On the Wing

MONARCHS IN JANUARY???

2012-01-27T18:57:00.000-08:00

Over the holidays I took a day trip across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel to bird the southern tip of Virginia’s eastern shore. It was unseasonably warm and sunny, as much of our winter has been this year, and as I walked around the trails of the wildlife refuge I stumbled upon several overwintering butterflies, including one big surprise, a Monarch butterfly!

As most of us know, the Monarch population of the entire Eastern United States migrates to Mexico every fall. Millions of adult Monarchs overwinter there in huge “clusters” or colonies in the higher elevations of Mexico’s mountains. We’ve all seen pictures of these colonies, with layers and layers of butterflies hanging from the trees (photo below courtesy of http://goodnature.nathab.com/). These butterflies don't begin their northward migration back to North America until around March.

I had no idea that any Monarchs actually overwintered in North America, so I did a little research. It is indeed a rare occurrence, but a few adult Monarchs, for unknown reasons, do spend the winter here, mostly on the Gulf Coast. “Journey North,” a web-based citizen science program, has collected data from reports submitted to them by people like you and me who observe wildlife, and they found that over a 9-year period between 2002 and 2009, 242 reports of overwintering Monarchs (January-February) were submitted. Of these, predictably, 80% of the Monarchs were seen in Florida and Texas. Only one report, submitted in 2006, came from as far north as Virginia. That report came from a Virginia Beach couple who documented a Monarch that wintered in their garden between September 5 and March 6 of that year. (If you’d like to read the entire published article about this study, go to http://www.hindawi.com/journals/psyche/2010/689301)

I was not the only person to see Monarchs on the Eastern Shore over the holidays. Another birder who lives in Cape Charles reported seeing “many” on one of the warm days we had. I reported our sitings to Journey North, as anyone who sees a Monarch here in January or February should do. (http://www.learner.org/jnorth) What a great way for us “regular folks” to contribute to scientific study, especially in a year like this when the climate is out of whack!)

The other species of butterfly that I saw that day was the Clouded Sulphur (photo above), and I saw several. Sulphurs are known to overwinter here in our region in their adult, winged stage. They tuck themselves away into a protected spot where they are sheltered from the elements, and go into a torpid state during the cold months. On unusually warm winter days, they do sometimes emerge to fly and look for food sources.

This has been such a mild winter that many of the bird species that usually migrate here from more northern areas have not arrived in Virginia. Because of this year’s warmer weather, they have been able to find food sources in the north that are not usually available to them, and they have no need to continue their journeys further south. The reduced number of waterfowl in particular has been particularly evident this year; in the past I have seen thousands of Scoters and other sea ducks wintering in the waters along the Bay Bridge-Tunnel, but this year there have been only a handful.

On the other hand, some species that usually migrate to the south of us have stopped here this year for the winter because it is so mild. I'm certain that the weather is responsible for the higher-than-normal numbers of orioles, for example, that are being reported this winter. Last month I blogged about four Baltimore Orioles (photo of one of them, above) that were visiting my yard and my sugar water and grape jelly feeders; I'm please to tell you that they are still here, and the group has increased to at least six individuals! The only problem is that most days it's so warm that the honeybees are flying, and they compete with the orioles for the sugar water!

Last winter was bitterly cold and we had several snowstorms including the famous one that dropped 14 inches of snow on Chesapeake. This year it's so warm that bees are flying and some of my perennial flowers are actually blooming right now. I don't know what that means for the state of our planet, but it certainly makes for interesting and diverse wildlife watching year to year.

Addendum: I ran out of grape jelly for the orioles, so I put out some blackberry jelly that I had on hand. They emphatically rejected it! It's got to be grape, and Smuckers is their favorite!

December Birds in a Chesapeake Yard

2011-12-10T11:16:00.000-08:00

If you have birdfeeders in your yard and watch them day-to-day, you have already noticed the changes in bird species and populations from early to late autumn. Wintering sparrows like Dark-eyed Juncos and White-throated Sparrows are regular visitors now, but were absent just a month or two ago. Regular year-round visitors like the Cardinals and the Blue Jays hung out in breeding pairs and with their offspring during the spring and summer months, but now they gather in larger communal groups. Most of the Ruby-throated hummingbirds left our region by the end of September, as did the swallows and Chimney Swifts that fill our skies during the summer.

So what can you expect to see in your yard right now? I kept tally of the birds I observed in my back yard one day a week or two ago, and came up with 27 different species, without even going outdoors! Winter doldrums and the transition to dark, gray days obviously do not mean a drop in bird life; in fact in many cases, you will find more bird activity as food sources become scarcer and birds concentrate at your feeders.

My favorite visitors right now are, without question, a group of Baltimore Orioles that have taken up residence at my hummingbird feeders (the photo above is of the adult male, who arrived on November 21). These brilliant birds do not breed here on the Virginia Coastal Plain, so we only see them in migration as they pass through on their way to somewhere else. But, as I’ve now learned, a few southbound birds will stop and spend the winter in our region, usually in small flocks, and I am lucky enough to be hosting one of these flocks now.

I optimistically keep my hummingbird feeders full during the fall months, long after our resident hummingbirds have left, hoping to attract a rare vagrant species from the western states. Baltimore Orioles also drink the sugar water from these feeders, and that is what brought them to my yard. My one male adult bird soon evolved into a flock of four, so I hung out a second hummingbird feeder, and also bought a special Oriole feeder that holds sugar water and has a place to put out grape jelly, one of their favorite foods. So my yard has become a virtual smorgasbord for these guys, and they’re sticking around, much to my delight. I plan to buy a few warming devices to place near the feeders so that the water doesn’t freeze when temperatures drop.

This is either a female Baltimore Oriole, or a first-year male that has not developed his bright adult plumage yet. The two are very similar in appearance. Three of the orioles in my yard are in this plumage.

(This is the adult male Baltimore Oriole again, being cute).

Here are a few photos I’ve taken of other avian visitors to the yard this week. Most should look familiar, but some might be new to you:

This is a Red-bellied Woodpecker; it is probably the woodpecker you are most likely to see in your suburban yard. In most people's opinions, it is one of the most mis-named of all bird species. In the breeding season, the male does have a flush of red color on his belly, which is the root of its name, but that is certainly not the bird's most conspicuous field mark. In this photo, the bird is eating my peanut butter/cornmeal mixture, which is pressed into the holes of a cedar log feeder; this is wildly popular with the birds, especially woodpeckers and titmice. The recipe is four parts cornmeal mixed with one part each of white flour, chunky peanut butter and Crisco.

The second most likely woodpecker to visit my yard is the Downy Woodpecker, above. He is more likely to nibble on the suet cakes that I buy at the store than eat the the peanut butter mix. This particular individual is a male Downy; you can tell by the red patch on the back of his head. Females are identical to males but do not have this red marking.

If you put out a peanut feeder you will attract even more species of birds, like this male Pine Warbler. Pine Warblers usually visit my feeders only in the colder months, and they like to nibble from the peanuts as well as the suet and the peanut butter mix; all are sources of protein in harsh winter weather. I've started mixing shelled sunflower seeds with the shelled peanuts, as it seems to be easier for some birds, especially the smaller ones, to extract and eat the smaller seeds. Titmice, Chickadees, Nuthatches and Finches are just a few of the birds that eat from this feeder.

Of course when peanuts from the feeder drop to the ground, there's always a Blue Jay ready to swoop in and help himself to some easy pickin's.

There's a pair of Mockingbirds on every Chesapeake corner, but despite their "common-ness" I'm very fond of these guys. They are smart, busy, and always seem to have a purpose in mind. The ones in my yard are also very fond of me, as I'm the "big thing" that brings them the peanut butter mixture.

The Mockingbird's cousin, the Brown Thrasher (above) is an uncommon winter visitor to the yard. In the spring and summer they are quite common and conspicuous; they usually build a nest in my honeysuckle, and raise one or two broods. But they migrate south by October. The birds I sometimes see in the winter months are birds that migrated here from farther north. As you can see, Brown Thrashers like the peanuts too.

Of course, one of the perils of having a popular birdfeeder yard is that predators find it too. One family of hawks in particular, the Accipiters, prey upon small birds for their survival. They will be attracted to any area where they see a lot of bird activity, including suburban yards. There are two species of accipiter that you might see in your yard, and they look almost identical in appearance. The photo above is of an adult Sharp-shinned Hawk; his cousin the Cooper's Hawk is generally larger and a bit bulkier. I understand that predators are only following the course that nature has set for them when they hunt their prey, and I try not to interfere -- but I must admit, I chased one "Sharpie" out of the yard last week because I was worried about "my" orioles.

The more types of birdfeeders and food you put out, the more different kinds of species will come to your yard. Don't expect instant results, or be disappointed if no birds come right after you put a new feeder out; it takes them a while to find you, scope you out, and decide whether they are comfortable with your offerings. Once they decide to stay, more birds will follow their lead and join them.

BAD PICTURES

2011-11-11T14:01:00.000-08:00

I’ve been birding and photographing birds for more than twenty-five years now, with a few breaks here and there for graduate school and other life-changing events. Like all avid birders, I’ve always kept track of what birds I’ve seen and where and when I’ve seen them; I have life lists, state lists, county lists, yard lists – you get the idea. Recently I decided I also wanted to know how many different species of birds I have photographed over the years. I went through all my old slides, picked out the best one of each species I could find, and did the same with my digital photos. I tallied them all up and have determined that as of last month, I’ve photographed 475 species; #475 was a hard-to-photograph Saltmarsh Sparrow at Ragged Island Wildlife Management Area in Isle of Wight (photo above). It’s not a great photo, but it’s the best I could do and it’s good enough to document that I saw the bird and can verify its ID.

475 species photos is a pretty darn good number. Some of these are really good photos that I’m proud of (usually the ones you’ll see on my blog…), but I also have a mountain of what we call “record shots.” These are pictures of questionable quality but they do serve to verify your siting and identification of the bird. Most of the time birds do not sit still in good lighting and allow you to take a picture, so you just have to do the best you can with what the bird gives you, usually a split second to raise and focus your handheld camera while the bird is moving away from you into the shadows. If a species is common to your area, you have multiple opportunities to get a better photo. But if it’s a rare or out-of-place bird you’re trying to document, you might only get one chance in your lifetime to grab a photo.

I think the photo below must be my all-time bad “record” photo. An extremely rare bird called a Smew showed up in the middle of the Columbia River in Central Oregon in 1991, likely the only Smew I will ever see unless I go to Alaska or Russia. The Columbia is a very wide river, so this is as close as I could get to the bird – but I got my “record” shot! The Smew is the white bird in the middle of the other ducks. Pretty bad, huh?

Here’s another example of a situation where I could not get a good photo and had to settle for a record shot . Long-eared Owls are extremely difficult to find, even in places where they are relatively numerous. They are totally nocturnal and roost during the day in trees with heavy cover, right next to the tree trunk – in fact, they even “elongate” themselves when they feel they are in danger, making themselves skinnier and moving in tighter to the tree trunk, hoping to be more invisible. I have only seen two of these owls in my life, in heavy cover and impossible to photograph – but I did get my record shot:

Here’s another one. The Buff-breasted Flycatcher is a bird that you’ll only see in extreme southeastern Arizona (in the U.S.). I remember driving for miles into the higher elevations of the desolate Chiricahua Mountains searching for this species, and finally spotting one on her nest WAY high up in a tree. I snapped the best photo I could under the circumstances, and to this day this is the only Buff-breasted Flycatcher I’ve seen, and likely the only one I’ll ever photograph:

Last weekend a Ross’s Goose was reported in Cary, N.C. I have seen a number of these rare geese over the years, but they have typically been in a flock with other kinds of geese at least 100 yards away from me. The only photo I ever got of one (below) is a truly terrible photo, taken in the rain in Oregon with old camera equipment twenty years ago.

Several people have posted amazing, up-close gorgeous photos of the Cary goose, and I wanted to replace my terrible photo with one like theirs, so on my day off, I made the drive to Cary, about 3 ½ hours from Chesapeake (each way). By the time I got there, it was raining, and as it turned out, there was no goose to be seen.

A very nice lady named Jennifer lives right by the pond where the goose showed up in mid-October, and she is the one who spread the word to other birders. She happened to see me walking pitifully around the pond where the goose had been just the day before. She came out in the rain to commiserate with me, and invited me into her home to wait for a while and hope for the bird’s return. It continued to rain and the goose flock did not return, so after a while Jennifer showed me the gorgeous photos she had taken of the bird, displayed on her big screen television. This was as close as I got to the Ross’s Goose – this time.

I could entertain you with bad photo after bad photo, but I believe I’ll stop right here. The bottom line is that the opportunity to get a photo of a species I have not photographed before, or the chance to get a better photo of a species that I have previously photographed motivates me to get out of the house and go birding. It’s easy to stay at home and sit in the comfortable chair if you don’t think you’re likely to see anything new or “interesting” – but the opportunity to get a new or better photo drives me. I really want to replace some of the bad old photos, and if that goose returns to the pond in Cary, I’ll probably have to give chase.

Chincoteague and the Eastern Shore

2011-10-09T16:05:00.000-07:00

Chincoteague and the Eastern Shore hold a very special place in my heart, and not just because of the fantastic birding and wildlife watching. In September of 2001, my mother, who lives in Utah, was visiting me, and we decided to spend a night or two at Chincoteague. On the 11th we enjoyed a wonderful early morning of birding and then returned to our motel room to check out. The person at the service desk had her television on and told us that planes had crashed into each of the Twin Towers.

It took a while to make sense of that and make the connection in our brains that this was an act of terrorism, but once we did, we did what everyone in America was doing – listening intensely to every second of the news reports as if our lives depended on it. We sat there in my car at The Refuge Inn and listened to Peter Jennings on the radio as he told us live that the towers were collapsing. He talked about the Pentagon and said something about Pennsylvania; who could wrap their head around this stuff? You all know what I’m talking about; we all lived it and remember precisely where we were and who we were with on that day. I’m so glad I was with my mother.

I go to Chincoteague at least once or twice every autumn for the fall bird migration. Every time I drive through Onley I look at the motel where my Mom and I stayed the night of the 11th. Mom was afraid to cross the Bay Bridge-Tunnel to get back home, plus we were worried that it would be closed, so we stopped at the first motel we could find and planted ourselves in front of the television for the night. I look at the KFC when I drive through Onley because I remember we ate Kentucky Fried that night. And in Chincoteague I always give a nod to the Refuge Inn.

Last week, on September 29, I drove up the Eastern Shore to Chincoteague to see what migrant birds I could find. I spent the night in Chincoteague, a real splurge for me, so that I wouldn’t have to feel rushed. Here are just a few of the beautiful things I saw:

At the Eastern Shore of Virginia National Wildlife Refuge hawks were migrating south for the winter. The southernmost tip of the Delmarva Peninsula is one of the best places in the entire country to watch the hawk migration anytime between mid-September and the end of October. Thousands of hawks follow the coastline to navigate their way south during this time. The Delmarva Peninsula narrows from a wide body of land in the north to a small point at the southern tip, funneling these hawks into a concentrated area, where they are relatively numerous and easy for us to view. The hawks often stall here because they are reluctant to cross over the water to Virginia Beach, making for even better viewing for us.

The photos above are of Broad-winged Hawks. These migratory hawks breed to the north of us and in the mountains to the west of us, but not here in southeastern Virginia, so the only time we are likely to see them is during migration. These hawks migrate communally in “kettles” of anywhere from a handful of birds to many hundreds.

Other raptors that I saw that day included all three of “our” falcons (American Kestrel, Merlin, and Peregrine Falcons), both of the accipiters (Sharp-tailed Hawk and Cooper’s Hawk), many Osprey (photo above), Northern Harrier, and Bald Eagles among others.

