For the Birds: Rain or not, birds have to eat

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Photo by Chris Bosak
A soggy blue jay visits a feeder during a heavy rain in New England.

A major storm blew through New England the evening of the Fourth of July, but it was the weather event that happened two days later that caught my attention.

It was a work-from-home day, so I had a front-row seat to the feeders all day. I thought it was going to be a slow day as it rained heavily all day. And the action was slow, at first.

After a few hours of relentless teeming rain, the birds started coming again. Not surprisingly, the first birds to show up in the rain were cardinals. They are usually the first to show up in the morning and the last ones left as darkness settles in, so it was only fitting that they would appear first on this wet, soggy day.

The blue jays appeared not long after. Then the catbirds, then the chickadees and titmice. At this point, all of the birds appeared at the feeder looking like drowned rats. Remember, this wasn’t a gentle shower where the water would bead up nicely on the birds’ oily feathers and eventually roll away. This was a driving rain that soaked right through the layers of feathers.

So why were the birds out during this rain? Why not remain hunkered down until the rain passed? 

The answer, of course, is that they were hungry. Birds have a high metabolism and need to eat a lot to get through the hours and days. It is estimated that small songbirds eat between 25 and 35 percent of their body weight each day. The rain had been steady for hours and wasn’t going to let up anytime soon. 

Birds face many risk-reward dilemmas in their lifetimes. Migrate and face the inherent dangers of traveling great distances, or remain up north and risk freezing during the winter? Fight, flight, or hide when a predator is near?

In this case, the possibility of starving finally outweighed the potential pitfalls of venturing out in a heavy rain. Other than their ragged appearance, the birds did not appear stressed. It was business as usual.

I had taken down my covered feeder a while ago, so I had to venture out into that mess a few times to make sure there was enough dry seed available. I also included some mealworms and nuggets, as those would be good eating regardless. I was drenched as soon as I stepped off the porch each time I went out, but I figured the birds had it a lot tougher than I did, so I ventured out without hesitation. 

Besides, I’ve always rather enjoyed the occasional walk in the rain. I could always dry off and change clothes if need be. Birds don’t have that option.

The risk becomes greater for birds when it’s pouring and the temperatures are colder. When water can penetrate their oily outer feathers in cold temperatures, the possibility of hypothermia complicates the risk-reward scenario. 

The passing thunderstorms may have been more dramatic, but the steady downpour a few days later yielded the more interesting bird study. 

For the Birds: Veery takes lead in Bird of the Summer race

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Photo by Chris Bosak
A veery at Huntington State Park in Redding, CT, May 2026.

It’s still too early to declare my Bird of the Summer, but one bird has become the clear favorite.

Of course, catbirds and robins are always common sightings in the summer, and I have certainly seen many of those on my recent walks. But ever since early May, my walks seem to be dominated by veeries.

Veeries are thrushes and indeed closely resemble the more common hermit thrush and wood thrush. There are some obvious differences, however, as veeries are a warmer reddish-brown overall with fewer and lighter spots on their chests.

Some of the other thrushes that occur in New England are not as easy to differentiate from hermit thrushes, such as gray-cheeked thrush, Swainson’s thrush, and Bicknell’s thrush.

American robins and eastern bluebirds are also part of the thrush family but are not often thought of as thrushes, as they don’t look like the other thrushes. In fact the ovenbird, a small warbler, more closely resembles the thrush family than they do. Young robins and bluebirds, when they still have spotted chests, look more like typical thrushes than grown robins and bluebirds.

The veery has a very distinctive song. To me, it sounds like the old Space Invaders game from the 1980s. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology describes it as such: “A series of variations on ‘veer,’ the song descends slightly in pitch, and resonates as if swirling around inside a metal pipe.”

Whatever works for you, I guess.

Veeries also have call notes that are not as distinctive. I’ve heard it enough this spring and summer, however, that I can pick out their call notes among the cacophony of other nature sounds.

With all that said, let’s take a look at what else is going on throughout the region. 

Norma from Spofford, who is 90 years young, wrote that she saw a scarlet tanager sitting among her flowering quince bush the other week. The brilliantly colored bird gave Norma a good look for several minutes before flying off in the woods. Norma was thrilled by the sighting, as she says she has seen fewer than a dozen in all her years. The magic of New England’s birds.

