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.

There is also a thing in birding called a “nemesis bird.” Again, it is not a species of bird, but rather a bird that always seems to elude a birder. For instance, I see dozens of owl photos and read dozens of owl reports on Facebook and elsewhere on the internet, but I rarely see owls myself. I see the very occasional barred owl, but that’s about it.

I also have a nemesis feeder bird. It’s the evening grosbeak, a large yellow, white and black finch with a stocky bill. It’s not that the evening grosbeak is a common feeder bird in New England, but they do venture throughout New England enough, particularly in the winter, that in all my years of feeding birds, I figure I would have seen them at least once.

I have seen them a few times in the wild in northern New Hampshire, but never at my feeders. I’ve hosted siskins, purple finches, red-breasted nuthatches, indigo buntings, rose-breasted grosbeaks and a few warbler species, but never an evening grosbeak.

Evening grosbeaks are part of the Winter Finch Forecast, an annual prediction (based on food supply up north) of what birds may be heading south. Birds such as siskins, redpolls, crossbills, and grosbeaks visit New England sporadically in winter, and the people who run the Winter Finch Forecast try to predict each fall which birds to look out for in the winter.

This year’s forecast called for a strong irruption of several bird finch species. An irruption is when a species of bird visits New England and points south in higher than usual numbers in the winter. The evening grosbeak is one of those birds.

Although I haven’t seen any yet this year (of course), I have received several reports of people seeing evening grosbeaks at their feeders. Mike Quinn, an old friend I’ve known since the mid-1970s, sent me a text recently asking if I could identify a bird that was at his feeder. Naturally, it was a pair of evening grosbeaks. Mike lives in Ticonderoga, N.Y., near the Vermont border. His feeder cam photo accompanies this column.

Moira from western Maine also sent in a photo of an evening grosbeak pair at her feeder. Susan from Nelson, N.H., emailed to say she had six to eight evening grosbeaks visiting daily for about a week. She added that it’s been about 10 years since she last saw them. Her grosbeaks were eating sunflower seeds and nyjer.

But it doesn’t end there. Gene from Plymouth, N.H., had an evening grosbeak at his feeder and noted “the most striking thing was the brilliant yellow stripe above the eye.” Phil Brown, the compiler for the Keene Christmas Bird Count, noted that birders found two evening grosbeaks on count day, which was held on December 14.

Evening grosbeaks are out there this winter and perhaps heading your way. Watch those feeders for stocky yellow birds vaguely reminiscent of overgrown goldfinches. If they do arrive, drop me a line and let me know. Then send them my way.

For the Birds: Another successful Christmas Bird count

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. 

It was still a great day, don’t get me wrong, but there were challenges. Birders are a determined, resourceful, and hardy bunch, though, and we made it work.

The day got off to a good start. The first spot we looked was a small, half-frozen river that feeds into Long Island Sound. Hooded mergansers and buffleheads, mostly females, swam in the water. Then Frank, who is a far superior birdwatcher than I am, noticed something different about one of the female “buffleheads.”

“Is that a harlequin duck?” he asked. “I think that’s a harlequin duck.”

Of course, as soon as he said it, the duck in question dove under the water. When it reappeared with the two female buffleheads it was swimming with, I did notice the subtle differences between the species. We studied it a bit longer and determined that it was, in fact, a harlequin duck. 

Female buffleheads, a common occurrence in southern New England during the winter, are dark overall with a single white spot on their cheeks. The other bird was a bit larger, and the main white spot on the cheek was set back a bit farther, and there were other white patches closer to the bill above and below the eye. Indeed a female harlequin duck. 

If you do an internet search for harlequin duck, the majority of the images that appear will be of the male harlequin duck. They are one of the most strikingly colored and decorated ducks around. Like most duck species, however, females are much more plain in appearance.

Christmas Bird Count participants are tasked with counting every bird they see so the database gives an accurate representation of bird populations over time. But, whether they admit it or not, the birders are hoping to find unusual or even rare birds. We hit on one of them five minutes into our count.

I did manage to get a photo to verify the sighting, but the heavily falling snow and gray day made for tough conditions. A very average (or below) photo may be found on my website, www.birdsofnewengland.com

After a beautiful but rather unproductive walk through a field and nearby woods, we checked out a nearby beach. Visibility was poor, so we didn’t see many ducks on the water, but a lone snow bunting flew overhead, giving us another somewhat unusual bird.