At the back pond of the refuge, I saw about fifty Snowy Egrets gathered to feed before their flight south. Snowies are migratory waders, although I have seen a very few overwintering birds here. The individual in the photo above is of a juvenile Snowy Egret; you can tell this by the yellow "racing stripes" on the back of its legs. The adults have yellow feet but not this coloring on the legs.

Wintering sparrows have just started to return here. The Savannah Sparrow above is a somewhat plain little bird, but it was stunning in the morning light. One of the most useful field marks for this species is its yellow “lores,” the area right in front of the eye.

Common Green Darners, a large species of dragonfly, were everywhere, frantically breeding and laying their eggs before the temperatures drop. The adults will die very soon, but their eggs will survive to produce nymphs, which will emerge as adult dragonflies next year. The photo above is of a male; notice he has vivid green upperparts and a bright blue abdomen. Gorgeous!

I continued north to Chincoteague, and stopped at a little pullover along the causeway that is a reliable spot to see lots of American Oystercatchers at a low tide, when the oyster shoals are exposed. These stunning birds are true to their name, and use that enormous red bill to pry open oysters.

Everyone is familiar with the Great Blue Heron; less familiar is the Little Blue Heron (photo above). Little Blues are much smaller than the Great Blues, about the same size as the Snowy Egret. Their habitat preferences are in more secluded, less populated places, and you probably won’t see one at your neighborhood pond in the suburbs.

Many of the migrant tern species have already left Virginia by the end of September, but a walk on the beach south of Tom’s Cove produced Royal and Caspian Terns, our largest two terns. They are similar in appearance to new birders, but these photos show the differences between them in their winter plumages:

Note the Royal Tern's bright orange bill. The bill is slender when compared to the Caspian Tern's, below.

The Caspian Tern's bill is bright red, and heavier than the Royal Tern's. The bird is stockier and heavier looking overall than the more streamlined Royal Tern.

Chincoteague is where I remember most poignantly all the sadness and confusion of 9-11. But it’s also a place that is very healing. Nature is where I experience my version of spirituality, and even though the natural experience doesn't erase the evil and horror of that day, it serves as a balance or counterpoint to it that reminds me there is much that is good in the world.

Fall Bird Migration Is Underway! A Day at Bethel Beach

2011-08-31T11:40:00.000-07:00

Migrant birds fly north in the spring and south for the winter, right? You might be surprised to learn that the southbound fall migration for some birds actually begins in July, in the heart of what we in North America call “summer.” Most of these July migrants are of the shorebird family of birds. These earliest migrants are actually the adult shorebirds that migrated north in the spring to Canada or the Arctic to breed. Almost immediately after their young fledge, these same adults abandon them and begin their southward migrations. The young birds are left behind to fend for themselves for a few weeks and figure out for themselves how to survive and how and where to migrate! Most of the shorebirds we see after mid-August are these hatch-year birds, riding the second “wave” of migration after their parents. How they know where to go and how to get there is one of those profound miracles of nature.

The shorebird family is a very diverse one that includes species that range from the 4-5” sandpipers (also known affectionately by birders as “peeps”) to the 26” Long-billed Curlew. The Long-billed Curlew is a western species that we do not see here on the east coast; the largest shorebird that we’re likely to see here is the 19" Marbled Godwit. The photograph at the beginning of this blog entry is a Marbled Godwit; contrast this bird with the tiny Semipalmated Sandpipers, below.

Also conspicuous on the Virginia beaches in August is the tern migration. Terns are in the same family of birds as gulls, but are generally more sleek and streamlined than gulls are. Many species sport a black cap or crest in breeding plumage that fades away as fall approaches; they are much less striking in their winter plumage. Terns are the white birds that you see flying over bodies of water with their heads down looking for small fish, then diving straight down, bill first, to catch that meal. Terns come in all sizes too, from the 9” Least Tern to the 21” Caspian Tern.

From left to right: Sandwich tern (with the yellow bill tip), Forster’s Tern, and the orange-billed Royal Tern, which is almost as big as the Caspian.

I went to Bethel Beach on August 18 in hopes of finding some of these early fall migrants, and I was not disappointed. Bethel Beach is near the town of Matthews, on the Middle Neck of Virginia, on the west side of the Chesapeake Bay. Once you get to Bethel Beach you can walk southbound along the beach until you reach a sandy "hook" where the beach ends. At the end of this hook I found five different species of terns, and several species of shorebirds. I took all the photos in this blog entry on that day; here are some more:

The shorebirds above and below are Short-billed Dowitchers, migrants along our waterways. There is a Long-billed Dowitcher too, very similar in appearance to the Short-billed and it's often impossible to tell the two apart; contrary to the implication in their names, the bill sizes overlap and cannot usually be relied upon as the only identifier. You'll find dowitchers probing the mudflats and shallow waters with their long bills, looking for food.

One of the subfamilies of shorebirds is the Plovers. They are usually easy to tell apart from other shorebirds by their smallish size, very rounded appearance and very short bills among other things. They hunt by sight, rather than by feel, as longer-billed shorebirds like dowitchers do. Below is a common migrant along our coast, the Semipalmated Plover. A plover that you might be more familiar with is its "cousin" the Killdeer, which is a permanent resident throughout North America. Killdeers are larger than semipalmated Plovers and have two dark chest stripes instead of one; they are also famous for their "broken wing" display, which they perform as a distraction if they believe their chicks are threatened.

Semipalmated Plover at Bethel Beach

Killdeer for comparison with the Semipalmated Plover.

Here are two Least Terns; as mentioned above, they are our smallest Tern, measuring about 9" from tail tip to bill tip. They are a threatened species, mostly due to loss of habitat. They nest on open beaches and sandy places, where they have to compete with humans in a mostly losing battle for habitat. Fortunately there are some nature preserves that block human access during their breeding season, which allows the terns to successfully reproduce.

The medium-sized Sandwich Terns, below, also migrate down the Atlantic coast in August. These two at Bethel Beach are mostly in their winter plumage. Note their yellow bill tips; if you can get close enough to them to see this field mark, you can make a positive identification of this species.

The Seaside Dragonlet (below) is our only saltwater species of dragonfly, and at this time of year they are abundant along the beaches. The individual below is a female; note the numerous tiny stripes on her thorax. The adult male is entirely dark blue, almost blackish in appearance.

Bethel Beach was also a fantastic spot to see Ospreys and Bald Eagles, roosting in the nearby scrub and trees or soaring as they hunted for prey.

Osprey

This bird is not yet a fully-grown adult Bald Eagle; it takes eagles four years to acquire the all-white head and tail for which they are well known.

As we move into September, the numbers of shorebirds and terns will decrease as they continue south to their wintering grounds, but numbers of other kinds of birds will increase. One of the most anticipated times of year on the Virginia birder's calendar is September, when the bulk of songbirds migrate along our Atlantic Flyway. We will soon see orioles, tanagers, flycatchers, warblers, vireos and many others moving through, and one of the best places to witness this migration is along the southern tip of Virginia's Eastern Shore. Places like the Eastern Shore National Wildlife Refuge and Kiptopeke State Park are traditional hotspots where birders gather in the morning and hope for a "fallout" of these birds. By mid-September and well into October and even November, the hawk and eagle migrations will be at their peak. I will be out there for the next couple of months as often as my work schedule and my pocketbook allow, and I hope I will find a lot of good things to share with you. Until next time, take a little time to enjoy the bountiful nature and wildlife that we are so fortunate to have here, in and near Chesapeake.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes … and in your house, and your library, and….

2011-08-24T13:12:00.000-07:00

(Note: This blog was written before Hurricane Irene visited Hampton Roads)

On August 4, lightning struck in the Dismal Swamp and sparked the largest fire there since it became a national wildlife refuge. Over 6000 acres have burned to date, all of Hampton Roads have felt the effects of the heavy smoke and poor air quality. At this point, the fire is only about 15% contained, so I’m afraid we’ll be feeling its effects for some time yet. (Photo, above, courtesy of www.dailypress.com)

The fire in The Swamp is different from what most would picture to be a “typical” wildfire, in which furious flames rise upwards and spread outwards. Most of the current fire in The Swamp is a peat fire, which burns and smolders underground and creates a heavy, billowing yellow smoke. I read that some of the deepest peat fires burning right now are estimated to be six feet deep into the ground. And consider this: it takes 900 years for nature to create one single inch of peat! That’s a lot of centuries going up in smoke.

But this is the natural cycle, the way things are supposed to be. We all know that wildfires are a necessary element in the natural cycle of a healthy ecosystem, and somehow it makes me feel better that this fire started by natural means rather than by man’s carelessness or vandalism. (Knowing this does not, however, make the pervasive smoky air any easier to breathe.)

I did take a nature walk in The Swamp last week, along Washington Ditch. The air was smoky, but I still saw deer, birds, snakes and a few butterflies (photos of White-tailed Deer and Prothonotary Warbler, above). Of course I have no way of knowing if I would have seen more without the smoke, but I don’t think it had a large impact on the wildlife. Fish and Wildlife spokeswoman Catherine Hibbard was quoted in The Daily Press, saying “Wildlife at the 111,200-acre refuge, which includes bald eagles, deer, bobcats, rattlesnakes and at least 57 species of butterflies, should not be harmed.” Undoubtedly there are some casualties among the slower-moving creatures in places where the fire is in full flame or burns hot, but most wildlife is mobile enough to flee the most dangerous areas, and loss to overall populations should be minimal. This Spicebush Swallowtail (below) did not seem to be bothered by the smoke.

That is not the case, though, with the plant life. Until the 2008 fire, the Great Dismal Swamp was home to the largest population of the endangered Atlantic White Cedar trees (not the same as the common Red Cedars). After that fire, Fish and Wildlife teamed up with Christopher Newport University to replant 230,000 seedlings. All of those seedlings have been destroyed in the current fire. That makes me very sad, not only for the irreplaceable loss of the trees, but for the wildlife species that are biologically bound to these trees, like the rare Hessel’s Hairstreak butterfly (photo courtesy of www.duke.edu and Jeffrey Pippen). I have never seen one, and am not likely to away from the remaining stands of Atlantic White Cedars.

Everyone keeps saying that we need a good hurricane to extinguish this fire. I don’t care to go through another hurricane, so I don’t know which catastrophic natural event to pull for! I’ll just have to be reassured in the knowledge that Mother Nature is in charge and it’s her world; we’re just here for the short ride.

2011-07-21T15:26:00.000-07:00

Mid-summer in far southeastern Virginia is not my favorite time to go birding or butterflying, or to take nature walks. Oppressive temperatures and humidity become unbearable and biting insects, snakes and ticks become more troublesome. I’m willing to put up with these annoyances when there is a lot of bird activity to witness, but not so much when things are slower, as they generally are in the summer (compared to spring and fall). Last weekend I went on a butterfly walk at Back Bay, a place I love in the right season, but on a hot, stagnant day in mid-July there were lots of people but very few birds or butterflies, and all I came home with was a bad sunburn and a mediocre photo of a Cottonmouth (above)! Don’t get me wrong, there is wildlife to see, and the occasional summer rarity passes through, but at this time of year, I tend to do more critter-watching in my own yard than I do out in the wild places.

Over the last few years I have planted native plants in my yard that attract native wildlife, and honestly, I’m seeing more butterflies now visiting my yard than I see anywhere else. There are actually several species of Skippers that I have never seen anywhere except in my own yard. When you plant the right native plants in a concentrated area, you become an oasis in an otherwise biologically bare monoculture of lawns and non-native, exotic plants that do not sustain our native wildlife, and the critters will find you. And once they find you, they continue to return.

I like to raise and release butterflies. I find the caterpillars in my yard, house them in screen cages, and feed them until they go into chrysalis. They stay in the chrysalis stage in the cage until they emerge as adult butterflies; then I release them into my yard. In order to get caterpillars in your yard in the first place, you have to know which native plants the caterpillars eat; caterpillars of each species eat only certain kinds of plants. So if you learn what these plants are and plant them in your yard, you’re likely to attract egg-laying adults. Butterflies cannot reproduce in the absence of the host plant that they are biologically bound to; that’s why non-native plant species cannot support reproduction of our native butterflies.

So far I have raised and released well over 3000 individual butterflies. I have also had the pleasure in recent years of raising a few moths, which has been a real treat because the night-flying adults of most moth species are seldom seen by most of us and are therefore more “mysterious.” Some of them are also very striking, very large, and very fascinating to look at. Moths have the same requirement that butterflies do; they each have specific native host plants that they must seek out for egg-laying and caterpillar food. Planting native plants has brought moths to my yard that I wasn’t even aware of before.

The first moth I ever raised was a Pawpaw Sphinx Moth, a species obviously tied to the native Pawpaw tree. I planted one of these trees in my yard 7 or 8 years ago because it is the sole host plant for the gorgeous Zebra Swallowtail and I wanted Zebras to lay eggs in my yard. One day I was searching the tree for Zebra caterpillars, and was surprised to find this guy instead:

I searched through my library of field guides and was able to ID it as a Pawpaw Sphinx Moth caterpillar. I collected it, fed it Pawpaw leaves, watched it go into its cocoon, and a few weeks later successfully emerge as an adult moth with a beautiful, complicated brown, black and white pattern. Here it is on my own finger:

Last fall I was cleaning up my yard and stumbled upon two Io Moth caterpillars, the first I had ever seen. I did a little research and learned that they eat Wild Cherry, so I collected them and fed them from my Wild Cherry tree. (By the way, Io caterpillars are famous for their sting, so if you see one, do not touch it directly).

I also learned that this moth species burrows underground when it is ready to go into the pupae stage, so I put my caterpillars in an aquarium filled with several inches of dirt and dried leaves. Sure enough, when they were done feeding they burrowed into the dirt, went into the pupae phase and spent the winter there, in the aquarium on my front porch. And in June, they both emerged, on consecutive days, in their beautiful adult stage! Io Moths are known for the "eyes" on their upper hindwing; you can see why in the photo below. This one is a female (the male is even brighter!):

The incredible creature below is the caterpillar or larva stage of the Cecropia Moth, which is the largest North American moth, one of the Giant Silk Moths:

In the interest of full disclosure, I'll admit that I did not find this caterpillar in my own yard -- but I could have, because one of their host plants is Wild Cherry, which I have. A fellow raise-and-release enthusiast had several Cecropia cocoons in a cage, and she was not at home when they emerged into adults. By the time she came home and found them, they had already mated and laid "hundreds" of eggs. I obtained one of the tiny caterpillars when it was no more than a quarter of an inch long, and started to feed it the Wild Cherry. Here's its picture a few weeks later, when it was fatter and juicier; these guys get to be up to five inches long!

Caterpillars go through several "instars between molts; in other words, they shed their skin when they outgrow it several times as they mature. In this photo, you can actually see the caterpillar's shed skin in the upper right corner. What I found fascinating is that the shed skin includes the old spikes and colored balls that you see on the fresh caterpillar!

I have been feeding this caterpillar for almost two months now, and finally this week it stopped eating and started to spin its silk cocoon on the side of its screen cage. In a few weeks or maybe even next year, the moth should emerge, and will look like this (photo courtesy of Great Hill Horticultural Foundation):

Cecropias occur throughout eastern North America, west to the Rocky Mountains, but are seldom seen by most of us because they are active at night. I hope to find their caterpillars one day on my own Wild Cherry tree; I'll be looking.

