Cliff Swallows
While leading a photo workshop this year, my small group of photographers had a visit from a flock of interesting birds. There were over 300 individual birds that were swooping and diving all around us. I instantly recognized these birds as Cliff Swallows (Petrochelidon pyrrhonota).
Cliff Swallows are an extremely social bird, which is to say they are always in large groups while migrating, hunting for food, nesting, or just hanging out. During the spring migration, groups of hundreds and even thousands fly from their winter locations in South America up through Central America and into the United States and Canada. They nest from Texas to Alaska and from coast to coast.
The Cliff Swallow is closely related to the more familiar Tree Swallow or Barn Swallow, both of which are common backyard nesting birds in most areas of the country. The Cliff Swallow nests communally in groups of upwards of 500 nesting pairs in one colony. Despite their name, Cliff Swallows mostly nest under small and large bridges. Which begs the question: where did these swallows nest before humans built bridges? Of course, they found rock cliffs and built their nests there.
Their nests are architectural marvels. Each nest is constructed with over a thousand tiny mud pellets. The mud is gathered near the nest site. They roll up a small ball of mud and carry it back to their nest one tiny pellet at a time. They stack up the mud pellets one on top of another to slowly construct a large gourd-shaped structure with a funnel or short tunnel-like entrance hole. When the mud dries, it forms an extraordinarily strong nest. They will construct their nests so close to one another that the sides of the nests often merge into one another. To me, they look like tiny adobe houses.
In the house, which they can use for several years in a row, they lay 3 to 4 eggs. Interestingly, they brood-parasitize neighboring nests, where the females may lay their eggs in a neighbor’s nest in addition to their own nest. While this may sound strange, in reality, spreading your eggs, or more accurately, your genes, around means you are more likely to have your offspring survive. Also, having someone else raise your young means less energy expended by yourself, which is always beneficial.
Just like other swallow species, the Cliff Swallow feeds on insects. They are like tiny vacuums; they can catch several thousand insects per day. That means over a one-year time span, one individual Cliff Swallow can consume half a million to a million bugs. And that is just one individual bird. Now try to imagine what an entire colony of these birds can consume. This makes these birds especially important in natural insect control.
These birds spend most of their lives flying, which means their legs and feet are short and small. There is no need to do a lot of walking. Overall, the Cliff Swallow is only about 5 inches long and has short, pointed wings. In flight, they dip and glide, followed by rapid wingbeats to gain altitude again. As you can imagine, they are extremely fast flyers. This is why, when a large flock of Cliff Swallows descended upon my group of photographers, everyone was trying to capture some in-flight images. This kind of wildlife photography is particularly challenging but highly rewarding if you capture a good shot.
Male and female Cliff Swallows have the same plumage. This isn’t very common in the swallows or even the small bird world. They are dark overall with a distinctive rusty rump and chin. But what really stands out to me is a small tan to white forehead, just behind the bill. This feature really stands out when you see these birds in flight. Next time you see a flock of small birds, stop and look for the white spot on the forehead to see if they are the amazing Cliff Swallow. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
Great Crested Flycatcher
It really seems like a classic scenario that the most common and the largest family of birds in the world is found right here in North and South America, usually referred to as the “New World” and the crazy part is, you most likely have never heard of these birds. They are the flycatchers.
The Flycatchers, family Tyrannidae, have more than 400 different species in the New World. They are extremely common, and no doubt there is at least one kind of flycatcher in your yard, and you may not even realize it.
The different species in the flycatcher family vary greatly in size and color pattern; however, they all have a similar shape and, more importantly, they all have a similar strategy for finding and capturing food. The name “flycatcher” refers to this group of birds’ ability to hunt for insects, and more often they hunt while in flight. The typical flycatcher sits on a branch in an open or semi-open area and, using their keen eyesight, spots an unsuspecting insect flying by. The flycatcher bolts from the branch and snatches the insect from the sky before rapidly returning to the same perch to wait for another.
