For the Birds: Eerie noises during a night in New England

Photo by Chris Bosak – A red fox works its way through the New England woods.

This fox had no consideration for my sleep schedule.

I was sound asleep when the fox decided it was a good time to sit on the shared driveway that separates my house from my neighbor’s house and start barking over and over. I rolled over, tapped the screen on my phone and saw 3:01 displayed. 

The fox was about 15 yards away from where I had been enjoying a good night’s sleep. I pulled back the curtain and there it was, plain as day (even though it was the middle of the night), sitting in the middle of the driveway barking away.

If you’ve ever heard a fox barking, you know it’s not like a dog barking. We’ve all been jarred awake by dogs barking before, but that sound is familiar, and usually the owner is quick to respond and stop the barking. 

A fox’s bark, however, is otherworldly. They are canines, but they do not sound like domesticated dogs. They sound like something you’d hear at a haunted house around Halloween.  

Under other circumstances, I would have enjoyed the visit and, believe it or not, taken pleasure in the sound. But 3:01 in the morning? A fox barking is one of the more unnerving night sounds in New England, especially from 15 yards away when you are in the middle of a deep sleep.

If you have never heard a fox barking, do an internet search and see what you’ve been missing. 

I’ve never personally heard a fisher vocalize at night (or day for that matter), but I understand it makes a fox’s bark sound like child’s play. 

Coyotes calling back and forth at night can also be alarming at first, especially if there are several yipping back and forth to each other. I’ve heard that plenty of times, day and night.

The ultimate “spooky” night sound, of course, is an owl hooting. Great horned owls are not so alarming, as their “who’s awake, me too” call is rather quiet and soothing. 

The barred owl, however, is anything but soothing. Their “who cooks for you, who cooks for you all” call is given at a high volume and sounds nothing like the owls you hear in the movies. I love hearing it, don’t get me wrong, but I can definitely see how some people, especially those hearing it for the first time, would wonder what the heck is making that noise. When there are two barred owls going back and forth, well, that’s double the fun.

I heard a pair of barred owls on a recent walk. Barred owls are primarily active at night, but they can also hunt and vocalize during the day. I never did find the owls, although I didn’t look very hard either. Owls nest early in the year, and I didn’t want to go tromping through the woods and potentially disturb them. Even so, hearing the owls was the birding highlight of the walk. 

The sounds that may be heard at night in New England are fascinating, if not somewhat unnerving at times. Foxes, fishers, coyotes, owls, whippoorwills (if you’re lucky enough), tree frogs, and even a deer snorting can make your ears perk up and wonder what’s going on out there. 

Good luck going back to sleep right away after hearing those sounds.

For the Birds: Looking back on birding highlights of 2025

Photo by Chris Bosak – A dark-eyed junco eats goldenrod seeds at Huntington State Park in Redding, Connecticut, November 2025.

It’s time for one of my favorite annual columns, as I take a look at my top 10 birding/wildlife moments from the past year. It’s always fun to look back at a year’s worth of For the Birds columns and pick the moments that continue to resonate with me the most.

Here are my top 10 birding moments of 2025:

10. Early in 2025, when ice still dominated most ponds and rivers, I found a small unfrozen pond with a hooded merganser pair and a small flock of ring-necked ducks. The pond was small enough to afford good photo ops of the birds but large enough that they felt safe on the opposite shore.

9. My eBird totals for 2025 were the highest they have ever been, with 171 species seen during the year, including 134 in New England. They are still modest numbers compared to many serious birders, but I’ve never been a lister and do not put a strong emphasis on finding rarities. For me, the total number is not as important as the combined experience.

8. A few of the species I saw exclusively outside of New England this year came during what has become an annual May birding trip to my old hometown of Erie, Pennsylvania. My brother Paul and I visit Presque Isle State Park and hit our favorite warbler spots for three days straight. We spotted 63 species on our best day.

7. Watching a female Baltimore oriole build a nest was one of the best sightings from that trip to Pennsylvania. It was interesting to see the progress she made on her woven hanging nest over a three-day span.

