August 19

On August 19th I set out early in the morning to start the first day of fall migration monitoring at Haldimand Bird Observatory’s Hurkman’s Farm. The morning was cool, hazy and cloudy but there were a few birds to be caught. Mostly local summer residents, but a few migrants at the end.

I noted at least 8 Bobolinks flying over, which gave me hope for my new project that I would be starting the next day to monitor Bobolinks as they migrate south, like some other banding stations have been starting to do.

Cathy from Haldimand Stewardship and George from the Niagara Bee Group visited mid-morning to meet and take a nutritional sample of the Prairie Grasses. They were both exceptionally pleased with the progress made and gave much praise to HBO for our dedicated work for conservation and education.

Banded 14:
2 Least Flycatcher
2 Black-capped Chickadee
2 House Wren
1 Song Sparrow
2 Swamp Sparrow
2 Common Yellowthroat
3 Indigo Bunting

Recaptured 7

A young male RTHU that was captured and released.

A second year male INBU in active ff moult. You can see at least three generations of feathers in this image.

August 20

On the 20th of August, the weather was much sunnier, although still chilly in the morning. The strong North winds the night prior pushed a handful of migrants onto the property, a few of which found their way into our nets. Early in the morning we opened the newly placed Bobolink net situated on the path through the prairie grasses, and started a playback that would continue through the morning. Almost instantly we saw a Bobolink fly in, so we quickly left the area with our hopes high of capture.

In terms of the migration nets, the morning was productive for both numbers and species. We were delighted to catch two migrant warbler species – a young Magnolia Warbler and a young Northern Waterthrush – as well as an adult Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, and five hatch-year Rose-breasted Grosbeaks all captured from the same net.

Just at dawn, we were delighted by droves of blackbirds leaving from their roosting area to the east of the property, and we estimated about 1000 of them, mostly Common Grackles. A pair of Sandhill Cranes gave us excellent views as the flew and called over the prairie field mid-morning. We observed 50 species the whole morning which is quite impressive for this time of year.

Back to the Bobolinks! We captured 10 in total for the morning and observed a total of 50, many of which were sitting around the net at the first net check. Ideally, we will add another net with the current one to increase our rate of capture. As they are a species at risk in decline due to habitat loss, monitoring Bobolink migration could be a very valuable program for Haldimand Bird Observatory to facilitate. With any luck, some of the attracted Bobolinks will return in the spring to nest in the prairie field.

Banded 30:
1 Warbling Vireo
1 Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
1 House Wren
1 Carolina Wren
1 Gray Catbird
1 Song Sparrow
3 Swamp Sparrow
10 Bobolink
1 Baltimore Oriole
1 Northern Waterthrush
1 Common Yellowthroat
1 Magnolia Warbler
5 Rose-breasted Grosbeak
2 Indigo Bunting

Recaptured 1

The first migrant warbler captured of the season, a HY MAWA – photo by AN

Below, An assortment of Bobolink images by KDC. Notice the very long claws which many grassland birds sport for ease of gripping grasses and navigating uneven ground.

Keira with a young male Grosbeak! – SGS

Sarah Sharp

Lowville, April 7
We had an awesome first day of banding at Lowville with a total of 27 birds caught (18 banded and 9 recaptured). For an early season day we had a decent number of birds and good diversity. The highlight was a Sharp-shinned Hawk! Although we get a fair number of them moving through during migration, it is rare that we catch these small forest hawks. But it does happen on occasion, and wow what a fantastic surprise it was to find him in the net! What a great way to kick off the season!
~Ashley Jensen

April 7
Banded:
3 American Goldfinch
1 Golden-crowned Kinglet
1 American Tree Sparrow
2 Black-capped Chickadee
4 Slate-colored Junco
4 Song Sparrow
2 Fox Sparrow
1 Sharp-shinned Hawk

Recaptures:
5 Black-capped Chickadee
1 Eastern Phoebe
1 White-breasted Nuthatch
1 Blue Jay
1 American Robin

TOTAL: 27 (18 banded & 9 recaps)

Fox Sparrows

American Tree Sparrow

Sharp Shinned Hawk (After Second Year Male)

Sharp-Shinned Hawk

April 9
Banded:
5 American Goldfinch
2 Black-capped Chickadee
1 American Tree Sparrow
4 Song Sparrow
1 Hermit Thrush
2 White-throated Sparrow