I have raised and released around 150 butterflies so far this summer, but the peak months have not yet even begun. Moth and butterfly numbers will increase over the next two months or so, and I will be much busier finding and feeding voracious caterpillars, then experiencing the joy of releasing them as butterflies. Some will emerge this summer or fall, and some will actually overwinter as chrysalis in my cages and emerge next year. If you’re interested in knowing which native plants are hosts to which species, or would like any more details about the raise-and-release process, please don’t hesitate to contact me; I love sharing the knowledge!

TRIP TO FLORIDA, PART III

2011-06-21T07:04:00.000-07:00

I certainly did not intend to take so long to post this final entry about my late-April “birding and nature” trip to Florida. I must apologize, but I was called away on a death in the family and am trying now to get back into the normal rhythm of things. So, now let’s conclude the Florida trip!

When I last wrote, my mother and brother and I had visited the Everglades in extreme southern Florida. The only place left to go from there was the Florida Keys and the Dry Tortugas. Unfortunately this was a short vacation and we could not spend nearly as much time as we would have liked exploring these areas, but we certainly enjoyed the time we had there.

The first “key” you arrive at after you’ve left the Florida mainland is Key Largo (of Humphrey Bogart fame). This is the largest, most populated and “touristy” of the keys with the exception of Key West. I usually try to avoid places with large numbers of people, but we did make a very worthwhile stop there at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park, which boasts a beautiful aquarium, a visitors center, a film about the Gulf Coast coral reefs and a gift shop among other things. I also wandered around the grounds and took a few pictures, including these two:

(Red-bellied Woodpecker arguing with himself. We get this species here in Virginia too)

(This Cassius Blue butterfly is about the size of my thumbnail)

The Florida Keys span some 100 miles between Key Largo and Key West; they are connected by causeways and 42 bridges, including one bridge that is seven miles long. I would have loved to spend some time exploring as we drove to Key West but the day we travelled it was far too windy to see any wildlife. But the drive was just beautiful, turquoise waters and various kinds of seabirds soaring over the highway as we drove along.

That evening we went to Fort Zachary Taylor at the extreme southwest tip of Key West. We walked through the picnic areas and along a small beach as evening turned to twilight, and I took a few pictures (below), including the one of a Magnificent Frigatebird at the top of this entry.

(In the eastern United States, the Hammock Skipper occurs only in Florida)

(I did not see large numbers of dragonflies on this trip: maybe it was too early in the summer. This one is a Wandering Glider, a species that also occurs in Virginia)

The next day was the grand finale of our trip, a boat trip from Key West to the Dry Tortugas. The Dry Tortugas are a cluster of small islands about 70 miles west of Key West. A large military fortress, Fort Jefferson, which is now a national park, was constructed on the largest of these islands in the mid-19th century to protect the shipping channels in the area. Over the years the fort has served numerous functions, including that of a prison. Dr. Samuel Mudd was imprisoned here after he was found guilty of aiding John Wilkes Booth by giving him medical attention following the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. (Photo above courtesy of http://www.evergladesassociation.org/)

Years ago I went to the Dry Tortugas by seaplane; this time I thought the ferry would be the best way to travel, gliding along the glassy Gulf waters and seeing sea turtles and birds along the way. Nice idea, but on this particular day the Gulf waters were angry and very choppy as the wind continued to blow. Most of us got seasick to some extent, and my poor brother in particular got violently ill; not the peaceful and beautiful ride I had envisioned at all.

Once we got to our destination and got off the boat, we all recovered and enjoyed some wonderful birding. The Dry Tortugas are well known as a birding “hotspot,” especially during spring migration. Songbirds that migrate from Mexico and fly over the Gulf waters are often exhausted by the time they reach North America and will drop onto the first piece of land they see to eat and to rest. The Dry Tortugas are a magnet for these birds, especially following turbulent weather, and birders who go there hope they have chosen a day with a large “fallout” of these migrants.

This female Hooded Warbler was easy to approach, probably because she was so exhausted. Don't worry about her, though; she ate a few meals and perked up nicely.

This Yellow-billed Cuckoo stopped at Fort Jefferson on its migration to more northern areas; it could very possibly be breeding in Virginia this summer).

(In North America, the Gray Kingbird occurs only in the far southeastern states, mostly in Florida.

In addition to the hoped-for songbird fallouts, birders who visit the Dry Tortugas are also treated to spectacular views of some seabird species that are very rarely seen anywhere else in North America. Bush Key is the site of a large nesting colony of Sooty Terns every year; Hospital Key hosts a few Masked Boobies; Magnificent Frigatebirds soar overhead, and Brown Noddies are numerous.

(Sooty Tern colony, above, on Bush Key, viewed from Fort Jefferson).

(Brown Noddies are a sleek, beautiful member of the Tern family of birds. You are not likely to see them in anywhere in North America other than the Dry Tortugas)

The Magnificent Frigatebird (above) has an 85-inch wing span! It is a seabird that never lands on the water, and is known for its aerial piracy of other birds' meals; it always feeds on the wing. The photo at the beginning of this blog entry is a female, which sports a white breast; the male, above, is all black. The male's scarlet throat patch, which he inflates to impress the ladies in breeding season, is deflated in my photo, but below you can see what he looks like when he's in his full spendor (photo courtesy of http://www.wikipedia.com/)

On the buoys near Fort Jefferson one often finds Brown Boobies (below), and we hit the jackpot that day as we headed back to Key West, finding at least a dozen on this one buoy alone.

And on that note, we'll say good-bye to Florida, for the time being. It was wonderful to share the experience with my mom and my brother and I hope we can do it again very soon.

TRIP TO FLORIDA, PART II, THE EVERGLADES

2011-05-19T12:34:00.000-07:00

Have I got your attention now?

If you haven’t already read Part I of my Florida trip, please scroll down and have a look if you like. This entry will pick up at The Everglades, our next destination after Fort Myers. Yes, Virginia, there are alligators there!

The Everglades is known as the “River of Grass,” which describes it perfectly; it is actually a shallow, slow-moving, freshwater river nearly 50 miles wide! A lot of people are surprised when they go there to see that it is not a tropical jungle or a deep, dark swamp, but rather a flat, very flat wet grassland. The grasses are an efficient, natural filter for all the water that drains from Florida into the ocean. The highest elevation in the park, which encompasses 1,506,539 acres, is 6 feet! But a few inches of elevation in the Everglades makes a world of difference in the vegetation; hardwood hammocks grow in thick clusters wherever the elevation rises ever so slightly, and there exotic species of plants, trees and wildlife thrive.

Much of The Everglades is not accessible to people, or is accessible only by boat. This is a blessing, as human presence could only do more damage to the fragile ecosystem and its wildlife. It’s probably a blessing to the humans too, as the insects, reptiles and other residents of the park can become absolutely unbearable to people, especially as the weather warms up. But those who want to can experience a good sampling of the Everglades by walking the trails, boardwalks and side roads that the park has built. The easiest and most “people-friendly” of the trails is probably the Anhinga Trail.

The Anhinga, for which the trail is named, is actually a water bird that is very common in the Everglades. It’s reminiscent of a cormorant, but is much thinner and sleeker, with a long, thin dagger-like bill that it uses to pierce its prey. The picture above is of two fledglings near the nest that aren’t quite ready to fly. A few Anhingas do occur in Virginia, but nowhere near the numbers you’ll find farther south.

The bird below is a colorful member of the rail family of birds, known as a Purple Gallinule. I won’t even try to describe it as I couldn’t begin to do it justice; just look at the picture! This is a subtropical species that does not survive in more northern climates. It spends most of its time under heavy cover in thick, extensive wet areas where it is impossible to spot, but if you’re lucky, one will walk out into the open for a while to look for food and water.

Below is a Green Heron, a species I mentioned in a previous blog about herons and egrets. Green Herons occur in Virginia and are fairly common in the summer, but I never got a photo opportunity like this one before! The animals along the Anhinga Trail are wild, but are somewhat used to the presence of humans nearby and startle less often than you might experience at other places.

There are alligators everywhere along the Anhinga Trail, but I didn’t feel in the least threatened by them. As long as you stay on the designated paths and boardwalks, you are separated from them enough for comfort. Here are a couple of favorite photos:

I did walk another Everglades trail named the Snake Bight Trail, which took me straight into an extensive hardwood hammock. My mother and brother bowed out of this walk because the insects were pretty ferocious. I get ridiculously single-minded, though, about what I want to see, and before I knew it, I had left them for almost two hours. I wanted to go to the end of the trail, and I kept walking to the next bend in the trail, then the next and the next. I totally lost track of the time and got lots of bug bites, and I never did come to the end of the trail. But I saw some wonderful birds and especially butterflies:

This gorgeous creature is Florida’s “state butterfly,” the Zebra Heliconian. I must have snapped 50 pictures while I chased it around, trying to capture its image in flight. It is a member of the “longwing” family of butterflies, none of which occur in Virginia.

The Queen (above) looks a lot like a Monarch, and they are members of the same family, but once you study butterflies a little bit, you’ll see subtle differences. The Queen is a darker color of orange, with more brownish tones, and if you look at the underside of the forewing you’ll see there are no black veins like there are on the Monarch. Like Monarchs, they lay their eggs on plants that are in the milkweed family, which the caterpillars eat until they go into their chrysalis stage.

One of the butterfly species that I really wanted to see badly was the Mangrove Skipper, a subtropical species that only reaches North America in Florida. Its host plant is the Red Mangrove tree. My efforts in walking Snake Bight Trail were rewarded when I finally saw one of these beauties and was able to photograph it. Here are a couple of photos: I especially like the one where it’s looking straight into the camera!

At another part of the park, Paurotis Pond, we found another specialty of Southern Florida, the Wood Stork; in fact, we found a whole rookery of storks nesting and flying all around us, a real treat. Storks are bald like vultures and might be considered, well, unattractive to us, but when they are soaring in the air they are a truly beautiful spectacle.

I’ll conclude my Florida trip next time: part III will include our visit to the Florida Keys and the Dry Tortugas.

TRIP TO FLORIDA, PART 1

2011-05-10T13:20:00.000-07:00

I hate to miss any of the spring bird migration here in Virginia, but the last week of April I took some time off to go to southern Florida. My mother and my brother flew in from Utah to join me, and we set out to find new species of birds and, for me, butterflies, that we don’t see at our respective homes. I birded in southern Florida many years ago and was anxious to see again some of the species that occur only there, and get better photos of what came my way. I planned a rough itinerary from Tampa to Fort Myers to the Everglades to Key West, so we did a lot of driving but saw a bit of everything. Here I want to share some of my favorite photos with you (and if you’d like to see more, you can check out the Florida folder on my Flickr page at http://www.flickr.com/photos/birdingva/sets/72157626674047980.

Our first day we headed east from Tampa to do some birding in Central Florida, including Lake Kissimmee State Park and Kissimmee Prairie Preserve. (A lot of places in central Florida bear the name Kissimmee, which translates to “heaven’s place.”) One of the first birds to greet us at the state park was the incredibly stunning and elegant Swallowtail Kite (photo above). A “Kite” is a type of raptor or hawk, smaller and more slender than, say, a Red-tailed Hawk. The term “Kite” alludes to the way this family of birds flies and hovers in the air when searching for food. The Swallowtail Kite breeds in Florida, although its breeding range does extend into some other areas of the southeastern United States; sometimes one migrates too far north and is spotted in Virginia, but that is an extremely rare occurrence. Most Swallowtail Kites winter in South America.

Here are a few other birds we saw in the scrublands of Central Florida:

This large gray crane with the red "cap" is a Sandhill Crane. Many people confuse herons with cranes because they are of similar size and structure, but in fact we only get two species of crane in North Amerca, the Sandhill Crane and the endangered Whooping Crane. Neither occur in Virginia, with the exception of a handful of stray Sandhills each year.

Everyone has heard of "meadowlarks" but few have really seen one up close. This beautiful bird with the bright yellow throat and breast is an Eastern Meadowlark. The species is common in Virginia and much of the eastern half of the United States. Yes, there is also a Western Meadowlark, which is very similar in appearance to its eastern cousin, and it inhabits the areas west of the Great Plains. Meadowlarks are renowned for their beautiful songs.

Here's a bird that does not occur in Virginia. The Crested Caracara occurs only in Florida, Texas and Arizona in the United States, and southward into the tropical areas of Central and South America. Although it is actually a member of the falcon family of birds, it readily eats carrion like vultures do, and it is nicknamed the Mexican Eagle. It is a striking bird-- just look at that beak!

From Central Florida we headed back to the Gulf Coast and Fort Myers, which is near Sanibel Island. Sanibel Island is known to birders all over the planet as the location of the Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge, an amazing place to bird and one of the most reliable locations to see Roseate Spoonbills, a much sought-after species in North America. Roseate Spoonbills are showy, large wading birds with vivid pink plumage. It’s obvious from the photo (above) how they got the name “spoonbills.” They are resident breeders in South America, in coastal regions of the Caribbean, Central America, Mexico, and the Gulf Coast of the United States.

The Spoonbills usually fly into Ding Darling’s ponds in the evening to roost communally for the night, and sure enough, when we pulled in around 7:00 p.m. we were treated to the spectacle of 116 Spoonbills (yes, another birder counted them!) in the company of various other species of herons, egrets and shorebirds. Skies were clear, the sun was setting, and it was absolutely magnificent to witness so much beauty. At one point, the Spoonbills suddenly started walking towards the road where we were standing, and they started chattering intently. We realized what caused this behavior when a large alligator surfaced on the water; the birds were actually moving towards the alligator and scolding it, rather than turning tail and getting the heck out of there!

We also birded at Ding Darling and along the causeway between Fort Myers and Sanibel Island during the day, and found good numbers of birds. Many of the species we saw are also found here in Virginia, but the populations of some of these birds become greater the farther south you go into subtropical climates. Here's a sampling:

Ruddy Turnstones (above) are quite common here in Virginia along the coast, and they are easy to see along the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. You can see how the lower bill kind of curves up towards the tip; this is an adaptation that lets this species literally "turn stones" over as they look for food, and this is the reason for their name. They do not remain this bright ruddy color in the winter; their colors fade but their unique pattern remains the same.

This Black-bellied plover is also a species that we see regularly in Virginia. Like the Turnstone, its winter coloration is much duller than it is in the breeding season. The plovers are another family of shorebirds that you'll almost always find near the water or wet fields.

Ding Darling has a lot of water and wetlands that are a magnet for egrets, herons, ibis and other waders in addition to the Roseate Spoonbills. This one is a Great Egret, a bird you'll see in Virginia too.

Ospreys (above) are often mistaken for Bald Eagles because they are a large raptor with a lot of white on the head. If you look closer, though, you will see the field marks that help you identify it as an Osprey -- the white underparts and the brown line through the eye are prominent. Ospreys are know as "fish hawks" because their diet consist solely of fish. These are the hawks that you see hovering over the water to search for food, then diving feet first to grasp their prey in their huge claws. When you see large nests made of sticks on power poles and other platforms near the water, they are likely Osprey nests.

After we birded the Fort Myers area, we headed south through Corkscrew Swamp, into the Everglades, and out to the Keys, where we took a boat trip 70 miles from Key West to the Dry Tortugas. In my next blog entry I will pick up the trip where this one leaves off, and introduce you to more of the Florida specialties.

APRIL AT THE DISMAL SWAMP

2011-04-15T12:38:00.000-07:00

This was a long, brutal winter, wasn’t it? Record snow and record low temperatures, and everyone got sick at some point (I got Whooping Cough, for heaven’s sake! Who gets that???). Winter seemed endless, but it’s finally spring, and for me, April is the ultimate cure for the doldrums. And as always, my favorite place to go to commune with nature and witness its reawakening is the Dismal Swamp.

