Here are a few shots I got this weekend while out and about.
For many birdwatchers, this is the best time of year. Breeding season has begun in earnest, and the spring migration is in full swing.
Every walk in late April and early to mid-May has the potential to yield something that wasn’t there the day before. The other day, I took a quick walk and spotted my year’s first wood thrush, blue-gray gnatcatcher, blue-winged warbler and black-and-white warbler.
It’s also a busy time for my email inbox, as spring’s increased activity brings many exciting bird observations and raises some questions too.
Nancy from Keene shared that a pileated woodpecker made holes from top to bottom on a snag (dead tree) in her yard. She mentioned that she hears the large woodpeckers every year, but this was the first time she was able to get a video with her phone. Now, the moment has documentation that she can enjoy at any time.
To me, the best part of the story is that Nancy said she had a tree removal service doing some necessary tree work about 15 years ago, and she asked them to leave some snags standing. A decade and a half later, that request paid off big time. I’ve written from time to time over the years about the importance of leaving some dead trees standing as long as they don’t pose a threat to self or property. Snags are a vital resource for woodpeckers and other animals for shelter and food.
Lenny from Greenfield also shared that a pileated woodpecker visited a snag on his farm as well. Lenny also reported that evening grosbeaks visited his yard, and he was surprised one day to find a crow perched on his birdfeeder pole.
Norma from Spofford had a few interesting and somewhat rare sightings at her feeder. She saw an American robin on her deck and figured she would throw a few mealworms out. The robin ate the offerings and visited her feeder to get more mealworms for the next several days. Later, she spotted a northern flicker on her suet feeder. Robins and flickers may not be rare sightings, but they are not commonly seen at feeders.
Lew from Keene had an interesting robin experience of his own when he saw a leucistic robin along the side of a road. Leucism is a loss of pigmentation in feathers or fur, making the animal appear white. It differs from albinism in that albinism is a complete lack of melanin that even affects the eyes. Leucism often makes birds appear patchy, which was the case with Lew’s bird. In my experience anyway, robins and juncos are two of the New England birds most impacted by leucism.
Patti from Westmoreland and Andy from Spofford each wrote in to say they had to stop feeding birds for the spring and summer as bears are now a threat. Andy, however, said he was a day late, as he walked out of his house one morning to find the seed and suet feeders gone and one of the poles bent into a C shape. Andy, who teaches first-graders, used the experience as a teaching moment and brought the pole into school to show how strong bears are. He said some of his students tried to bend the pole back into shape, but none succeeded.
Patti said she lost what had been her best feeder to a bear last year. She wondered if the remaining birdseed from this year will last until winter when she can resume feeding birds. If properly sealed and stored in a cool, dark place, some birdseed can last about a year. Nyjer, or thistle, seed will spoil faster.
In another coincidence, Eric from Surry and Linda from Middletown each wrote in to say they had wood ducks under their bird feeders. Eric thought it was a strange sighting as there aren’t any ponds in his area, but there are a few swampy areas. Linda also sent a photo of a bobcat in her backyard. She has been seeing a bobcat pair in her yard for the past eight years. Now that would be cool.
This is also the time when some birds, such as white-throated sparrows and dark-eyed juncos, that have kept us entertained throughout the long winter become scarce. Amy from Harrisville was recently treated to more than 30 juncos in her yard.
Thanks to those who sent in their sightings. Let me know what you see this spring.
A few birds from this weekend …
While the majority of spring migrants are still working their way north, many of New England’s year-round birds are already getting down to the business of nesting.
I’m sure I’ll see plenty of nesting activity as the spring progresses, but last week I witnessed two interesting scenes related to nesting.
The first was in my backyard. As I approached one of my birdfeeders to throw in a handful of safflower seed, I noticed a northern flicker dart off into the woods. Its white rump patch gave away its identification. I was fairly certain the flicker had been clinging to a topped-off dead tree a dozen or so yards away from the feeder, and I made a note to approach the feeder more carefully next time.
Sure enough, I returned half an hour later and found a flicker on the same snag. I kept my distance this time and watched as the flicker worked on hollowing out a hole in the snag. I observed for a few minutes and went back into the house.
