For the Birds: Veery and wood thrush share the title

Photo by Chris Bosak
A veery stakes out territory in New England, spring 2025.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A wood thrush sings from a branch in New England.

I wrote back in early July that the veery had taken the lead as the Bird of Summer, my very unofficial designation that goes to the bird that I see most frequently, or at least more frequently than usual.

With summer now over, I can officially—or unofficially—name the Bird of Summer. The veery and wood thrush share the distinction. Early in the summer, I saw and heard veeries on every walk. In the middle of summer and into late summer, it was the wood thrush that stood out more. I didn’t always find the often-secretive bird, but I certainly heard the unmistakable flute-like song way more often than I usually do.

It was encouraging to hear the wood thrush so often, as they are one of the many birds that have experienced a sharp population decline in recent decades.

The veery and wood thrush are both thrushes and have a similar appearance. They are not as similar-looking as some thrushes in New England, but each one has the classic thrush look with brown bodies and spotted buffy chests.

The American goldfinch made a late-summer push and was by far the species I saw the most in August and early September. Goldfinches are late nesters in New England and do not even start nesting until many have already fledged multiple broods. Goldfinches time their breeding season with the availability of their preferred food and nest-building material.

Goldfinches came especially close to stealing the title from the thrushes one day in late August when I looked out at my modest garden and saw half a dozen of them perched on the tops of my coneflower picking out seeds. I appreciate seeing birds on my feeders, but it’s an extra thrill when they land on flowers that I planted expressly for them.

I’ll give the American goldfinch an honorable mention, but the thrushes share the crown. Honorable mentions to a lesser degree go to Baltimore oriole, gray catbird and song sparrow, which were also quite reliable sightings this summer for me.

Now for the other end of the spectrum. It was a disappointing summer for me in terms of seeing some of our other colorful songbirds, such as scarlet tanager, rose-breasted grosbeak and indigo bunting. For whatever reason, my sightings of these sought-after birds were few and far between this summer. I’m certainly not suggesting there is a sudden worrisome decline in these birds, but for me anyway, the sightings just didn’t happen like they usually do.

I am a little worried about the lack of butterflies I saw this summer. The meadow at one of the parks I frequent was nearly void of butterflies, whereas it is usually hopping with them. With all the talk of the declining monarch population and the challenges they face, it was distressing to see them in such small numbers this summer.

By now, many of our songbirds have flown south under the cover of darkness. Hawks, ducks, swallows and some other birds migrate by day, but most of the other birds fly by night. Migrating at night offers advantages such as lack of predators, cooler temperatures, constellations in the sky to guide them and less turbulence. It also allows them to rest and feed during the day when it is easier to find food. Unfortunately, migrating at night also includes disadvantages, such as the possibility of crashing into buildings or being disoriented by city lights.

So now we turn our attention to fall birding, which has its own highlights. Hawkwatches continue through October, and the duck migration starts around the middle of October as well. Late-migrating songbirds such as palm warblers and yellow-rumped warblers are also fall birding highlights.

Let me know your summer highlights and what you are looking forward to this fall.

Photo by Chris Bosak
A veery stakes out territory in New England, spring 2025.

More wildlife from out west

Photo by Chris Bosak
Bison in Yellowstone National Park, fall 2026.

Here are a few animals I saw out west that aren’t moose or elk. The U.S. is a beautiful place.

Photo by Chris Bosak
First-year grizzly bear in Grand Teton National Park, fall 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak
Coyote in Grand Teton National Park, fall 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak
Pronghorn in Idaho, fall 2026.

More elk photos than you asked for

Photo by Chris Bosak
Bull elk in Yellowstone National Park, fall 2026.

After three days in Grand Teton, I drove north to Mammoth Campground in Yellowstone. The resident elk herd did not disappoint with the bull bugling and cows and calves making themselves at home among the tents, RVs, picnic tables, and campers. It was definitely worth the trip to Yellowstone.

