Photo by Chris Bosak An American goldfinch perches on a coneflower head.
At a certain point, my shared driveway splits in two. My neighbor is off to the right. I’m on the left. A row of about 10 eastern hemlocks separates the driveways.
The other day as I drove down the driveway before it splits, I noticed hundreds of little hemlock cones under the trees. Maybe thousands. It instantly brought me back to one of my favorite winter birding moments.
I was still relatively new to birdwatching when I took a long walk in Pisgah State Park. The park has several entrance points. The one I used on this day was my favorite entrance. The trail from the parking lot leads down a long hill. Once at the bottom of the hill, it’s like the rest of the world is a million miles away. No houses, cars or anything. Just woods and other interesting habitats to explore and enjoy.
Photo by Chris Bosak
An eastern bluebird perches on a branch in New England, Jan. 2022.
My foot was finally feeling a little better so I figured I’d try a short bird walk. Turns out, it wasn’t ready for prime time. I walked a few hundred yards on the uneven snowy terrain and had to turn back.
The little I did manage to walk was along a wood’s edge with good, thick brush forming a barrier, perfect for birds to hide in. A lone white-throated sparrow and a lone tree sparrow were the only birds I saw, however. There was also a male cardinal, but he never left his protected spot among the bramble and I could spy only specks of red.
On my way back, I noticed a white-breasted nuthatch and a woodpecker in a big tree beyond the truck. I figured it was worth a closer look because I had seen a yellow-bellied sapsucker in that very tree some time ago. It turned out to be a downy woodpecker, and it had flown off to a more distant tree by the time I hobbled over there anyway.
Not all was lost, though, as the detour led me to a small flock of eastern bluebirds. Some were perched in the low branches of a nearby tree, and some were in the brush picking at berries of some sort.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A northern mockingbird perches on a branch following a snowfall in New England, January 2022.
Single-digit temperatures and heavy snow always make me think of the birds that tough out New England winters.
There are many birds that, instead of taking a risky migration journey, opt to stay here and take their chances with the cold. We see these birds at our feeders and in our woods every day. Whether a bird migrates or stays put, there are inherent risks and rewards.
Birds that migrate face an arduous journey fraught with obstacles, including but certainly not limited to tall buildings, wind turbines, cell towers, dangerous weather, exhaustion and destruction of their wintering grounds. Once they get to their destination, however, they are rewarded with abundant food and warm temperatures. Of course, they have to make the trip all over again in the spring.
Photo by Chris Bosak Red-breasted mergansers may be seen throughout winter on the ocean or Long Island Sound.
There are always two ways to look at something.
I don’t remember what it was advertising, but I recall an old television commercial wherein one guy says: “Camping? I hate camping. There’s nobody around.”
The next guy on camera, within the same friend group of the first guy but unaware of what he said, says: “Camping? I love camping. There’s nobody around.”
I guess it all depends on your personal preferences and motives.
Photo by Chris Bosak
Ring-billed gulls at a beach in New England.
Gulls? Who would want to write a column about gulls? Or, perhaps more importantly, who would want to read a column about gulls?
Well, I think gulls deserve a little ink considering how easy they are to find and how many of them there are. Nary a visit to any body of water goes by when you don’t see gulls, whether you want to or not. Not many parking lot visits go gull-less either.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A bobcat rests in a field in New England, March 2021. (Huntington State Park)
It’s time for my favorite column of the year; a look back at my top 10 birding highlights from the previous year.
For all its faults, 2021 was a pretty good year for birdwatching. One thing that is not on this list for the first time in nearly 20 years is the Christmas Bird Count. I look forward to the all-day event for months leading up to it, but I had to bail on my birding partner Frank this year. An as-of-yet undiagnosed foot ailment that comes and goes was acting up, so I had to sit out this year’s CBC. Bummer.
But the year did include several highlights. Here are the top 10:
10. Crossbills. A sizable flock of red crossbills entertained New England birdwatchers at a Connecticut beach in March. They flew from spruce to spruce and the birder paparazzi followed their every move. Crossbills are unique in that their upper and lower bills cross rather than meet uniformly. The adaptation helps them get at seeds in spruce cones. Read story here.
9. Loons. If I see loons in any given year, it will make this list. I was camping with Katie at Woodford State Park in Vermont and I was hopeful but not optimistic that we’d see loons. Sure enough, despite the campground being fully booked, a pair of loons swam at the far end of the lake.
8. Feeder birds. My new home is not the birding paradise that my old place in the woods was, but a fair number of birds visit. I get most of the usual suspects, but the highlight was a small number of red-breasted nuthatches that came regularly last winter. Read story here.
7. Fall warblers. Birding in the fall can be tricky with the songbirds passing through in their non-breeding plumage. Warblers can be particularly tricky. But this fall, I had a few walks whereby palm warblers and yellow-rumped warblers (two that are relatively easy to recognize in the fall) were very numerous. It was like a little flashback to spring ahead of the long winter. Read story here.
