Chat chat

Very bird, such urban

We've had a lot of Yellow-Breasted Chats in Manhattan this Fall. By "a lot", I mean three or four--they're never an abundant bird here.

There was one in Central Park at the end of October, that I mentioned in an earlier post, and then two appeared in lower Manhattan--one in a traffic roundabout just south of City Hall, and one in the yard of Trinity Church. I wasn't able to get downtown to look for either until last Friday.

Trinity Church is a rather unlikely birding spot. The churchyard is fairly small, there's not much ground cover, and there isn't a water source. Nevertheless, birds show up there--75 total species at last count--, which we know mostly through the diligent efforts of Ben Cacace.

Last Fall, a pair of Connecticut Warblers showed up there. Like the Chat this year, these normally reclusive birds put on quite a show for a throng of birders. Not by choice, certainly; as I said, not much ground cover.

a real cutie

The church was doing some work on the churchyard last year, which is mostly done (though the Chat did like hiding in the raining construction material in the northwest corner of the yard).

They've put up a lot of low wire fencing to separate the paths from the grave plots, which is good even for the birders. Last year there was a little problem with one or two photographers stalking the Connecticut around the graves, lumbering like Frankenstein's monster. Some people just don't know what they're doing. You've got a big long lens, you don't need to try to get within ten feet of the poor bird. Sheesh.

Anyway. No such problems this year, and the Chat was relatively little disturbed by the assembled bird paparazzi (there were a dozen or so when I was there, even though the Chat had been there over two weeks by that point).

There were a few other birds around as well--a very cooperative Winter Wren, and two or three Hermit Thrushes.

memento birdie

As of today (11/23), the Chat is still there--three weeks and counting.

a long engagement

Return of the son of the revenge of more Fall migration photos

Winter Wren working it for the camera

The thing about Fall migration is that it lasts a long time. Spring migration is a few intense weeks in May, with a slow build up for maybe a month. before, and a rather abrupt ending. Fall migration starts around the end of July and continues in a fairly steady stream for about three months.

So the less common birds get spread out a bit. Sort of.

lazy afternoon

This Whipoorwill turned up in the Loch in northern Central Park in late September. That's a nice bird for Manhattan; we get maybe one a year--more frequent than then Chuck-Will's-Widow, less frequent than Common Nighthawk.

Whipoorwills sleep most of the day, like owls, and wake up around dusk to hunt insects. They're hard to spot, since they don't move around much during daylight, and they generally roost pretty high up. This one was in an unusually low perch, the the photographers had a great time with him.

That same day, a Grasshopper Sparrow was spotted on the Knoll, also in the northern part of the Park just a short walk from the Whipoorwill's roost. I didn't see that bird, though. Well, maybe I did: I saw a very streaky backed sparrow fly by me that the other birders said was the Grasshopper. They had had a good look at it before, but for me, that wasn't enough of a view to count.

showing the flag

Then the next week, two fairly uncommon birds showed up at Harlem Meer. This female Green-Winged Teal spent a lot of time browsing a patch of duckweed in the southwest corner of the Meer near the little island.

The Green-Winged Teal is our smallest duck. Here's what that means:

size comparison

You see it's about half the size of the Mallard. You can almost ID it just on size.

Also on the Meer at the same time was a female American Wigeon. I had a heck of a time picking it out of the crowd of Gadwalls, even though they were all just a few feet off shore. It blended in surprisingly well.

semi-anonymous

The dark bill isn't all that striking when you're watching it swim around, and the coloring is a bit cryptic. Eventually I noticed that it was the only one never showing a white speculum, and then it became obvious.

bird of the evening

Besides the Grasshopper sparrow, Central Park has hosted a couple of other uncommon sparrows. A Vesper Sparrow spent the better part of a week in the area called Locust Grove, along a woodchip path just west of the Great Lawn between the Delacorte Theater and the Pinetum. It only liked to come out when the light was dim.

Of course, a lot of non-rarities continue to move through, like the Winter Wren at the top of this post, and this very confiding Pine Warbler:

warbler at my feet

He hopped around within a few feet of me, too busy foraging to worry about some slow monkey.

But there are signs the migration is ending, like the arrival of Juncos. They usually come right at the end.

sign of the end times

Welcome to the working week

excitable boy, they all said

It's Kinglet season! Walking through the Ramble, you'll see dozens of them. There are also sparrows coming through, like this juvenile White-crowned Sparrow.

the young and the restless

We're also seeing a lot of Winter Wrens. I saw a half-dozen in a half-hour walk one day. I don't remember seeing such concentrations before.

winter is coming

There are migrants on the streets of the city as well. Last Monday morning as I hurried in to work, this Common Yellowthroat popped out of a tree pit on 40th Street near Park Avenue.

tourist

Raptor migration is in full swing, too; Monday ended with a Peregrine Falcon followed by a Bald Eagle soaring over Grand Central Station heading south-southeast.

Meanwhile life for the city residents continues apace. We can all enjoy the landscaping around the main branch of the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue:

getting a street snack on Fifth Avenue

By the way, the reports from Randall's Island the last couple of days are amazing--Nelson's, Saltmarsh, Vesper, Eastern Meadowlark. If you have time to go there, it sounds wonderful.

A Magic Tree

Sometimes a tree becomes a "magic tree", filled with birds (especially warblers). Sometimes this is associated with a termite hatch-out nearby, or some other insect hatch-out, but often not.

Blackburnian Warbler in the magic tree

Today, a big oak tree on the south shore of Turtle Pond became magic for no visible reason. There were at least nine species of warbler in the tree at once, headed by Blackburnian and Cape May Warblers

Cape May Warbler in the magic tree

but also including Nashville, Black-Throated Green, Black-Throated Blue, Yellow, Prairie, Northern Parula, and Black-and-White Warblers.

The Cape May and Blackburnian Warblers (no, I don't know why it's called "Blackburnian" and not "Blackburne's") were new species for the year for me; I also saw my first Gray-Cheeked Thrush and Red-Eyed Vireo of the year, among 46 species for the day. I'm up to 145 on the year in the county; didn't get there until June last year.

I even got a good photo of the Summer Tanager (continuing at the Oven)

On the way out, I spotted a Winter Wren at Evodia, the first I've seen this year (though I heard one in the North Woods).

Cute little ball of feathers

At this point, there are too many birds in town to do a sensible rumors report. The warblers are there, go out and look up.