tkww
Life of the Party
No reason for it not to be. I saw them them cruising that water's drainage 2-3 weeks ago--made appearances about 3 mornings in a row.
Got any bird pics?
- Thread starter Wadin' Boot
- Start date
Poor cell phone pics of a Yellow Rumped Warbler.
There were a flock of them sipping aphid-like emergers from this Hawthorn tree outside my window. I couldn’t tell what they were feeding on until I went out to observe after they’d left. Hard to see them but it was small stuff… probably about size 44’s or so.
It was a treat to see them
There were a flock of them sipping aphid-like emergers from this Hawthorn tree outside my window. I couldn’t tell what they were feeding on until I went out to observe after they’d left. Hard to see them but it was small stuff… probably about size 44’s or so.
It was a treat to see them
The heron at the kids pond is sure a more patient fisher than I. Like the kids I need action, my bobber dancing. It got an easy one, one we probably shouldn't have let go, as it went by.
The estuaries and beaches of Washington are critical refueling stops for migrating shorebirds. [From background to foreground: black-bellied plovers (black belly, white and black head), short-billed dowitchers (bills buried in their back feathers), dunlins (black belly patch), and Western sandpipers (black legs).]
[Dunlins and western sandpipers]
For example, least sandpipers (yellowish legs) overwinter along beaches from the southern U.S. through northern South America.
But they then migrate thousands of miles to their breeding areas in Arctic tundra. The total distance that least sandpipers migrate is at least 2000 miles (and other shorebird species migrate almost 10x that distance). They typically cover 150-250 miles per day (but can reach over 1000 miles covered per day, especially if assisted by a tail wind), often flying preferentially through the night (and picked up on weather radar). The Arctic tern wins the award for longest migration (55,000 miles) each year between its breeding area in the Arctic and its nonbreeding grounds in the Weddell Sea off Antarctica. During these migratory flights, the birds may fly continuously for several days to cover large chunks of that distance. [Bar-tailed godwits fly 6800 miles over nine days without stopping from their wintering grounds in New Zealand to their breeding grounds in Alaska.].
By the end of the first week of May, the BirdCast site estimates that 239 million birds will be migrating each night (down from 330 million at the end of April). According to BirdCast, our area has just passed the peak of migration numbers.
That huge energy expenditure is fueled by fat stores. After 24 hours of flight, a bird may lose 40% of its body mass, primarily through the consumption of fat. Few species can carry enough fat stores to complete their entire migration without refueling several times. The Grays Harbor / Willapa Bay area is a major refueling stops for birds flying up the Pacific Coast to Alaska and Northern Canada. When they first arrive, migrating shorebirds may spend several days rebuilding their digestive systems that had atrophied before the first leg of migration. Then, they can add 4% of their body mass per day as they rebuild their fat reserves. After two weeks of gorging, a bird can have practically doubled its body mass. Near the end of this staging period, they stop eating, void their guts, and reduce the size of some internal organs (kidneys, liver, digestive tract) to lighten the load in flight; the fat stores are typically stored in the space occupied by these internal organs. During the spring migration, some fat reserve jump-start reproduction on the breeding grounds.
Some shorebirds, such as greater yellowlegs,
short-billed dowitchers,
semipalmated plovers.
black-bellied plovers,
and ruddy turnstones,
probe the sand and mud for buried invertebrates, such as worms, clams, or crustaceans. But other shorebirds skim up large quantities of biofilm, the slimy goo at the surface of a mudflat. [A similar sticky biofilm keeps plaque-causing bacteria stuck to your teeth.]. At the core of this biofilm are diatoms, single-celled photosynthetic algae, whose populations explode in response to the longer days and high nutrients found in the spring. The dense populations of microscopic diatoms can turn surface sediments golden. The diatoms release a polymer that holds the diatoms (and bacteria and meiofauna) together at the surface. This biofilm is a huge source of primary production that fuels invertebrate food webs. But many shorebirds, including dunlins (black belly patch)
and western sandpipers (black legs, longish, dropping bill)
can exploit the biofilm too. Bristles on the tongue tip and sides are used to scrape biofilm from the surface. Females which have longer bills appear to use probing for macroinvertebrates more than the smaller males. In places like Gray’s Harbor, biofilms from muddy sediments may provide half or more of the energetic intake of Western sandpipers.
