During a letup in yesterday’s snowstorm, I took Ginger down our path for a little outing and looking across the river, saw this Bald Eagle focused on preening its wings and body. Of course, my camera was in the house so I slowly retreated, dog in tow, and returned to take some photos.
I’m pretty sick of snow but never tire of seeing birds like this.
A week and a half ago, we were walking on the river while dozens of skaters came and went as we watched. A few days later, things thawed and now the ducks are back, enjoying some early spring-like weather. Sunday, I came upon this couple tucked into the back just upstream from the house.
A week earlier, this couple was foraging downtown in the main Winooski River.
Mergansers are here – not sure where they retreat to during earlier “below zero” weather. This pair of Hoodies are hanging out – I see them nearly every day.
And we don’t forget the faithful few who hang in here all winter, singing every chance they get. I hear cardinals, titmice, nuthatches, crows, and now and then, a raven on most of our walks.
We have had a pretty rugged winter, with lots of subzero temperatures and several significant snowstorms. Most ponds and our river out back froze quite solid. Only in the last few days, have we had temperatures in the forties to allow some thawing.
Today, on a walk with Ginger, I found a group of about 40 Mallards hanging out in one of few areas of open water, in downtown Montpelier.
The weather up ahead is forecast in the teens and below – hunker down folks.
Saturday morning, I fiddled with the camera to try to handle snow scenes better and then went out with the dog to try it out. While getting ready, I got this Red-breasted Nuthatch through the back door windowpane.
On a backroad drive, where a cold wind made walking a challenge, there was a flock of Wild Turkeys off in the distance. Pushing the limits of the little Canon, I got this shot.
The sun came out for a while when we returned and we had a flurry of backyard activity to give me some practice.
It’s nice to focus on birds instead of news.
On these cold wet Vermont days, it’s nice to have a coterie of birds coming to our backyard. Northern Cardinals, even wet ones, add a splash of color and the Chickadees and Goldfinches add their energy to otherwise drab days. I went back and looked at some shots I took in the last month — and was delighted to remember this red and white combo.
And living on the river, we still are getting Mallards, a Belted Kingfisher, and several mergansers. Here is one from last week.
One of my goals this winter is to get some decent photos of Red-breasted Nuthatches and Brown Creepers. What are yours?
I took a trip over to Cherry Hill Reservoir a few days ago, braving a strong west wind, and got a good bracing workout for myself and the dog. We also saw some nice birds. Hundreds of Ruddy Ducks are often resting there in the fall and this trip was no exception: most were resting with the heads tucked in and stiff tails up in the air. This gal was off by herself.
Female Ruddy Duck with tail down and some morsel in her beak, just cruising along.
I took a few other shots with the Canon PowerShot SX50 HS before giving in to the elements.
This American Coot did not want its picture taken. We’ll see many of these down south next month.
A Double-crested Cormorant preening in the stiff west wind. This was taken at long-range zoom.
This snappy-looking Bufflehead flew in and dove before he saw me, and popped up for this shot. Great bird.
The Northeast Kingdom’s chapter of Audubon has a great Facebook page with wonderful photography by Tom Berriman and others. It also has excellent writing. Each month, Board Member Veer Frost writes an essay on nature in the NEK. Here is the start of the post for March which when I read it, pumped a little energy into my thinking about birding in March in northern Vermont. Here it is:
Birds in March
Anticipation! You can hear it in the first sweet notes beginning to brighten the clouded stretches of days we’re being granted just now in the Kingdom.
March brings us weeks that are neither winter nor spring, but at last we’ve reached the time of year when bitter Canadian fronts are followed by the irrepressible titmouse and chickadee tribes, sending songs out of the bare trees, like children thumbing their nose.
Woodpeckers may drum year round, but it’s in the weeks surrounding the spring equinox that their staccato banging against tree, house siding, and that perennial favorite, the tin roof, is most intense and frequent. By now, you’ve probably heard that the military-industrial powers are trying to figure out how a black and white urchin of a bird doesn’t ruin its brain with all that pounding, in order to copy its secret!
The skies over the Passumpsic are featuring a yet more raucous sound than tree drumming, but one that adds its own power to this season of hope.
Raven pairs fly overhead in close double formation, intensifying their bond, vocalizing their intention to each other to support the rigors of nesting and rearing young. The new life that we anticipate so yearningly in the growing light of March must, of course, include instinctive sacrifice, hard work, and the danger of predators.
Read the whole article here. Like the NEK Audubon page here.
We made our way across the border today — having heard that one or more Great Gray owls had dropped down from the sub-polar region, and was being seen occasionally in a swanky sub-rural part of Montreal, near the Arboretum. These birds only come this far south every few years. So the chance to see one is a special treat. None of the three of us had ever had the pleasure.
We got close to the part of town we were targeting. Then, we took a wrong turn and ended up on a road that was one of the lesser of our “target areas”. We decided we’d drive along it for a ways, just to work our way get back to the prime territory.
No sooner did we comment on how annoying it was that people sometimes ogle at mansions in neighborhoods like this (exactly what some of us were doing) rather than watching for birds, than Louanne said, “What’s that on that fence post by the road? Is it a bird … Is it a big bird … Is it an owl?” To which Ali added, “Oh My God, it’s a Great Gray!”