Greg from Tilton wrote that he saw a red-bellied woodpecker at his feeder for the first time. Red-bellied woodpeckers continue to expand their range northward.

Victoria from Swanzey wrote in with an interesting report on her spring birdwatching. She had written in previously to let me know that she turns on Merlin (bird song and call recognition app), sets it on a rock, and “goes about her morning chores in the barnyard.” Her farm property is about 15 acres with varied habitat. She keeps track of the birds Merlin identifies on a spreadsheet. Knowing that Merlin is not 100 percent accurate, she only records birds that come up multiple times on the app.

In May alone, Merlin identified 116 different bird species. That, of course, does not include the birds that did not sing or call. The impressive list includes 26 types of warblers. “Until the Merlin app, I had not realized that the flashy ones — scarlet tanager, Baltimore oriole, indigo bunting — also make their nests here,” she wrote.

Gene from Plymouth regularly hosted at his feeder a downy woodpecker with an annoying habit of using its bill to flick away unwanted seeds to get the peanuts among the mixture, resulting in a boon for the squirrels below. The woodpecker could apparently see through the clear feeder to see where the peanuts were. Gene covered up the transparent parts of the feeder, and now the woodpecker appears to be much less picky.

I hope everyone survived the heat wave OK. Let me know if you observed any interesting bird or nature adaptations during those scorching days.

For the Birds: Male birds get defensive in the summer

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Photo by Chris Bosak
A rose-breasted grosbeak perches in a bush at Huntington State Park in Redding, Connecticut, summer 2026.

One of the main reasons why male birds are often more colorful than females was on full display during a recent bird walk.

As I noted in a recent column, summer is an ideal time for birdwatching and observing parent birds raising their young. Finding a nest is always exciting, but it isn’t necessary to confirm that birds are busy caring for youngsters nearby.

Father birds were particularly on edge during my recent walk. I got about halfway down the path when a male rose-breasted grosbeak darted across the trail in front of my face and landed in a nearby shrub. It was clearly agitated by my presence as it fluffed its feathers and chirped an alarm call.

I didn’t want to linger and fluster the bird even more, so I kept on my way.

Maybe 30 yards farther down the trail, a male American redstart did the same thing. It didn’t fly across the trail like the grosbeak, but it flew out of the woods and landed in a shrub on the edge of the trail. It also seemed agitated, so again, I kept on walking.

The obvious deduction is that the birds had nests with youngsters nearby, and my presence stirred their protective instincts. I can’t blame the birds. There are so many threats out there that they need to be on high alert at all times during the breeding season.

The other day, I saw an eastern kingbird aggressively chasing away a crow that was likely eyeing young kingbirds in a nest. Crows are notorious raiders of nests, but those ranks also include hawks, owls, and blue jays, as well as raccoons, squirrels, cats, and snakes. It’s a tough world for birds out there.

Fortunately, the majority of bird species in New England have males who actively participate in raising their young. Typically, the female stays on the nest while the male brings back food and watches for predators, but they reverse the roles at times as well.

That’s why in species that are sexually dimorphic (males and females look different), the male is almost always the more colorful and flashy one. In New England, this dimorphism is most notable in species such as cardinals, tanagers, grosbeaks, buntings, and many duck species. Other birds have more subtle differences and some have no differences at all. 

The brighter colors in males also play a role in attracting a mate and claiming (and protecting) territory. 

Males of species that have multiple broods each year, such as robins and bluebirds, are particularly busy. Males will continue to feed youngsters even after they have left the nest, while the female sits on new eggs. Of course, the males continue to protect the area as well.

Summer can be an exciting time for birdwatchers. For the birds themselves, it’s just another challenging time of year in their fight for survival.

Stunning owl drawing

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I met a talented young artist/illustrator recently, and, of course, this owl drawing stood out to me when he showed me some of his portfolio. He gave his blessing when I asked if I could post it on my website/blog.

Check out more of his work …

Aiden Bae

https://bashybae.my.canva.site/

https://www.instagram.com/bashybae?igsh=NHZzdzluOTU0YTcw

For the Birds: What’s up with the bald cardinal?

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Photo by Chris Bosak A Northern Cardinal drinks from a bird bath in New England, fall 2015.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A Northern Cardinal drinks from a bird bath in New England.