Over the next several days, I watched a male and female flicker take turns hollowing out the hole. It was slow-going, but the flickers kept at it dutifully. I’ll continue to watch the progress, and, hopefully, the flickers will successfully build a nest there and raise young. That would make for an interesting spring and summer in my yard.
Watching how slow the progress was and how much work the flickers put into making the cavity, I have new respect for woodpeckers and how difficult the job of securing the future of the species is. I also see why so many birds and animals utilize old woodpecker holes for their own nesting purposes. The hard construction work has already been done.
I read that flickers are uncommon among woodpeckers in that they often reuse cavities from the previous year. I don’t blame them. I can’t imagine doing that every year.
From that hopeful scene to one a bit darker: I was sitting in my office when I noticed movement through the window. The motion stopped in a tangle of vines where the parking lot and woods meet. I lifted my binoculars (yes, I have a pair at the office) and spotted a robin sitting in a nest. I was excited and concerned at the same time. While the nest itself was pretty well hidden, it was right at the edge of the woods and fairly obvious with the bird in the nest.
I watched a male and female come and go throughout the day and even shared the news with some co-workers. Even while I thought about how neat it would be to have a flicker nesting at my home and nesting robins visible through my window at work, I remained cautiously optimistic about the robins.
Later in the afternoon, I saw a blur flash past my window. By this time, a car in the lot had blocked part of my view of the vines where the nest had been built. I had a feeling what the blur was, but hoped I was wrong.
I stood, and my fears were realized. A red-shouldered hawk was standing on the nest tearing it apart. The robins took a few swipes at the hawk, but the larger bird of prey hardly seemed to notice.
The robins, of course, abandoned the nest and haven’t returned. Thankfully, it’s still very early in the season, and the robins can try again–hopefully, in a better place next time.
I was confused about the encounter. The obvious conclusion is that the hawk raided the nest to eat the eggs. However, I don’t think the robins had eggs in the nest yet. I had just noticed the robins for the first time that day. Surely, since it was in direct sight of my office window, I would have noticed the robins building the nest prior to that day.
Then why would the hawk go after the nest like that? Maybe it attacked the nest in the hopes that there would be eggs or baby birds in it and came up empty. Or perhaps it was a territorial message, as red-shouldered hawks do nest on the property.
Regardless of the reason, I wish the robins luck with their next attempt. I also wish the hawk luck on its next quest for food. And, of course, I wish the flickers luck in their nesting season.
I got up early and headed to Huntington State Park in Redding, Connecticut, and was rewarded with a good mix of migrants I hadn’t seen since last year.
Fun, feisty little bird.
Not exactly a migrant, and I had seen sapsuckers all winter, but I had to include this handsome bird anyway. This is a male as indicated by the red throat.
I’ve been seeing these for a few weeks now.
Not the best photo, of course, but this was as close as I could get. Cool bird though.
I was lucky enough to live through New Hampshire’s golden age of moose.
The moose population in the state peaked at somewhere around 7,000 to 8,000 in the mid- to late-1990s. At the time, I worked a four-day week and had Sunday, Monday and Tuesday off each week. Working until midnight on Fridays and Saturdays wasn’t great for my social life, but it was ideal for camping trips. As I headed to northern New Hampshire on Sunday afternoons, most people were packing up and going back home to start the workweek.
I had my choice of campsites at Deer Mountain State Park in Pittsburg, and I had my choice of ponds on which to canoe. Rarely did I see other paddlers on the ponds. But I saw plenty of moose. I won’t exaggerate and say I saw dozens on each trip, but I certainly saw four or five either on the ponds or along the roads each time I went. I can’t recall a trip where I didn’t see at least a few moose.
My most memorable canoe trip came on a Monday after a Fourth of July weekend when I had my favorite pond to myself in the evening and three bull moose lumbered out from different parts of the surrounding woods and settled into the pond with me. That was 30-odd years ago, and I still vividly remember the splashing noise the water made as it cascaded off their velvet-covered antlers when they picked up their heads with a mouth full of aquatic plants.
Those were the good old days.
Then, my life situation changed. I moved farther away and worked normal hours and days. My trips up north decreased dramatically and were relegated to typical weekend days.
More importantly, the moose started to disappear. Slowly at first and then dramatically.
The state’s moose population is now estimated to be about 3,000. A combination of winter ticks, brainworm and changing habitat essentially cut the moose population in half, or more.