Most flycatchers are plain-looking, usually with hues of brown, gray, green, or yellow. Most are not super colorful-looking birds. There are some exceptions to this, such as the Vermilion Flycatcher, whose male is bright vermilion red, but in general most could be described as drab.
All flycatchers have a long, narrow, pointed bill, used for catching insects, and they all have excellent eyesight. As mentioned before, flycatchers inhabit just about every kind of habitat found in the Americas. From the lowland evergreen forests to the mountainous evergreen forests, to river bottoms and forest edges, even the semi-tropical regions of Florida to the deserts of the Southwestern United States. Some kind of flycatcher has made these habitats their home.
So, this spring, I was making and installing several natural cavity nest boxes on my property. A couple of these natural cavities were larger, and I thought perhaps I would get lucky and attract a nesting pair of Northern Flickers. Flickers are a type of woodpecker that often doesn’t excavate a nest cavity every spring and often nests in old cavities, so I thought I had a good chance to attract the flickers. In addition to installing this natural cavity nest, I also installed a camera so I could see if the flickers checked it out. I was all set.
Over the next weeks and months, what I saw was that no flickers checked out the nest, but rather a pair of Great Crested Flycatchers seemed very interested. The Great Crested Flycatcher is one of the largest of the flycatchers and is the most widespread flycatcher in the eastern half of the country. It is usually found on the treetops and rarely comes down low to the ground. Chances are that you have this bird in your yard and never realize it if you have tall trees. They have a bright lemon-yellow chest and belly and a long rusty red tail. They are very vocal and give a characteristic “weeeep” call, making them easy to identify.
It didn’t take long, and the pair of flycatchers started bringing in nesting material. In a few short weeks, the adult pair was feeding the babies within the cavity. A couple of times I set up a blind along with my long-lens camera and waited for the adults. I was able to capture some amazing images of the adults bringing in food for the babies. Sometimes in nature, when you expect a woodpecker, instead you get a flycatcher. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
Pileated Woodpeckers
In the bird world, there are a few birds that really stand out. They stand out so much that even non-bird people seem to be able to identify them or at least have heard about the bird. The Peregrine Falcon is a good example. They may not be able to identify the Peregrine, but they have at least heard of this bird. I believe the Pileated Woodpecker is another of these universally known and perhaps recognized birds.
The Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus) is our largest woodpecker, measuring 16-19 inches in length, or approximately the same size as the American Crow. It is the largest woodpecker in North America and the third largest woodpecker in the world. It is found mainly in deciduous forests in the eastern half of the country from Florida to Maine and westward to the Great Lakes and the boreal forests of Canada. There is a smaller population in the west running down the Pacific coast.
The name “Pileated” is Latin for the word “capped” or “hat”, which describes the red crest on top of their heads on both males and females of the species. The rest of the bird’s body is black with white markings going down the neck. The males have a red mark from the corner of the mouth going back towards the neck resembling a mustache and a red forehead. The female has a black mustache mark and black forehead, so they are easy to tell apart.
The Pileated Woodpecker is non-migratory and stays in their territory as a mated pair for the entire year. Territories are large, ranging from 150 to over 500 acres in size. In areas with fragmented or isolated habitats, such as suburban yards and parks, their territory is smaller, averaging 50-100 acres.
This spring I had a wonderful opportunity to study and capture images of a pair of Pileated Woodpeckers while they nested in a large dead tree. The female often chooses the nest site, but the male does most of the excavating of the nesting chamber. The nest cavity can take anywhere from a week to several months to excavate. Pileated Woodpeckers are well known for starting a nest cavity and then stopping, only to return the following season to finish.