Here’s the latest. Let me know if you have any questions. Thanks, Chris

…

Photo by Chris Bosak

A molting male cardinal appears bald as it visits a feeder in New England.

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I’ve seen it dozens of times, but it’s always initially startling when I see a molting cardinal with a bald head.

My home office looks over the side yard where my birdfeeders are located. (No surprise there, I’m sure.) There are tall bushes on either side of the feeders, and most birds perch in one of those before venturing over to the feeders. 

Lately, the action has been predictably a bit slower as the birds are busy raising young. Throughout the day, however, the usual assortment of chickadees, titmice, nuthatches, song sparrows, blue jays, mourning doves, downy woodpeckers and cardinals pay visits. So far this summer, as a pleasant surprise, gray catbirds are my most common visitors as they come to eat mealworms and suet. They are also frequent visitors to the birdbath located a few dozen yards away. I never pinpointed it, but I know the catbirds have a nest in one of the nearby bushes.

The other day, a bright red streak flashed across the window and landed in the bush on the left. I knew it was a male cardinal, of course, but I wasn’t prepared for its appearance when it darted to the feeder perch. Like many I’ve seen before, this guy was bald as can be, his black exposed head giving him an ungainly appearance compared to how we are accustomed to seeing cardinals. It would look unappealing on any bird, but it looks even more out of place on a cardinal.

Like many birds, cardinals molt in the summer. They typically molt after the breeding season in August or September, so mid-June seemed early to see a bald cardinal. Some birds molt gradually and replace old feathers gradually over time. Cardinals, however, shed all of their head feathers at at about the same time, giving them an appearance only a mother could love. Not that the cardinals care one way or another what humans think of their appearance.

No need to fear, though. The new feathers start to grow almost immediately, and, within a few weeks, the cardinal is back to its resplendent self. 

Some cardinals lose their feathers due to mites instead of a molt, but it’s much less common. 

Summer is a time when many birds do not look like they do in field guides. Molting can change the appearance of adult birds. A bald cardinal is a stark example. Male wood ducks are another as they replace their brilliant breeding plumage with dull feathers. They are not often seen during this time as they lay low in the vegetation around swamps. They don’t hide because they are embarrassed by their drab appearance, of course, but rather because they cannot fly for a period of time during their molt and are in big trouble if a predator finds them.

Young birds look different from their parents for much of the summer as well. Sticking with cardinals, young birds (even males) look like female cardinals but have dark bills instead of the vibrant bills of adult female cardinals. I saw a young catbird the other day, and it already closely resembled an adult but had a more scruffy and thin appearance.

Birds, of course, are welcome sightings regardless of how they look on any particular day. A bald male cardinal or scraggly-looking catbird can visit my yard any day. 

Just a few bobolinks

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Photo by Chris Bosak
A male bobolink perches in a field in Brookfield, Connecticut, summer 2026.

Just a few bobolinks I met the other day on a walk.

Photo by Chris Bosak
A female bobolink perches in a field in Brookfield, Connecticut, summer 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A bobolink perches in a field in Brookfield, Connecticut, summer 2026.

A few rose-breasted grosbeaks

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Photo by Chris Bosak
A rose-breasted grosbeak perches in a bush at Huntington State Park in Redding, Connecticut, summer 2026.

Here are a few male rose-breasted grosbeaks I met on a recent walk.

Photo by Chris Bosak
A rose-breasted grosbeak perches in a bush at Huntington State Park in Redding, Connecticut, summer 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A rose-breasted grosbeak perches in a bush at Huntington State Park in Redding, Connecticut, summer 2026.

For the Birds: Yellow warbler no more; warbling vireo no more

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Photo by Chris Bosak
A warbling vireo sings from a perch in New England.

Last year I wrote about finding a house wren and not being able to find it on the eBird list only to discover that the name of the bird had been officially changed to northern house wren.

Well, this year, there were two more similar name changes. First, the yellow warbler is now the northern yellow warbler. I think most people will continue to call it yellow warbler for years to come, but the familiar, loquacious yellow bird that nests throughout New England is, indeed, now the northern yellow warbler. 

The reason for the change is to differentiate the migratory yellow warbler (the one we see in New England in spring and summer) from the non-migratory yellow warbler that is a year-round resident of the Caribbean, parts of Central and South America, and extreme southern Texas and Florida. That bird is now called the mangrove yellow warbler.