Mid-April is when most of the migrant birds start arriving here from more southern regions. Some butterflies and dragonflies have actually been active on warm days since early March, but of course as the weather warms up, there are many more emerging every day. If you are interested in observing and learning about the living creatures in the Dismal Swamp, right now is the time to go, when natural activity is building towards its peak and the weather has not yet become oppressive, as it does by summertime.

On May 12, 13 and 14, the Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge will host its 2011 Birding Festival. If you visit them online at http://www.fws.gov/northeast/greatdismalswamp you will find the link to their schedule of events. They are also taking reservations now for guided walks, bus tours, and workshops that they will sponsor, so if you’re interested, be sure to register early, before everything fills up.

Personally, I like to visit The Swamp alone. I prefer the wilderness and solitude, and I love to take long slow walks down Washington Ditch, Jericho Ditch, and sometimes Railroad Ditch. I like to feel like I’m the only person out there, witnessing nature at its heart. It’s a very spiritual experience, and it always refreshes and rejuvenates me. Some of my friends worry "But aren't there Black Bears out there?" Well, yes there are, and here's a picture of the one I saw yesterday along Washington Ditch, not far from the parking area! Maybe I should worry more, but I was just excited to see it (at a reasonable distance). I think this is the third bear I've seen in The Swamp, but you're really not very likely to run into one; they do want to avoid us more than we want to avoid them.

The little yellow bird in the photo at the start of this entry is one of the “signature” birds of the Dismal Swamp, a Prothonotary Warbler. This is a bright little bird of the warbler family that breeds in southeastern swamps, and nests in cavities rather than building its nest in branches like most other birds of its kind. Prothonotaries just returned to The Swamp this week from their winter quarters, and as I took my walk yesterday I was surrounded by dozens of them singing their songs and beginning to squabble with each other over breeding territories. Pure joy! For those of you who know your warblers, I also heard or saw Swainson's, Yellow-throated, Prairie, Hooded and Yellow-rumped Warblers, Ovenbirds, American Redstarts, Louisiana Waterthrush and Common Yellowthroats.

The bird song usually starts to diminish a bit around 10:00, but that's when it starts warming up and the butterflies and dragonflies get more active. It's still early spring so many species aren't out yet, but I was excited by the numbers and variety of insects that I saw. Here are some of my favorites:

This little butterfly (above) is called a Pearl Crescent. This species is common now at The Swamp, and you could see one just about anywhere, all summer long.

Not to be confused with the ubiquitous Cabbage White butterfly that you see everywhere, this one is a Falcate Orange-tip. They are early spring butterflies that will disappear sometime in May. You will probably not see one in your yard, but if you visit The Swamp now you're sure to see several. Males have the orange tips on the wings; females do not.

This beauty is not a butterfly; it is an Eight-spotted Forester Moth. They're hard to miss if they cross your path. These too are only active in the early spring.

"Elfins" are one of my favorites. Members of the "Hairstreak" family of butterflies, they are about the size of a dime, but for such a small creature they have such complex patterns in their wings! Above is a Henry's Elfin, which is common-to-uncommon in The Swamp in early spring; below is its less common cousin the Eastern Pine Elfin, also an early spring species. This is actually the one and only Pine Elfin that I've ever seen in The Swamp, because they are usually high up in the pine trees and tough to spot.

Below is a Lace-winged Roadside Skipper (an awfully long name for a little guy the size of a nickel). Again, look at the intricacies of its wing pattern; just gorgeous! These will be found in swampy areas all summer long.

And last, I couldn't pass up sharing a couple of dragonfly photos. Again, it's too early in the season to find most species out flying, but these two are early emergers in The Swamp. The first is a Common Baskettail, which are usually the first species I see in the spring. The second is a Spring Cruiser, and this was the first time I have seen one. (Also present now are Harlequin Darners, which will fill the skies at The Swamp in the next few weeks on warm days).

Later this week I will be taking a short trip to southern Florida, not because I'm particularly fond of Florida but because there are bird, butterfly and dragonfly species there that do not occur this far north. I can't wait to see some new "life" critters and maybe share some photos from there next time. Enjoy the spring, everyone!

HERONS AND EGRETS AND BITTERNS, OH MY!

2011-03-28T08:10:00.000-07:00

When I mention my interest in birding to non-birding people, they‘ll often respond by telling me about a bird that they themselves have noticed, and it’s almost always a Great Blue Heron that they’ve seen in their local pond. Great Blue Herons are large, impressive, and conspicuous, and get noticed even by people who don’t notice birds. When they fly, with their long necks folded into an “S” curve over their bodies, they resemble an ancient pterodactyl that does not belong in today’s world, and they’re hard not to notice. Great Blue Herons are probably the most common of the heron and egret family in North America. They occur in all states and can be seen year round in most places. (Photo above courtesy of Seattle Weekly Blogs)

People are usually surprised to learn that these large, awkward birds nest in the tops of dead trees, and not on the ground. They nest in colonies called rookeries, which can include hundreds of birds. These rookeries often include herons and egrets of species other than the Great Blues, and they are always very very noisy. (Photo, right, from wikipedia.com)

The City of Chesapeake capitalized on people’s familiarity and affection for the Great Blue Heron by selecting it as the official symbol of the City in 2006. And have you ever noticed all the statues of the Great Blue at various places and business throughout the City? These are the result of the “Blue Heron Project,” a nonprofit community initiative led by a group of local volunteers seeking to sell blue heron sculptures to area businesses, individuals, and other organizations as a way to raise its goal of $1 million for education. The sculptures were designed by Myke Irving, and each is painted with its own unique design and is put up for “adoption.” Chicago has its cow statues, Norfolk has its mermaids, and Chesapeake now has its herons.

Southeastern Virginia, with its many wetlands, mild climate, and proximity to the Atlantic Coast,is attractive to a number of other species of large waders, including herons, their close relatives the egrets, ibis, and two species of Bitterns. Some of these are secretive and hard to find, while others can be easily spotted if you’re observant.

If the Great Blue Heron is the large wader you’re most likely to see, the Great Egret is probably the next most likely. We have three species of egrets in our area, and the largest of these is the Great Egret, which is only slightly smaller than the Great Blue Heron. (Egrets are entirely white, so they’re easy to spot if they’re out in the open against a grassy green background. Other than its large size, the Great Egret can be distinguished from other white egrets by its yellow-orange bill and its black legs and feet. (Photo of Great Egret, above, taken at Chincoteague N.W.R.)

The Snowy Egret is smaller than the Great Egret, has a black bill and black legs, and startling yellow feet! The foot color is a diagnostic field mark for this egret, so if you see yellow feet there is no doubt that you’re looking at a Snowy. A very few Snowies might winter some years in our area, but for the most part they migrate to the south during the winter and return to breed in the spring and summer.

(Snowy Egret at Craney Island, Portsmouth)

The third egret we see here is far less common than the other two, and its habits are quite different as well. The Cattle Egret is often found in the company of cattle – really! Instead of feeding with the other egrets in wetlands, it mostly feeds in relatively dry grassy habitats, often accompanying cattle or other large mammals. It is an opportunist, as it catches insects and other sources of food that are kicked up by the cattle. Cattle Egrets do not have the long necked, elegant look of the other egrets; they are stockier and have a more “hunched” posture. In breeding season, they have patches of orangish-buffy colored feathers on the breast and head. I usually see a few Cattle Egrets in Virginia each summer in fields within a mile or two of the coast, particularly near Back Bay and Chincoteague.

(Cattle Egret photo courtesy of wikipedia.com)

Here are photos of more of the heron species that you can find here in Tidewater:

The Green Heron, above (photo courtesy of wikipedia.com) is a small heron that breeds and summers here in wet and swampy places. You'll usually find it at the water's edge or on a branch overhanging the water, waiting for prey. These birds have been know to drop insects and other small objects into the water to attract fish, making it one of very few animals that uses tools.

This bird above is an adult Little Blue Heron, a small heron of southeastern and subtropical swamps. Surprisingly, the young birds (photo below) are all white except for a little bit of black in the wing, and they can be confused with egrets to those who aren't familiar with the differences. According to wikipedia.com, these young white birds mingle with Snowy Egrets, and actually catch more fish when in their company; they also gain a measure of protection from predators when in these mixed flocks. One theory is that it is because of these advantages that the Little Blues remain white for their first year.

Below is one of my favorites, a Tri-colored Heron. This species used to be called the Louisiana Heron. It is a breeder in the Gulf and southeastern states only, another bird of southern and subtropical swamps. This bird is a juvenile I saw on the Eastern Shore in late summer.

These last two herons are "night herons." The name refers to their preference for noctural feeding, although you will see them during the day as well. The first bird (below) is a Black-crowned Night Heron, a species that occurs throughout most of North America. The second bird is another specialty of the southeastern states, the Yellow-crowned Night Heron.

(top: Black-crowned Night Heron, Newport News)

(bottom:Yellow-crowned Night Heron at Weyanoke Sanctuary, Portsmouth)

Bitterns are another classification of birds in the heron family. They tend to be short-necked, have brown streaky underparts, and have very secretive habits. They reside in the reeds and grasses in extensive marshes; if you’re lucky enough to see one it’s usually because it happens to be feeding at the water’s edge, or it has taken flight. Even when bitterns are out in the open they are very difficult to spot because of their unique defense mechanism of “freezing” in place. They raise their heads, pointing their bills straight up at the sky, and stand motionless against the background of reeds and grasses; their own brown streaky underparts blend in perfectly with the grasses. If a breeze blows the grasses, the bittern will “sway” along with the grass so it continues to blend in. Perfect camoflage! We get two species of bittern in our area, one during the winter and one during the summer.

The American Bittern (photo, above) is a large bird that winters in places like the thick marshes at Back Bay. The Least Bittern is the smallest heron found in the Americas, measuring only about a foot in length. Because of its habits and its size, it is extremely difficult to find even though it is quite common in certain places in the summer. Your best bet is to walk along the dikes at Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge in late May or early June, very early in the morning. If you do this, you’ll be sure to see several Least Bitterns making short flights through the marshes. (Photo of a Least Bittern, right, taken at Anahuac N.W.R., TX.)

It might seem confusing at first, trying to identify the different species of large waders. Your best bet starting out is to go birding with someone who already has some experience in identifying them, and can help in pointing out the different field marks. Another good bet is to study the birding field guides before you ever go out into the field. I keep preaching this, but it's very helpful to have a bird's picture in your head before you see the actual bird, and understand when and where you are likely to encounter a particular bird. If you see a large white wader in Chesapeake, you'll know that it's not a Whooping Crane, because you have already learned that that species does not occur here; it is far more likely to be a Great Egret, which is quite common here. The books are invaluable in helping you to "know your birds," but nothing can replace the experience you gain yourself out in the field. Spring is right around the corner now (at last!) and breeding birds will start arriving soon, so I encourage you to check out a bird guide at your library and head for your nearest wetland. Have a wonderful time, and always feel free to contact me if you're perplexed about a bird you're having trouble identifying.

THE EVOLUTION OF A BIRDER AND "THE CHASE"

2011-01-31T17:40:00.000-08:00

My story of becoming an avid bird and nature watcher is similar to that of many other birders’, and is what you might expect to happen to yourself if you get interested in – and then addicted to -- the amazing natural world. First, you buy one or two birdfeeders to see what will come to your yard. Then you buy a standard field guide (or borrow one from the library) so you can identify what you’re seeing at your feeders. Then you probably start adding more feeders with different kinds of seed, and a birdbath or two. Of course you need a pair of binoculars so you can study the birds at closer range. So far, so good.

Soon you decide that you want to see other kinds of birds, the ones that don’t come to your feeder. You notice Great Blue Herons and Osprey flying over your car as you drive down the freeway. You talk to a few people to find out where you should go to see more birds. You buy a few maps and maybe a book on where to watch wildlife in your area. You go out there on the weekend, and it’s fun but you don’t know what some of the birds you saw are. You probably buy another field guide. You learn that if you study the field guides before you go out looking for birds, and learn what is likely to occur in your area, you’re more likely to recognize what you see when you see it. You bury yourself for hours in books getting ready for the next outing. Hey, this is fun!

From here your interest in birds will snowball into an obsession, which is not a bad thing. You’ll start keeping lists of what species you have seen (I keep year lists, state lists, yard lists, life lists, lists of birds I’ve photographed, etc.). You’ll keep a journal. You’ll subscribe to the local birding listserv where you can read about the birds that others have seen, and where they’ve seen them. You will start “chasing” those birds in the hopes that the birds will still be there when you arrive. You want to see species that you haven’t seen before, and discover new places to go.

You will try to tell your friends about this wonderful new hobby, or about the new bird you saw, and they will look at you, eyes glazed over, with a look that's a cross between pity and concern (Erin...). They just don’t get it! But you, with your new-found knowledge and passion for birding, don’t care; birding makes you happy and connected with nature, and you pity your friends who don’t experience that same joy! Before you know it, you’ve replaced your cheap binoculars with a much more expensive pair, bought a spotting scope, a hundred more books, and you plan all your weekends and vacations around birding.

That brings me to “The Chase.” If you’ve stuck with birding this far, you’ve seen most of the common birds by now, and you’ve started itching to chase the uncommon and rare birds that you hear about. Rare birds include those that have very low populations, are secretive and hard to find, or those that, by an accident of nature, have somehow flown off-course and landed somewhere where they don’t normally occur. These are the birds that really get a birder’s blood pumping!

This winter has brought a good number of rarities to Virginia. We see some rarities every year, but this year, more were undoubtedly brought here by the unusually severe storms that have occurred across the country. I’ve been lucky enough to be able to “chase” some of these birds that were found and reported by other birders, and get photos in most cases. This weekend found me in Glen Allen; last weekend I made a run to South Boston; on New Year’s Eve Day I was on the Eastern Shore, chasing birds. Here are a few of the rarities I’ve been finding and chasing this fall and winter:

In late September, my friend Nancie and I were birding and photographing on the Eastern Shore. On our way home I decided to stop at Lynnhaven Inlet to see if the migrating terns were still around. They were not, but to my amazement, Nancie and I found a rare bird of our own, a female Yellow-headed Blackbird! This species is restricted to the marshes in the western half of the country in breeding season, and then migrates south in the fall to Mexico, where it winters. Somehow this little bird flew east instead of south, and stopped when she reached the end of the country, here in Virginia Beach! A handful of these blackbirds are found somewhere in Virginia almost every year, but they are very rare.

In late November a Loggerhead Shrike was found hunting in an undeveloped field in the Sandbridge area of Virginia Beach. Shrikes, which were once much more common in Virginia (and everywhere else), have declined alarmingly in the past few decades. A very few remain in areas of the Piedmont and western Virginia, but this November bird was the first one to occur in Virginia Beach since 1978! Where did it come from? How did it get here? No one can know, but it remained for several weeks in the area for many birders to admire.

I already told you about the Allen’s hummingbird that is visiting a feeder in Chester, Va. this winter. The Allen’s is a resident of the Pacific Coast in California. This little wanderer is only the second Virginia record of this species ever. (Correction: I've been told that it's the third record). As of today, she is still healthy, active, and molting into her adult plumage, thanks to the dedication of the Chester family who replaces her feeders and turns on warming lights by the feeders every morning.

We all remember the severe snowstorm that dropped 14” of snow in Hampton Roads at Christmastime. Not only did it impact our entire region, it impacted the birds too. Once the main roads were passable again, reports came in of a vagrant Mountain Bluebird, a western species, on the Eastern Shore near Oyster. This, I believe, was the second ever state record of this species in Virginia, and I simply had to chase it down! So on New Year’s Eve Day, I went to the Eastern Shore, and was fortunate enough to find the bird exactly where it was reported. This individual does not sport the beautiful blue plumage of the adult males, so it is either a female or a first-year bird.

