Baltimore Oriole

Print Friendly and PDF
Orange meets orange. Photo by Phil Brown

Orange meets orange. Photo by Phil Brown

Spellbound weaving of dried grasses, strings, wool, thistle, and thimbleweed initiates an enchanted nest, high in a cottonwood, where the Baltimore oriole raises its young during the summer months. The magic of the oriole might be best understood in its plumage. An orange, sliced in half and stuck on a feeder, soon becomes the second most vibrant object in the yard once the Baltimore oriole finds it.

The characteristic male oriole is hard to miss, but the juvenile males and females—often a lighter orange or yellow—are sometimes overlooked or misidentified. I remember a few years back I had a juvenile in the oak near my house that gave me fits identifying it.

The awkward look of the juvenile Baltimore oriole, photo by Kelly Colgan Azar

The awkward look of the juvenile Baltimore oriole, photo by Kelly Colgan Azar

Some orioles in Canada have undergone a serious change, a sorcerous shift that had many people misidentifying the birds as tanagers. They were red orioles. Researchers soon ran experiments to determine what was happening to paint the orioles red. In birds, the carotenoid pigments are obtained externally, through diet, and produce pigments like red, orange, and yellow.

In humans, the consumption of beta-carotene (occurring in carrots, bell peppers, and squash) can cause hypercarotenaemia, where feet, hands, and even the skin overall can take on an orange appearance. Likewise, in orioles, the consumption of invasive honeysuckle berries, which are rich in rhodaxanthin, can turn the pigment of the feathers red and orange. A similar process has occurred in some cedar waxwings that have a diet relying on the honeysuckle berries.

This odd bird raises even more questions. Cedar waxwings were documented to have their pigment changed as early as the 1960’s in response to consuming honeysuckle. Why did it take orioles so long to start appearing a different color? Also, why were these birds consuming honeysuckle berries in the first place? In the heat of the summer, orioles typically consume an insect heavy diet, though fruits remain a part of their diet throughout the year. For these birds to eat enough honeysuckle berries to become red, they must have eaten a large quantity of berries. It’s possible that the invasion of honeysuckle into forested areas caused a crash in the food web, and one of the only diet staples available was the honeysuckle. It would be interesting to follow the health of these red birds, and their potential young, to see if any adverse effects emerge.

Baltimore oriole nestling and its nest, photo by Andy Reago & Chrissy McClarren

Baltimore oriole nestling and its nest, photo by Andy Reago & Chrissy McClarren

You can see Baltimore orioles right now at Faville Grove Sanctuary, where the birds are setting up a home territory and starting to weave those intricate nests. Scattered groups of oaks, or big trees near water are potential spots you could find a nest. If you see a red bird that you determine to be an oriole in August, perhaps it’s a sign that we need to increase our control of the invasive honeysuckle.

Written by Drew Harry, Faville Grove Sanctuary land steward

The “Not So” Reckless Wrens 2020 Birdathon and COVID-19

Print Friendly and PDF
Baltimore orioles everywhere at Otsego Marsh! Photo by Kelly Colgan Azar

Baltimore orioles everywhere at Otsego Marsh! Photo by Kelly Colgan Azar

The word “reckless” is defined as thoughtless, irresponsible and uncontrolled. Not so for our stalwart group of seasoned birders who took to the marshes, ponds, woodlots and prairies for the annual Great Wisconsin Birdathon that raises funds for Madison Audubon and the Natural Resources Foundation’s Bird Protection Fund. We began the count at 7:30 a.m. on May 15 and ended 24 hours later. The weather was perfect and so were the birds that seemed to show up on cue to be counted.

The COVID-19 virus set the rules for the count. For the first time, we were all going to be social distancing by separating into teams of one or two individuals based on households, each responsible for canvasing a specific area within our total count range. Although this might have seemed like a disadvantage, the divide and conquer method of birding turned out to be a very successful strategy that brought a record-breaking 137 species to the Reckless Wrens bird list

Graham and Calla, just one household unit of the Reckless Wrens team, get their bird count started. Photo by Richard Armstrong

Graham and Calla, just one household unit of the Reckless Wrens team, get their bird count started. Photo by Richard Armstrong

We knew that the 2020 bird count was going to be strong. If what we were seeing for yard birds was an indication of what birds might be seen on the count day, we would not be disappointed. Birds at the Martin's cabin feeders and around the yard were colorful and plentiful. All seven species of woodpeckers, orioles, goldfinches, house finches, rose-breasted grosbeaks, hummingbirds and indigo buntings were some species that came to mind.