Photo by Chris Bosak
Bull elk in Yellowstone National Park, fall 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak
Elk in Yellowstone National Park, fall 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak
Calf elk nursing in Yellowstone National Park, fall 2026.
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A ton more moose photos from Grand Teton

Photo by Chris Bosak
Bull moose in Grand Teton National Park, fall 2026.

Today, I’ll share a bunch more moose photos from Grand Teton National Park. Tomorrow (or sometime this week), I’ll share a slew of elk photos from Yellowstone National Park. Finally, I’ll post many, many other photos of the other animals (including birds) I saw on my recent trip out west.

Photo by Chris Bosak
Bull moose in Grand Teton National Park, fall 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak
Cow moose in Grand Teton National Park, fall 2026.
Continue reading →

A few moose photos from Grand Teton

Photo by Chris Bosak – Moose in Grand Teton National Park.

I’ll do a longer post soon, but here are a few moose photos from a recent trip I took to Grand Teton and Yellowstone. Yes, the parks are outside of New England (“extralimital” in birdwatcher speak), but why not share anyway. The moose were in Grand Teton.

Photo by Chris Bosak – Moose in Grand Teton National Park.
Photo by Chris Bosak – Moose in Grand Teton National Park.

For the Birds: Spotted lanternflies coming to your town next?

Photo by Chris Bosak
Author Chris Bosak holds a spotted lanternfly in southern New England, summer 2026.

NOTE: This column was originally written for newspapers in New Hampshire, which has not yet been subjected to an invasion of these insects.

Coming to a town near you? Let’s hope not.

So far, the middle and northern parts of New England have largely been spared of the spotted lanternfly. Let’s hope that continues, but I have a feeling those dastardly insects may work their way up into at least the middle of New England.

My reasoning is as follows:

In the summer and fall of 2023, my son played for the St. Frances Academy high school football team in Baltimore, Maryland. I traveled back and forth from Maryland about a dozen times.

One particular beautiful early fall day in downtown Baltimore, I walked with friends to check out some sites and find a good place to eat. Out of nowhere, something bapped me right in the forehead. What the heck was that? 

The offender lay at my feet. I can’t remember if it was stunned or dead. Either way, it was a spotted lanternfly. If you are not familiar with spotted lanternflies, they are invasive insects native to Asia. They feed on the sap of a wide variety of plants, causing severe agricultural and ecological damage. They are now pervasive in ….

They are not flies, despite their name, and they are not moths, despite their resemblance. Rather, they are a planthopper-type of insect.

The bap to the forehead knocked some awareness into me, and I suddenly realized those things were all over the place. On the sidewalks, on the buildings, on the trees. Everywhere.

Baltimore was infested with them. I didn’t know much about the species at the time, but I recall that I had at least heard of them and knew they were not desirable. I also recalled that the guidance at the time was to swash them on sight.

Squashing them proved to be more difficult than I would have thought. They are surprisingly quick. My stomping foot often came up empty as the insects utilized their spring-loaded back legs to propel themselves and fly or glide to safety.

Fast forward three years, and the spotted lanternfly is now infesting parts of southern New England, namely Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts. I was in southern Connecticut recently and spotted lanternflies were numerous. It didn’t reach the infestation levels I had observed in Baltimore, but even a short walk yielded several sightings. A glance out the window more often than not resulted in at least one sighting.

New Hampshire would be next if the lanternfly maintains its northward movement. In fact, officials in New Hampshire recorded its first sighting last month in Salem. From what I could find and as of this writing, there haven’t been any confirmed sightings in Vermont.

Are the Twin States next? I guess we’ll see in the years to come. Perhaps even next year.

This may be an unpopular opinion, but spotted lanternflies would be pretty cool to have around if they were native and beneficial instead of invasive and destructive. Adult lanternflies are about an inch long (fairly large compared to most insects in New England) with pinkish or gray wings covered in black spots. When in flight, the bright red hindwings (also adorned with black dots) offer a flash of color.

In the life stages leading up to adulthood, lanternflies are black with white spots and then red and black with white spots.