Other shorebirds may make more localized migrations. Some pigeon guillemots head offshore in winter or migrate south to avoid sea ice while others congregate in protected bays. At Tokeland, a pair appeared in early May; they were scoping out an old pier as a potential nest site.
And while not a threat to small shorebirds, the occasional passing bald eagle catches my eye as it soared past.
While not a vertebrate, an anise swallowtail was quite cooperative too.
Steve
[Dunlins and western sandpipers]
For example, least sandpipers (yellowish legs) overwinter along beaches from the southern U.S. through northern South America.
But they then migrate thousands of miles to their breeding areas in Arctic tundra. The total distance that least sandpipers migrate is at least 2000 miles (and other shorebird species migrate almost 10x that distance). They typically cover 150-250 miles per day (but can reach over 1000 miles covered per day, especially if assisted by a tail wind), often flying preferentially through the night (and picked up on weather radar). The Arctic tern wins the award for longest migration (55,000 miles) each year between its breeding area in the Arctic and its nonbreeding grounds in the Weddell Sea off Antarctica. During these migratory flights, the birds may fly continuously for several days to cover large chunks of that distance. [Bar-tailed godwits fly 6800 miles over nine days without stopping from their wintering grounds in New Zealand to their breeding grounds in Alaska.].By the end of the first week of May, the BirdCast site estimates that 239 million birds will be migrating each night (down from 330 million at the end of April). According to BirdCast, our area has just passed the peak of migration numbers.
That huge energy expenditure is fueled by fat stores. After 24 hours of flight, a bird may lose 40% of its body mass, primarily through the consumption of fat. Few species can carry enough fat stores to complete their entire migration without refueling several times. The Grays Harbor / Willapa Bay area is a major refueling stops for birds flying up the Pacific Coast to Alaska and Northern Canada. When they first arrive, migrating shorebirds may spend several days rebuilding their digestive systems that had atrophied before the first leg of migration. Then, they can add 4% of their body mass per day as they rebuild their fat reserves. After two weeks of gorging, a bird can have practically doubled its body mass. Near the end of this staging period, they stop eating, void their guts, and reduce the size of some internal organs (kidneys, liver, digestive tract) to lighten the load in flight; the fat stores are typically stored in the space occupied by these internal organs. During the spring migration, some fat reserve jump-start reproduction on the breeding grounds.
Some shorebirds, such as greater yellowlegs,
short-billed dowitchers,
semipalmated plovers.
black-bellied plovers,and ruddy turnstones,
probe the sand and mud for buried invertebrates, such as worms, clams, or crustaceans. But other shorebirds skim up large quantities of biofilm, the slimy goo at the surface of a mudflat. [A similar sticky biofilm keeps plaque-causing bacteria stuck to your teeth.]. At the core of this biofilm are diatoms, single-celled photosynthetic algae, whose populations explode in response to the longer days and high nutrients found in the spring. The dense populations of microscopic diatoms can turn surface sediments golden. The diatoms release a polymer that holds the diatoms (and bacteria and meiofauna) together at the surface. This biofilm is a huge source of primary production that fuels invertebrate food webs. But many shorebirds, including dunlins (black belly patch)
and western sandpipers (black legs, longish, dropping bill)
can exploit the biofilm too. Bristles on the tongue tip and sides are used to scrape biofilm from the surface. Females which have longer bills appear to use probing for macroinvertebrates more than the smaller males. In places like Gray’s Harbor, biofilms from muddy sediments may provide half or more of the energetic intake of Western sandpipers.
Other shorebirds may make more localized migrations. Some pigeon guillemots head offshore in winter or migrate south to avoid sea ice while others congregate in protected bays. At Tokeland, a pair appeared in early May; they were scoping out an old pier as a potential nest site.
And while not a threat to small shorebirds, the occasional passing bald eagle catches my eye as it soared past.While not a vertebrate, an anise swallowtail was quite cooperative too.
