zoey_november's Journal

Date: Feb. 09, 2019
Time: 15:15-16:45
Location: City Center Park, South Burlington, VT
Weather: Clear and sunny, around 18 degrees. Hardpack snow with large patches of solid ice where the area flooded during the recent thaw.
Habitat: Edge of small frozen marsh and sparse forest. Trees include mature White Pine with younger Paper Birch, aspen, maples, and oaks comprising the canopy. A very sparse understory has some hemlocks and cultivated conifers, but is mostly wide open.

When I stepped away from the Healthy Living parking lot and into the woods, the first thing I came upon was a homeless person's camp and a lot of trash. A bit further, I found an older, long-abandoned camp – a mossy mattress peeking through the snow, a mangled children's bike stuffed under a bush, a dilapidated tent twisted under the ice and snow, and plastic containers littered everywhere. I paused when I heard my first bird of the day – a Nuthatch, though whether Red- or White-breasted I could not tell. I strained to hear whether it sounded more like a yank or a yink, but as of now I lack the experience to differentiate. A bit beyond the second campsite was a recently cleared lot, the chipped wood of the former forest so fresh that I caught its scent even on this cold winter's day. I turned towards the frozen marsh, and ventured away from the most blatant signs of humanity.

The marsh was covered in ice over 2 inches thick, save for a small open channel. After leaping across to the other side, I found myself in denser forest, but I had not escaped mankind by any means. I found myself on a path worn by many dog-walkers and their pets, and came upon a small bench. Here I sat and acclimated myself to the area, noticing that the constant hum of nearby traffic was frequently punctuated by beeps and honks and the mechanical clang of a dumpster. After a while, I began to hear smaller sounds: the characteristic song of the Black-capped Chickadee, coming from at least three different locations close by. I tried to pinpoint them and find them with my binoculars, but was unsuccessful.

I walked to another spot and heard an American Crow, looking up in time to find it flapping steadily over the treetops, heading approximately North-East. Then I heard a short, steady, repetitive call that I couldn't identify. It sounded like a cross between a cat meowing and a baby crying. I walked towards it and paused, hearing it again. I got closer and closer, pausing to listen every few steps. Finally I was so close, I could tell exactly which tree it was in. A bit of movement caught my eye, and I looked straight into the face of... an Eastern Gray Squirrel. My momentary rush of excitement fled as I realized what an incredibly novice birder I am, and that I have no idea how to go about birding. For all my eagerness, I had mistaken the call of a squirrel for a bird.

After a while of unfruitful sitting and listening, I decided to visit the neighborhood nearby. I thought maybe some houses would have bird feeders out. As soon as I stepped out of the woods and onto the street, I was able to observe many more birds. A few more American Crows flew overhead, I saw a couple Black-capped Chickadees in a tree, and I heard a Northern Cardinal calling from someone's backyard. Straining my ears for birdcalls, I became more sensitive to my auditory surroundings and heard the small drips of runoff falling down a nearby storm drain.

I was outside during the late afternoon, which perhaps isn't the best time to go birding. I've heard that birds are more active during the beginning and end of the day, so maybe next time I will try to go out in the morning. As I was unable to visually observe more than one species of bird as it was flying, I watched some videos when I got back home. I compared the flight patterns of American Crows to Black-capped Chickadees, and found that the American Crow needs to flap its wings steadily and somewhat quickly in order to keep its large body aloft, whereas the Black-capped Chickadee has a ballistic flight pattern, with a series of 2-3 wing beats and then a glide with its wings folded in tight to its body. This might help it maneuver through tight spaces, come in for a landing in dense shrubbery, or glide up to a tree cavity and land precisely in the right position. Crows are larger and wouldn't fit in the dense shrubs anyway, so maybe they don't need this kind of precision in their flying abilities.