In this case, the pair chose a large dead tree on the edge of a woodland pond. By the time I started watching the nest, they had already finished the cavity, and the female had laid her eggs. On average, they have three to five eggs. Both the male and female incubate the eggs. The male typically incubates at night, and they switch off during the day. Incubation lasts 12-16 days. The young take about 30 days before fledging or leaving the nest. Once the young leave the nest, they don’t return.
The abandoned nest cavity turns into desirable real estate, with many species of forest-dwelling birds depending upon the former woodpecker home. In particular, Wood Ducks, which are cavity-nesting birds, depend upon old Pileated Woodpecker cavities for nesting. In fact, while I was filming the woodpeckers at the cavity, several female Wood Ducks stopped by to check out the cavity, only to be chased away by one of the adult woodpeckers.
One common misconception about baby Pileated Woodpeckers is that they appear smaller and look different from the adults. In fact, the young grow so quickly that by the time they leave the nest cavity, they are not only the same size as the adults but also have the same feather markings and plumage as the adults.
While most of us don’t get to see the Pileated Woodpecker very often, it is still a well-known woodpecker that seems to have its reputation placed well before it. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
Indigo Bunting
Most birds nest in early spring or, at the latest, early summer, but there are a handful of small birds that wait to reproduce until late summer. The American Goldfinch is a good example of a bird that waits until late summer when their main food source, small plant seeds, are more plentiful. They utilize the excess seeds to feed their young growing chicks.
But right now, in late summer, there is one small bird that is very actively reproducing: the Indigo Bunting (Passerina cyanea). The Indigo Bunting is a small, seed- and insect-eating bird in the cardinal family, Cardinalidae. It is highly migratory and is one of the last birds to arrive in spring and stays through late summer before heading back south for the winter.
As their name implies, the male Indigo Bunting is a brilliant blue color from head to tail, sometimes appearing cobalt, sometimes turquoise, sometimes almost black depending on the light. The surprising truth is that the bird has no blue pigment in its feathers. Like the blue of the sky, the color is produced by microscopic structures, deep within each feather barbule that bend and scatter light. Viewed in poor light on a cloudy or rainy day, the same blue bird looks gray and rather plain.
Females are a completely different story. They are warm brown, modestly streaked, and easy to overlook. This difference makes sense in the bird world. A male benefits from being visible as he sings and defends a territory. A female benefits from being hidden, especially when she is sitting on eggs or tending young in a nest tucked low in dense vegetation. In many ways, the quiet brown female is the reason the species succeeds, even if the blue male gets most of the attention.
Indigo Buntings favor forest edges. They are a bird of brushy fields, overgrown pastures, woodland borders, powerline cuts, roadside thickets, and abandoned farms where shrubs are reclaiming the ground. This is why they often show up where habitat is in transition. A manicured lawn will not do much for them. A messy corner with native grasses, blackberry canes, dogwood, sumac, goldenrod, and young trees is definitely more inviting.
During late summer, when these birds are reproducing, insects and spiders are important foods, especially for growing nestlings. Caterpillars, beetles, grasshoppers, and aphids are all on the menu. At other times, Indigo Buntings feed heavily on small seeds and even berries. This is another reminder that what we call weeds are often great food for wildlife. Remove every wild stem from a property, and you remove a portion of the local food web.
The nest is usually built by the female, placed low in a shrub or a tangle of branches, often only a few feet above the ground. It is a small cup of woven grasses, leaves, stems, and bark strips, secured with spider silk and lined with finer plant materials. A typical nest contains three or four pale blue eggs. Incubation lasts roughly two weeks, and the young leave the nest less than two weeks after hatching.
I find that at this time of year, the song is one of the best ways to find them. Males commonly sing a series of paired phrases, delivered again and again from an exposed perch. Birders sometimes describe the cadence as double notes: sweet-sweet, chew-chew, here-here. Young males learn their songs from other males and their fathers, creating local song neighborhoods.