Birds have helped control the invasion somewhat. From what I’ve read, birds such as cardinals, blue jays, catbirds, and woodpeckers have been seen preying upon them. Interestingly, chickens seem to love them. Although spotted lanternflies damage a variety of trees and shrubs, their preferred food source is tree of heaven, another invasive native of Asia. This may make the insects bitter and undesirable to some predators.

Here’s hoping the northward march of the spotted lanternfly stops in southern New England. It will be an interesting story to follow in the years ahead.

If you find a spotted lanternfly, report the sighting at www.nhbugs.org/reporting-form.

For the Birds: Nothing like finding migrating American oystercatchers

Photo by Chris Bosak
American oystercatcher, summer in New England.

A few weeks ago, I previewed the fall hawk watch season and encouraged anyone interested in seeing that spectacle to head to the nearest hawk watch site.

Mid-September is the prime time for hawk watches, so get out there now if you can.

There is a lot more to fall birdwatching than hawk watches, of course. Songbirds are heading south in large numbers too. Presumably, there are many more songbirds passing through New England in the fall than in the spring with all the first-year birds making their initial southward journey.

With all the excitement around hawks and songbirds, it’s easy to forget about the shorebird migration, which can be equally as fun. Shorebirds are an often underrated category of birds and it’s understandable considering most people do not live near the coast. Sure, certain shorebirds may be found along the edges of lakes, ponds and rivers, but they are usually found as individuals or pairs. On the other hand, the coasts of the ocean and Long Island Sound may hold flocks of dozens or even hundreds of shorebirds. 

I visit from time to time a preserve on Long Island Sound in southern New England. American oystercatchers, among other birds, nest there and may be seen in pairs in the spring and summer. If a pair is successful in raising young, then, of course, the family unit will swell to three or four birds.

If a visit is timed right during fall migration, however, a dozen or more oystercatchers may be seen together on the shore poking around for food to fuel their southern migration. 

Such was the case the other day when my friend Wayne and I visited the preserve. We hadn’t had a lot of luck on our previous walks in the woods looking for songbirds, but the trip to the shore more than made up for the previous birdless walks. 

The walk along the shore got off to a slow start as well. We had walked about 15 minutes before we saw our first bird, a semipalmated plover. They are small shorebirds that could easily be mistaken for a killdeer. 

As it turns out, there were three plovers foraging together, not a single bird. That happens often when looking for shorebirds. What starts out as a sighting of one bird quickly turns into several birds as they eventually all come into view as they move among the rocks, shells and sand.

Finally, as we neared the end of the out-and-back walk, we spotted the oystercatchers. It started as a lone bird flying across the scene, uttering its high-pitched, repetitive call. We followed that bird until it landed on the mudflats. Once our eyes were trained on the shallow pool, one of several pools left over from high tide, we saw the rest of the oystercatchers. There were a dozen or more of the flashy, large shorebirds.

American oystercatchers have black heads and chests, brown backs and wings, and white underparts. The interesting parts of the oystercatcher are the eyes and bill. They have yellow eyes with a black middle and noticeable red eyering. The bills are long, sturdy and bright orange. To see a dozen or more together is a magical sight. 

As we walked along the mudflats toward the oystercatchers, I was again reminded how well some shorebirds blend in with their environment. At one point, I got to within about five feet of a least sandpiper before it quickly scurried away from me. If it hadn’t moved, I probably would have walked right past it. Then, of course, five or six more least sandpipers suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

Eventually, I got close enough to photograph the oystercatchers. The first couple photos I got were of banded birds with two coded rings around each leg. The others were not banded. A lone black-bellied plover joined the oystercatchers on the hunt, while a few snowy egrets worked the shoreline a few yards away.

American oystercatchers are one of those birds I never tire of seeing and, no matter how many times I’ve seen them before, it’s always like I’m seeing them for the first time. Loons evoke a similar emotion. To catch them during migration in large numbers is that much better.

Another scene from the shore: Gull with crab

Photo by Chris Bosak
Herring gull with crab, late summer in New England.

Here’s another photo I got during a recent walk along the beach in southern Connecticut (Connecticut Audubon Society Coastal Center at Milford Point), a herring gull with a crab.