The 24-hour period featured beautiful sunny skies, light winds and low humidity. Vehicle traffic was light and only a single jet plane contrail was spotted. Instead, turkey vultures drifted overhead in graceful patterns that could have been orchestrated by bored air traffic controllers. We also had bald eagles, a northern harrier, and American kestrels cruising the skies overhead.

Turkey vultures teeter and totter in the clear air. Photo by Arlene Koziol

Turkey vultures teeter and totter in the clear air. Photo by Arlene Koziol

“Safer at Home” might have better prepared us for our day with the birds by clearing our minds of the normal day-to-day distractions that can clutter our thoughts. We might have been more tuned into the songs and sights of the colorful birds that surround us that otherwise might have gone unnoticed. So too were the sounds of the wind through the trees or the liquid tinkling of water flowing in the creeks where we stood that day. 

The 2020 count was different because the rules had been changed by a virus. We know that the number of birds is declining precipitously, but on this day the birds were with us. 

Numbers and some highlights:

In the first seven years the Reckless Wrens averaged 96 species with the previous high of 121 in 2018. We have many highlights and memories from this year. This year was a record count for American white pelicans: 1 at Goose Pond, 5 at Mud Lake Wildlife Area WA, 20 at Otsego Marsh, 25 at a Waterfowl Production Area (WPA) northeast of Pardeeville, and 68 at Schoeneberg Marsh WPA/Erstad Prairie. American bitterns are a new species for our count and were found at Goose Pond and Rowan Creek Fishery Area. We were very pleased to find black terns (state-endangered), 12 at Whalen Grade, 13 at Schoeneberg Marsh WPA/Erstad Prairie, and 25 black terns at Grassy Lake WA. A highlight for the Martins was finding two active red-shouldered hawk nests (state-threatened) and two more nests that might be active. Overall, we found 12 species that are listed as State-endangered, threatened, or special concern.

Red-shouldered hawk nestlings, photo by Arlene Koziol

Red-shouldered hawk nestlings, photo by Arlene Koziol


Kathy and Jim Shurts wrote:

We started our Birdathon day at the Vienna Waterfowl Production Area on County V just west of DeForest.  This set the tone for the day, visiting various wetlands and flooded fields in northern Dane County and southern Columbia County. The water table was high everywhere and we were routinely slowing down or stopping to look over the flooded fields and ponds. One thing that really stood out is that there is no lack of Red-winged Blackbirds, Canada Geese, or Sandhill Cranes in this part of Wisconsin! We did bird at small woodlots as well, and these provided highlights, especially the squabbling male Baltimore Orioles. The flashes of bright orange are always a delight. We ended our day at Whalen Grade, a road that dissects Whalen Bay from the rest of Lake Wisconsin. The Black Terns and Common Terns, both state endangered species, were a treat to see. Whalen Grade is also a popular fishing spot and there were many people out on this nice day fishing from shore. We missed our fellow team members but still had a good time.


Birdathon Calla and Graham.jpg

Graham wrote:

Birding for Calla and me is a calm and leisurely activity that encourages us to explore wildlife areas, state natural areas, and parks. While the Birdathon fits that description, it has an edge of urgency that I do not find in a non-event setting. We started at 7:30 a.m. and by 5:00 p.m. there were 92 species written down for the two of us. Neither of us has ever made a checklist that large. After Calla and I discussed our options, we agreed to find 100 species within the 24-hour period. We were so close already, why not try?

After sunset we were on the search for some night birds around Governor Nelson State Park. We had given up on owls when a large bodied raptor lifted out of a tree and disappeared immediately into the darkness. Neither of us had good enough night vision to tell what it was, but the speaker is an excellent birding tool. We hopped out, played a great horned owl call, and the bird soared in as silently as it had left landing in an oak at 20 yards. It sat for a moment like a statue. We didn’t move either. Two minutes later the bird started hopping and hooting, and Calla jotted down great horned owl. We got up early the following morning, and reached our goal of 100 birds. Here are a few other events of note:

  1. A red-tailed hawk nest was found at Otsego Marsh last year. Calla did an imitation of the bird with a keee-arr, to see if she could get their attention. The nest appeared inactive, but two nearby red-headed woodpeckers were startled into flight. This was a first for Calla, and she was ecstatic.

  2. Blue-gray gnatcatchers are tiny ping pong ball birds with very angry eyebrows. Neither of us had seen one until one dropped in on us at Goose Pond.

  3. Otsego Marsh is FULL of Baltimore orioles, especially near the parking lot. It was a treat to have a dozen males flashing orange and singing while a few females decided who to pick.