Perhaps the most astonishing part of the Indigo Bunting’s life happens in early fall when they migrate. These tiny birds migrate at night from the breeding grounds across much of the eastern and central United States and southern Canada to wintering grounds in Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean, and northern South America. Several research studies on Indigo Buntings have shown that they use the stars to help guide their journey. Imagine a bird weighing about half an ounce lifting into the night and navigating by peering into the night sky.
For all their beauty, Indigo Buntings face familiar life challenges. Loss of brushy habitat, intensive mowing, expanding housing development, collisions with vehicles, and nighttime collisions with buildings or towers during migration all take a toll. Fortunately, they are still widespread and considered a species of low conservation concern, but common birds deserve our attention before they become uncommon.
If you want to help, leave some edges of your yard a little wild. Plant native shrubs. Reduce mowing where possible. Let a patch of goldenrods stand through the season. Keep cats indoors. Turn off unnecessary lights during migration. Small choices, repeated across many yards and farms, create the kind of living landscape these birds need.
When you are out enjoying the warmth of the late summer days, listen to the song or watch for a flash of blue along a fence row. It is the marvelous Indigo Bunting, a half-ounce traveler that knows the stars. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
White Pelicans
There are some birds that seem almost too improbable to be real. The American White Pelican (Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) is one of them. With a wingspan stretching nearly nine feet and a bill so absurdly oversized, this is a bird that is hard to misidentify for anything else. Yet, despite their enormous size, White Pelicans fly with astonishing grace. Flocks can often be seen circling overhead, catching invisible columns of rising warm air, called thermals, wheeling higher without a single wingbeat. But it wasn’t always this way.
Not that long ago, spotting a white pelican was a genuine birding event. Birders posted the locations of pelicans that they spotted. Photographers packed their cameras. Birders drove miles just to catch a glimpse of these magnificent birds. Their numbers had dwindled so dramatically that many people assumed they were becoming another conservation tragedy. When I first started writing field guides for birds, forty years ago, these birds weren’t even found in most states.
Fortunately, the story of the American White Pelican has taken a much happier turn. Like so many wildlife success stories, the decline of the American White Pelican wasn’t caused by a single factor or event. Instead, it was the result of several human-caused pressures piling on at once.
The first challenge came from habitat loss. White Pelicans nest in large colonies on isolated islands in shallow lakes. These islands protect them from predators such as foxes, coyotes, raccoons, and even humans. As wetlands were drained for agriculture and development, many of these productive shallow lakes disappeared.
Human disturbance also played a significant role. Pelicans are highly sensitive during the nesting season. A single person wandering too close to a nesting colony can send hundreds of adults into the air. While the adults circle overhead, eggs and young chicks become vulnerable to overheating in the summer sun or opportunistic gulls eager for an easy meal. Sometimes repeated disturbances caused entire colonies to abandon their nests.
The widespread use of chemicals such as DDT entered aquatic food chains and accumulated in fish, which pelicans consume almost exclusively. Although Bald Eagles and Peregrine Falcons became the symbols of DDT’s devastating effects, pelicans were also impacted. Contaminants reduced reproductive success in many waterbird populations, making recovery increasingly difficult.
Beginning in the 1970s, conservation efforts started. Wetlands received greater protection. Wildlife managers recognized the importance of safeguarding nesting colonies. Public environmental education encouraged people to give nesting birds plenty of space. Most importantly, DDT was banned in the United States, allowing aquatic ecosystems to begin a slow recovery.
Slowly, nesting colonies began producing more chicks. Existing colonies expanded while new colonies formed in suitable habitat. Today, breeding populations have grown throughout much of the northern Great Plains and central Canada. During migration, large flocks now stop at reservoirs, rivers, and natural lakes across the Midwest.
I’ve watched these giant birds skim just inches above the water before landing with barely a splash. Their comeback reminds me of something we often overlook. Wildlife populations rarely recover overnight. Conservation isn’t glamorous. It usually happens in one protected wetland, one restored island, one successful nesting season at a time. The results may take decades to become visible, but when they do, they are nothing short of extraordinary.