Steve
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Excellent on the shorebirds. Bowerman? Any falcons?
No, Tokeland and Bottle Beach. No falcon sightings at all, surprisingly.
Steve
Some pictures from today. Most of the birds were really too far off for my camera, but I am excited to have our summer songbirds (Yellow breasted Chats and Lazuli Buntings) back.
Yellow Breasted Chat
Lazuli Bunting
Song Sparrow
Greater Yellowlegs
and a few wildflowers
Iris
Wild Rose
Yellow Breasted Chat
Lazuli Bunting
Song Sparrow
Greater Yellowlegs
and a few wildflowers
Iris
Wild Rose
Attachments
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The was a lazuli bunting by Sea-Tac airport a number of years ago.
Rich, thanks for the pics.
Rich, thanks for the pics.
The pace of change really accelerates by mid-spring in the PNW. Some bird species are migrating in, others migrating through, while some birds that have spent the winter are migrating out. Summer residents and newly-arrived migrants are busy with establishing and defending breeding territories, attracting mates, and building nests. And there is a window in time when the birds are very active, but the trees haven’t yet fully leafed-out that you can capture some great views.
Bewick’s wrens have spent the winter at Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge, but they have tended to be elusive, chittering at you from deep cover. But now the males have been perched on high vantage points and singing their hearts out to attract mates and discourage rivals.
When not singing, they are harvesting the flush of spring insects like this caterpillar.
The common yellowthroat warblers have arrived from their overwintering grounds in Central America. With their distinctive calls and songs, you know that they are around. But they can be very elusive when they want to be. Your best bet is to find a male singing in the freshwater marshes
or in the riparian trees around the pond at Nisqually.
The females can be even more elusive. You can hear their harsh “chip” calls from deep cover, but finding them out in the open where you might snap a quick picture is more challenging – patience. grasshopper.
From their locations at the water’s edge, common yellowthroats are in perfect position to ambush newly emerged aquatic insects, such as this damselfly.
In my recent walks, the Merlin app (and my own mediocre ear) has been identifying lots of singing yellow warblers. They are also adept at using cover, such as the new leaves at the top of big-leaf maples, as cover while they sing. But if you are persistent, you might have a brief view. This bird had been calling from deep cover at the top of a neighboring maple, but popped over to its neighbor whose leaves were a bit less developed.
One of the most common birds that you see in the canopy this time of year are yellow-rumped warblers (aka, “butter-butts”). They will carefully glean leaves and branches for insects. But they will also find prominent perches to “hawk” insects that are flying past. This time of year, there is a heavy hatch of midges from the pond and canals at Nisqually. The displaying / mating midges assemble into dense clouds in sheltered areas and that attracts the yellow rumps.
But the story gets more interesting when you notice that in the spring there are two versions of yellow-rumped warblers foraging in the trees: Audubon’s warblers and myrtle’s warblers. Audubon’s warblers are found exclusively along the West Coast, ranging from Southern California into the British Columbia and east to the Rockies. Myrtle’s warblers are found along the East Coast and range across Canada into Alaska. Any myrtle’s warblers that you see in spring in Washington are just passing through on their way north. A third, non-migratory member of the “yellow-rumped warbler” complex, the black-fronted warbler is found in the mountains of Mexico. And a fourth non-migratory member of this group, Goldman’s warbler, is found in Guatemala.
At various times, these four “forms” have been treated as four separate species, three separate species with the black-throated as a subspecies of Audubon’s (which is the current status on the IOC World list), or one species (current status according to the American Ornithologists Union [what would they strike over? Cost of bird seed? Binocs?]).
While the ranges of the black-throated warbler and Audubon’s warbler do not overlap at present, the breeding ranges of Audubon’s and myrtle’s forms do overlap in B.C. over about an 80-mile wide zone and they can form hybrids. But the size of the hybrid zone is quite stable and there is some evidence of selection against hybrids.
Does it really matter if there are one, two, three, or four species here? A subset of hard-core birders (“twitchers”) care VERY much about these decisions. In some cases, they will seek out “subspecies” in anticipation that a subspecies will be elevated to full species status in the future. These folks care very much about the number of species on their life lists and what this means for their “big year” calculations. [I’m too lazy to care much about this.]