It seems to me they could have just added mangrove to the non-migratory bird’s name and left the more common yellow warbler’s name alone. But they did what they did, and we all have to get used to it.

By the way, “they” refers to the American Ornithological Society and other ornithologists and taxonomists. The name change has little to no impact on the casual birder. It has some significance for those who study birds for a living and those who keep fastidious life lists.

I discovered the other name change by accident. By now, most people are familiar with birding app Merlin. That’s the one that can, among many other things, identify nearby birds by their songs or calls. The “home page” of the app has a feature that randomly selects a local bird as your Bird of the Day. When you use the app and that bird is heard, it puts a little “Your Bird of the Day” message next to the entry.

Always one to welcome a new challenge, however inconsequential, I began a quest to find my Bird of the Day whenever I took a birdwalk. I don’t exactly knock myself out looking for the bird, but I get a small measure of satisfaction whenever the Bird of the Day message shows up on my list. 

One day in mid-May, warbling vireo came up as my Bird of the Day. This will be easy, I thought. By mid-May, warbling vireos are seemingly everywhere and easy to spot and even easier to hear. Sure enough, shortly into my walk that day, I heard a warbling vireo. I glanced down at the phone to discover there wasn’t a Bird of the Day message next to the warbling vireo that showed up on the list. 

I was confused for a few moments before realizing that Merlin identified the bird as an eastern warbler vireo, not simply warbling vireo even though “warbling vireo” was indeed my Bird of the Day. Apparently, they updated the name on the species-heard list but not as a Bird of the Day. If finding the Bird of the Day was a lucrative pursuit, I would have protested about getting cheated out of my bird that day. But it’s not, so I hardly gave it another thought — until now, that is.

So, yes, the bird New Englanders have been calling warbling vireo for so long is suddenly the eastern warbling vireo. Similar to the house wren and yellow warbler, the name change resulted from a split of a bird that formerly was considered the same species. The eastern warbling vireo breeds in the eastern and central parts of the U.S., while the western warbling vireo breeds out west. There is very little crossover range for the species. 

In the grand scheme of things, not much has changed. People will continue to call the northern house wren a house wren, the northern yellow warbler a yellow warbler and an eastern warbling vireo a warbling vireo. But, in case you ever come across a birder in the woods who is a stickler for names, now you know the new official names.

For the Birds: Summer is for birding

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Photo by Chris Bosak
Yellow warbler at Huntington State Park, Redding, CT. Yellow warblers are common summer sightings throughout New England.

Summer gets a bad rap for birdwatching.

Sure, it’s not as exciting as the spring migration when every day is a new discovery and a whirlwind of birding activity, but the summer has its own rewards. The most exciting part of summer birdwatching, of course, is discovering nesting activity and watching young birds grow. There’s much more to summer birdwatching, however.

First, let’s acknowledge some of the challenges to birdwatching in the summer. Finding a bird in the woods becomes extremely difficult as the leaves are out in full force. You can drive yourself batty trying to find an eastern wood pewee high atop a leafed-out maple or oak.

Birds are also much less vocal in the summer than they are in the spring. Very often in birdwatching, birds are heard before they are seen. You hear a bird, look in that direction, and you find the bird. It’s not always that easy, for sure, but you get the idea. In the summer, birds don’t always give us that verbal cue, making it much more difficult to spot them. Birds don’t want to be seen in the summer, as they are on nests or raising young. The last thing they want is to be discovered, so they remain hidden and silent.

Finally, birdwatching hours in the summer are not conducive to late sleepers or those who turn in early. The long days mean that the sun rises early and sets late. True of all seasons, the best time to watch birds in the summer is early morning or evening. By 9 a.m., the sun is already high and harsh in the sky, and the temperature is rising. You can still find birds in the afternoon, but even the birds seek out shade when it’s too hot.

Now on to the good stuff.

It’s always a thrill to see birds carrying nesting material or food for young in their bills. One of my favorite photos I took is a gray catbird with a bill full of insects. It paused on a perch just long enough before heading to its nest. The bird had five or six insects, all of a different variety, in its bill.

