Photo by Chris Bosak Sandhill cranes at Presque Isle State Park in Erie, Pennsylvania, May 2026.
It was a repeat performance for the sandhill cranes at Presque Isle State Park in Erie, Pennsylvania, earlier in May. Last year, my brother and I visited the park in my old hometown in northwestern Pennsylvania and were surprised to see sandhill cranes. Indeed, it was the first year the cranes attempted to nest at Presque Isle, which is a peninsula jutting into Lake Erie. Here’s the story from last year.
This year, the cranes are back, and by the time we visited the park, they had two young ones (colts) with them. I saw them only from a distance, so the photos aren’t great, but they’re serviceable enough. See the colt in the lower right of the top and bottom photos. I returned home to New England a few days later, and I haven’t heard whether the cranes were successful in raising the colts, but I hope so.
Sandhill cranes have also been nesting in random spots throughout New England over the last few years.
Photo by Chris Bosak Sandhill crane at Presque Isle State Park in Erie, Pennsylvania, May 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak Sandhill cranes at Presque Isle State Park in Erie, Pennsylvania, May 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak A female Baltimore oriole brings material back to her nesting site this spring.
On my way to visit my family in Pennsylvania, I decided to stop at the Bashakill Wildlife Management Area in Sullivan County, New York, to see what birds might be in and around the giant marsh.
I used to canoe there frequently when I lived closer to that spot, but I hadn’t been there in many years. I didn’t have my canoe with me this time, but luckily there is a trail that follows the edge of the water and offers many expansive views.
As a bonus, the trail is wooded, so you get the shallow water on one side and the woods on the other. The Bashakill has a navigable channel winding through the middle, but the surrounding area is shallow water with thick aquatic vegetation where wood ducks and other birds find refuge.
I parked at the boat ramp where I had launched my canoe many times in the past and took a glance at the water before hitting the trail. Canada geese and red-winged blackbirds were the only birds I saw on the water at the moment. As soon as I started on the trail, however, I was surrounded by birdsong like only spring can offer.
The red-winged blackbirds’ familiar “conk-a-tee” call was the dominant sound, but the trees were filled with the songs of yellow warblers, warbling videos, yellow-throated videos, least flycatchers, American redstarts, Baltimore orioles, and blue-grey gnatcatchers.
I followed the trail for less than a mile when I came across a platform. It was about 15 feet high and overlooked the water. I noticed as soon as I got to the top of the platform that I was eye-to-eye with a Baltimore oriole nest with a female poking her head out of the leaves that surround the nest. She had soft nesting material in her bill, so I’m guessing she was in the process of finishing up the nest.
The high platform offered a great view of the surrounding trees. It was almost like being among the birds. On many occasions, I looked down on birds such as yellow warblers, warbling vireos and eastern phoebes.
In the same direction, but further into the woods from the oriole nest, I noticed a white-breasted nuthatch coming and going from a hole in a tree. Again, I was about eye level with this hole, which turned out to be a nest for the nuthatches. The male came and went and brought caterpillars back to the female inside the nest. She made a brief appearance at the opening of the hole when the male returned with worms and other goodies.
It was the first time I can recall finding an active nuthatch nest. As well-designed and camouflaged as oriole nests are, I have found those nests during the spring many times.
The action was so fast, yet peaceful, that I stayed on the platform for about an hour watching the birds. In the water, I saw several wood ducks as well as dozens of red-winged blackbirds and Canada geese. I didn’t see any ospreys or eagles, however. I found an eagle’s nest eye in a tall pine, but no birds appeared to be in it, and I never saw them flying or perched in a different tree.
I was surprised because eagles were always a very reliable sighting there. The same goes for osprey.
When I eventually climbed down from the platform, I was greeted at the bottom by a yellow warbler in a shrub almost within arm’s reach. This bird had no fear of me and flitted among the shrubs for a good five minutes before ascending to a higher spot in a nearby tree.
I am not usually the type to take detours when I am driving somewhere. When I drive, it is almost always about getting to the destination as quickly as possible and not about enjoying the journey. I do wish I could make it more about the journey sometimes, and I am glad I made this exception. Maybe this will inspire more journeys.
Photo by Chris Bosak A male piping plover (back) pursues a female at Milford Point in New England, April 16, 2026.
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.
Photo by Chris Bosak A male piping plover (back) pursues a female at Milford Point in New England, April 16, 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak A male piping plover (back) pursues a female at Milford Point in New England, April 16, 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak Piping plovers copulate at Milford Point in New England, April 16, 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak Piping plovers copulate at Milford Point in New England, April 16, 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak Piping plovers copulate at Milford Point in New England, April 16, 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak American oystercatcher pair at Milford Point in New England, April 16, 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak Brant at Milford Point in New England, April 16, 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak A male piping plover (back) pursues a female at Milford Point in New England, April 16, 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak The eastern towhee used to be called chewink.
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.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A common merganser swims in a pond in Danbury, Conn., March 2019.
When you have done something for so long, sometimes it is hard to remember what it was like at the beginning. The other day, however, I came across a scene that reminded me of one of my early birdwatching experiences.
The recent prolonged cold spell we endured froze or kept frozen most of the water throughout the region. That makes for a great time to check the areas where water does not freeze, such as dams or fast-moving streams.
I drive past a large dam frequently and always look at the bottom where the water is constantly flowing. I do this especially during the winter to see if any ducks are gathered in the open water. In the right season and under the right conditions, there are usually several common mergansers in the pool created by the flowing water.
Photo by Chris Bosak A house finch perches in a snowy bush during a snowstorm, January 25, 2026, New England.
A few more bird photos from the January 25, 2026, snowstorm in New England.
Photo by Chris Bosak A white-throated sparrow perches in a snowy bush during a snowstorm, January 25, 2026, New England.Photo by Chris Bosak A female cardinal perches on a branch during a snowstorm, January 2026, New England.
Photo by Chris Bosak White-throated sparrow in snow, New England, January 2026.
You didn’t think I’d let a snowy weekend go by without posting a few snowy bird photos, did you?
Photo by Chris Bosak American goldfinch eats seeds from a spent flower in New England, January 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak Eastern bluebird in a birdbath in New England, January 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak A fox sparrow perches on a snowy branch in New England, January 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak A Carolina wren searches for food under a feeder in New England, January 2026.Photo by Chris Bosak A red-breasted nuthatch takes a safflower seed from a feeder in New England, January 2026.
Photo by Chris Bosak An eastern bluebird braves a New England winter and visit a backyard for mealworms, winter 2020.
The calendar may not show it yet, but in the New England bird world, we’ve officially entered what could be called winter birding season. The vast majority of southbound migrants have left, and the birds we get to enjoy for the next couple of months are either trusty year-round residents or northern visitors who have traveled as far south as they intend to go.
Winter is, of course, the prime time when juncos and white-throated sparrows are found in high numbers. My personal favorite part of winter birdwatching is tracking down different species of ducks. That is, if you can find some open water.
Photo by Chris Bosak
A broad-winged hawk perches in a tree in northern New Hampshire, July 2020.
The fall hawkwatching season is winding down. Raptor sightings at the various dedicated locations are slowing down, with only a handful of birds counted each day as November progresses.
It’s a good time, therefore, to check in to see how the various hawkwatching sites fared this year. New England has several popular sites, but Pack Monadnock at Miller State Park in Peterborough is New Hampshire’s most active and popular site. The hawk count is a project of the Harris Center for Conservation Education in Hancock.