As a life-long biologist, I feel some “chagrin” that the field has had such a hard time defining just what a species is / is not. There are over 20 different definitions of “species” floating around, ranging from the pre-Darwinian “morphospecies” such as described by Linnaeus, the “biological species concept” of Ernst Mayr (1942), the “evolutionary species concept” of Simpson (1951), the “ecological species concept”, the “genetic species concept” used often with microbes, and the “cladistic species concept”. Unlike chemists who can define an element based simply on the number of protons in the nucleus, there is no consensus of how to determine what a species is, leading to debates between lumpers (siding toward fewer species) and splitters (leaning toward more species). Beyond the vanity of birders, identifying what is vs. what is not a species has huge implications for conservation biology and allocation of scarce resources (see distinct populations of Pacific salmon…).
So, what does this mean for our “yellow-rumped” warblers.? All four forms have yellow patches at the base of the tail. A western Audubon’s warbler (Setophaga coronata auduboni) has four distinctive features: 1) a yellow throat that does not extend past the eye, 2) arcs of white above and below the eye, 3) blue to dark gray “cheek” (auricular feathers, and 4) a solid (or close to it) black chest. [Great comparison here.]. The black-fronted form (S. c. nigrifrons) of Mexico is even darker on the head and chest.
The eastern/northern myrtle’s warbler has 1) a white throat patch that extends past the eye, 2) arcs of white below and above the eye that extends as a white eyebrow (supercilium) stripe, 3) dark cheeks that contrast with the extended white throat patch, and 4) dark streaks along the breast.
And as you can see, I have clear pictures of both classic Audubon’s warblers and classic myrtle’s warblers from Nisqually Wildlife Refuge. But the confusion comes when I looked at a yellow-rumped warbler that I photographed at McLane Creek a day or so later. It has a mostly-white throat (= myrtle’s), but with some yellow (= Audubon’s). The throat patch does not extend beyond the eye and there is no white eyebrow stripe (= Audubon’s). But the chest has dark streaks (= myrtle’s), not solid black. So, this would appear to be an intergrade bird.
So, are Audubon’s, black fronted, and myrtle’s one species or three? A paper by Toews et al. in the Journal Evolution examined this question at several levels.
First, except for a small zone of overlap in B.C., the three forms are geographically separated (allopatric in biogeography speak) and they have distinctive morphologies = 3 species. But if you look at differences in nuclear DNA, you would conclude that there are just two species and if you used mitochondrial DNA, you would also conclude that there are just two species, but who is dancing with whom is different based on the different genetic markers. Maybe this species question is harder than it first appears…
Steve
Bewick’s wrens have spent the winter at Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge, but they have tended to be elusive, chittering at you from deep cover. But now the males have been perched on high vantage points and singing their hearts out to attract mates and discourage rivals.
When not singing, they are harvesting the flush of spring insects like this caterpillar.
The common yellowthroat warblers have arrived from their overwintering grounds in Central America. With their distinctive calls and songs, you know that they are around. But they can be very elusive when they want to be. Your best bet is to find a male singing in the freshwater marshes
or in the riparian trees around the pond at Nisqually.
The females can be even more elusive. You can hear their harsh “chip” calls from deep cover, but finding them out in the open where you might snap a quick picture is more challenging – patience. grasshopper.
From their locations at the water’s edge, common yellowthroats are in perfect position to ambush newly emerged aquatic insects, such as this damselfly.
In my recent walks, the Merlin app (and my own mediocre ear) has been identifying lots of singing yellow warblers. They are also adept at using cover, such as the new leaves at the top of big-leaf maples, as cover while they sing. But if you are persistent, you might have a brief view. This bird had been calling from deep cover at the top of a neighboring maple, but popped over to its neighbor whose leaves were a bit less developed.