6. I took a mid-September camping trip to Pillsbury State Park in Washington, N.H., and caught several warbler species on their southward migration. Other highlights included three otters, an immature bald eagle, a solitary sandpiper and a green snake.

5. It had been several years since I visited the shore of Long Island Sound in the summer to see the nesting grounds of piping plovers, American oystercatchers and least terns. I found all three of those species during a late July visit to the Coastal Center at Milford Point in southwest Connecticut.

4. Although it was a very short camping trip, I did manage to get to Pittsburg, N.H., this summer. Loons, bald eagles and warblers were the highlights. I saw the common loon pair on a large lake in the morning with a heavy fog making visibility almost nonexistent.

3. Going back to my Pennsylvania trip in May, I saw and was able to photograph a sandhill crane pair that nested at the park for the first time. I heard the birds first and immediately recognized that it wasn’t a typical bird found in the Northeast. Merlin confirmed it was a sandhill crane, and the search began, which eventually ended in success.

2. I continue to have a fascination with photographing birds eating berries. This was a good year in that regard with robins, cardinals and white-throated sparrows eating border privet berries in January. In October, I came across a huge flock of cedar waxwings eating yellow crabapples. 

1. My top birding highlight of 2025 features a rather common bird, the dark-eyed junco. On a rather dreary early November morning, I stepped into a small field where the goldenrod had faded to varying shades of brown. Dozens of juncos eating seeds from the tops of goldenrod plants literally surrounded me as I stood there taking in the scene. It was proof that bright colors or rare birds are not necessary ingredients for lasting memories or treasured photos. 

Thanks for indulging me on that walk down memory lane. Feel free to send me some of your top birding moments from the year that was.

For the Birds: Evening grosbeaks on the move

Mike Quinn of Ticonderoga, N.Y. had these evening grosbeaks visit recently (December 2025.)

There is a thing in birding called a “spark bird.”

It is not a species of bird like a bluebird, mockingbird or blackbird, but rather the type of bird that piqued (or sparked) someone’s interest in birding and got them hooked. For many people, it is something big or colorful, like a loon or eagle or Baltimore oriole or great blue heron.

Because I have to be different, my spark bird is actually a moose. Yes, I know a moose is not a bird, but my quest to see a moose in the Vermont woods led me to my love of birdwatching.

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For the Birds: Inside the hawkwatch

Photo by Chris Bosak
Young Cooper’s hawk in New England.

Last week’s For the Birds column highlighted the results of this year’s fall hawkwatches with a particular focus on Pack Monadnock in Peterborough. The column was heavily focused on data and the number of birds counted.

A number of questions came up in my head as I looked at the results and compiled the data. Not one to let questions go unanswered in my head, I turned to the experts for some explanations.

Specifically, I had an enjoyable chat with Phil and Julie Brown of Hancock, N.H. 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.

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For the Birds: Surrounded by juncos

Photo by Chris Bosak – A dark-eyed junco eats goldenrod seeds at Huntington State Park in Redding, Connecticut, November 2025.

Have you seen any videos of kayakers being surrounded by whales? 

I’ve seen a few such videos. I’m not sure where they were filmed, but I’m reasonably sure they are real and not AI-generated. Of course, it’s getting harder to tell these days.

While being surrounded by whales would be a moment you’d never forget, I’m not sure I’d want to experience it. I didn’t get into bird- and wildlife-watching for extreme, brush-with-destiny experiences. 

I did, however, have a similar experience last week. Granted, this was far less risky and would never go viral on social media, but for me, it was a moment I won’t soon forget.

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For the Birds: Strong winter for finches forecasted

Photo by Chris Bosak Pine siskins visit a feeder in Danbury, Connecticut, March 2019.

My favorite part of winter birdwatching has always been looking for waterfowl on whatever open water remains. Searching for bald eagles in those same areas has become another favorite of mine as the population of our national bird soars, and we see them more frequently.