Of course, challenges remain. A changing climate with its associated prolonged drought, increasing recreational pressure, and outbreaks of avian diseases continue to threaten pelican colonies.
Still, every time I see a flock of American White Pelicans soaring silently overhead, I can’t help but smile. They are living proof that when we identify problems and commit to solving them, nature often responds with remarkable resilience.
The next time you find yourself near a lake and notice a line of enormous white birds gliding low across the water, take a moment to appreciate what you’re seeing. They represent decades of protection, environmental education, scientific research, public awareness, and stewardship. In a world where good environmental news sometimes seems hard to find, the return of the American White Pelican is a welcome reminder that given a chance, nature has an incredible capacity to heal and to soar. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
Red-necked Grebes
Each spring I lead photo workshops to capture images of the Common Loon. This iconic waterbird of the northern lakes looks amazing, and when the tiny babies ride on the adults’ backs, the participants can capture amazing images. Of course, while we are out for many hours on my boat, we see and photograph several other species of bird, but there is one species in particular that seems to always grab everyone’s attention. It is the Red-necked Grebe (Podiceps grisegena).
The Red-necked Grebe is an aquatic bird found in the upper Midwest and well into Canada and Alaska. It is a smaller aquatic bird that really doesn’t match the splendor of the Common Loon. During the breeding season, they have a dull red neck, hence the common name. Males and females look remarkably similar and are hard to tell apart. They are marked by a large, dirty-white cheek patch and a dark crest on the top of their heads. They have short, plump, and round bodies and short, narrow wings. Like loons, their legs and feet are located far back on their body, making them clumsy on land. They build a floating nest out of aquatic vegetation, which means they really don’t spend any time on land.
Rarely do you see these birds fly. Their short, pointed wings allow them to fly at speeds upwards of 50 mph. They migrate at night, so there isn’t much chance of witnessing them flying.
Like other grebes, the Red-necked Grebe is a powerful swimmer and can dive and swim underwater fast enough to catch fish. In response to danger, such as a Bald Eagle or other predator, they dive underwater instead of taking flight. They have large, webbed toes, which means the webbing goes around each individual toe and does not spread across from toe to toe like in ducks.
But what really makes these birds a hit with the photographers are the babies. The young Red-necked Grebes have a black and white, zebra pattern on their head, neck, and upper body. The adults usually reproduce with 4 eggs. After they hatch, the young take to the water right away, and will ride on the backs of the adults. Often all four young get under the wings of one of the adults with only their zebra-striped heads sticking out. This is when the Red-necked Grebe steals the photo show. Everyone loves how it looks like a multi-head zebra striped monster floating in the water.
Red-necked Grebes are one of the most vocal of all grebes, especially during the breeding season. When the male and female are separated for a while, upon returning they often approach each other and give a loud raspy call in duet, which makes it very loud when combined together. They call at any time of day or night, with the calls lasting upwards of a minute, which is a lot since most bird calls only last a few seconds.
Similar to other grebe species, the adults will often preen out a tiny feather from their body and feed it to the young grebes. It is thought that eating feathers is an adaptation to help slow the digestion of the mainly insect and fish diet to allow the bird to extract all nutrients. It may also provide a way to trap and hold onto the indigestible parts such as bones and exoskeletons of insects so they can be regurgitated later.
So, the Red-necked Grebe may not be well known and super flashy looking like the Common Loon, but they seem to capture the eye and interest of anyone who takes a moment to check them out. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
Baltimore Oriole
Every winter I lead a group of photographers to Costa Rica. Birds are usually the main subject in our photographic efforts. We see hundreds of different species, mostly tropical birds that live year-round in Costa Rica and don’t migrate. However, there are a couple of birds that every time I see them, it brings me back home. One in particular, the Baltimore Oriole, is a particular favorite hometown bird.