We then followed reports of a greater white-fronted goose and indeed found three of them in one of the spots it had been previously reported. 

For me, I appreciate the common birds as much, if not more than, the unusual or rare birds. With that in mind, other highlights included a huge flock of robins in a stand of cedar trees, a snow-covered great blue heron on the shoreline and watching the snow gather on the backs of the hooded mergansers we saw on the river.

The Christmas Bird Count is always a highlight of the year. This year was no exception. 

Northern flicker at birdbath

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

I looked out and saw that the water in the birdbath was a solid block of ice. I poured in enough warm water that the ice broke free, so I tossed the frozen block onto the ground and filled the bath with warm water. Within 10 minutes, a northern flicker arrived and took a few sips. What a design on this bird.

Snowy Christmas Bird Count

Great blue heron in snow, Christmas Bird Count 2025, Stamford, CT.

It was that type of day for the Christmas Bird Count today (Sunday, Dec. 14, 2025). Frank and I did the Cove area of Stamford (Connecticut) and nearby Darien.

The heavy snow in the morning kept many of the land birds hidden, but many of the water birds were still around, braving the elements. A few highlight species were: harlequin duck (one female), greater white-fronted goose, killdeer, yellow-bellied sapsucker, and snow bunting.

Photo by Chris Bosak
Hooded mergansers in the snow, Christmas Bird Count 2025, Stamford, Connecticut.
Female harlequin duck, Christmas Bird Count 2025, Stamford, Connecticut.
Three greater white-fronted geese with one Canada goose, Christmas Bird Count 2025, Darien, Connecticut.

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.

The sheer number of broad-winged hawks was the main thing that jumped out at me as I looked at the data last week. Nearly 6,000 of the 8,500 hawks counted during the 2025 fall migration at Pack Monadnock were broad-winged hawks. To me, it was a bit surprising, as I see red-tailed hawks and red-shouldered hawks all the time, but I rarely see broad-winged hawks.

As a quick reminder, “hawkwatch” in this sense includes eagles, ospreys, falcons and vultures as well.

Julie and Phil explained that broad-winged hawks tend to be more elusive during the breeding season and that they more readily form flocks for migration than other raptors. While most hawks pass over the mountain as one or two birds at a time, broad-winged hawks pass over in huge numbers on certain days.

“They are responsible for a lot of the magic of hawkwatches,” Julie said. “Many people say broad-winged hawks are what got them hooked on hawkwatches.”

While the broad-winged hawk migration is truly a spectacle, with as many as 3,000 or more seen on a single day, it is very time specific. September 14-20 is the sweet spot when nearly all of the broad-wingeds pass through. Phil said many people take the entire week off from work to not miss the right day.

Mark your calendars for the middle of next September and keep your eyes out for a forecast that calls for light or variable winds from the north (or northeast or northwest), particularly following a cold front.

As remarkable as 3,000 birds in a single day is, Julie pointed out that critical hawkwatching sites such as Veracruz, Mexico, can get hundreds of thousands of broad-winged hawks in a single day.

I had a similar question about sharp-shinned and Cooper’s hawks, smallish but fierce hawks that often terrorize birdfeeders. While we tend to see more Cooper’s hawks in our daily lives, sharp-shinned hawks far outnumber Cooper’s hawks on counts. Cooper’s hawks have adapted much better to suburban and urban areas, and many overwinter in New England.

Differentiating between these accipiters often leads to debate, as the species are very similar in appearance. Cooper’s hawks are generally larger, but size is not a reliable determining factor. Even experts debate which bird they are looking at.

Seeing one of these hawks from a distance during a hawkwatch makes for an easier identification, Phil said, as their wing-flapping cadence and other behaviors are reliable differentiators.

Despite the seemingly high numbers of sharp-shinned hawks that are counted on hawkwatches, the Browns said the species is in decline. Phil said sharp-shinned hawks, goshawks, American kestrels and northern harriers do not get the attention they deserve for their decline.

Julie said rodenticides are a major factor in the decline of many hawks, and wildlife rehabilitators are often overwhelmed by the number of poisoned hawks that are brought in. Many people who use rodenticides do not realize the consequences, she said, and education is important in reversing the trend.

“It’s so preventable,” she said.