(On the way to find the Mountain Bluebird, I came across a flock of its cousins, the Eastern Bluebirds, which are common here. I was able to snap a photo of a nice male on the power lines. You can see the similarity in their shape, build, and overall “look.”)

As I started home from admiring the Mountain Bluebird, going south on Highway 600, I wondered if I would see any Woodcocks in the fields. Woodcocks might be the funniest looking bird we have here; they looks like parts of different birds were thrown together haphazardly to make a new bird. It’s in the “shorebird” family of birds, which brings to mind beaches and mudflats, but the Woodcock spends its days deep in the understory of eastern woods, coming out into the open only at night to perform its courting and mating rituals. But the snowstorm had a profound impact on the Woodcocks for several days; they were forced from their woods out to the open fields where some of the snow had melted, and where they could probe the ground for food. As I drove down the highway, I saw at least 50 of these birds in fields and in people’s front yards near the road’s edge! I never thought I would ever get a photo of the secretive Woodcock, but on this day it was easy.

Everyone knows about the common Canada Geese, ubiquitous everywhere in North America, but there are other goose species less well-known. The western states are home to the Greater White-fronted Goose, and when I lived in Oregon I saw thousands of them. But I never took a photograph of them, and now that I’m tracking the number of species I’ve photographed, I’ve regretted that I missed that one. So when two were reported in Halifax County a couple of weeks ago, I made a run to South Boston. After a few hours of frustration looking at birdless fields, they finally flew in near dusk and landed close enough that I could get a picture. By the way, they were in the company of three blue-phase Snow Geese. Snow Geese are common winterers on the Atlantic Coast, but they are very uncommon inland.

My last story is about a bird I chased and photographed yesterday in Henrico County. It’s a little finch called a White-winged Crossbill, which breeds in Canada and the far northern coniferous forests. Their mandibles (the bill) really do cross, an adaptation to the way they feed on pine cones and extract the pine nuts. In some years, when food supplies run low in the far north, they will wander down into the northern U.S. states in search of good cone crops, but they do not normally come this far south. Last week, one appeared at a birdfeeder in Glen Allen in the company of a feeding flock of small birds like chickadees and goldfinches, and it has stayed for several days. I was thrilled to see the bird and photograph it, although it was dark yesterday morning and my camera’s shutter speed was very slow with a long lens; I did a pretty good job of holding the camera still but unfortunately you can’t see the crossed mandibles in this photo because of the slow shutter speed.

There is rarely any logic behind out-of-place birds (or should I say, human logic), and although we wonder how they came to be where they are, we will never know. We can only give chase and enjoy them when they come to our neighborhood.

You Call This a Storm?

2010-12-29T07:21:00.000-08:00

I can clearly remember living in Utah in my early twenties, when a snow storm was just part of the normal routine. I remember driving to work, up the mountain in my Toyota Corolla through three-foot snow drifts and icy roads, with no chains on the tires. There was no question but that life continued and the office was open for business; it just happened to be cold, icy and snowy outside.

I suppose some Utahns would scoff at the little storm we had here this week, and call us wimps for shutting down the whole city (I can hear my brother-in-law now…). A foot of snow? Hardly worthy of mention over coffee talk. We have a librarian in Chesapeake who moved here this year from Wisconsin, and he is undoubtedly perplexed that we have been so paralyzed by this little winter storm. (My Chesapeake back yard, above)

Well, I for one admit to being a wimp. I have lost all of my western hardiness, and have been housebound since the snow started falling. It’s a good thing I was well-stocked on cat food, and that I made soup for myself last week, because in my neighborhood at least, it’s scary out there and I haven’t wanted to step outside, except to take a few photos. I’ve become older, less adventurous, and yes, a wimp.

There are some really great aspects to the aftermath of the storm, though. It’s gorgeous outside! The snow hasn’t yet started melting or getting dirty, and it sparkles now under the bluest skies I've ever seen here in Virginia. Never mind that underneath the piles of snow, some of our landscaping has probably suffered; right now it’s just beautiful.

(My reading chair, back yard)

And the birds? Well, they have been coming to everyone’s bird feeders in huge numbers because all of their other food sources have been buried. At my house, and yours too I’m sure, the variety of species and the numbers of individuals have been pretty spectacular. My regular six or so Blue Jays have grown to over a dozen; same with the Cardinals. And the blackbird flocks? They suddenly descended on my feeders like locusts! The Mourning Doves, Juncos, White-throated Sparrows, Carolina Wrens and others just had to wait until the blackbirds had had their fill before they could get anywhere near the feeder.

(Mourning Dove at the bird bath)

“Blackbird flocks,” by the way, consist of a mix of Red-winged Blackbirds, Brown-headed Cowbirds, Common Grackles, and Starlings. If you look closely, you can see the differences in their field marks and coloration. Female Red-winged Blackbirds in particular stand out, because instead of being black, they look more like big sparrows, brownish or reddish-brownish with a lot of dark brown streaking. Check the pictures in your bird field guide, and compare them to what you see in your yard; it’s fun to start learning the names and identities of what you’re seeing outside your window. If you don’t have a field guide, borrow one from the library; we have ‘em!

Here are a few pictures I took of some of my winter visitors over the past couple of days. I’d like to invite you to share your own winter bird or winter storm photos with me, and I’ll post them next time on this blog for all to see! Simply send them as jpeg attachments in an e-mail to birdingva@yahoo.com, or call Karen at 410-7141 if you have any questions. I’ll look forward to seeing what you send! Happy New Year, everyone!

(Our state bird, the Cardinal, looks absolutely splendid in the snow)

(The female has more subtle coloration but is still stunning)

(Every time the Mockingbirds see me through a window, they come to demand a peanut butter treat.

(The less common Fox Sparrow does not normally visit Tidewater bird feeders, but when there's a foot of snow in the ground, they sometimes make an appearance, like this one did yesterday. Ah, that blue sky...!)

Update on Winter Hummingbirds

2010-12-15T07:13:00.000-08:00

In my October blog I talked about hummingbirds that winter here in Virginia. Although they are rare, a few usually show up, whether they are our familiar Ruby-throated Hummingbirds that didn't migrate as far south as they should, or whether they are rare western species that migrated in the wrong direction and wound up in Virginia instead of in Mexico.

The Western rarities in particular get birders quite excited, and if a bird is a juvenile or a female and cannot be positively identified by sight alone, a hummingbird bander is usually called upon to band and identify the species. If the owner of the feeder that the hummingbird is frequenting gives the okay, the bird's location is shared with others, and posted on the local listservs so that others can come see the bird.

So far, this winter has been quite an exciting time for hummingbird enthusiasts, and I want to share some of the love with you all. In October I posted two photos from Mark Mullins (Claytor Lake, Va.) of a Rufous Hummingbird that was coming to his feeder. About a week later, Mark made another amazing discovery at the very same feeder: an adult male Black-chinned Hummingbird! While common in the western states, it is extremely rare in the east, and even more rare is seeing an adult male in definitive plumage. Mark took amazing pictures of this bird (above and below) and gave me permission to post them here. Thanks again, Mark.

On November 20 a female hummingbird started visiting a feeder in Chester, Va. (just west of Hopewell). She was a "Selasphorus" hummingbird, meaning she was either a Rufous or an Allen's hummingbird; these two western species are almost identical in female or immature plumage, so a bird bander was called to capture, band, examine and release her. He verified that she was an Allen's Hummingbird, one of only a handful of confirmed Virginia records of this species! I myself drove to Chester twice to see her because I had not seen an Allen's away from the Pacific coast. I was able to get a decent photo of her on a day when the sun actually shone. The homeowners who are hosting her are maintaining three feeders, and bought warming devices to attach to each of them to keep the sugar water unfrozen. It has been bitterfly cold for the past two weeks, but she has been able to survive because of their extra care and effort.

(Note: As of today, December 15, the homeowner hosting the Allen's posted on the listserv that the bird is still there today, with the thermometer reading 8 degrees outside!)

Another "Selasphorus" hummingbird was reported to the Virginia Bird Listserv last week by David Shoch (Charlottesville). This one is visiting a feeder in Earlysville. This one is an immature male, and again, it cannot be determined whether he is a Rufous or an Allen's Hummingbird without closer examination. As you can see from David's photo, below, he is more colorful than the Selasphorus females. The hummingbird bander will hopefully be able visit the bird and make a determination in the next week or two.

I've been told the the Ruby-throated Hummingbird that wintered last year in Sandbridge has returned this year to the same feeder. Birds are built that way; the same bird will often return to precisely the same location year after year, even in cases like this one where the location is outside its species' normal range.

So, that's how things are so far this year. I have faithfully maintained my own hummingbird feeder in my Chesapeake yard, and encourage others to do the same. I have had no winter visitors, at least not while I've been at home to see them --- but, you never know....!

WHAT’S THAT AT MY FEEDER, PART II

2010-11-23T13:13:00.000-08:00

As I write this, in late November, it is still over 75 degrees outside. It smells like autumn, and the fall colors (which are particularly spectacular and long-lasting this year) tell me that it’s autumn, even though it doesn’t feel like autumn and I don’t need a coat yet. A few weeks ago my birdbath froze, just barely, for one night, but right now it’s hard to believe it’s almost winter.

But my inner clock and the way I measure time and the seasons revolves now around the natural world and its non-human inhabitants. I know that fall and winter have arrived when I see new winter arrivals at my birdfeeders. Birds that spent the summer breeding far north of us have migrated south; some might have stopped here for a few days, just “passing through,” before they continued further south, and for others, this is where they will stop and spend their entire winter.

Most of our small winter visitors are seed-eaters. Obviously the insect-eaters must go to warmer climates than ours to find insects during the winter, so you won’t see those in your yard now. Natural food sources that were abundant during summer and early fall are severely reduced in the winter, so birds that rely on seeds and nuts frequent our birdfeeders more. You will see more finches, chickadees, sparrows, doves, corvids and others at your feeder now than you did during the summer. Once they find your feeder, they are likely to visit you all winter if you keep your feeders full. Here are some of the small seed-eaters you can expect to attract:

The Tufted Titmouse (left) and its cousin the Carolina Chickadee (top of page) are year-round residents here in southeast Virginia, and they will frequent your feeders year-round too. But I think they are much more conspicuous at our feeders during the winter months when their food sources away from your feeder are more limited. They love black oil sunflower seeds, and the Titmouse especially loves peanuts. Both these birds give the familiar dee-dee-dee call as well as their other unique calls, and since they are cousins in the same bird family, they often hang out together in the same feeding flocks.

One of my favorite bird families is the Nuthatches. Nuthatches are small birds that creep along tree limbs and trunks, prying under the bark for food. They’ll walk upside-down, sideways, and whatever way it takes to find what they want. Three kinds of nuthatches occur in the eastern United States and Virginia: the White-breasted Nuthatch, the Red-breasted Nuthatch and the Brown-headed Nuthatch. I have seen all three at my Chesapeake feeder; they too love sunflower seeds and peanuts.

The White-breasted Nuthatch (above) is the common nuthatch of deciduous eastern woods and forests, and the most widespread. It has a distinctive nasally “tin horn” call that is easy to learn, and will alert you to its presence when you hear it.

The Brown-headed Nuthatch is restricted to the southeastern United States and lives in pine woods, where its primary food source is pine seeds. Since it has a restricted range, it is a highly sought-after species for birders who do not live here. Where I live and work in Chesapeake, there are tall pines, and at both places I have heard these little guys chattering as they dance through the treetops looking for food and talking to each other. (Their chatter sounds like a squeaky rubber duck, very distinctive, and very joyful when a lot of them are talking at the same time!). Even though I heard them in my yard for years, it wasn’t until last year that they started coming down out of the treetops to my feeders, but now that they’ve discovered them, they are regular visitors.

The rarest nuthatch by far in southeastern Virginia is the Red-breasted. They breed at higher elevations, including the Virginia mountains, and in more northern and western regions. They migrate in the fall, but they do not occur in southeast Virginia every year. They are irregular fall and winter visitors here, and occasionally we have an “invasion” year when they arrive in larger numbers. Two or three years ago I hosted at least two of the beauties all winter long; their preferred food was the whole shelled peanuts in my peanut feeder. As you see from this photo (taken last week in my yard), they also love sunflower seeds.

Winter is Sparrow Season in Virginia! While we do have sparrow species that are residents here all year, they are supplemented in the winter by a variety of species that come here from the north. Many people find the sparrow family to be a confusing array of little brown birds that all look alike, but let me show you two distinctive, easy-to-identify sparrow species that you are likely to see at your feeders. In winter they are the most common sparrows in my own yard, the White-throated Sparrow and the Slate-colored Junco.

If you can get reasonably close to the White-throated Sparrow (below), you can’t help but notice its bright white throat, the stripes on its head, and the bright yellow lores (the area in front of its eyes).

The Slate-colored Junco (below) is one of several junco subspecies that occur in North America, and the only one we’re likely to see in Virginia. They breed in the mountains and in the north, and migrate to the lowlands in winter. This photo is of a bright adult male; the female has the same markings but she is more faded and less bold.

Sparrows are ground feeders and do not usually eat from the feeders we hang up, unless the feeder has a wide platform. I have a separate ground feeder that sits on my patio for them; they eat from that, and they eat seeds from the hanging feeders that have fallen to the ground.

I put out two special feeders just for finches. Finches will eat regular seed, but they also love Niger seed, also known as thistle seed. Thistle seed is relatively expensive, but since the seeds are so small, a little bit lasts a long time. I use both a tube feeder and a “sock” feeder for thistle seed.

There are many different kinds of finches; we have House Finches and American Goldfinches all year. They are comfortable in residential areas, and House Finches will build their nests right on your house. A pair has used the wreath outside my front door as a nesting spot for years, and even though they fly away in a panic every time I open the door, they return faithfully. Several people have told me that the finches build their nests in their hanging potted plants, or right on top of their front door casing, causing them to use their back doors for a few weeks so as not to disturb the process.

House Finches are pretty plain-looking brown streaky little birds; the males at least have a variable wash of red or reddish-orange coloring on their head, chest and rump. The females have no pizzazz at all, but the males love them anyway. (Male, left : Female, right)

In some years we get winter “invasions” of other kinds of finches here in Tidewater, although not nearly as many as regions further to the west. In three of the past eight winters I have seen Pine Siskins in my Chesapeake yard. At first glance, Pine Siskins look a lot like House Finches, but if you look closely you will see the varying degrees of yellow in their plumage, especially in the wings, and a much narrower and pointy bill when compared with the House Finch’s conical bill. Pine Siskins are very common in the west, but are a rare treat here.

Pine Siskin

Mixed group of Pine Siskins and American Goldfinches

I’ll continue with more about feeder birds in upcoming blog entries. If you’d like me to share some of your favorite photos or stories, please call me at 410-7141, or drop me an e-mail at kkearney@chesapeake.lib.va.us. In the meantime, good birding, and keep your feeders – and birdbaths – full!

IT’S OCTOBER: SHOULD I TAKE DOWN MY HUMMINGBIRD FEEDER?

2010-10-17T16:56:00.000-07:00

Every autumn people tell me they’re taking down their hummingbird feeders for the season. It’s an old wives tale that if you leave your feeders up, the birds will not migrate. This is simply not true; no matter what, a healthy bird will follow its intense and primal instinct to migrate, and a birdfeeder will not delay that process. (Above: Female Ruby-throated Hummingbird in my Chesapeake yard)

But there is good reason to keep your hummingbird feeders up through the fall and winter. Every year there are a very few humming birds that do winter in Virginia, and they actually need our feeders far more than the summer birds do. The winter birds will not find natural sources of nectar, so their only chance of survival is to find a fresh and unfrozen hummingbird feeder to help them through those tough months.