Recaps:
9 Black-capped Chickadee
2 Song Sparrow
2 White-throated Sparrow

TOTAL: 28 (15 banded, 13 recaps)

April 10 and 11, 2022 : A Diversity of Birds and Birders
On Sunday, April 10th I set out to band with David Brewer, Liam Thorne and Sam Lewis. David is a Master Bander, who has made countless and notable contributions to the conservation of birds and probably needs no introduction. Liam is in Grade 8 and Sam is in Grade 9 and represent two of our young and keen birders. I confidently predict that our young volunteers, including these two boys, will one day become movers and shakers in the field of bird and wildlife conservation.
The weather was less than ideal. Shortly after opening we had to close the nets due to heavy snow. Thankfully, the snow disappeared, and warming temperatures allowed us to safely reopen. What with the migration just getting underway and the mid-morning closure we didn’t expect large numbers of birds. Nevertheless, we did experience a lovely variety of species including:
1 Black-capped Chickadee,
1 Winter Wren,
1 Song Sparrow,
3 Golden-crowned Kinglets (all male),
1 Brown Creeper, and
1 American Goldfinch.

We also recaptured:
1 Black-capped Chickadee,
1 Northern Cardinal,
1 Hermit Thrush

That makes for a grand total of 11 birds, with 8 banded and 3 recaptured, representing a total of 6 different species.

Hermit Thrush

Interestingly, the Hermit Thrush had a lot of fat on him. We suspect he was using the Lowville area as a staging ground to fuel up for further travel up north.

On Monday, April 11th, I returned to band with Ashley Jensen, Dave Maida, Patti Murphy and four more women I met through birding walks at the Royal Botanical Gardens. Ashley, our Bander-in-Charge, has 10 years of banding experience and completed a Masters in Ruffed Grouse population genetics. Dave had a career in forestry management and has been a banding volunteer since 2017. He is also an HBO Council Member. Patti has been practicing veterinary medicine for 32 years, and with retirement around the corner, she is interested in learning to become a scribe.
At 8 am, Pat Turner, Barb Dermott, Suzanne Batchelor, and Judi Dunn arrived. Pat is a former banker and risk management analyst for Bank of Montreal. Barb is a former retail manager and a marketing and communications specialist. Suzanne is a former chemical analyst for Environment Canada and Judi is a former warehouse manager for Hyundai. This was their first time at the Lowville Banding Station to experience songbird banding.
The day’s weather brought a welcomed contrast from the day before with warmer temperatures and blue skies. Again, the bird numbers were somewhat low, but with local and early migrant representation, we enjoyed much diversity.

We banded 18 birds:
7 Golden-crowned Kinglets,
3 American Goldfinches,
1 Slate-coloured Junco,
1 Song Sparrow,
2 White-throated Sparrows,
1 Fox Sparrow,
1 Cedar Waxwing, and
1 Northern Cardinal.

We also recaptured:

4 Black-capped Chickadees,
1 Downy Woodpecker,
1 White-breasted Nuthatch and
1 Carolina Wren.

We had 25 birds altogether representing 12 species. The recaptured birds could all very well be local to the area. The White-breasted Nuthatch was a healthy female aged as an “After Second Year” (ASY). This means the bird is at least 3 years old but could be more. When she was released, she flew up into a nearby tree to rejoin her mate who appeared to be waiting for her there. Interestingly, her mate was recaptured a few days back and he is also a healthy “After Second Year” bird. They could very well be a long-standing couple. Once reunited, they instantly began chattering. We could not help but imagine that they were sharing their banding stories and were especially happy to be reunited. The exchange lasted only a few seconds and then they were back to the important activities of the day, foraging and family planning. We all stood and watched this endearing reunion in awe.

Cedar Waxwing

The special lesson of the day was ageing and sexing a Cedar Waxwing. One of the key characteristics, among others used, was the 8 red appendages indicating that this bird was an after second year (ASY) bird, according to Pyle.