The Baltimore Oriole (Icterus galbula) is a common backyard bird in the eastern half of the United States. Chances are you have these birds, as I do in my yard. I also take the extra step to provide a feeding station for the orioles that visit. So, let’s take a look at the Neo-tropical migrant, the Baltimore Oriole. Let’s start with the name. The “Baltimore” part of their name came from the orange and black color of the male, which resembled the coat of arms on the 17th-century Lord Baltimore. I find this interesting because our Baltimore Oriole is a New World bird, which means it is not found in Europe or the UK, where Lord Baltimore resided. Ultimately, our oriole was named this because it looked similar to a bird found in Europe.
The second part of the name “Oriole” comes from the Latin aureoles which means “golden”. I suppose that works on some level since the female is yellowish or golden in appearance.
Now here is where it gets interesting. There are 33 species of Orioles in the Americas. All of these are in the Blackbird Family (Icteridae). That’s right, our wonderful orioles are specifically New World birds, which means they are only found in North, Central, and South America, and nowhere else. They are truly hometown American birds!
I find it amazing that a tropical bird such as the Baltimore Oriole would migrate such great distances. First of all, why would you leave the tropics in the first place? The answers to these migration questions can never be fully answered or understood. All we really know is that migration started millions of years ago and approximately 40 percent of all birds in the world do some kind of migration. We do know that if the cost of migration were greater than the benefits, the birds would have evolved out of it a very long time ago. So, since birds are still migrating long distances, it must still really benefit them in some positive way.
We are definitely the beneficiaries of the long migration because we get to see a cool-looking tropical bird right in our own backyards. Most people attract these birds to a feeding station by offering a combination of grape jelly and fresh oranges cut in half and presented with the flesh of the orange pointing upward.
Recently I was asked if the high sugar content of the grape jelly would be a health hazard for the Baltimore Orioles. Let’s put it this way: the life of a small songbird is difficult to say the least. Every day, larger predator birds are out hunting small birds such as the oriole. Day-to-day survival is difficult. Plus, small birds such as orioles only live about 5-7 years, so long-term effects from a high sugar diet really don’t factor into the bird’s life. Keep in mind that they also eat a ton of insects to help balance out their diet. Providing grape jelly and oranges at a feeding station only helps to round out the birds’ total nutritional needs and isn’t the sole food source. Also, the reason we feed birds is to draw them closer so we can enjoy seeing and hearing the beautiful birds.
So go ahead and enjoy the tropical birds that migrate thousands of miles to visit us each spring and summer. I will look forward to seeing my migratory friends this winter when I once again return to the tropics of Costa Rica. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
Spring Bird Migration
The spring migration is a busy time of year in the natural world. According to Cornell University Birdcast (Birdcast.org), nearly three million migrating birds passed over my part of the northland last night. Most of these migrating birds occurred around 4 to 4:30 am and were traveling around 40 mph at an altitude of 700 feet. According to their data, the migration started around 9 pm the night before and peaked just before sunrise. So far, this is the highest evening total, but it is only the beginning of this spring’s migration. We will see more as we move through the month of May.
I was checking this data on my phone while I was photographing birds in my yard. A Yellow-rumped Warbler landed at my suet feeder. Its tiny wings were fluttering to hold in place while he grabbed a beak-full of nutritious suet. Normally, warblers do not visit backyard feeding stations, but during the spring migration and especially when the weather is cold and wet, these warblers are desperate for anything to eat. Insects make up the majority of their “normal diet,” but with the cold, wet weather, there are very few insects around, so these birds turn to alternative food sources. This is when people notice an “unusual” bird at their feeders.
White-throated Sparrows are another springtime visitor to backyard feeding stations. These striking ground-dwelling sparrows with their black and white striped heads and bright white throat patch are migrating in small flocks and are often mixed in with other sparrow species. The White-throated Sparrows feed mainly on the ground, so they are usually seen scratching around under a feeding station. I have dozens around my feeding station. The White-throated Sparrow spends the winter in far southern states and joins the millions of birds as they migrate northwards, heading to Canada. I was able to capture some decent images before they continued their migration northwards.