One of the most common birds that you see in the canopy this time of year are yellow-rumped warblers (aka, “butter-butts”). They will carefully glean leaves and branches for insects. But they will also find prominent perches to “hawk” insects that are flying past. This time of year, there is a heavy hatch of midges from the pond and canals at Nisqually. The displaying / mating midges assemble into dense clouds in sheltered areas and that attracts the yellow rumps.
But the story gets more interesting when you notice that in the spring there are two versions of yellow-rumped warblers foraging in the trees: Audubon’s warblers and myrtle’s warblers. Audubon’s warblers are found exclusively along the West Coast, ranging from Southern California into the British Columbia and east to the Rockies. Myrtle’s warblers are found along the East Coast and range across Canada into Alaska. Any myrtle’s warblers that you see in spring in Washington are just passing through on their way north. A third, non-migratory member of the “yellow-rumped warbler” complex, the black-fronted warbler is found in the mountains of Mexico. And a fourth non-migratory member of this group, Goldman’s warbler, is found in Guatemala.
At various times, these four “forms” have been treated as four separate species, three separate species with the black-throated as a subspecies of Audubon’s (which is the current status on the IOC World list), or one species (current status according to the American Ornithologists Union [what would they strike over? Cost of bird seed? Binocs?]).
While the ranges of the black-throated warbler and Audubon’s warbler do not overlap at present, the breeding ranges of Audubon’s and myrtle’s forms do overlap in B.C. over about an 80-mile wide zone and they can form hybrids. But the size of the hybrid zone is quite stable and there is some evidence of selection against hybrids.
Does it really matter if there are one, two, three, or four species here? A subset of hard-core birders (“twitchers”) care VERY much about these decisions. In some cases, they will seek out “subspecies” in anticipation that a subspecies will be elevated to full species status in the future. These folks care very much about the number of species on their life lists and what this means for their “big year” calculations. [I’m too lazy to care much about this.]
As a life-long biologist, I feel some “chagrin” that the field has had such a hard time defining just what a species is / is not. There are over 20 different definitions of “species” floating around, ranging from the pre-Darwinian “morphospecies” such as described by Linnaeus, the “biological species concept” of Ernst Mayr (1942), the “evolutionary species concept” of Simpson (1951), the “ecological species concept”, the “genetic species concept” used often with microbes, and the “cladistic species concept”. Unlike chemists who can define an element based simply on the number of protons in the nucleus, there is no consensus of how to determine what a species is, leading to debates between lumpers (siding toward fewer species) and splitters (leaning toward more species). Beyond the vanity of birders, identifying what is vs. what is not a species has huge implications for conservation biology and allocation of scarce resources (see distinct populations of Pacific salmon…).
So, what does this mean for our “yellow-rumped” warblers.? All four forms have yellow patches at the base of the tail. A western Audubon’s warbler (Setophaga coronata auduboni) has four distinctive features: 1) a yellow throat that does not extend past the eye, 2) arcs of white above and below the eye, 3) blue to dark gray “cheek” (auricular feathers, and 4) a solid (or close to it) black chest. [Great comparison here.]. The black-fronted form (S. c. nigrifrons) of Mexico is even darker on the head and chest.
The eastern/northern myrtle’s warbler has 1) a white throat patch that extends past the eye, 2) arcs of white below and above the eye that extends as a white eyebrow (supercilium) stripe, 3) dark cheeks that contrast with the extended white throat patch, and 4) dark streaks along the breast.
And as you can see, I have clear pictures of both classic Audubon’s warblers and classic myrtle’s warblers from Nisqually Wildlife Refuge. But the confusion comes when I looked at a yellow-rumped warbler that I photographed at McLane Creek a day or so later. It has a mostly-white throat (= myrtle’s), but with some yellow (= Audubon’s). The throat patch does not extend beyond the eye and there is no white eyebrow stripe (= Audubon’s). But the chest has dark streaks (= myrtle’s), not solid black. So, this would appear to be an intergrade bird.
So, are Audubon’s, black fronted, and myrtle’s one species or three? A paper by Toews et al. in the Journal Evolution examined this question at several levels.
