Tag Archives: chris bosak nature photographer

For the Birds: Mixed blackbird flock points to spring ahead

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Photo by Chris Bosak
A female red-winged blackbird perches in a tree.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s never too early to talk about signs of spring.

Not that I’m rushing winter. There is plenty to do in winter, and I appreciate all of New England’s seasons for what they offer birdwatchers. But when a sign of spring presents itself, even with several inches of snow still on the ground, it’s hard to ignore.

Unlike plants that may be popping up through the ground but remain unseen due to the snow, birds offer visible and reliable signs of spring. The other day, as soon as I started my walk, I spied several birds flying overhead. In the distance, I heard the familiar and unmistakable songs of red-winged blackbirds.

It turned out to be a classic mixed flock of blackbirds with dozens and dozens of grackles, brown-headed cowbirds and red-winged blackbirds. They join forces, primarily in the winter, for protection (safety in numbers) and to find food sources. I didn’t see any starlings, but they often join those massive flocks.

It was hard to get an estimate of how many birds were in the flock. A few dozen would fly overhead, and then I’d walk up on a tree filled with blackbirds. Then a few more dozen would fly overhead, but I’d see more in another tree down the trail as well.

Red-winged blackbirds are one of the earliest signs of spring as they return from the south to start staking out breeding territory. While some may remain with us throughout the winter, the majority of red-winged blackbirds migrate.

Typically, males arrive a few weeks ahead of the females, but this flock had good numbers of male and female red-winged blackbirds. Female red-winged blackbirds somewhat resemble large, dark, streaked sparrows with a yellow wash around a longer, pointed bill. The flock also included a number of nonbreeding birds.

American robins have typically been known as a sign of spring, but with robins becoming more commonplace throughout the winter, it’s hard to tell if they are returning birds or if they have been with us all winter. Red-winged blackbirds are now a more reliable sign, but their early return can lead to false hope among those wishing for an early spring. (For me, the return of eastern phoebes around mid to late March is the best sign of spring these days.)

As I mentioned earlier, some red-winged blackbirds remain with us all winter as well, but birds in a large flock this time of year are likely migrants. Not many people would describe the red-winged blackbird’s harsh “kong-ka-reee” song as pleasant, but despite not hearing it for several months, I recognized it immediately, and it was, in fact, pleasing to my ears.

Now that at least one sign of spring has been noted, many more will follow, despite the snow still clinging to our landscape. Heck, owls are already nesting. Hawks will start repairing or building their nests. Many more red-winged blackbirds are sure to follow the flock I mentioned previously.

Once the snow melts, and it will eventually, signs of spring will be everywhere. Crocuses will be visible, and daffodils will start poking out of the ground. Trees will start to bud. To me, however, there’s nothing like birds to usher in the change of seasons.

The transition from winter to spring starts slowly with a flock or two of blackbirds and ever so slowly builds over several weeks until one day you’re standing in the woods surrounded by warblers, tanagers, orioles, grosbeaks and many more of our fair-weather feathered friends.

For the Birds: Bird sighting sparks memory of the past

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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. 

When I drove by the other day, the pool had shrunk due to the encroaching ice, and only a fairly small bit was left unfrozen. That small bit, however, was filled with dozens upon dozens of common mergansers. It was to the point where you could barely see any of the open water because it was filled by the large diving ducks.

As I rounded the corner and drove along the unfrozen stream, only about one hundred yards away from the dam, I spotted an adult bald eagle perched in a tree overlooking the water. Since common mergansers are one of my favorite birds, and bald eagles are too (who doesn’t love bald eagles?), I was quite excited about the sighting and made sure to tell everybody I came across for the next several hours.

A day or so later, it dawned on me that the scene seemed familiar. Then I remembered a canoe ride I had taken on Powder Mill Pond in Greenfield, New Hampshire, many years ago. We are going back almost 30 years here. During that canoe ride, I saw a massive flock of common mergansers as well as a lone adult bald eagle perched in one of the tall evergreens along the shoreline.