Another interesting visitor to my feeders was an adult Red-headed Woodpecker. While capturing images of the spring migrants, I noticed a Red-headed Woodpecker landed on my peanut feeder. This is an interesting bird to visit my feeders because I normally do not see these birds around. In the mid-1800s, the Red-headed Woodpecker was one of the most common woodpeckers in America. John James Audubon reported that orchard owners would pay a bounty to anyone who would shoot the Red-headed Woodpecker because the bird would feed on their fruits. Audubon reported that over one hundred Red-headed Woodpeckers were shot from just one cherry tree.
Back in the day, the Red-headed Woodpecker would rely on Chestnut trees to produce large crops of chestnuts. The great Chestnut blight, a fungus from Asia, killed off nearly all of America’s Chestnut trees in the early 1900s, leaving the Red-headed Woodpecker looking for a new food source. Data from the Audubon Christmas Bird Count (CBC) shows a 55-75 percent decline in the Red-headed Woodpecker population from the year 1966 to 2020.
The Red-headed Woodpecker migrates, but not like the typical neotropical birds, like a warbler. In spring, they move around a lot, traveling hundreds of miles in search of fresh territory or colonies of other Red-headed Woodpeckers, so it is not unheard of that they would visit feeders in the spring for a couple of days. As I mentioned before, spring is a busy time of year in the natural world. If you take a few minutes to stop and observe, you will see it for yourself. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
House and Purple Finch
The identification of some bird species can be challenging, especially with some species of small birds. For example, many people struggle when trying to differentiate between the House Finch (Haemorphous mexicanus) and the Purple Finch (Haemorphous purpureus). Right away, you will notice that the Genus name Haemorphous is the same for both birds. The Genus name is Greek and means “blood-rumped,” which refers to the red patch at the base of the tail, which the males of both species display.
When two species that look similar and have a shared ancestry (homology), it’s called parallel evolution. In parallel evolution, each species maintains similar traits due to similar ecological pressures. This makes sense, but there is one huge problem: the House Finch and the Purple Finch did not co-evolve in the same regions or under similar pressures. You see, the House Finch is not a native species to the eastern half of the United States, unlike the Purple Finch, even though the House Finch is now found just about everywhere in the United States.
The House Finch is a common bird that often nests on or near our homes and readily comes to backyard feeding stations. Originally, it was found throughout the western half of the country. In the early 1900’s, thousands of birds were captured in California and shipped to New York, where they were sold as caged birds under the name of “Hollywood Finch”. In the 1940’s, laws were passed that made this practice illegal, and pet stores and private citizens released hundreds of these birds into the wild. The newly released House Finches found each other and started to reproduce, and within 50 years, they colonized the entire eastern half of the country.
The Purple Finch, which naturally occurs in the eastern half of the country, breeds in coniferous forests in Canada and the far northern parts of Minnesota, Michigan, and Maine. For nesting, the Purple Finch stays away from human houses, unlike the House Finch, and is more of a wilderness bird.
The Purple Finch is a migratory bird that moves into the southern states during winter. Each spring, when the Purple Finch migrates back up to Canada, it stops in at many backyard feeding stations across the eastern United States. This is where the confusion comes in. Since the House Finch and the Purple Finch look so similar and both come to feeding stations, it leads to confusion.
This spring, I had dozens of Purple Finches visiting my feeders for over 2 weeks. It was fabulous to see a bird that I normally don’t see. They were migrating northward and took a break at my feeders to rest and fuel up. They need energy to make the last leg of their northern journey and to get ready for the breeding season.