To end on a positive note (it is the holiday season, after all), the Browns actually met during a hawkwatch on Pack Monadnock in 2006. Julie was a seasonal hawk counter for New Hampshire Audubon, and Phil worked for New Hampshire Audubon at the time. They met on the mountain and got to talking about their love of nature and the boreal forest. Their main goal that day was to see a golden eagle, and sure enough, one of the magnificent birds flew over.

Their wedding bands are adorned with etchings of a golden eagle and the profile of Pack Monadnock.

For the Birds: Breaking down hawkwatch season

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.

As of November 11, and according to hawkcount.org, overall numbers look good in 2025 at Pack Monadnock and outpace the number of hawks counted in 2024. It may be noted, however, that 2025 numbers are below the several years prior to 2024. With the official count season ending there on November 20, Pack Monadnock will end up with about 8,500 hawks counted for the fall.

The term hawk is used somewhat loosely here as the count includes hawks, eagles, ospreys, vultures and falcons. The hawks are counted by experts and volunteers who sit at the peak of Pack Monadnock and watch the birds soar in from the north. I’ve been to several hawkwatch sites and am always amazed at the skills of the official counters. They see and identify most of the birds long before the bird is even in view of most other people. 

Before reading on, can you guess what hawks are counted the most? Hint: One bird stands head and shoulders above the rest in terms of sheer numbers. Another hint: It’s not the red-tailed hawk, which I assume would be many people’s first guess. 

That bird is the broad-winged hawk. Of the roughly 8,500 birds counted at Pack Monadnock this fall, nearly 6,000 (5,821 to be precise) were broad-winged hawks. A distant second is the sharp-shinned hawk with 1,133. 

Simple math (even though I used a calculator) shows that broad-winged and sharp-shinned hawks account for more than 80 percent of the total birds counted. The number drops sharply again for the third-most-counted “hawk,” the turkey vulture, with 222 individuals counted. 

For all you stat geeks out there (like me), the next birds in line are American kestrel (196), Cooper’s hawk (190), osprey (167), bald eagle (159), red-tailed hawk (154) and northern harrier (121). Remember, these are not final numbers, but they will be pretty close.

Although “only” five golden eagles were counted, I’m sure each one elicited some oohs and aahs from the crowd. 

According to hawkcount.org, a page that aggregates hawkwatch sites across the country, a few New Hampshire schools performed mini-hawkwatches this September. Concord School District did a week-long program and counted, you guessed it, mostly broad-winged hawks. Turkey vultures were also counted in fairly high numbers.

Interlakes Elementary School in Meredith did a two-day count and found an impressive 1,350 broad-winged hawks, including 1,257 in a single day. Sharp-shinned hawks and turkey vultures were the next highest counts. 

The aptly named Hawk Mountain Sanctuary in Kempton, Pennsylvania, is perhaps the most well-known hawkwatch site in the East. Similar to Pack Monadnock, broad-winged hawks were the most numerous, accounting for 9,015 of the 13,436 overall birds counted. Sharp-shinned hawks were next with 1,530. 

If you missed this year’s hawk counts, mark your calendars for next year. You don’t want to miss mid-September, which is when the number of broad-winged hawks peaks. More than 3,000 broad-wingeds were counted on September 14 at Pack Monadnock. The conditions must have been right just on that day. October is a good month to see a variety of species, while things start to slow down by November.

The end of hawkwatching season means that winter is right around the corner. Winter may bring out a bah humbug from many, but it is also a great time for birdwatching, just in a different way.

More junco on goldenrod photos

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

Here are a few more photos of my experience with juncos in the goldenrod field recently. See the last “For the Birds” column for the whole story. On a side note, now you know what goldenrod looks like after the yellow flowers die off.

Thanks for your support of Birds of New England.com.

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

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.

I came to the part of the trail where it exits the woods and cuts through the middle of a smallish meadow, about the size of a football field. Like most meadows, it looks vastly different depending on the season. In the spring, it is lush green and the flowers, weeds and grasses seem to grow by the hour. In the summer and early fall, colorful blooms take over the scene, and the growth is so thick that the trail becomes impassable. I tried plowing through the trail once in the summer and was covered with ticks by the time I reached the other side. I’m not doing that again.

In the fall, after the goldenrod has faded but before winter applies its death grip, the field is a pleasing palette of subtle brown and yellow notes. Fall foliage from the woods and brushy areas around the perimeter of the meadow paints the background with vibrant shades of red, orange and yellow.