Several decades may separate the two sightings, but the feelings and emotions generated by the sightings were the same. It’s easy to see why the first sighting would have caused such excitement. I was new to birdwatching and bird photography, and, while common mergansers are plentiful each winter, bald eagles were a much less common sighting back then. 

Fast forward 30 years, and both mergansers and eagles are still cause for excitement for me. In that span, I have seen countless common mergansers and dozens, if not hundreds, of bald eagles. But the feeling is the same. Pure joy and excitement.

I consider myself lucky to have found a hobby, a challenge and a creative outlet that has enhanced my days and years as much as birdwatching has. Every time I enter the woods or launch a canoe, I have the same hopeful feeling and anticipation of what I might see during the walk or paddle. Occasionally I see almost nothing; usually I see the ordinary, and every once in a while I see the extraordinary.

Regardless of the outcome, I love it all.

For the Birds: Sapsucker make surprise winter visit

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Photo by Chris Bosak – A young yellow-bellied sapsucker visits a suet feeder in New England, January 2026.

At first it looked like a growth on the tall bush near my bird feeding station. I quickly realized it wasn’t a growth at all but rather a yellow-bellied sapsucker hugging a small branch. 

It was a first-year bird, and its dark coloration, lack of red head or throat, and barred plumage made it look like part of the bush. It also caught me by surprise because yellow-bellied sapsuckers are migratory and are not frequent visitors to feeders. It was also perfectly still for several minutes as, from the comfort of my living room, I watched it brave the single-digit temperatures.

It eventually swung a quarter turn around the branch, offering me a view of its profile. Then it darted over to the nearby suet feeder, where it pecked at the frozen cake for several minutes. It returned to the same branch on the bush where I had initially spotted it and remained there for as long as I could watch it. 

The bird was there the next day as well, alternating between its favorite branch and the suet feeder. 

It was the latest uncommon visitor to my feeders this winter, following the likes of a fox sparrow, red-breasted nuthatch and northern flicker. Yes, I’m still waiting for the evening grosbeaks to arrive. 

Yellow-bellied sapsuckers breed throughout New England and up into Canada, but they are perhaps the most migratory of our woodpeckers. They leave in September or October for southern U.S., Central America or the West Indies. I have read that an increasing number are staying in New England for the winter, particularly the southern part of the region. 

Northern flickers are also migratory, but again, some remain here all winter. That is in contrast to our other woodpeckers—downy, hairy, pileated and red-bellied—which are year-round birds here. Black-backed woodpeckers of the north are also non-migratory.

While I was surprised to see the sapsucker the other day, I probably shouldn’t have been. I mentioned nemesis birds in a column a few weeks ago and noted that evening grosbeaks and owls are among mine. I should have mentioned American woodcock as well. Nemesis birds are those that elude you regardless of how hard you try to find them. 

For me, yellow-bellied sapsuckers are the opposite. I hope I don’t jinx myself by writing this, but I see a lot of them. I see them on my walks, in my backyard, and now, at my feeders. This wasn’t the first one I saw this winter either. I spotted one on the Christmas Bird Count and another on a recent walk in the woods.

The only problem with seeing a lot of yellow-bellied sapsuckers is that I have to explain that they are indeed real birds. It’s not just a funny-sounding name that was made up for a scene in The Honeymooners so many years ago. (Check it out on YouTube if you’ve never seen it.)

Birdwatching is full of surprises, whether on a walk in the woods or watching the feeders. The usual suspects are enough to keep me interested, but the surprises add a little oomph to the hobby.

Howling at the moon

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Photo by Chris Bosak- The statue wolves howling at the moon at Huntington State Park, Redding, CT, January, 2026.

The main entrance to Huntington State Park in Redding, Connecticut, features really cool statues of wolves and a bear.

I had only my phone camera with me last evening, but I couldn’t resist taking this photo at dusk of the wolves seemingly howling at the moon.

For the Birds: Great Backyard Bird Count is coming

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Photo by Chris Bosak
A red-shouldered hawk perches on a branch during a snowy day in New England, January 2026.

