fish, flew up into the air and dropped it in the water.

Next, it turned tail and dove head-first into the pond, likely hitting, stunning and perhaps drowning the fish with this maneuver.

A Cornell University website says that adult ring-bills “play” by dropping objects and then catching them mid-air, perhaps as a way to practice their hunting technique. But in this case, that didn’t seem to be the case.

The gull still didn’t eat the prey right away, however.

S/he kept hitting the fish and moving the aquatic meal around in its mouth.

A couple times it looked like the fish was positioned just right for swallowing.

And then, the re-positioning continued.

Finally, after some time, it looked like the bird had finally ingested the meal and s/he took off again.

It was an interesting observation of animal behavior – my favorite way of spending time on nature walks. And it will likely remain a bit of a mystery as to what the ring-bill gull’s intentions were in carrying out these moves. 😊

A third look at our 2020-21 “superflight” irruption – red crossbills

As mentioned in my last couple blogs, finches that usually reside in Canada and the northern USA have come south this year because of a dearth of food in their usual habitats. One of the factors contributing to the shortage is the varying cycles in which cones, seeds and fruit ripen among different tree species.

Not every tree produces an equal amount of seeds or berries every year; for example, this year my red cedars didn’t have very many juniper berries and by the time the cedar waxwings arrived, the American robins (Turdus migratorius) had already cleaned out the crop. Periodically, many of the different tree species up North have low seed production at the same time, so that birds who eat different kinds of crops all need to go elsewhere for sustenance in the winter.

An interesting speculation from scientists in the Finch Research Network is that this synchronized low seed production evolved as a means of limiting food supplies for seed-eating (red) squirrels who could reproduce greatly and then wipe out all the seeds so that no new trees would grow. Jamie Cornelius, a researcher at Oregon State University, explained that “birds are mobile, and can find cone crops somewhere else,” while the sedentary squirrels then need to curtail their reproduction. In addition, some birds have evolved biological processes that make it easier for them to cope with food scarcity.

Red crossbills (Loxia curvirostra, called common crossbills in Europe) molt quite slowly, losing only a few feathers at one time, which makes it possible for them to fly elsewhere at any time in search of sustenance. They are normally not migratory but will travel for food, so in December 2020, local birders were quite excited when red crossbills were spotted at a state game lands in a neighboring county.

I was not enthusiastic about going to a hunting zone but had heard that the duck hunters were usually only busy early in the morning. So I donned my bright orange vest and ventured out on the two-mile walk to the spot where the crossbills had been seen. I waited around for a couple hours but they didn’t show, although I was looking for the reddish males and yellow females to make an appearance.

I didn’t give up. On my fourth visit to the game lands, I finally saw the crossbills (although I didn’t realize it immediately as they were so far away and my cataracts make seeing anything distinctly at a distance quite difficult. It was only after I enlarged one photo on the camera that I saw what they were! Remember, you can see a photo larger if you click on it and then back arrow to the blog).

I first thought perhaps some grosbeaks had flown in, so I focused as well as I could on the distant trees and took photos. I was thrilled to see that I had finally photographed those elusive birds – giving me a “lifer” for 2021. 😊

Sometimes it’s not easy to understand why a certain bird species has a particular common name. For example, many people would call a red-bellied woodpecker a red-headed woodpecker because the red on the head is much more noticeable than the hue on its belly. But the crossbills exemplify their common name quite accurately with their upper bills that curve down over their lower bills. A good view of their beak can be seen at the All About Birds website.

At first sight, one might think that this beak arrangement would make it difficult for them to eat, but this morphological adaptation means that they can extract seeds from conifer cones that are still closed, which other finches cannot do. Their bill structure makes it possible for them to hold onto a cone, pry it open with their beak and then take out the tightly-packed conifer seeds with their tongue.

This specialized anatomical feature does restrict the crossbills’ diet somewhat. They do eat some other seeds, berries and insects from time to time and they also ingest grit and sand from time to time as having these substances in their crop helps them to digest the conifer seeds.

What also makes these finches very unusual is that there are at least six – and perhaps as many as 11 – sub-species in North America who differ in the size and shape of their beaks and the type of calls they make. Their unique vocalizations has led to each sub-group being designated as a “call type” and each type feeds on a different conifer species. They move about in groups and call to each other while flying from tree to tree. Some scientists think they may be communicating about the feeding possibilities in each cone-laden tree they pass!

Another behavior that is distinctive for the red crossbills is that they breed at any time of the year, whenever sufficient food supplies are available. When a female and male form a breeding pair, they imitate one another’s flight calls so as to keep track of one another.

 

Unfortunately, unlike other irruption species such as evening grosbeaks and pine siskins, the red crossbills are rare visitors to bird feeders.

When I heard that crossbills had been seen at a game lands area much closer to my home, I made a couple more treks in hopes of spotting them. The first day I was incredibly lucky as I was the only person visiting the reserve and could walk at a leisurely pace in quiet fields except for the chittering of multiple bird species, including a hermit thrush.

Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to see any crossbills flying overhead. Another visit to this nearby game land was shortened considerably when I discovered it was quite noisy with two hunters accompanied by a pack of baying hounds who were yowling very loudly and frequently. I high-tailed it out of the reserve and resolved to be happy with my one and only crossbill sighting (so far). Hopefully, one day I’ll be able to see them more closely – something to which I can look forward with great anticipation!

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.

Flying shades of bronze, brown and copper

While the hummingbirds “clothed” in vibrant green and blue hues in Costa Rica are really wonderful (previous blog), I found out that I’m really attracted to some hummers with more subdued hues as well. The photo above is probably my favorite hummingbird photo of my 2019 trip — that long-billed hermit (Phaethornis longirostris) was simply gorgeous!

Before showing you some other shots of this stunner, let’s look at some other hummers with hues of bronze and copper. The rufous-tailed hummingbird (Amazilia tzacatl) is a smaller bird but a pleasure to see as it flits from bloom to bloom.

These medium-sized hummers defend their nectaring territories vigorously, which may lead to some ruffled feathers. Scratching an itch can also lead to the same condition.

The bronzy hermit (Glaucis aeneus) has a long, curved bill which is useful for the types of flowers where it seeks nectar. It is known to be a fast flyer and is said to only stay a few seconds at each feeding site, so I feel lucky to have gotten a photo of it!

When I saw the black-bellied hummingbird (Eupherusa nigriventris), I immediately fell in love.To me, it looked like this male had had a crew cut and then covered himself with black velvet.

The females of the species do not have black bellies but are also pretty.

Another species that really caught my fancy was the brown violetear (Colibri delphinae). They are very muted in color, which is what makes the color patches really stand out.

The blue-green throat feathers shine. And the violet stripe behind the eye is certainly eye-catching!

It must be the real contrast between the overall subdued coloration and the vivid color patches that attracts me. As other birders moved on, I stayed behind to watch them for a while.

I would enjoy seeing this hummer in person again!

I will leave you with a couple more photos of the wonderful long-billed hermit. The lengthy curved beak and long tail feathers make for a very attractive presence.

And this elegant hummingbird also has a distinctive mating behavior. Up to 25 males will gather in a lek (a communal area where courtship displays are done) and begin wiggling their tail feathers. They then compete to sing a song that will induce a female to choose them as the sire for their young!

Seeing a courtship contest among the long-billed hermits must really be a wonderful experience. But I’m just glad I got to see this species at all and hope perhaps to do so in person one more time!

Next blog: one more view of hummers — this time in North Carolina.