Such was the scene the other day when I entered the meadow. I immediately noticed a ton of bird activity among the browned grasses and weeds. A lone palm warbler flew off into the brush, and a small group of white-throated sparrows followed suit. But the juncos remained.

I got about 15 steps into the meadow and stopped. I looked around and realized I was surrounded by juncos. The little black or dark gray and white birds went about their business of eating goldenrod seeds while I took in the scenery. It was difficult to get an accurate count because many of the birds preferred to do their seed hunting toward the middle of the plant instead of the top. I would guess there were at least 30 juncos total in all directions from where I stood, some as close as 10 feet away.

Again, not quite like being surrounded in a kayak by whales, but I’ll take it any day. 

On top of everything else, it was a perfect late fall morning. It was about 50 degrees, enough to need a sweatshirt but nothing more, and light cloud cover kept the harsh sun at bay. As I get older, I am much more appreciative of moments like this. I was outdoors, the temperature was ideal (for me anyway), and dozens of birds surrounded me. 

In this day of virulent political division, social media dumpster fires, and animosity toward fellow man by so many, it’s nice to get lost in moments like these. Leave it to New England nature to provide the perfect escape.

For the Birds: Kinglets rule the walk

Ruby-crowned kinglet, fall 2025, Huntington State Park, CT.

Two species dominated my latest bird walk.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the white-throated sparrow was the most dominant species. I lost track of how many I had seen early in the walk as dozens of these beautiful native sparrows were around every bend.

The second-most dominant species may be a bit more surprising. While large groups of white-throated sparrows lingered around every corner, singular ruby-crowned kinglets kept me occupied on the straightaways.

They were constant companions during the walk. Little flashes of movement in the bushes or low branches of trees gave away their whereabouts. Not that they were trying to stay concealed, as they can be surprisingly tame for wild birds. 

Tame or not, close looks or not, ruby-crowned kinglets are notoriously difficult to photograph, as they are in constant motion, and predicting their next move is a crapshoot. If you see one that sits still for a full second, you’d better be prepared with the camera and not blow the opportunity. (I’ve blown innumerable opportunities, by the way.)

Then comes the real challenge: Getting a photo of one with their namesake crown exposed. Not only do you have to get a kinglet to sit still long enough for a photo, but the bird must be in an excited state. Ruby-crowned kinglets show their colorful crown only when they are unsettled. Otherwise, these birds are mostly olive colored with yellow and black wings and tails, and an eye ring that doesn’t quite make it all the way around the eye.

All the kinglet photos I managed to capture on this particular walk were without the crown exposed. (Although the photo at the top shows just a hint of the red crown.) In fact, in my entire photo collection going back many years, I have very few photos of kinglets with their crowns showing.

Golden-crowned kinglets, a sleeker and slightly more decorated cousin of ruby-crowned kinglets, are the same way. They are difficult to photograph because of their hyperactivity and display their crowns only when agitated. To me anyway, golden-crowned kinglets are even more difficult to photograph because I see far fewer of them than ruby-crowned kinglets.

Kinglets do not typically visit birdfeeders, but they may still be found in yards. Check flowerbeds with dead and dying flowers, as kinglets are often found close to the ground. They are most likely looking for insects and spiders to eat, but they do supplement their diet with seeds and berries. Flowers that linger deep into fall, such as sedum, are good candidates to attract ruby-crowned kinglets. For golden-crowned kinglets, check evergreen trees, particularly those thick with branches and needles.

Kinglets are New England’s smallest birds, apart from hummingbirds. What they lack in size, kinglets make up for in character. (Hummingbirds fit that bill as well.) They are high-energy, exceptionally fun to watch and numerous during certain times of the year. Kinglets may occasionally be found during the winter in New England, but most of them make a relatively short migration to southern U.S. or Mexico.

As a late migrant, the tiny kinglet adds a little pizzazz to a late fall walk.

Ruby-crowned kinglet, fall 2025, Huntington State Park, CT.

A few red-bellied woodpecker shots

Photo by Chris Bosak – A red-bellied woodpecker visits a feeding station in New England, Nov. 2025.

Here are a few photos of a red-bellied woodpecker, taken simply because it was a cool bird that visited my feeder today. Note the faint red on the belly, hence the name.

Photo by Chris Bosak – A red-bellied woodpecker visits a feeding station in New England, Nov. 2025.
Photo by Chris Bosak – A red-bellied woodpecker visits a feeding station in New England, Nov. 2025.