It’s true that winter hummingbirds are quite rare in Virginia, and I myself have never had the honor of hosting one. But every year, a lucky few who do keep their feeders full attract one of these beauties. Wintering hummingbirds fall into two categories: those that are common here in the summer months and those that do not normally occur here at all. The first category, of course, is the Ruby-throated Hummingbird, the only hummingbird that breeds in the eastern United States. This is the species you see at Virginia feeders and gardens from April to late-September when they migrate south. (Photo of male Ruby-throat, above, courtesy of http://www.wikipedia.com/).

I mourn the Ruby-throats’ disappearance every October, and miss their antics; it’s great entertainment in the early fall to watch the year’s hatchlings learning how to be grown-ups. Ruby-throats are highly territorial and feisty, and they teach their young to be the same way. They muster up all the machismo they can and “play war” with each other, defending the best perches and the best nectar sources, and showing off for the ladies. And then one day, they’re just gone from my yard.

Most Ruby-throats winter in Mexico, Central America, and on Caribbean islands. Those that go to Mexico fly non-stop for 18-20 hours across the Gulf of Mexico, an absolutely remarkable feat. But a few do remain each year in the Gulf states and the Outer Banks of North Carolina, and, very rarely, one might stay along the Virginia coast, like the one in the photo, left, that spent all of last winter at a Sandbridge feeder. As you can see, this individual looks nothing like the splendid adult male with the showy red throat; most of the hummingbirds we see in the winter are “immature” birds that have the duller, plain plumage of the females.

The second category of hummingbirds that we hope for in the winter are the rarities, the vagrants from the western U.S. that have migrated here by an accident of nature. Instead of migrating south through the western states, a few always get turned around and head east instead. With luck, some find a feeder to sustain them through the winter , and what could have been bad news for the bird becomes a bonanza for birdwatchers, especially those who like to keep a “count” of all the species they have seen, and give chase to the rare birds that show up in their region. If a homeowner is hosting a rare winter hummingbird and shares this information with the birding community, he can expect anywhere from a few dozen to a few hundred human visitors who want to see the bird and add it to their “bird list.”

The most common of the western hummingbirds that occasionally shows up in Virginia is the Rufous Hummingbird. It breeds west of the Rocky Mountains, and was the most common hummingbird where I lived in western Oregon. Just last week, a beautiful subadult male Rufous or Allen's Hummingbird (the two are difficult to distinguish until they are in full adult plumage) showed up at Mark Mullins' feeder in Claytor Lake (Pulaski County), and undoubtedly a few more will be reported over the next few months. Mark took some gorgeous pictures of his bird, and graciously gave me permission to post them here (Thank you, Mark). The photo above is a picture from http://www.wikipedia.com/ of an adult Rufous Hummingbird. The following two are of Mark's bird; notice the subadult bird's gorget feathers just barely starting to grow in. Be sure to click on Mark's picture to see a larger version.

In December 2008, I made a run to Lynchburg to see a Calliope Hummingbird that a homeowner was hosting at his feeder. The Calliope too is a bird that breeds only west of the Rockies (left is an old photo I took of a male when I lived in Oregon). The Calliope is our smallest hummingbird, a tiny 3 ¼” long, and this little guy took a wrong turn on his way to Mexico and wound up in, of all places, Lynchburg, where winters are freezing cold! The homeowners there took extreme measures to keep their feeder ready for that little hummer; they strung up some kind of warming light that they found at a feed store to prevent the sugar water from freezing during the day. Every night they took the feeder inside, and then got up early in the morning to hang it back up for their guest. That Calliope survived there for several months before it migrated back to wherever it belonged.

Here is my very poor picture of the Lynchburg Calliope. You can see that it is a female or an immature bird that lacks the distinctive plumage of the adult male above. The female and immature plumages of many hummingbird species are very similar, and it’s often difficult to make a positive identification by sight alone. Sometimes when a rare hummingbird is sited here, a hummingbird bander is called upon, especially if the bird might be a very rare species. He captures the bird by placing a sugar water feeder inside a cage and closing the door when the bird goes inside to drink; he examines the bird in hand, takes its measurements, checks on its health, and confirms its species before releasing it again.

Other rare hummingbirds that have visited Virginia feeders include Allen’s (photo of an immature California Allen's, left) and Black-chinned Hummingbirds. Again, your chances of seeing a winter hummingbird in your Chesapeake yard are slim at best, but they are absolutely zilch if you don’t put out a feeder. True, you have to replace the sugar water every day during freezing temperatures, but for me that’s a small price to pay if you save a lost bird. Now, about hummingbird feeders:

For some reason stores still sell a product they call “hummingbird nectar” that makes a red liquid when mixed with water. It was established years ago that adding a red dye to the water can only harm the birds, and is completely unnecessary. All they need is sugar water: put ¼ cup of sugar in a measuring cup then fill cup with water to the 1-cup line. Then stir well a few times until the sugar dissolves completely. You don’t need anything else. The hummingbirds do not need red water to find your feeder; the red parts of your feeder are completely adequate in getting their attention.

Maybe if all of us keep a feeder out for a few more weeks or months, one of us will be lucky enough to attract a hummingbird! Let’s try – and if you do see one, please call me right away at the Chesapeake Library (Karen @ 410-7147) and I’ll come out and take a look. (And you can decide if you want to share your bird with others; I won't spread the word without your consent). Good luck!

Fall Birding at the Eastern Shore

2010-09-22T08:14:00.000-07:00

When I graduated from library school and was deciding upon places to apply for work, I chose Chesapeake as a possibility even though I had never been here. But I did know of some of the excellent natural areas nearby, and for me that was a big draw in choosing my future home. The Dismal Swamp, the Eastern Shore and especially the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, the 17-mile engineering wonder which connects Virginia Beach to the Eastern Shore of Virginia, are nationally known “hotspots” among people in the birding community, and I knew of these places even when I lived on the left coast. When I did move here, I started taking birding trips to the Bay Bridge-Tunnel and the Eastern Shore at least once a week. (Photos of Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, left and below: courtesy http://www.cbbt.com/)

The Bay Bridge-Tunnel, a hotspot? Absolutely! During bird migrations, many birds land on its four “islands” to rest as they cross the water, especially if the weather is rough. (The islands are the manmade areas at each of the points where the road descends from the bridge down into the tunnels). And during the winter, these islands are an outstanding spot from which to scope wintering ducks and seabirds that are difficult to find from land. I’ve heard that over 400 different species of birds have been seen from these islands, including many impressive rarities.

For years, anyone who wanted to bird from the three northernmost islands would write to the Bay Bridge Authority and request authorization to do so for the coming calendar year (the southernmost island has a gift shop and restaurant, and anyone can stop there anytime). Each time we wanted to bird, we would show our letter of permission, vehicle registration, and driver’s license at the check-in station, and be able to bird to our heart’s content; I loved birding there. Unfortunately, everything changed after the September 11 terrorist attacks. The Bay Bridge Authority withdrew permission for anyone to stop on the three northern islands unless they are accompanied by a security guard that costs $50 an hour. For me, that’s prohibitive, so I’m not able to bird at one of my favorite places anymore. It’s a real sore spot among birders, because any yahoo with a boat and a cooler of beer can pull his boat up to the islands to fish, with no restrictions. But that’s another story…
Harlequin Duck at Bay Bridge-Tunnel

On to the Eastern Shore-- The southern tip of Delmarva is renowned as a major concentration point for migrants. Think about it: Delmarva tapers from a wide body of land further north in Delaware and Maryland down to its end at Wise Point, where the Bridge-Tunnel terminates. Birds that are migrating south down the peninsula reach Wise Point and are reluctant to cross the Chesapeake Bay, especially in rough weather or when a front is coming through, so they stall until conditions improve. There is actually a bit of a reverse migration when the birds stall; many reach the water in the morning (songbirds migrate mostly at night), turn around, and circle back north a few miles to land and seek refuge for the day. That’s when every birder who has a beating heart wants to be at the Eastern Shore, to witness these “fallouts” of migratory birds. The best-known places to search are the Eastern Shore of Virginia National Wildlife Refuge, Sunset Beach, and especially Kiptopeke State Park, all within five miles of Wise Point. Early morning is the best time, by far.

The Coastal Virginia Wildlife Observatory (http://www.cvwo.org) maintains a songbird banding station, a hawk banding station and a hawkwatch research station at Kiptopeke. Anyone can visit these stations during the August-November bird migration period; their volunteers and staff provide free daily public education about the birds they band, and it’s fascinating to watch them at work. They set up special mist nets in strategic places (these are like very fine volleyball nets), and capture birds that fly into the nets without doing any injury to the birds. Every fifteen minutes or so, staff retrieve the birds from the nets, and take them to the banding station, where they weigh, measure, and band the birds before releasing them again into the wild. The whole process takes only a few minutes. The scientific data they gather is critical to our understanding of the health of our bird populations. For people who don’t often observe birds in the wild, this is also a wonderful way to learn about and see different bird species up close and personal. My friend Nancie and I visited them last September, and she took all the pictures that follow:

Top left: Warbler in a mist net / Top right: Blowing the belly feathers to check the bird's fat reserves / Second row left: Weighing the bird / Second row right: Checking the bird's condition and health / Third row left: Black-throated Blue Warbler being banded / Third row right: Ovenbird / Bottom left: Yellow-breasted Chat with something to say / Bottom right: Gray Catbird being measured.

Kiptopeke is also the home of a famous hawkwatch, where experts come every day in the fall to count migrating raptors, including hawks, falcons, eagles and osprey (photo, above, courtesy of www.cvwo.org). The peak of hawk migration is probably late-September to mid-October but extends well into November. Kiptopeke regularly posts the largest bird numbers of any hawkwatch station in the entire country! Again, this is owed largely to the physical geography of the Delmarva Peninsula, which funnels the migrating birds and concentrates them in a small area at the peninsula’s tip, where the hawkwatchers and hawk counters await. These experts are amazing, and so skilled; they can identify a raptor that’s half a mile in the air by its wings shape and flight pattern alone. You can learn so much by spending a little time listening to these guys.

(Above : Merlin at the Eastern Shore: see the band on its leg?)

The best time to witness the bird migration on the Eastern Shore is now. To be sure, there are many days even in September when there is little bird activity, but there are also days that are a nature watcher’s dream, and the trees and skies are filled with birds. Everything depends on the weather. If the weather is warm, sunny and stagnant, the birds are less likely to stop and they fly right over the Eastern Shore. If there is some turbulence or a cold front, chances are you’ll see some good birds. Try taking a trip to Kiptopeke at 7:00 a.m. sometime this month, and let me know what happens!

WHAT’S THAT AT MY BIRDFEEDER? (Part I)

2010-08-20T10:20:00.000-07:00

I remember the day I became a birdwatcher, back in the early 80’s. I lived in Oregon and I was an outdoors-kind-of-girl already, so when my future ex-husband and I planned our first vacation together we made it all about nature. We drove down the Oregon coast, into the California Redwoods, King’s Canyon, Yosemite National Park, and eventually made our way over to Arizona and the Grand Canyon. We bought three Audubon field guides for the trip: one about trees, one about wildflowers, and one about birds. We knew nothing about any of the three.

It was November, so walking the trails at Yosemite was not only incredibly beautiful, but the swarms of tourists were gone and we had the place to ourselves. The cold, clean air smelled of autumn, and the trees had lost most, but not all, of their yellow and red leaves. It was absolutely magical. I can still see in my mind’s eye the trail we were on when we looked over at a small puddle and noticed a beautiful blue crested bird taking a bath; in size it was somewhere between a robin and a crow. It was the first time I really took a moment to see a bird, admire its vivid colors and look it in the eye, and I couldn’t wait to see if I could find a picture of it in our field guide and put a name to it. I was thrilled when I was able to identify it as a Stellar’s Jay (photo above); to this day I have a special place in my heart for that species because it was my first real birdwatching bird.

My interest in birdwatching blossomed from that point, and soon we started putting birdfeeders up in our Portland yard. We quickly attracted a wide variety of seed-eating birds -- Black-capped Chickadees, Scrub Jays, Black-headed and Evening Grosbeaks, Golden-crowned Sparrows, Spotted Towhees and Band-tailed Pigeons to name a few. Rufous Hummingbirds came to the sugar water.

What do all those birds have in common? You will not see any of them here in southeastern Virginia. Most bird species have restricted ranges where they occur; something that is common in one state might not be found at all in its neighboring state. What is common in the western half of the country might not occur east of the Rocky Mountains, and vice versa. Some species like Mourning Doves, Downy Woodpeckers, Great Horned Owls and American Goldfinches do occur throughout North America, but most birds do not; their ranges are more limited.

So when I reluctantly moved with that future ex-husband from Oregon to Alabama, my silver lining was that I would get to explore new regions and see new and different species of birds. What I found in many cases was that the western species that were familiar to me had eastern “cousins” or counterparts; the “cousins” belong to the same family of birds but have evolved into different and distinct species, shaped by different environments, climates, food supplies,

Western Tanager (left) and Summer Tanager (right)

and a host of other factors. For example, the Western Tanager makes its home in the western states, but here in the southeast you’ll find the Summer Tanager instead. In eastern Virginia we have the Carolina Chickadee (below, right), but to the west of us you’ll find the Black-capped Chickadee (below, left). Same bird family and very similar in appearance, but genetically they are different species.

Someone suggested that I make a list of some of the most common birds that come to my Chesapeake birdfeeders, and share that with you all. Of course different species come at different seasons; the birds are entirely different in the winter than they are in the summer, and during spring and fall migrations there are always some surprises and a few rarities moving through. That being said, here are five birds that you’re likely to see in your Chesapeake yard; I will share more in my next blog entries:

The Northern Cardinal is a permanent resident here; you will see it all twelve months of the year as it does not migrate. While it is one of the most common and best known birds in the eastern states, it does not occur at all west of Colorado. The male is vivid red with a black mask; the female is a much more muted shade of orangish-red. Both sport a distinctive crest on their heads. During the day there is always at least one Cardinal in my yard, and right now, at least a dozen Cardinals congregate at my feeders every night at twilight to grab that last meal; they’re always the last bird to leave my yard at the end of the day.

The male American Goldfinch’s yellow plumage is just as vivid and striking as the Cardinal’s red plumage. If you happen to see these two birds next to each other on a sunny summer day, you can’t help but be awed that these colors are possible in nature. The Goldfinch is a very familiar bird in our area, and if you hang a thistle seed feeder, it won’t be long before these guys find you. As summer wanes and your flowers start going to seed, you will see Goldfinches on the seedheads extracting a meal; they are especially fond of zinnias and coneflowers. As with the Cardinals, the female Goldfinch is less brightly colored than the male, and she lacks the black “cap” that is so prominent on the male. Goldfinches do lose their bright colors in the winter, and fade to a pale version of themselves, but it’s fun to watch them in the spring as their breeding plumage returns a few feathers at a time-- they look like a patchwork quilt!