The decline started in the early 2000s and received a boatload of press for many years. I wrote my own news article for the Keene Sentinel on the subject in 2019. Lately, it seems to me anyway, the updates have subsided. How are moose doing now? Still decreasing? Perhaps increasing?
It seems like it’s neither, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“The moose population has been relatively stable for the last five years,” Henry Jones, Moose Project Leader for New Hampshire Fish and Game Department, said last week. “It varies locally, with some areas up and some down. Overall, the population has been declining for 20 years.”
Why is that not necessarily bad news? The golden age of moose I mentioned before may have been too much of a good thing. The density of moose in some areas was too high and not sustainable. High moose density allows for winter ticks to thrive. More moose, more ticks. Fewer moose, fewer ticks.
Jones, who received his bachelor’s and master’s degrees from University of New Hampshire, said the goal is to conserve the moose population while still being able to offer recreational opportunities. Last year, the state issued 35 moose hunting permits and there was a 70 percent success rate. This year, the state will again issue 35 permits.
Goal number one for moose in the New Hampshire Big Game Management Plan 2026-2035 calls for population levels that “allow them to be in good physical condition and are realistic for habitat conditions.”
With winter ticks decimating the moose up north, a relatively small population compared to the 1990s is desirable. Why have 7,000 moose if most of them are going to die or become extremely weak due to the ticks slowly and excruciatingly bleeding them dry?
As much as I’d love to head north and see as many moose as I used to, conditions no longer support that. It pains me to say that because I have great memories of seeing so many moose back then, but this is the new reality.
While we may not see a glut of moose again in the state, with the help of biologists at New Hampshire Fish and Game, moose in sustainable numbers will be around for a long time.
I took a trip to the Connecticut Audubon Society Coastal Center at Milford Point today to see piping plovers, American oystercatchers, and whatever else may be around. I timed it nicely, as I found several piping plover pairs doing their mating ritual and even saw one pair copulating.
The male plovers followed the females around the rocks and sand, standing tall and performing a type of stomp dance with their feet and legs. It was quite entertaining.
While the plovers and oystercatchers were the highlight, there were dozens (hundreds maybe) of brant still hanging around New England.
Too often, the perils facing a species in serious decline rise to the top of our consciousness through extensive media coverage or other means only to fade into the backs of our minds over time.
Is progress being made to help the species? Has the decline worsened, gotten better or stayed the same?
Here is a look at a few species in peril that were all over the media years ago, but not so much in recent years.
Remember when monarch butterflies were believed to be going extinct and had only a few years left? That news took on a life of its own in the mid-2010s due to a catastrophic population collapse caused mainly by habitat loss.
It turns out the apocalyptic predictions may not have been right, but the species is far from out of the woods. The latest reports show short-term improvement but significant long-term declines.
The World Wildlife Fund last month published an article entitled “Monarch butterfly population increases by 64 percent.” The article states that the population increase is buoyed by a reduction in forest degradation of their winter habitat.
While that is definitely good news, I’m slightly skeptical about how they obtained the 64 percent number. Scientists do not actually count or estimate the number of butterflies they see (that would be nearly impossible to do) but rather monitor how many acres of forest have monarch colonies in their winter range. In 2026, 7.24 acres were inhabited by monarchs compared to 4.42 acres last year.
Again, good news for sure, but the long-term decline is still grim considering they covered 45 acres just 30 years ago, according to the WWF. Hopefully, this short-term increase trend continues.
What about honey bees? Remember how the media told us we were all going to starve because honey bees were disappearing? Indeed, Colony Collapse Disorder in the mid-2000s wiped out about 30 percent of the honey bee colonies, and those losses continue today in some areas due to factors such as mite infestation, pesticides, and habitat loss.
The panic over the loss of honey bees created a surge in home beekeeping, which has helped keep overall population numbers relatively stable. Unfortunately, recent years have seen an uptick in bee colony mortality, with 2025 being one of the worst years yet.
Extinction is not imminent, but all bees, either wild or part of a managed colony, should remain in the public consciousness as the consequences of a bee-less world are severe.
Bats are another animal that received a lot of concern due to a precipitous decline. The panic was warranted as some species were nearly completely wiped out by white-nose syndrome that came to New Hampshire in 2009. Similar to the monarchs and honey bees, bats seem to be making a slow comeback.