6. Clapper rail. Katie and I walked along a marsh in the spring and heard the unmistakable call of a clapper rail. We looked at an opening in the marsh and the unusual bird ran across the mudflat and disappeared into the tall marsh grasses.
5. No owl, but buntings. I walked the length of a Connecticut beach where a snowy owl had been being seen reliably for quite some time. I came up empty on the owl, but did enjoy the snow buntings and larks that were there. Read story here.
4. Cooperative indigo bunting. Indigo buntings are a thrill to see regardless of the circumstances. One August afternoon, I came across a brilliant male indigo bunting singing from an obvious perch close to the trail. Bird photography should always be so simple. Read story here.
3. Road eagle. Anyone who drives to work knows the daily commute can get rather monotonous. One morning, as I passed a swollen part of a creek where wood ducks occasionally swim, I noticed a large bird perched on a snag over the water. It was an immature bald eagle either resting or looking for prey in or around the water. A break from the norm, for sure. Read story here.
2. Continuing For the Birds. I have written my For the Birds column for well over 20 years now. I enjoy writing it as much, if not more, than people enjoy reading it. I love hearing from long-time readers as well as new readers. A lot has changed in the world over the past 20-plus years, but New England’s passion for nature has only gotten stronger.
1. Bobcat! Without question, this was the nature highlight of the year. I spotted the bobcat from afar in a field and walked in its direction. It kept walking and going about its day. When it stopped and sat in the field, I stopped and grabbed a few shots with the camera. Then I slowly walked backward away from the impressive animal. Read story here.
I can’t wait to see what 2022 brings. In many ways, it’s off to a poor start, but let’s remain positive and create some great nature highlights. Drop me a line and let me know your highlights.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A black duck hides in the grasses near a pond in northern New Hampshire, July 2020.
I dreaded looking it up, but as it turns out, there was nothing to dread.
Let me explain.
There are a handful of regular birding columns that I write every year about this time. One is on Christmas gifts for the birdwatcher, one is about the Christmas Bird Count, one is on my birding highlights of the year, and one is on my New Year’s resolutions for the coming year.
It is the resolution column that I dread looking back on. There are sure to be many failures, and I just hope there are a few successes to go along with it.
I was surprised when I looked up last year’s resolution column. As it turns out, I didn’t write one last year after all. Maybe there was too much going on, maybe I figured I wouldn’t stick to the resolutions anyway, or maybe COVID’s first Christmas had me so down I just couldn’t bring myself to write a forward-thinking, optimistic column.
Well, COVID is still with us and wreaking havoc on another holiday season, but I am not going to let it win this year. So here’s my latest birding New Year’s resolution column.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A bird house covered in snow, Danbury, CT, December 2019.
Here’s a Christmas column I wrote 6 years ago (Andrew is now 18). I stumbled across it on the internet and figured I’d rerun it. Why not? I thought the introductory story was pretty funny and I remember the day well. Some of the gift ideas may be out of date as this is an unedited version of the original column.
…
My son Andrew, now 12, needed a new pair of pants for school. And he needed them for the next day. Unfortunately it was a Sunday afternoon during the holiday shopping season.
Oh boy. Let’s get this over with, I said to myself. I avoid shopping malls and plazas at all costs all year round, let alone during a weekend a few weeks before Christmas.
It was even worse than I imagined. Parking was not an issue. There were plenty of spots far from the entrance and I don’t mind walking a few extra steps to avoid fighting over the closer spots.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A Carolina wren visits to a New England backyard, January 2021.
I find myself saying “that’s one of my favorite birds“ a lot. I know that list should be relatively short so as to not water down the significance of the birds on it, but it’s a list that grows and never gets pared down.
I have always been fond of the Carolina wren, but in recent years I have become more enamored with that little brown bird. Not surprisingly, it’s on that list.
Carolina wrens are a bit more brightly colored and a bit more loquacious than the other wrens we see in New England. That is saying a lot as the house wren is quite the loud talker as well.
Photo by Chris Bosak A snow bunting eats seeds on a beach in Connecticut, fall 2021.
A snowy owl at a Connecticut beach caused a big rift among birdwatchers last month.
Many people were posting its location, and others felt it was inappropriate and dangerous to the bird to post its whereabouts. On top of that, many people took exception to some photographers who were getting too close and being too aggressive with their craft.
I wasn’t there to see the bird or the behavior of the spectators, but I have certainly seen aggressive photographers before and most definitely do not condone their behavior. However, I have also seen non-photographers get annoyed at photographers for no legitimate reason. Like most situations, the truth is likely somewhere in the middle and dependent upon where you fall in the “how close is too close” spectrum.
I found myself in the vicinity of the beach last week and couldn’t resist trying to find the owl. It had been seen and photographed reliably for about two weeks before my visit. In fact, I met a birder in the parking lot that morning who had seen the owl the previous day.
Birds of New England.com 