It should come as no surprise that birdwatching is growing in popularity, according to several studies and other metrics. It had been gaining in popularity for years, but the pandemic greatly accelerated the movement.

As I researched the Great Backyard Bird Count for this column, I was surprised at how much birdwatching had gained in popularity, at least as it is measured by the number of GBBC participants.

In the last 10 years, which is basically a blink of an eye, the number of people participating in the count has exploded. In 2016, roughly 164,000 people did the count. In 2025, last year’s count, roughly 838,000 people participated. That is an amazing increase.

There are several reasons for the increase other than birdwatching simply becoming more popular, although that certainly is a main factor.

The GBBC started as a North American project to have people count birds in the winter as a way to track bird populations over time. It is now a global phenomenon with birdwatchers from nearly every country participating. 

It is also much easier to participate and submit results. Not long ago, results were submitted by hand using a checklist. Then the internet came along and results were submitted through a website. Now, most lists are submitted via eBird or Merlin. In fact, if you have an eBird account, any list submitted during the GBBC timeframe is automatically entered into the GBBC database. 

The organizations behind the GBBC—Cornell Lab of Ornithology, National Audubon Society, Birds Canada and founding sponsor Wild Birds Unlimited—have also done a great job with marketing the event, which also helped to build participation numbers.

As the count’s popularity grows globally, obviously the number of species recorded grows as well. In 2016, just under 5,700 species were counted worldwide. Last year, just over 8,000 species were recorded. 

Any guesses as to which country had the most participants last year? How about which country recorded the most species? 

The answer to the first question is, not surprisingly, the United States, followed by Canada and India. 

The answer to the second question is Colombia, with 1,374 different species recorded, followed by Ecuador, Brazil and India. Many countries in South America and Central America were in the top 10. Again, not surprising considering the climate and time of year. Asia and Africa were well represented in the second 10.

The United States was 12th with 670 species counted last year. Warm states such as Texas, Arizona and Florida accounted for the bulk of the species. New Hampshire birders recorded 111 species last year. Having a coastline provides a boost to that number. For comparison, Vermont had 96 species recorded. 

Why am I going on and on about the Great Backyard Bird Count? Because it’s coming up soon and anyone can participate. And it’s free. Simply count birds and submit the results through eBird, Merlin, or birdcount.org. The results are entered into a massive database of birds that helps to track population trends of bird species.

The 29th annual GBBC will be held February 13-16. You don’t need to be an expert or be out all day. Look for birds, whether in the woods, on a boat or looking at your feeders, for at least 15 minutes and share the results with the world. More information is available at birdcount.org.

While you’re at it, you may as well participate in New Hampshire Audubon’s Backyard Winter Bird Survey, which takes place February 14 and 15. It is a statewide citizen science project similar to the GBBC, whereby birders of all skill levels watch birds at their feeders and submit results. Do an internet search for “NH Audubon Backyard Winter Bird Survey” for further details.

Let me know if you see anything interesting out there.

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

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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

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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: More winter bird sightings

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Photo by Chris Bosak
A northern flicker drinks from a birdbath in New England, December 2025.

Last week, I wrote about the evening grosbeak and the various sightings that have occurred throughout New England.

This week, I want to turn the attention to some of the other sightings and questions that have reached my inbox recently. I appreciate hearing from others and what they are seeing at their feeders and in the wild.

Continue reading →

For the Birds: Evening grosbeaks on the move

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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.

Continue reading →

For the Birds: Another successful Christmas Bird count

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Female harlequin duck, Christmas Bird Count 2025, Stamford, Connecticut.

I’ve participated in the Christmas Bird Count in all types of weather.

I can recall bitter cold days, unusually warm days, pouring rain, sleet, light snow and blustery snow squalls. Once a date is set far in advance, it is usually held on that day regardless of the weather. 

This year, the count I did with my friend Frank in southern New England took place in a wet snow that accumulated before our eyes. It made for beautiful scenery but also frozen fingers and toes, damp clothing, steamed optics and fewer birds than usual. 

Continue reading →