Despite the recent success, historic numbers are still concerning. Caves that used to house thousands of bats now have hundreds. According to a University of New Hampshire report last month, one bat survey counted more than 3,000 bats in 2009 and only 16 in 2011. That’s how quick and devastating the fungus was. In 2022, the number was up to 700.
Next week, I’ll look at a decline that is near and dear to my heart. Ever since I saw my first moose in the early 1990s, they have been my favorite animal at times bordering on obsession. Sadly, their numbers took a huge hit in recent years. Are they making a comeback, or are they still struggling?
There is a pond 20 minutes from my house that I pass frequently. For 50 weeks of the year, the pond holds little interest for me other than being an aesthetically pleasing landmark to look at as I drive past.
In the summer, a few mallards and Canada geese are the only birds present. It being a small pond in New England, it is frozen for most of the winter, which is great for the skaters who have fun on the ice, but not so much for birdwatchers.
However, during one week in early spring and one week in late fall, the pond holds a surprisingly solid variety of migrating ducks.
The other day when I drove past, I noticed a bunch of white blobs in the water, and, even at 40 mph, I knew just what they were.
I pulled over at the closest spot where it was safe to do so and turned the car around. From a spot along the road about 30 yards from the pond’s edge, I was able to confirm that indeed they were common mergansers. For a small pond, it held quite a few of the large waterfowl. Common mergansers happen to be one of my favorite birds, so I lingered at that spot along the road for close to an hour watching them.
In previous years, I have seen hooded mergansers perform their courtship display on this pond. To my delight, the common mergansers were doing their courtship display on this day.
Also to my pleasant surprise, the mergansers were not the only duck species on the pond. As I was watching the mergansers dive and resurface, a small group of ring-necked ducks came over to join the party. They did not stay long among the common mergansers but rather silently floated to the other side of the pond. As I followed the ring-necked ducks’ path through my binoculars, I spotted a pair of gadwall on the opposite edge of the pond as well. A few mallards and Canada geese rounded out the fowl sightings.
It was a pleasant hour spent at the pond, especially considering a busy road runs adjacent to one long edge of the pond and the other edge is a residential area. My parking spot was along the residential road.
Yet another pleasing moment of this unexpected birding experience came in the form of a songbird. I had turned off my radio so as to not spook the mergansers away from the pond’s edge. Instead of listening to old songs I’ve heard hundreds of times before or some divisive news channel, I was treated to the sounds of a northern mockingbird showing off his repertoire from a nearby perch. At first, I thought it was an eastern phoebe, but that was just the first mimicked song I heard from the mocker.
I love the spring waterfowl migration. It serves as a link between the early songbird migrants, such as red-winged blackbirds and eastern phoebes, and the multitude of other birds that follow. While the spring waterfowl migration is somewhat predictable (look at just about any unfrozen body of water and you’ll see ducks of some sort), it is fleeting. Ducks and other fowl feel a sense of urgency to get to their northern breeding grounds, and they tend not to linger too long on their migratory stopover spots.
Depending on your location, the variety of waterfowl that pass through New England (and some stay, of course) is pretty impressive. Some of my favorites include common merganser, hooded merganser, northern pintail, northern shoveler, bufflehead and common goldeneye.
The trick is getting out there as often as possible during these few weeks when they are passing through. The other trick is to check all open water. Migrating ducks often end up in unexpected places such as swelled roadside ditches, fast-moving streams, and, of course, small ponds along busy roads.
Many months ago, or maybe it was years at this point, I promised to do a column on old bird names.
Quite frankly, I forgot about it and never got around to doing the column. I can’t even remember what inspired me to consider such a column, but I must have been writing about a bird with a relatively new name and thought it would be a good idea to look at other somewhat recent bird name changes. Perhaps I wrote about a long-tailed duck and recalled the old name of oldsquaw. Regardless of the impetus, here’s that column I promised so long ago.
Now, I did write a column last summer about the most recent name changes by the American Ornithological Society. In that column, I relayed that the powers that be changed the name of the house wren we see in New England to northern house wren. A year earlier, I wrote that the three redpoll species were lumped into a single species called redpoll.
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Birds of New England.com 