JD Arnston wrote:

JD checking out warbler heaven! Photo by Mark Martin

JD checking out warbler heaven! Photo by Mark Martin

I started the Birdathon a bit later in the day than most — leaving work at 5:00 p.m. to go birding at Rowan Creek Fishery Area near Poynette where I knew I could add a red-breasted nuthatch to the team's list. In addition to the nuthatch, I saw several other great species including an American bittern, barred owl, and a golden-winged warbler — a lifer for me. I continued to bird until 10:00 p.m., finding a common nighthawk at Goose Pond and a pair of eastern screech owls! My Birdathon didn't stop there, as I met up with Mark the next morning at 6:30 a.m. at Mud Lake WA to search for warblers. We made sure to bird at a safe distance (6 feet or more) and had an amazing hour, with 13 species of warblers seen. Although I had several highlights throughout these my few hours, my favorite moment was when we saw a black-throated blue warbler (another lifer for me), a prothonotary warbler, and a northern waterthrush along forested ponds where we found other warblers such as magnolia and Nashville warblers flitted overhead. This was the first Birdathon that I've helped with, and I'm already looking forward to next year's count. 



Special thanks to the donors and others please consider giving a financial gift to the Reckless Wren Birdathon Team to support Madison Audubon and the Bird Protection Fund.

 

Written by Sue Foote-Martin and Mark Martin Goose Pond resident managers, Jim (team captain) and Kathy Shurts, Graham Steinhauer, Goose Pond land steward, Calla Norris, and JD Arnston.

Warblers

Print Friendly and PDF
Nashville warbler, photo by Monica Hall

Nashville warbler, photo by Monica Hall

The influx of birds, specifically warblers, from neotropical regions at this point in May is one of the most spectacular natural phenomena of the upper latitudes. On a calm and decently warm day, take a walk into the woods, and even if you can’t tell a warbler from a sparrow, you will see, with increasing excitement, a great diversity of birds. The most apparent and most common will call to you initially, those cardinals and blue jays which are delightful to watch. But listen for a little whistle, a chirp, a movement in a bush, or a song from a treetop, and you might make out a small little bird. Looking closer with binoculars will reveal a bundle of color and joy bouncing among the newly emerging leaves. Yellow is a prominent hue, sometimes contrasted with bold black streaks, other times paired with a white eye ring, or a beautiful blue-gray back. You might also see oranges, reds, and blues.

From (Hurlbert and Haskell 2003)

From (Hurlbert and Haskell 2003)

Generally, the thinking goes that the colorful birds live in the tropics, and those exotic colors are reserved for exotic locations. Indeed, many of the birds we are seeing outside right now do live part of the year in the tropics, but they are here now, in full breeding plumage, a resplendent exclamation of life. Many of the warblers will continue to more northern latitudes, but if you go camping in northern Wisconsin, or have visit cabin, chances are you will run into many of these birds again. In terms of breeding bird diversity during the summer months, northern Wisconsin stands out for its resident bird richness among US regions.

There are days—special days, almost always in May—when the number and diversity of birds flying by is truly remarkable. Given the alterations that humans have made to the landscape, the persistence of birds is inspiring. It makes me wonder what migration would have looked like before the European invasion.  But migration today is remarkable in its own right. I remember specific days from the past couple of years that were big birding days the same way I remember that Wisconsin beat number one Ohio State on October 16, 2010. The big birding day last year was May 17, when I kayaked down the Crawfish River. Pausing along the wetland bank, I soon found warblers strung about the bottomland forest, with flocks flying through by the minute. I don’t remember how long I sat there for, but I do remember that it seemed like I could pluck birds out of the sky if I wanted to. And if I were to pluck these birds out of the sky, there would have been bay-breasted, blackburnian, prothonotary, black-throated green, magnolia, northern parulas, Cape May, golden-winged, black-and-white, and Canada warblers.

Usually at this time of the year, I like to bring my binoculars wherever I go. Yet, as I sat down to write this I left my binoculars downstairs, and now I’ve seen small birds zipping amid the oak tree near the house. Were they blue-gray gnatcatchers? Or something uncommon? I’ll never know, but I’d encourage you to get out to areas with trees, including spots at Faville Grove Sanctuary, to see the masses of avian correspondents recently arriving from places like Colombia, Mexico, and the Caribbean.

Written by Drew Harry, Faville Grove Sanctuary land steward

Cover photo: black-and-white warbler, photo by Andy Reago & Chrissy McClarren

Double-crested Cormorant

Print Friendly and PDF

In the first Breeding Bird Atlas of Wisconsin, Sumner Matteson wrote that ornithologist J. Ludwig stated that double-crested cormorants are one of our most elegant and misunderstood colonial waterbirds.  Cormorant numbers have changed greatly over the past 100 years.