Here is my original post with a few other birds.

A few shorebirds from Labor Day Weekend walk

Photo by Chris Bosak
American oystercatcher, summer in New England.

My friend Wayne and I took a walk at a preserve along the coast of southern Connecticut on Labor Day Weekend and found a dozen or more American oystercatchers, three semipalmated plovers, a small flock of least sandpipers, and a black-bellied plover. A few waders (snowy egret, great egret, yellow-crowned night heron) were around too.

Photo by Chris Bosak
Least sandpiper, late summer in New England.
Photo by Chris Bosak – Semipalmated plover, late summer New England.

For the Birds: Hawk watch season upon us

Photo by Chris Bosak
A broad-winged hawk perches in a tree in northern New Hampshire, July 2020.

Last November, I wrote consecutive bird columns based on the results of the Pack Monadnock Hawk Watch. As I wrote the second column, I made a mental note to write another one before the start of the next hawk watching season. Well, here we are.

Instead of reading about what happened already, now you can get out there and see the spectacle for yourself. So here it is, all you need to know about planning a trip to see the thousands of raptors that will pass over southern New Hampshire this fall.

There are other hawk watch sites in New Hampshire, but Pack Monadnock is the most popular, and for good reason. Expert hawk watchers are on site from September 1 through the middle of November to count the hawks, lead talks and answer questions from visitors. Also, it is the place in the state where the most hawks and greatest variety of raptors may be seen heading south. Hawk watches include hawks, eagles, falcons, ospreys and vultures. 

The Pack Monadnock Raptor Observatory, as it is officially called, is located near the top of Pack Monadnock Mountain within Miller State Park off Route 101 in Peterborough. Visitors can drive or hike to the site.

A few hawks have already been counted in August, but the numbers have not started to heat up yet. The most thrilling time at Pack Monadnock, and most other hawk watch sites, is when the broad-winged hawks pass through in staggering numbers. When that happens exactly is both predictable and unpredictable. It will happen sometime in mid-September, that much we know, but weather and wind conditions will determine the exact window. 

Last year, I spoke with Phil and Julie Brown of Hancock about the timing. If anyone will know, it’s them. Phil is the Bird Conservation Director and Land Specialist at the Harris Center for Conservation Education. His wife, Julie, is the Raptor Migration and Program Director of the Hawk Migration Association.

Here are a few paragraphs from one of those columns from last November:

“While the broad-winged hawk migration is truly a spectacle, with as many as 3,000 or more seen on a single day, it is very time-specific. September 14-20 is the sweet spot when nearly all of the broad-wingeds pass through, the Browns said. Phil said many people take the entire week off from work to not miss the right day.

“Mark your calendars for the middle of next September and keep your eyes out for a forecast that calls for light or variable winds from the north (or northeast or northwest), particularly following a cold front.”

Last year, the best two-day window by far at Pack Monadnock was September 14 and 15, when 3,160 and 562 broad-winged hawks, respectively, passed over the mountain. September 19 and 20 were also solid with 458 and 403 broad-winged hawks soaring past.

Mid-September is also the best time to see sharp-shinned hawks, the second-most-counted raptor at Pack Monadnock. Last year, there were two days (September 14 and 19) when more than 100 sharpies flew overhead. 

Last year, September accounted for 7,280 of the 8,581 total raptors counted at Pack Monadnock. While September is obviously the best month to visit, October is still a strong month. The broad-winged hawks, which account for the majority of the birds counted each fall, are mostly gone by the time October rolls around, but there are still good numbers of species such as sharp-shinned hawks, turkey vultures, northern harriers and red-tailed hawks to be seen. American kestrels and merlins, both small falcons, are also passing through in decent numbers in October. 

The hawk watch remains open until mid-November, but the action is fairly slow by then. Red-tailed hawks are still moving through at a decent clip, but most of the other species have stopped completely or slowed to a trickle.

This year I’ve given fair warning. Keep an eye on the forecast in mid-September, head to the mountain and see some hawks. Lots of them.