Winter Goldfinch (left); Summer Goldfinch on right (photo by Nancie Laing)

The Northern Mockingbird is another very common bird in our region. When I lived in Oregon, one or two would turn up as vagrants every year, but for the most part Mockingbirds are a more eastern bird. Almost every Virginian with a yard has a Mockingbird that has taken up residence nearby. They do not eat seeds or visit your seed feeders, but I feed mine apples (partially peeled) and a peanut butter concoction that I make (recipe is at the end of this posting). Mockingbirds are the champion “mimic” birds; they make more different kinds of sounds than almost any other bird, and they do mimic other birds’ calls. In the right season they will sing all 24 hours of the day, right through the night and usually right outside your bedroom window. Males and females have identical plumages. It’s easy to recognize one in flight by the prominent white edges on its long tail, and the white patches in the wings. (Photo of Mockingbird by Nancie Laing)

Everyone knows the distinctive Blue Jay when they see one. It is the only species of Jay that we have here in Virginia. They are rare in the western states when they occur at all; there they are replaced by other species of jays, including the Stellar’s Jay that I mentioned at the beginning of this posting, the Scrub Jay, and the Gray Jay in the mountains. Blue Jays are year round residents that do not migrate, and males and females look the same. If you suddenly hear a group of jays calling and getting excited, you will know that there is a predator nearby, usually a hawk or an owl, and that the jays are “mobbing” and trying to chase it away. They are the watchdogs of the birding world.

Five different species of woodpeckers have graced my yard. The one I see most frequently is probably the Red-bellied Woodpecker (An odd choice of name, as a red belly is certainly not its most prominent feature). They love suet and the peanut butter concoction that I make, and they also take sunflower seeds. Like other woodpecker species, they will “stash” food for an emergency winter food supply. I watched one summer as they tirelessly took peanuts from my feeder, flew across the street to the neighbor’s house, and stashed them – hundreds of them -- under the shingles at the peak of their roof. I do hope the neighbor never had occasion to discover this bounty…

More about the birds next time. In the meantime, let me share my peanut butter recipe with you. The birds love it, so be warned that if you start offering this treat to them they will devour as much as you can put out, especially during breeding season when they’re feeding their young, and during the winter when they need extra energy. It’s simple:

Combine 4 cups cornmeal, and 1 cup each of white flour, Crisco
vegetable shortening, and chunky peanut butter. Knead it
with your hands until it’s well-mixed and a little sticky.

I make “plugs” of this mixture, which I press into the holes of the log feeder you see in the picture of the woodpecker, above. The feeder is a 14” section of a red cedar branch; one-inch holes have been drilled into it for the plugs, and an eyebolt has been screwed into one end so the feeder can be hung from a hook. If you don’t have a feeder like this, you can buy one on eBay as I have, make one yourself, or you can put the peanut butter mixture out in some other fashion, for example pressing it into pine cones and hanging the pine cones in a tree.

You can find a lot of ideas about how to attract birds to your yard and feed them by browsing the library’s books in the non-fiction section; try the books with Dewey numbers of 639.978, and the general bird books in the 598 area.

A CHESAPEAKE BUTTERFLY GARDEN

2010-07-10T10:21:00.000-07:00

I love taking little trips to different parts of Virginia to find different species of wildlife. But in Chesapeake you really don’t even need to leave home to find interesting things. I have lived in a pretty typical suburban neighborhood in Chesapeake for almost eight years, and during that time I’ve seen 96 different species of birds in my yard, and 53 different species of butterflies, including this Tiger Swallowtail (Virginia's state insect). Not bad!

I also “raise and release” different kinds of butterflies right in my yard; this has become a popular past-time among many butterfly enthusiasts. Since 2005, I have raised and released a total of 2954 butterflies of 19 different species; I counted the totals today just for this blog. (Hey, I’m a librarian and I keep records of everything!) I raise these butterflies from caterpillars I find on the plants in my yard. I collect the caterpillars, place them in a screen cage, and feed them until they go into their chrysalis stage. After a couple of weeks in chrysalis, a new butterfly emerges.

To illustrate, here are some photos of the different stages of a Question Mark butterfly I raised; on the left, the caterpillars I found on my hops vine; on the right, the chrysalis, and in the center, the adult butterfly:

It’s not just by chance that the different kinds of caterpillars I collect find their way to my yard; I started the process by planting the appropriate native plants that attract the butterflies that lay the eggs. Each different species of butterfly lays its eggs only on a certain type of plant (called the “host plant”), because the caterpillars that hatch from the eggs can only survive by eating that particular plant. One of the host plants for the Question Mark butterfly is the hops vine, so I planted one for the purpose of attracting them to my yard.

The trick to getting butterflies in your garden, then, is two-fold: First, you want flowering “nectar” plants for adult butterflies to feed on, which most people know about (If you can only have only one flowering shrub in your yard, make it either a Butterfly Bush or Lantana; you will be amply rewarded with butterflies). Second, you want the butterfly’s’ host plants if you want them to lay eggs and produce caterpillars.

How do you know what the host plants are for different species? The two best sources I know are 1) a list of Tidewater butterflies and their host plants published on the Butterfly Society of Virginia’s website (http://www.butterflysocietyofva.org/ ; take the link to “Host Plants in VA"), and 2) a wonderful book by Doug Tallamy called “Bringing Nature Home: How Native Plants Sustain Wildlife In Our Gardens.” This highly readable and surprisingly entertaining book is full of information about the kinds of plants that attract different kinds of wildlife including butterflies. I highly recommend it.

A symbiotic relationship has evolved over countless millennium between wildlife and plant life, so it's not surprising to learn that most of the butterfly host plants are plants that are native to their particular region. If you plant a plant that comes to us from China, our adult butterflies might drink nectar from its flowers, but our caterpillars will not be able to survive on its foliage and the species will not reproduce.

In my garden I have a mix of flowering plant for nectar, and native host plants for the caterpillars; I’ve planted a Pawpaw tree which is the host plant for the Zebra Swallowtail, two Spicebushes for the Spicebush Swallowtail, milkweed for Monarchs, passion vine for fritillaries, fennel and rue for Black Swallowtails, Wild Cherry trees for Tiger Swallowtails and Red-spotted Purple butterflies, a Hackberry tree for American Snout, and many more. Most nurseries do not carry a wide variety of native plant stock, but you can purchase most of the plants you need at plant sales hosted by the local Master Gardeners organizations (http://www.vmga.net/), the Butterfly Society of Virginia (http://www.butterflysocietyofva.org/) , and the Virginia Native Plant Society (http://www.vnps.org/). I have also had success ordering native plants online through nurseries that specialize in natives.

Here are pictures of some of my "children," the caterpillars and the adults:

The Spicebush Swallowtail caterpillar you see here (above) uses "fright" as a defense. The "eyes" that you see are supposed to make the caterpillar look like a snake and scare away potential predators. The "eyes" are not eyes at all; they are clever pigmentation on the skin, including the white "sparkles" in the black "pupils." This strange-looking little thing turns into the gorgeous butterfly you see on the right.

The spectacular Zebra Swallowtail uses only leaves of the Pawpaw tree as its host plant. This is the first year I finally found some of its caterpillars (above) on my Pawpaw tree, and I'm thrilled to have raised and released ten of them so far.

The alien-looking creature below is the larva (caterpillar) of the Silver-spotted Skipper. Be sure to look at this one in an enlarged version (just click on the picture to do this), because it is a strange-looking little guy. These skippers eat Wisteria leaves -- but not the invasive, non-native Wisteria that you see everywhere in April and May. We have a Wisteria that is less aggressive, and is native to Virginia, and this is the type this skipper needs.

Below is an American Lady caterpillar on its host plant, Pearly Everlasting (it also uses Cudweed and Hollyhocks as a host plant). The adult (right) is a very common butterfly in Tidewater, but it has a rare beauty if you look closely.

The two caterpillars most commonly and easily raised by people in the Chesapeake area are Monarchs (host plant is Milkweed) and Eastern Black Swallowtails, which use plants in the carrot family as their host (these include fennel, parsley, Queen Anne’s Lace, dill, and rue). Of all the butterflies I’ve raised and released, almost 2000 of them have been of these two species. If you’re interested in learning how to raise and release butterflies, these are the species you should start with; plant some parsley or fennel and the Black Swallowtails (above) will find you. Just remember to plant enough to feed these little eating machines for a couple of weeks.

These are just a few of the gems from my garden. Some people wonder why one would bother to raise the caterpillars themselves rather than just let Mother Nature take her natural course. The benefit to the butterflies is that they have a far greater chance of surviving to adulthood; in the natural world most do not survive due to predation and parasites. Are we upsetting the global balance by releasing more butterflies than nature intended? I believe the answer is no; the numbers we release into the world are less than a drop in the ocean. But we do have a few more butterflies in our gardens than we did before, and we have the joy and satisfaction of witnessing nature's miracles first-hand.

If you are interested in trying your hand at this rewarding and fulfilling process, feel free to send your questions to me. I have a lot more information and suggestions that I can share with you that will help you get started and ensure the success of your butterfly-rearing.

A TALE OF TWO SWAMPS

2010-06-12T11:59:00.000-07:00

Over Memorial Day weekend I took a trip with my friend Nancie to Merchant’s Millpond State Park in Gates County, N.C. Neither of us had ever been there before but had heard that it was a beautiful spot, less than an hour’s drive from Chesapeake. We heard right; this park is gorgeous, and exactly what you picture when you think of a “Southern swamp.” To get there you go south on Highway 17 into North Carolina, then before you get to Elizabeth City you turn right on Highway 158 westbound towards Sunbury. A few miles after the intersection with Highway 32, you’ll see the entrance to Merchant’s Millpond.

The park covers more than 3200 acres in total. It has a visitor’s center, a campsite and picnic area, a fishing dock, canoes and a few other amenities, making it a great spot for a family outing. But the part that we were interested was the foot trail that meanders through the woods that surround the 760-acre millpond, which are rich with old growth bald cypress, and tupelo gum trees draped with Spanish moss. It is the kind of place that inspires reverence and astonishment at a natural place not yet touched by man. Well, not touched too much; although civilization is close by, you can still imagine for a few moments that you are in the forest primeval.
(Above photo taken by Nancie Laing)

Although it was absolutely beautiful, we didn’t see the same numbers of insects and birds here that I usually see at The Dismal Swamp. This surprised me because the two swamps are so close together in distance. Maybe this was because we were there on a particularly hot day, or because it was later in the year than my visits to the Dismal Swamp, but I suspect it’s also because the two places have very different kinds of vegetation and ecosystems, which of course determines the abundance of different animal species.

The state line between Virginia and North Carolina is the boundary where the environment changes ever so slightly, but enough that American Alligators do not thrive north of that boundary. Merchant's Millpond is the northernmost extent of the alligator's habitat; the ranger at the park told us that there are only about four alligators in the park, but they are in fact a permanent and sustainable population. Alligators do occasionally wander north into Virginia and into the Dismal Swamp, but they do not survive there or reproduce because there are just a few more cold days during the year than there are south of the state line. Such small differences can have an enormous impact on wildlife.

I did see an alligator a couple of years ago (above) as I was driving west from Manteo (N.C.) on Highway 64. It was in the water right along the highway, and as I zipped past it, my brain registered what I saw, and I turned around and went back to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated or mistaken a log for an alligator. Here’s his photo; this guy was a good six feet long, and I was surprised to learn they occurred this far north.

Back at Merchant’s Millpond, we saw no alligators, but one of the highlights for us was this Yellow-bellied Slider that was about to lay eggs in a hole she dug right on the trail. Look at the mosses that are attached to her shell; it’s like she decorated herself for the occasion! We were glad when she left before laying her eggs, because they would not have survived there with all the foot traffic.

We did see a handful of birds (Prothonotary Warblers being the most common; here’s one I photographed in Alabama), and a few dragonflies and butterflies , but I wasn’t able to get many other photographs. So the rest of the pictures I’m going to share with you (below) were taken at the Dismal Swamp this year in the latter half of May. I'm sure that all these species do occur at Merchant's Millpond as well; they just weren't there on the same day we were.

First, a few different types of dragonflies:

This is a female Eastern Pondhawk (great name, huh?) How do I know it's a female? The male looks completely different, with a blue pruinose body that fades into a green thorax and head. Pondhawks are very very common in Tidewater, and start appearing in May. They're a member of the "Skimmer" family of dragonflies, which usually perch horizontally in the open like this one, are easy to see, and are relatively easy to photograph. Below is the male:

The dragonfly below is a Swamp Darner, a species in the Darner family (think darning needle). These are abundant in the Dismal Swamp now, and are constantly in motion overhead. They are difficult to photograph because they don't land often, and when they do they perch vertically, usually on a tree branch in the woods where you can't get to them. This one is eating a ladybug.

Darners are our largest dragonflies; the smallest Odonata are the damselflies, those tiny needle-like things that usually hover close to the ground. They are difficult to photograph because of their size, but if you can get a clear photo you can see all the minute markings that distinguish one species from another. The damselfly below is one of the "bluets," a Turquoise Bluet about 1 inch long. This was the first of this species I've ever seen, and it was along Washington Ditch at the Dismal Swamp on May 14.

Back to butterflies -- Two kinds of Pearly-eyes occur in the Dismal Swamp, the Southern and the Creole Pearly-eyes. (A third kind, the Northern Pearly-eye, occurs to the west of us in the Piedmont and the mountains). I took these photos at the Swamp on May 14; the Creole is on the left and the Southern is on the right. See if you can pick out some of the differences between the two. (Remember, you can click on any of these pictures to get an enlarged version for better viewing).

I'll end this posting with the best picture I've ever managed to take of an Eastern Comma. I've mentioned the Comma in an earlier post; it is named for the small white "comma" mark that appears on its underwing. Like the Pearly-eyes, it does not usually appear in suburban gardens, but is a common breeder in The Swamp.

We have these wonderful southern swamps right here in our own back yards. Take some time to visit them, discover their beauty, and observe life you didn't know existed. Heck, try to take a picture of what you see! It will only enrich your life.

A TRIP TO HIGHLAND COUNTY (CUT SHORT)

2010-05-24T12:42:00.000-07:00

If you’re a nature watcher, everything depends upon the weather. I made plans months ago to spend a few days in the mountains of Highland County (west of Staunton) during the second week of May, with dreams of seeing new kinds of butterflies and maybe dragonflies that we don’t see in the Tidewater area, and to catch some of the bird migration. May is the most exciting time of year to see new spring arrivals, but it is also one of the most temperamental months weather-wise. It’s a roll of the dice and a prayer to make plans before you have a weather forecast in your hands.

This was definitely a “good news/bad news” trip. By the time I got to the mountains on Saturday, it was getting cold and the winds were picking up with gusto. Sunday was ridiculous; winds were steady and ferocious and there was frost on my windshield in the morning. Monday it started raining, and Tuesday it started pouring; I cursed my bad luck in choice of vacation days, and drove home a day early, defeated.

That was the bad news, but there was good news too. Although I obviously did not see any insect life as I had hoped, I saw many birds that I haven’t seen in a while, and reconnected with my first love, which was birdwatching (or as we like to call it, “birding” – a less nerdy-sounding word). Birds are very energized in the spring, either migrating to points further north, or beginning their breeding activity here, and unlike the insects, they don’t mind a bit of cold weather.

While you can see signs of songbird migration almost anywhere in Virginia, it is especially exciting and concentrated along the Blue Ridge and Appalachian flyways. The mountains are a natural visual and navigational route, and birds funnel along this corridor in larger numbers than they do in more open habitats. And a wider variety of songbirds breed in the Piedmont and higher altitudes than in the hot and oppressive lowlands of Tidewater.