These two days provided a chance to pay close attention to some key local and early migrant birds, each with their own story and unique characteristics. Our banders and visitors, also each with a unique background and life experience, converged here, at the Lowville Banding Station, to share their fascination and deep passion for birds. The bird numbers were low, but the diversity of life was exceptional.
By Catherine Manschot, Volunteer, Lowville Banding Station

As I’ve tried to point out in the last couple of postings, migration is a difficult time for birds. Mortality is high especially with estimates as high as 80% of young (Hatch Year) songbirds don’t survive their first year. I just finished a paper whose authors studied populations of Black-throated Blue Warblers both on their breeding grounds and in their wintering grounds. As the birds stay in place once they reach these areas they are referred to as their “stationary periods”. The authors noted that “apparent mortality rates were at least [italics mine] 15 times higher during migration compared to that in stationary periods and more than 85% of apparent mortality in [Black-throated Blue Warblers] occurred during migration.” And similar findings could be made for most songbirds.

Still, every Spring colourful migrants show up speeding their way to nesting grounds. So some are successful. For these birds everything fell into place: good nutrition at the right times; predator avoidance; sustaining and restorative resting/feeding areas on route; good weather and helpful winds; a patch of desired habitat when they made it home.

Sometimes birds do the right thing, elements are falling into place and they should be successful but meet with…how else can I describe it…simply, bad luck.

I have been aboard the CCGS Hudson for the past month doing AZMP surveys in the lower St. Lawrence River and Gulf of St. Lawrence. [AZMP stands for Atlantic Zone Monitoring Program and consists of comprehensive oceanographic surveys in the Canadian Atlantic.] We were just finishing our area – the Quebec Zone (there are a number of zones in Canadian waters) – and were about to enter the bay surrounding Sydney, Nova Scotia when we “got the call”: there was a vessel in distress about 250 nautical miles (NM) out in the open Atlantic SE of Newfoundland.

The Hudson wears two hats: it’s a research platform for Oceanography (Beford Institute of Oceanography, Department of Fisheries and Oceans, and several others) and it’s a coast guard vessel with SAR (Search and Rescue) responsibilities. SAR takes precedence over research. As soon as we got the call the vessel made a hard turn to port and we were headed offshore steaming at 14 knots, pounding into 4-6 meter waves. [I still did my counting but it’s awfully hard to see birds through salt spray pelting the windows.] Just after midnight we came up with the ship – Fishin Fionnatic (pronounced Fanatic) – a small (15 m.) fishing boat that had been hit by a “rogue” wave and had its port side windows stove in. The crew had been able to clear the lower decks of water and it was able to putt along under its own steam at a steady 7 knots. Even so, we escorted it all the way into Canso. That was bad luck. But the boat wasn’t migrating….

However, when we were still 73 nautical miles east of Canso I watched a BALTIMORE ORIOLE fly onto the ship from over open water. It stayed on the vessel, hunkered down under some machinery, obviously resting, head back under its wing. Shortly before it got dark, when we were still 23 NM from shore, I saw it fly toward the back of the ship but never saw it again after that. I didn’t find it on the deck the next morning. So it likely flew away from the ship…whether it was successful reaching shore I can’t say. But, to me, this was a case of a migrant (orioles winter in Central America) running into some bad luck. There had been a big storm, a low pressure system with counter-clockwise winds, on the eastern seaboard of the U.S. I’m guessing (but am pretty sure) that this bird got caught up in the storm as it was flying south and was sucked up and blown well to the north before it found our “island”. Just another of the trials that migrating birds must endure. And with the climate changing as it is, birds will be experiencing more of them.

Balitmore Oriole, lost at sea

Baltimore Oriole, lost at sea

The big blow, which started during the night of October 17th, was over; the violent SE winds, which at one point hit 60 knots, had subsided to 10-13 knots; and the 4-5 metre swell was flattening out. We were headed N in a big open stretch of the Gulf of St. Lawrence – if you put a dot in the middle of the ocean bordered by the east end of Anticosti Island, the west coast of Newfoundland and the north shore of Quebec….there we’d be. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed an UNPA (Unidentified Passerine) fly to the ship from the west and circle around to the back of it. When I took a break from the bridge I went to see if I could find it. Maybe it had taken a look and kept going….

I came upon it on the stern deck hopping around looking for something to eat amidst a number of heavy wire mesh bins holding equipment – a Blackpoll Warbler. Sadly, insects were few and far between after the big blow. Undaunted it kept searching. I returned to the bridge and never saw it again. Maybe it succumbed to starvation and hypothermia hidden away in the ships’ gear; maybe, finding no food, it kept going; and if it did, maybe it made it to land….or maybe it didn’t.