First, except for a small zone of overlap in B.C., the three forms are geographically separated (allopatric in biogeography speak) and they have distinctive morphologies = 3 species. But if you look at differences in nuclear DNA, you would conclude that there are just two species and if you used mitochondrial DNA, you would also conclude that there are just two species, but who is dancing with whom is different based on the different genetic markers. Maybe this species question is harder than it first appears…
Steve
Thanks, Cabezon. Always appreciate your narratives and, of course, your pics.
I have been keeping track of arriving black-headed grosbeaks since 2010. The earliest they have arrives was April 29th and the latest was May 8th. Pretty fine window. This year it was May 5th.
I have been keeping track of arriving black-headed grosbeaks since 2010. The earliest they have arrives was April 29th and the latest was May 8th. Pretty fine window. This year it was May 5th.
Gyrfalcon22
Legend
Super report as always, @Cabezon ! Those lumpers and splitters make things fun. Some here may know the old American Food & Game Fishes book by Jordan and Evermann from the early 1900's. One of the libraries in my youth here had a green cover version. I recall seeing all the expansive subspecies "Latin'd out" throughout the book. I think Lake Crescent and nearly adjoining Lake Sutherland up north had 6-8, maybe more trout/salmon species/subspecies meticulously described. The minute meristic differences.. The fin rays and lateral scales meant more fish types to break things down to, more latin names to add to the end. Splitters heaven !
I have wondered about birders listings being sometimes over the top, and I realize now you hit the nail on the head, Steve. Go to sleep with life list at 799, wake up with 812 after a meeting of the ornithological society and new recognized species (like western gull, formerly a hybrid gull). Or, may go to bed and lose numbers when a couple of flycatchers are lumped into one, 'western flycatcher' species.
A month back I had this odd falcon. Been slow for falcons this year in reference to Steve's comment above. This bird was 300 yards away and caught my eye as being a tad odd- even from that distance. We do have quite an array of coloration and variations of peregrines possible locally in the PNW. Subspecies, we have three. 90%+ are Peale's.
This bird had a lot of Tundra look to the head, but the white brow line and cheek had me thinking Praire falcon, but those are extremely rare this side of the Cascades. Hybrids are big in the falconry breeding industry and possible in the wild, but always unlikely.
Turns out this is most likely a Tundra peregrine falcon with leucistic traits. The raptor banding expert on the coast has been interested this finding. He said in the nearly 300 peregrines he has banded that two showed leucism. A neat bird among the always neat birds, the falcons.
I have wondered about birders listings being sometimes over the top, and I realize now you hit the nail on the head, Steve. Go to sleep with life list at 799, wake up with 812 after a meeting of the ornithological society and new recognized species (like western gull, formerly a hybrid gull). Or, may go to bed and lose numbers when a couple of flycatchers are lumped into one, 'western flycatcher' species.
A month back I had this odd falcon. Been slow for falcons this year in reference to Steve's comment above. This bird was 300 yards away and caught my eye as being a tad odd- even from that distance. We do have quite an array of coloration and variations of peregrines possible locally in the PNW. Subspecies, we have three. 90%+ are Peale's.
This bird had a lot of Tundra look to the head, but the white brow line and cheek had me thinking Praire falcon, but those are extremely rare this side of the Cascades. Hybrids are big in the falconry breeding industry and possible in the wild, but always unlikely.
Turns out this is most likely a Tundra peregrine falcon with leucistic traits. The raptor banding expert on the coast has been interested this finding. He said in the nearly 300 peregrines he has banded that two showed leucism. A neat bird among the always neat birds, the falcons.
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I get bird species frustration pretty easily some days. So I revert to the simplicity of my younger days. As a "lumper" there was mainly one species of small birds - "dink" birds. The woods and meadows are full of 'em. In college I learned that Audubon preferred the somewhat more sophisticated LBB (little brown bird) for unidentified species. I stuck with "dink" birds until I was gifted a copy of Peterson's Field Guide. Even since, I've remained pretty casual about birds, unlike my friend's wife, who has traveled to every continent and has a life list of over 700, maybe now approaching 800 species. Good grief! I like dink birds.
We called your "dinks" LBJ's (little brown jobs) or s--t birds....
And small shorebirds are "peeps".
Steve