Almost any birder will tell you that if he must pick a favorite family of songbirds, he will pick the wood warblers. Warblers are truly the jewels of the bird kingdom, tiny little bursts of vivid color and song that occur only in the New World. I mean no disrespect to other kinds of songbirds, but I often gauge the success of a birding trip by the number of warbler species that I saw or heard. Birders boast about those special times when weather conditions were just right and produced “25-warbler days.” On this trip, I managed to see 18 kinds of warblers in the mountains, and this was definitely a highlight. The picture at the beginning of this entry is of a Chestnut-sided Warbler, a plentiful breeding species in our high altitudes; this one was singing vociferously at Paddy’s Knob. Let me introduce you to a few more that I was able to capture with my camera:

The only reliable place in all of Virginia to see Golden-winged Warblers (above) is in the Blue Grass Valley in Highland County. They breed on the property of someone who happens to be a birder and knew what these birds were when she saw them. She has been kind enough to share this information with the rest of us, and most of the birders in Virginia make an annual pilgrimage to the Blue Grass Valley just to see these birds in the spring and summer.

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Unlike most other warblers, the Ovenbird (above) is a ground-dweller. It forages on the ground, whereas most other warblers remain high in the treetops. It also builds its nest on the ground; the nest looks like a tiny Dutch oven built of grasses, in the shape of a dome with a side entrance, thus the name “Ovenbird.”

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Probably the most common warbler in the mountains is the American Redstart (above). I remember talking with a birder years ago who saw one of these beauties and proclaimed it to be “JUST a Redstart.” Since they are relatively common, they are sometimes considered to be not as “exciting” as other warblers. But look at this jewel! I am happy to see one anytime, and will never call it “just” a Redstart.

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Our Virginia mountains are also full of Black-throated Green Warblers. They are another high-elevation bird, but there is also an uncommon race of this warbler called the “Wayne’s Warbler” that is restricted to the South Atlantic coastal plain from southeastern Virginia to South Carolina, and it breeds in the Dismal Swamp.

Here are some other “non-warbler” birds I saw that you might recognize:

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Rose-breasted Grosbeak

(Some migrate through Tidewater but they do not breed here)

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Indigo Bunting

(You can find these throughout Virginia in most habitats)

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American Goldfinch (female)

> Blue-headed Vireo

(a mountain breeder that sometimes winters in Tidewater)

5 useful books for birding in The Blue Ridge and Highland County:

Birder’s Guide to Virginia by David W. Johnston (Indispensable, and the only book currently in print about where to bird in Virginia. Chesapeake Public Library has ordered some copies)

Discover Our Wild Side: Virginia Birding and Wildlife Trail by the Virginia Department of Games and Inland Fisheries (This was published in 3 regional guides: Virginia’s Coastal Areas, the Piedmont, and the Mountains. A terrific resource for learning where to find Virginia wildlife; available at the library)

Virginia Atlas & Gazetteer by DeLorme (You need a good topographic map to travel some of the back roads in Highland County)

The Sibley Field Guide to Birds of Eastern North America by David Sibley. (The Sibley bird field guides and the National Geographic guides are my favorites).

Birds of Shenandoah National Park, Blue Ridge Parkway, and Great Smoky Mountains National Park: A Field Guide by Ernest Preston Edwards.

MORE CRITTERS FROM THE GREAT DISMAL SWAMP

2010-05-03T08:34:00.000-07:00

It is hard to get a good picture of a bird at The Dismal Swamp. The place is full of birds and bird song right now, as spring migration is in full swing. The place is also full of bird watchers! The Dismal Swamp is known nationally as a prime birding place, and people come from all over Virginia and other states to add different bird species to their “life lists” and their “year lists.”

But if you’re going to bird at The Swamp, you must learn the songs of the different birds, because you will hear far more birds than you will see. The Swamp is so dense with trees, swamps, shrubs and other foliage that most birds remain well hidden from view. I was very lucky to get the photo (above) of the White-eyed Vireo.

Bird watchers adding birds to their lists learn the birds’ songs before they ever go out into the field, and are able to recognize and “count” far more birds by voice than by sight. There are plenty of excellent tapes and CDs available on the market to help one learn bird songs; some include narrators giving helpful instruction to help you to distinguish one song from another. My favorites have always been the Peterson “Birding by Ear” and “More Birding by Ear” sets (Eastern editions); these really helped me when I moved to the east coast.

The birds are definitely there now to listen to, but since I can’t get many pictures, I will show you some of the other life that I’ve seen this month in The Swamp that’s easier to photograph!

I’ve indentified three different kinds of turtles this spring at The Swamp. The photo above is of a Yellow-bellied Slider; below are an Eastern Painted Turtle (note the red stripes on the legs; this is diagnostic), and a Spotted Turtle. This one is lightly spotted; some are much more striking.

As you know, I love getting a good picture of a dragonfly! This one is called a Painted Skimmer. Their bright gold coloring is absolutely striking against the green darkness of The Swamp.

And I can't resist sharing one more picture of a Harlequin Darner, up close and personal. This is still by far the most common dragonfly in The Swamp right now.

Of the butterflies, the large swallowtails are the ones that most people notice. They are showy, colorful, and become active once temperatures reach about 70 degrees. One of everybody’s favorites is the gorgeous Zebra Swallowtail. They lay their eggs on the leaves of the Pawpaw tree, which is the sole food source of the caterpillar, and there are plenty of those in The Swamp.

Palamedes Swallowtails (below) are very common now, and will continue to be throughout the summer. Their main host plants are Red Bay and Sweet Bay Magnolia, which are also plentiful in The Swamp. I’ve planted these plants in my own yard to attract them, and have successfully raised their caterpillars.

Less showy is the Carolina Satyr, which is numerous now. This is a butterfly that you would never notice unless you were looking for it; they’re a small, brownish, plain-looking butterfly that stays close to the ground, but take a look at it up close; spectacular!

I end this entry with the humble Dung Beetle; actually it’s also called the Tumblebug or the Scarab Beetle. Much nicer names, so I think I’ll use Tumblebug. If you live somewhere near plentiful supplies of dung, you’ve probably seen thousand of these, but this weekend was my first opportunity to see them at work, rolling this huge ball of manure (huge compared to their own size).

It was fascinating to watch! These guys can roll up to 50 times their weight. I learned that female adults lay a single egg in each ball, then bury the ball so the egg can incubate. When the larva emerges from its egg, it eats its dung abode. The male helps the female in this whole process, and this is the only known case among insects where the male aids in providing for the young.

If you’re like me and want to put a name to everything, you need a field guide or other picture books to refer to, and the library is the place to start. Many of the animal books are in the Children’s Library, but don’t let that dissuade you from checking them out; children’s books are usually more visual, with more pictures, and provide good basic information that’s easy to grasp.

Next week I’m off to the mountains for a few days, and I hope I come back with some more photos to share with you!

EARLY SPRING AND DRAGONFLIES AT THE DISMAL SWAMP

2010-04-12T06:16:00.000-07:00

I planned to write about something else in my second blog entry, something other than visits to The Great Dismal Swamp. But I’ve been there twice this week and once last week, and I’ve seen so many exciting things. I can’t help it – The Swamp is where my heart is right now, so The Swamp is my topic again.

The reason I go there so much this time of year is that things literally change day to day and week to week, and I don’t want to miss anything. Migrant birds might only spend one night there before they continue northward. Breeding birds will be absent one day, and the next day the woods will be filled with their song. Many butterfly and dragonfly species spend only a few weeks in their flying, adult stage; what we see flying in April will be gone in May, to be replaced by another species with a later adult cycle. The foliage literally changes every day. Every trip to The Swamp brings something new, not seen on the previous trip.

Let me introduce you to a few of the early spring dragonflies of The Swamp. Dragonflies and damselflies are absolutely fascinating creatures. The typical dragonfly will have a one-year life, but it is a flying, adult insect for only one month of that time. It begins life as an egg, usually under water, and quickly hatches into the larvae or “nymph stage. It spend most of its life as a nymph, living under water, where it is a voracious predator. When it is ready to emerge into an adult, it undergoes a metamorphosis, crawls out of the water onto a reed or stick, waits a while, then splits open its hard exoskeleton and crawls out of it as an adult dragonfly. After it spends a few hours drying, it flies, feeds, and mates. The female usually lays her eggs in water, and the cycle starts again.

I saw my year’s first dragonfly, a Common Baskettail (above), on March 28 at The Swamp. It is typically the first dragonfly to be seen in early spring in this area, and can be quite common. I’ve seen a couple in my garden this week too. They should stick around for a few months but will be gone by mid-summer.

On my April 3 trip to The Swamp, I was surprised to see a few damselflies hovering along the edges of the water in Jericho Ditch. Damselflies are so tiny and fragile in appearance, that it’s hard to believe some emerge this early in the year and endure unpredictable spring temperatures; they’re not much bigger than a straight pin. Pictured above is a male Fragile Forktail that I saw that day. (Notice the bold “exclamation point” marking on the his thorax). I've also seen these in my yard this week; you probably have them in yours too, but you have to look closely to spot one.

On my April 8 visit to Jericho Ditch, three more species of dragonfly had arrived, the Harlequin Darner, the Springtime Darner, and Common Whitetail.

This is a female Common Whitetail; I noticed that the females seemed to emerge earlier than the males, as I saw only one male to about 20 females. This species is very common all summer long; you should even see them in your yard if you keep an eye out. They perch low to the ground.

This guy is a Springtime Darner, appropriately named because it only flies during the early spring. Because I've only been obsessed with dragonflies for less than a year, I missed seeing this species last year; it was done flying by the time I started paying attention. The turquoise blue markings on the reddish-brown body are a gorgeous combination.

Sunday was a clear, sunny, warm day, and I saw literally thousand of dragonflies; of these, probably 90% were Harlequin Darners. In the mid-morning, I saw them warming up by perching vertically on the sunny side of tree trunks; there were at least a dozen sharing the same tree, positioning for the best rays. Above is a picture of a female (see the amber coloring in her wings?), and below is the more boldly marked male, which has no amber coloring.

The photo at the beginning of this posting is also a close-up of a male Harlequin Darner. You can see how it got its name by looking at the intricate and colorful patterns on its thorax and abdomen.

People ask me how I can identify dragonflies and damselflies. If you're new to dragonfly-watching, it's almost impossible to do so while they are flying (which they do most of the time). If I'm lucky enough to see one land, I try to take its photo first, then study it through my binoculars if I have more time. I usually have to wait until I get home, look at the pictures, and then try to find a match in my field guides before I can determine with any certainty what it is.

Unfortunately there are not many regional field guides yet, as there are for birds and butterflies. Hopefully that will change in the future as interest in dragonflies increases. For now, the best book by far to use in this area is "Dragonflies And Damselflies of Georgia and the Southeast" by Giff Beaton. The Chesapeake Library has ordered a copy of this and should have it soon. This book includes range maps that include southeastern Virginia, so you can determine whether you can expect to find a particular species here in Tidewater. It also include great photos of the males and females of each species.

The library has some good general books about dragonflies available for you to check out. The first book I checked out from the Chesapeake Library was "Dragonflies" by Cynthia Berger, and I loved it -- lots of good information and photos of many of our common species. Another good book full of general information is "A Dazzle of Dragonflies" by Forrest Lee Mitchell. The library also has "Dragonflies of the World" by Jill Silsby, which might not be of help identifying a local species, but is loaded with information about dragonflies around the world.

I also use the internet to search for photos that other dragonfly enthusiasts have published online. I frequently do searches through Google Images, Flickr, and a great website I found called Odonata Central at http://www.odonatacentral.org/. (Odonata is the division of insects that includes the dragonflies)

The next time I go to The Swamp there will undoubtedly be new species out flying, challenging me to capture them on camera. I hope I can be quick enough to meet the challenge; I get such pleasure from a good photo, and learning what it is!

I have not been neglecting the birds and the butterflies; they will be in one of my next postings. Until then, enjoy spring to its fullest, whether you're nature watching, walking, gardening, or just sitting in the sun!

SPRING FEVER AND MARCH OBSERVATIONS OF A NATURE WATCHER

2010-04-01T12:46:00.000-07:00

You know the wise saying, “Don’t wish your life away.” Very profound words, and we all should absolutely pay attention to them, and aspire to live by them.

But I admit, it’s been harder lately. I swear, this has been the longest winter ever, and I’ll cop to wishing a little of it away. While this has been a truly fine winter for seeing some rare winter birds in Hampton Roads, I’m chomping at the bit to roll into spring. I have spring fever so bad my teeth ache!

I’ve been to the Great Dismal Swamp for the last three weekends, trying to hurry spring along. The Swamp is a treasure that we are so lucky to have right here in our own backyard. It covers 112,000 acres of forested wetlands, and is home to everything from Black Bears to Bobcats to 200+ species of birds. The Swamp is my favorite place to go in the spring. Mid-to-late April, May and early June are the most productive times to visit. Bird numbers swell as migration begins, and migrants pass through on their way to points farther north. Resident birds are in full song. The warmer temperatures bring out the bears and other mammals, as well large numbers of insects, reptiles and amphibians.

But, it’s only March. My head knows that Mother Nature will not change the schedule that she has honed to perfection over the past few millenniums just for me. But my heart can’t help it; I desperately want to see a butterfly, a dragonfly --- anything! So off I go to the Swamp.

And, there is life!

The first butterfly I saw at The Swamp this year, in mid-March, was an Eastern Comma. The second was its cousin, the Question Mark. This is not a joke; those are their real names, and my pictures will illustrate why. These two are known as “anglewings” because of the sharp angles and ragged edges of their wings. On the upperwing they look very similar, but on the underwing, look closely and you will see a little white “comma” on the Eastern Comma, and a little white “question mark” on the Question mark.

Both of these guys are quite common in The Swamp. I’ve attracted Questions Marks to my Chesapeake garden by planting hops and a Hackberry tree; these are two of the plants that Question Marks lay their eggs on. The larvae feed on these particular kinds of leaves.

Another early-flying butterfly at The Swamp is the stunning Mourning Cloak. You can stumble upon them in all kinds of habitats early in spring. I saw one at Back Bay last year in January, flying on a warm day.

Yesterday’s warm weather brought out two new butterflies that I hadn’t seen the previous week, the American Snout (the photo explains the name), and Henry’s Elfin.

Henry’s Elfin is a tiny brown butterfly about the size of your thumbnail. If you’re not a butterfly enthusiast, you’ve probably never noticed one. They’re not likely to visit your yard, and they fly early in the spring and are gone by mid-May. But beautiful things come in small packages; when you can get close to one of these tiny jewels, you are rewarded with a beautiful little miracle.

And, what is this? Does anyone out there know about beetles? I saw it yesterday, and it’s so colorful and iridescent that looks like it belongs in the tropics. But here it is, moving about in March in Virginia. Tell me if you know what it is!

It takes time and experience to learn what bird is singing what song, what kinds of butterflies occur here in Virginia, and when and where one can expect to see them. There are two essential components to this learning process: lots of experience out in the field, and studying up before you ever go out. A good field guide will teach you what you might expect to see at a certain time and place, so if you get some knowledge ahead of time, you’re far more likely to recognize what you see when you see it.

I’ve spent hours reading, re-reading and memorizing books and field guides. Hands down, my favorite butterfly book is “Butterflies of the East Coast” by Rick Cech. It’s a large book, one that you would not carry in the field, but it has taught me more about what I can expect to find here in Virginia (and when) than any other book. Kenn Kaufman’s “Field Guide to Butterflies of North America” is a popular general field guide that includes all the butterflies likely to be seen in North America. Both books include range maps so that you can tell at a glance whether a particular butterfly occurs in your particular area. These and many other butterfly books, both local and global, are available for you to check out at the Chesapeake Public Library. Test a few out, and then decide which one suits you the best. You might want to purchase it later for yourself. We’ll discuss other kinds of field guides later on.

I’m not wishing my life away, but, April is right around the corner, and every day, more butterflies, dragonflies, and birds will be wakening in The Swamp and in other places. The first hummingbirds always arrive at my feeders around April 12; Chimney Swifts will be twittering in the skies within a week or two. I’ll tell you about what I see in my next entry.