I’m not sure what paper(s) I got this from but I’ve read that around 80% of small songbirds don’t make it to their first birthday. 80%! I used to think that was terribly high. But, when you give it some thought, maybe it’s a miracle that it’s not higher. Take this little warbler. Let’s assume that it was a young one, hatched this past Summer in the boreal forest 200 km to the north (could have been more, could have been less). First of all, it would have to survive 12 or so days as an egg without a predator noticing its parents building a nest and then sitting on the eggs. Then it would have to survive another 12 or so days as a nestling, rapidly growing feathers to the point it could effectively thermoregulate and based on its parents ability to find the food necessary for this growth and deliver it furtively enough that the nest wasn’t detected. And then, upon leaving the nest, it would spend a week or so moving with the parents, being fed but also learning how to forage until the parents cut them loose to pursue their own destiny – complete moult of all feathers and then migration. At this point the young bird would also moult – but not completely, mostly body feathers and some wing coverts. And it would begin to move around the natal area (and beyond) – “disperse” – familiarizing itself with the area so that it would recognize “home” and identify some future possible nesting sites when it returned. And it would have to do all this while feeding itself and recognizing and avoiding predators. (At the dispersal stage, young birds are often clumsy fliers and an easy target for avian predators.)

So….lots of early hurdles but let’s assume that the bird makes it. Now the big challenge begins: it gets the urge for going, to make that epic flight from the boreal forest to the southern Maritimes/New England and then, flying NONSTOP across the Atlantic to South America. For this particular bird the first significant hurdle would be the crossing of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. For this bird to be where it was when I came upon it a number of explanations might be proferred: it started it’s crossing from the N shore the previous might, before the storm, and got blown backwards; it was making the crossing across Cabot Strait (between Newfoundland and Cape Breton) and got blown back to the NW. In both of these scenarios the bird found itself out over open water, running out of fuel, and the ship was an “island” that it sought refuge on. Another alternative was that it headed out when the storm started to abate – so a late morning take-off – landed on the ship for some respite and then took off again. This last option is a bit of a stretch if you consider that most songbirds fly at night. But it was getting late in the year and maybe the urge to go overcame the need to fly at night. Remember, I had seen a variety of songbirds a few days before heading across Chaleur Bay and I’ve seen warbler diurnal migration across the St. Lawrence in May at Tadoussac – diurnal migration in songbirds may be more common than we think.

Just for the heck of it, let’s imagine that this particular Blackpoll took off after a brief respite on the ship and carried on to the N shore of Nova Scotia. At this point it would have to find places to shelter and, especially, to feed, to recoup the significant energy it took to make the crossing in adverse conditions and to prepare for the flights to come. It would also have to be on the look-out for predators – accipiters move with migrating songbirds to take advantage of this flying buffet heading south.

Now the bird would have to make its way S to a place it could fatten quickly possibly changing the majority of its diet to berries (dogwood berries are particularly attractive as they have a relatively high lipid content). This would entail flights totalling several hundred more kilometers to get to the “jumping off place”. Here, after putting on a lot of fat, in many cases doubling its weight in about 2 weeks, the bird is ready and waiting for the “right” weather system, one that will provide assistance to lift its considerable bulk off the ground and push it SE until it meets up with the NE trade winds which will blow it over to South America – if the trade winds stopped for some reason the birds would simply keep flying SE until they ran out of fuel somewhere far out over the ocean.

I doubt very much that birds “feel” joy but after 80+ hours in the air over a hostile watery environment you might infer a feeling of, at least, relief…..It’s been a struggle but the bird has made it to its Winter home where it will have to find its way: identify food sources and recuperate, avoid predators, and simply get by until the urge for going in the Spring starts up.
Now, think of all those steps. There are so many things that could go wrong and impact the journey: predators along some parts of the route; contrary winds/weather systems – more so now with climate change variables; a poor growing season resulting in a lack of food for fattening; urban/suburban development limiting feeding and sheltering areas in the north; habitat loss limiting available territories in the wintering areas. And this is just half of the yearly cycle for this species.

Is it any wonder that 80% don’t make it back?