If you are lucky enough to find a nest, it is fun to watch the progress from eggs to babies to fledglings. This should be done in a cautious manner, of course. I wrote earlier this year about watching a pair of northern flickers hollow out a nest in a dead tree in my yard. You can’t see inside a woodpecker nest, but I know they are still there and likely have eggs now. Once they hatch, the baby birds will call constantly for food. It’s fun to watch the dutiful parents make several trips back and forth to the nest.

Summer is the best time to see waders in New England. Waders are tall, skinny birds found around the water, such as herons and egrets. While some great blue herons are year-round New England residents, most arrive in the spring and leave in the fall. That leaves summer as the best time to spot them. Since they are around water, they don’t have the cover of leaves to hide them.

Similarly, ospreys are a summer treat to see, especially around coastal areas, but also around large inland lakes and rivers. Ospreys were rare sightings in New England a few decades ago, but their population has increased dramatically to the point they are common sightings in the summer. Connecticut and Massachusetts, for example, each have more than 1,000 osprey nests. New Hampshire is estimated to have about 150 nests.

Another nice thing about birdwatching in the summer is that it can be done anywhere and combined with other outdoor activities. Going to the beach? Keep an eye out for shorebirds, terns and ospreys. Taking a hike? Look for woodland birds. Neighbor having a barbeque? Look for blue jays, nuthatches, catbirds, goldfinches, wrens and other backyard birds.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention hummingbirds. For some people, a highlight of summer is watching hummingbirds visit their feeders, potted flowers or flower gardens.

And, if the birding gets really slow in August, that’s a great time to look for butterflies, dragonflies and other creatures in fields and meadows.

Summer is often paired with words such as doldrums, dog days, dragging or sweltering. For birdwatchers, it’s just a different season with new opportunities.

For the Birds: Wrapping up the warbler season

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Photo by Chris Bosak – A northern parula sings from the top of a shrub in New England this spring.

Now that the spring migration is over, at least for the most part, it’s time to turn our attention to summer birdwatching.

Before we do that, I want to recap my spring birdwatching highlights. Spring highlights often begin and end with warblers, and this spring was no exception, although some non-warblers are certainly worthy of inclusion here.

It was another good spring for warblers. I’ll get into some of the less common ones later in the column, but the warblers that are often seen in New England did not disappoint. Yellow warblers were, and continue to be, seemingly around every corner. Their ubiquitous song is inescapable. (Not that I’d want to escape it in the first place.)

Other common warblers seen on nearly every walk this spring include common yellowthroats, black-and-white warblers, blue-winged warblers, palm warblers, ovenbirds, American redstarts, yellow-rumped warblers and pine warblers. 

While the warbler action was pretty consistent, it was a slow spring for some of the other colorful birds we look forward to seeing after every long winter. The only scarlet tanager I’ve seen so far was a female that I saw briefly in the canopy weeks ago. I did, however, receive emails from both Pat from Sandwich and Greg from Tilton with photos attached of male scarlet tanagers at their feeders. Scarlet tanagers are not considered common feeder birds, but they will occasionally visit for suet or mealworms.

Thankfully, tanagers nest throughout New England so my window is far from closed.

It’s also been rather slow for rose-breasted grosbeak and indigo bunting sightings. By this time of the year, I’ve usually seen dozens of grosbeaks and at least a few buntings. So far, I’ve seen only a few grosbeaks and not a single bunting. Indigo bunting did come up on my Merlin app a few times, but I was never able to spot it.

Baltimore orioles, on the other hand, have been plentiful this spring on my walks. The other day, I spotted a bird near the top of a dead tree. Even at about 100 yards, I could see the bright orange plain as day. A peer through my binoculars confirmed that it was an oriole.

Warbling vireos, which were pervasive on my walks last spring, were somewhat more scarce for me this spring, but still plentiful. Red-eyed vireos were plentiful as well. Of course, catbirds and eastern towhees were constant companions too.

Less common warblers are always a thrill to see and a highlight of spring birdwatching. This year, my top warblers included hooded warblers, northern parulas, magnolia warblers, black-throated blue warblers, chestnut-sided warblers, and a Wilson’s warbler. Hopefully, I’ll make it to northern New Hampshire a few times this summer and find a few more warblers to add to the list. 

Overall, it was a good spring for spotting migrants. Now it’s on to summer birding. Next week, we’ll look at some of the things to look for in the bird world during the summer.