Winter is also arguably the best time to watch feeders in the yard, although one can easily make a case for spring being the best time when the grosbeaks, buntings and other surprises arrive. Watching the feeders in winter, particularly before a storm, is a constant treat of chickadees, titmice, nuthatches, woodpeckers, cardinals, blue jays, juncos and white-throated sparrows.

In my opinion, an underrated part of winter birding is the finch irruption, or lack thereof, depending on the year. Birds such as siskins, redpolls, purple finches, crossbills, pine grosbeaks and evening grosbeaks sometimes irrupt into our region as food supply dictates. Other birds such as red-breasted nuthatches are also lumped into the category of unpredictable winter bird visitors.

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For the Birds: Rails get their turn finally

Photo by Chris Bosak Clapper rail in Milford, Connecticut, summer 2025.

I’ve written about a lot of different types of birds over the last 30 years. There are some birds I’ve likely written about hundreds of times, and some only a handful of times.

If I searched my “For the Birds” folder for chickadee, robin or woodpecker, I’d get hundreds of hits. If I searched for vireo or flycatcher, I’d get far fewer hits, but still a decent amount.

There’s one bird family found in New England I’m not sure I’ve ever written about or even mentioned within a column. It’s the rail family. Rails are small to medium-sized chicken-like birds of the marshes. The reasons I haven’t written about them before are fairly obvious: rails are not very common, live in a habitat that is difficult for humans to traverse and are extremely secretive.

New England has a few members of the rail family. Virginia rail is the most common and the one most likely to be seen in New Hampshire. Sora is the other most likely candidate in New Hampshire. Clapper rails may be found along the coastal regions of New England.

There are also yellow rails, black rails and king rails found in New England, but they are rarely seen. Virginia rail is the best bet, but even that is a chore.

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For the Birds: Birds sightings can happen anywhere

Photo by Chris Bosak – A Cooper’s hawk eats a meal in New England, summer 2025.

“One of the nice things about birdwatching is …”

I’ve started many sentences with that phrase over the years. The backend of that line may be finished in almost innumerable ways:

… everyone, regardless of age or skill level, can enjoy it.

… it can be done during any time of the day or year.

… no two days are alike.

… there is always something new to learn or discover, regardless of how advanced you are.

… each time of year brings its own delights.

For the purposes of this column, the sentence will read: “One of the nice things about birdwatching is that it can be done anywhere.” Not many hobbies can be enjoyed in the woods, in a canoe or kayak, at a local park, or sitting in the kitchen looking out the window with your morning cup of coffee.

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Northern pintail continues “Duck Week”

Photo by Chris Bosak Northern pintail pair at a pond in New England, March 2025.

The northern pintail is the next fowl up for birdsofnewengland’s Duck Week, a very unofficial declaration made by me because I have a lot of recent duck photos that need to be shared. Pintail drakes are one of the most handsome ducks we have in New England. If you missed the first Duck Week post, click here to meet the hooded merganser.

For more information about the northern pintail, click here.

Photo by Chris Bosak
Here is that pintail pair with an American wigeon pair swimming behind them, March 2025.

For the Birds: Phoebes shine in the spring and fall

Photo by Chris Bosak An Eastern Phoebe perches on a branch in Selleck's Woods in Darien, Conn., in late March 2015.

They aren’t the most exciting birds on the planet, or even in New England for that matter. Eastern phoebes, however, are a bright spot in the region’s birdscape.


They don’t have flashy colors, impressive size or beautiful songs — in fact, just the opposite on all counts — but there is a lot to appreciate about eastern phoebes. My favorite thing about eastern phoebes is that they are one of the first migrant birds to return to New England in the spring. While most of the colorful songbirds return in late April or early May, phoebes come back to the region in mid- to late-March.   

Their early spring arrival comes just in time for many birdwatchers. About the time we are going stir crazy and desperate for new birds to arrive following many months of winter, the phoebes return and lift our spirits. Typically, I hear the first phoebe before I see it, and it takes a few seconds for the song to sink in and register. Then, when it hits me, I look frantically for the bird and, upon laying eyes on it, get a jolt of hope that spring is indeed coming. 

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