cafrigo's Journal

Earlier this morning (March 7th, 2016), I ventured out to Arms Forest behind Burlington High School. When I arrived, it was chilly and quite windy; for the first half hour, I had minimal luck spotting any birds. Calls were distorted by the wind, and it seemed like there were more sounds from tree branches rubbing together than from birds. Moreover, the overcast sky made everything look washed out - I'm not sure I would've been able to definitively ID many birds in those conditions anyway!
Thankfully, I did eventually hear some American Crows, Black-Capped Chickadees, and Northern Cardinals. After about an hour of minimal observations, I began to wander back toward the parking lot. As I was entering an area beneath a canopy clearing, I looked up and saw what I believe was a Cooper's Hawk. I identified it by its broad wings, its size, its long, almost rectangular tail, and its brown and white plumage. Unfortunately I couldn't get a picture, but I did some digging through my field guide and believe I've ID'ed it correctly. After seeing the hawk, I decided that I should wander down to North Beach (the direction s/he had come from).
The beach was incredibly windy, which, while not surprising, made me worry that I wouldn't have any luck with sightings. However, almost immediately I saw three Herring Gulls enjoying the icy breeze. There was also a crow settled in a tree. On my way back from the beach, just as I was about to cross under the bridge, I saw one of the highlights of this excursion: a group of American Robins foraging on Rhus typhina flowers. There were at least a dozen of them, all pulling at the densely clustered seeds of the staghorn sumac. These flowers probably make excellent winter forage because they are so persistent and abundant along edges.
Eating these foods is a behavioral adaptation that allows winter survival. I also witnessed a crow fluffing up its feathers to help insulate it from the cold. The habit of nesting in protected cavities in snags can also help birds remain at safe body temperatures. I counted eleven snags on my path, but only found one of them to be occupied (through the rap test). Unfortunately, it was not occupied by a bird - instead, I found a domestic cat! It was a fun reminder of the myriad of unexpected ways that organisms can overlap in their interactions with the world around them.
Many of the snags I saw had clear evidence of woodpeckers. Particularly large snags tended to have larger cavities that looked like the result of a Pileated Woodpecker's work. There didn't, however, appear to be any strong correlation between snag abundance and bird abundance at this particular time.

This morning (Saturday, March 18th) at around 9:30 I drove out to Fannie Stebbins Memorial Wildlife Refuge. It was a chilly morning - around 30 degrees - but clear and sunny. I grew up driving through this area with my dad on saturday mornings, and knew I would see many familiar faces. When I arrived, there were about a dozen other people out birding; by the time I left, that number had doubled. Because many birders bring food along with their binoculars and telephoto lenses, the behavior of the birds was strongly affected by our presence even before I started pishing.
The first thing I noticed when I left my car was that there was an absolute symphony of calls; in my last two excursions, weather has been suboptimal. Today was completely different, and the abundance of birds seemed a testament to that. I could immediately pick out more than half a dozen species, the most prominent of which was the Red-Winged Blackbird. It seemed as though everywhere I looked I could spot a vibrant red and yellow shoulder badge. These birds did not respond favorably to my pishing, and as soon as I started they began to fly away and vocalize alarm calls. However, it did summon a curious Black-capped Chickadee and elicit alarm calls (without flight) from a Blue Jay and a Northern Cardinal. I think the pish is meant to sound like a distress call, although mine definitely left a bit to be desired.
In addition to seeing how the birds interacted with me, I also witnessed many inter- and intra-specific bird interactions. I watched a group of Canada Geese attempt to steal food from a gull. They postured and honked, spreading their wings, stretching their necks, and following the gull. Oddly enough, the gull didn't give up his prize; he just kept walking away with the food, and after about 15 feet the Canada Geese gave up and turned around. The local birders apparently keep them well-fed enough that it wasn't worth any more bullying than that! I also noticed a dramatic lack of territoriality in another species; I saw 5 male Northern Cardinals eating from the same pile of bird seed, all within about a 6 foot radius. It struck me that the birders' behavior (of spreading seed and exponentially increasing food quality/forage density) is almost certainly shifting birds' social behaviors in areas like this refuge. However, the group foraging behavior is economic in this instance, and phenologically speaking it's likely too early for competition for mates to be high enough to warrant energy-intensive territoriality.
The striking red plumage of the male Northern Cardinals stood in stark contrast to the white snow and blue sky; it also stood in contrast to many other species that I saw. Song sparrows seemed to blend into the background, their neutral brown stripes blending in perfectly with stems and branches. Mourning Doves' soft beiges blurred against the sandy soil and the leaf litter covering the ground. In contrast, the male Northern Cardinals were displaying vibrant plumage that's likely more influenced by sexual selection than by predation on an evolutionary timescale.