We abruptly dropped anchor in the middle of said mansion-draped winding little suburban street and stared. The owl was about 100 feet into a field on our right. We watched from the car expecting it to spook and fly away at any moment, and then slowly climbed out, grabbed a scope, cameras, etc. and tiptoed to a better spot (Mercedes birdmobile left in the street with trunk open). We got a few looks at the owl. Then, it flew. We gasped. It landed…. Closer than before! Phew.
The Great Gray just sat on a post about 75 feet away, and kept hunting. It pounced on a mouse and swallowed it whole. photo by lizjones112
Clearly, it couldn’t care less about us. It just sat on a post about 75 feet away, and kept hunting. Then it moved to a post even closer. Louanne proclaimed it owlgasmic! The deep eye circles and bright yellow eyes were astoundingly expressive — with a super-owly “I’m above all that that beholds me” attitude.
It pounced again. Seemed to miss that time. Remounted its pole. Sat for another 10 minutes, and then flew off to the top of a tree a couple hundred yards away. I snapped some shots, and when I got home, sure enough, it had another mouse in its beak as it flew off.
Louanne’s on-line sources said that the Great Gray is North America’s largest owl — stands 3′ tall with a 5 foot wingspan. The birds weigh less than two pounds, but is so formidable that it will drive bears away from its nest. In its homelands, the Great Gray is known as the “Phantom of the North”, and the “Specter Owl”. It was an awesome life bird for three of us!
From February 15-18, take part in a free, family-friendly educational activity that is loads of fun and supports bird conservation! Tens of thousands of volunteers participate in the annual Great Backyard Bird Count (GBBC), counting birds in backyards, local parks, nature reserves, and wherever they happen to be.
From February 15-18, take part in a free, family-friendly educational activity that is loads of fun and supports bird conservation! Tens of thousands of volunteers participate in the annual Great Backyard Bird Count (GBBC), counting birds in backyards, local parks, nature reserves, and wherever they happen to be.
After 15 years of success in North America, this year birdwatchers of all ages and birding skill levels from around the globe are encouraged to participate. The GBBC provides a great opportunity to learn more about birds and connect with nature – whether from your living room window, or by hiking a local trail. The GBBC is also an ideal way for more experienced birders to introduce friends, family, and others to the wonderful world of birding.
Snow Buntings will be one of the target birds for Central Vermont GBBC birders. photo by omarrun
Visit the GBBC website to explore the species seen in your community or state. Make the birds in your neighborhood count as part of the big picture in continental bird conservation. Join in this year’s Great Backyard Bird Count. The GBBC is a joint project of Audubon and the Cornell Lab of Ornithology with Canadian partner Bird Studies Canada.
If you are looking for a special GBBC outing in Vermont:
Huntington
Saturday, February 16, 8:00 a.m.-3:00 p.m.
Green Mountain Audubon Center, 255 Sherman Hollow Rd.
Join us at the Green Mountain Audubon Center for a bird monitoring walk in the morning. Then visit the Birds of Vermont Museum bird feeding station, explore the museum exhibits, drink some bird-friendly coffee, and learn more about the Great Backyard Bird Count. All ages welcome!
–8:00-10:00 a.m. Bird Monitoring Walk; Meeting Place: GMAC Office Building; Free
–10:00 a.m.-3:00 p.m. GBBC open house; Meeting Place: Birds of Vermont Museum; Museum admission: adults $6, seniors $5, children $3
Contact: Charley Wilkinson
For GBBC events in your state, check here.
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Today, I spent some time watching two female Hooded Mergansers along the Winooski River. One was sitting on the ice shelf while the other was fishing in the river with chunks of ice passing by. The air temperature was about 10 degrees F and even though I was sitting in the truck, shooting out the window, it looked cold. I kept wondering about the merg on the ice, just huddled there all puffed up and tucked in. Here’s what she looked like:
A female Hooded Merganser on the ice shelf this morning.
Here she is with her sister who is doing the foraging.
When I got home, I happened across a Facebook post by an author, Mary Holland, whose work I really like. I wrote about her book, Naturally Curious, last Fall. Here’s what she wrote:
On a cold, winter day, why would any bird choose to sit down on ice? While feathers are excellent insulators, the legs and feet of most birds lack this protective covering. Because of this, legs and feet are a major source of heat loss for birds. Physical adaptations to this loss of heat include constricted blood vessels in a bird’s feet, as well as the proximity of arteries and veins to each other which aids the transfer of heat. Birds exhibit behavioral adaptations as well, such as ducks and gulls standing on one leg and tucking the other among breast feathers, reducing by half the amount of unfeathered limb surface area exposed. By sitting down and covering both legs, even on ice, heat loss from limbs is minimized. If you observe closely, you will see many of the ground-feeding finches such as sparrows and redpolls also occasionally drop down and cover their legs and feet with their breast feathers for a few seconds.
So, I got my answer pretty fast. Meanwhile, here’s a couple of shots of the exercising merganser fishing successfully. I didn’t see her share it!
After a dive, coming up with some chow.
Commencing to eat it — it’s hard to tell if it is a fish or a crayfish-type meal.
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