As I mentioned earlier, the Purple Finch and House Finch look very similar. Fortunately, when it comes to the females, they are easy to tell the difference. Both are grayish brown with faint white marks. However, the female Purple Finch has a distinctive white mark or stripe over the eye, and the female House Finch doesn’t, making the females easy to differentiate.
Male Purple Finch are more raspberry red in color than the male House Finch. In addition, the male Purple Finch has a slight crest of feathers on its head, giving them a “peaked” head appearance. Male House Finches have a flat top of the head and a small, round patch of brown feathers. The male Purple Finch usually lacks any brown streaking on their sides and belly, unlike the House Finch, which has prominent brown and white streaking.
So, there you have it, at first the two finches appear similar, but upon a closer look, there are some obvious differences which should help you correctly identify the finches that come to your feeders in the spring. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.
Snowshoe Hare
Spring is a season of change, or more precisely, a season of transition. Transitions are the dynamic periods of change in nature that highlight the annual cycles. Spring is sometimes described as a transitional season and the bridge between the two extremely different seasons, summer and winter.
The gates of migration and preparation for the breeding season ahead have been flung open. Millions of animals, birds, insects, reptiles, and amphibians are in a state of transition. I was thinking about this last week while I was in Alaska leading a photo tour. On the very last morning, I had an hour of time to myself. I knew of a place where I had seen Snowshoe Hares in the past, so I thought I would take a chance and see if I could find one.
It seems like Snowshoe Hares (Lepus americanus) are always in a state of transition, and at this time of year, late winter and early spring, I knew they would be changing from their winter white fur to the summer brown. The ability to change color is controlled by a single pigmentation gene that is activated during the autumn and spring molt. What kicks off the changes is the photoperiod, or the amount of daylight.
As I walked into a small section of forest right next to the Kachemak Bay, I saw some fresh hare tracks. We had a very light dusting of snow overnight, so I knew that the tracks were just a few hours old. As I made my way through the thick tangle of branches, trying to protect my camera and also remain standing on my feet, I thought I saw a flash of white deeper in the thickest part of the woods. Instead of crashing through a nearly impenetrable tangle of branches, I thought I would go around to the side of the woods and enter from a different direction.
Again, I found fresh tracks. This time, they looked like the tracks were just a few minutes old. Just two steps into the thicket of wood, I saw the first Snowshoe Hare. It was behind so many branches that it wasn’t even worth taking a picture. Trying to move slowly and quietly was nearly impossible due to thick undergrowth.
I turned around and headed towards the clearing, feeling defeated. Just then, I saw a young bull Moose. I approached the moose, but he was standing in a thick stand of willow. I grabbed a couple of images and checked my watch. It was time for me to head back. I thought I would cut across a grassy opening and climb a steep hill. Just as I got to the bottom of the hill, I saw some movement to my right. I turned and looked, and there was a Snowshoe Hare under a large fallen Aspen branch.
Again, this hare was covered by so many branches that it really wasn’t worth taking the picture, so I just waited. About 5 minutes later, the Snowshoe hopped out into a small opening. The problem was that the hare was facing away from me. I could see its left eye only, and it was munching on a twig. Again, there wasn’t a good picture, so I waited longer. Five more minutes went by, and I was just about to give up when the hare turned its head and looked directly at me. Fortunately, I was kneeling down in the snow and had my camera ready. I took a burst of images just before the hare turned back and jumped underneath a fallen tree and was gone. The entire time the Snowshoe Hare turned and looked at me was about 1 to 2 seconds, but that is all it took to obtain a good image.
I walked back happy that I took the time to wait for the right moment and capture the image I had envisioned. The Snowshoe Hare is transitioning from the winter white fur and a diet of dried twigs and branches to a solid brown coat of fur and a diet of fresh greens. What a difference a season makes. Until next time…
About Stan
Stan Tekiela is an author, naturalist, and wildlife photographer who travels extensively to study and photograph wildlife. He can be followed on Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and contacted via his website at naturesmart.com.