Sam Robbins in 1991 Wisconsin Birdlife referenced an article in the LaCrosse Tribune that reported on a flight of cormorants on April 24, 1926, “It continued for two and one-half hours, more or less intermittently, ...The flight was so large that at times it was impossible to see the sunset sky through the mass...The numbers of birds is variously estimated at from 100,000 to 1,000,000.”

Sumner also wrote that “The first documented breeding occurred in 1919 and 1921 (13 nests) in dead trees on the Okee Flowage (Wisconsin River) in southwestern Columbia County.  Victor Martin, Mark’s father, told the story of his brother that shot a cormorant while duck hunting on the Marshall millpond in Dane County around 1925.

Robbins wrote that “By 1960 only three to five birds were observed per season outside of the few remaining breeding colonies.”  A variety of factors contributed to their great decline including commercial fishermen that killed birds at the rookeries, large areas of dead trees in flowages that provided nesting sites eventually fell down and DDT impacted their reproduction.    Robbins wrote “the cormorant became a prime candidate for the endangered species list established in 1973.”

Photo by Richard Armstrong

Photo by Richard Armstrong

Mark met Tom Meier, another wildlife major at UW-Stevens Point that did his master thesis on erection of artificial platforms at the Mead Wildlife Area in Marathon County.  Tom found that the platforms benefitted cormorants as well as great blue herons.    

With the erection of nesting platforms, a reduction in the impact of DDT and protection by being listed as endangered, their numbers recovered and they were removed from the endangered species list in 1985.  Their numbers continued to increase.  Mark and Sue remember in the mid 1990s having a picnic with Mark’s parents in May at a public boat launch on Moonlight Bay near Baileys Harbor in Door County and seeing a flock of comormants that were flying just over the water, one following another, that passed uninterrupted for 20 minutes! 

The first breeding bird atlas (1995-2000) reported that cormorants were confirmed in 24 atlas blocks and the recently completed Atlas II had confirmed nesting from 44 atlas blocks.  Sumner estimated from his 1997 surveys that there were 10,546 pairs nesting in Wisconsin.  At the beginning of this century, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service began controlling their numbers by oiling eggs in the Door County Area to improve fish numbers for commercial and sport fishermen.  However, breeding bird atlas reported in the past five years documented over 13,000 birds nesting on Door County islands.  

We will long remember an atlas trip with Pat Clark, MA board member and Dory Owen and her husband Phillip to Babe’s Island in Beaver Dam Lake last July.  We counted 450 cormorants, including at least 25 young.  Their nesting trees were dead or dying due to the buildup of guano.   The only atlas report of breeding cormorants in Columbia County was reported in 2018 by Laura Wentz who found four adults and 10 young at the Baraboo River Waterfowl Production Area southwest of Portage.

Photo of cormorants and pelicans by Dory Owen

Photo of cormorants and pelicans by Dory Owen

We have seen a few cormorants at Goose Pond in the past. This year they have been around for the past few weeks and Erica Heinig entered 60 on eBird on April 25th and this is the record high count for Goose Pond.  Mark and Graham also counted 60 individuals on May 5th.

Cormorants can be seen sitting and drying off on rocks on the east side of the east pond, flying around or fishing.  They are interesting birds to watch.  You might first see 10 birds fishing together and 20 seconds later another 7 appear.   Cornell Lab of Ornithology reports “They eat a wide variety of fish (more than 250 species have been reported), and they have impressive fishing technique: diving and chasing fish underwater with powerful propulsion from webbed feet. The tip of a cormorant’s upper bill is shaped like a hook, which is helpful for catching prey.”

The hook on this cormorant’s bill is quite noticeable! Photo by Richard Armstrong, taken at Goose Pond

The hook on this cormorant’s bill is quite noticeable! Photo by Richard Armstrong, taken at Goose Pond

At Goose Pond they are feasting on fathead minnows.  The pond was bone dry in 2012 and when the water returned in 2013 it was only a month or two and before we noticed fathead minnows that might have arrived as eggs in the feathers of waterfowl.

Fathead minnows are about four inches in size and can greatly multiply.  Females can lay 100 to 200 eggs per spawn and can spawn every four to five days.  The eggs hatch in four to eight days and the young can breed and lay eggs later in summer.  There must be thousands and thousands of fatheads minnows available for these “elegant” birds with snake-like heads.

 Written by Mark Martin and Sue Foote-Martin, Goose Pond Sanctuary resident managers

Header photo by Richard Armstrong



Range map provided by AllAboutBirds.org

Range map provided by AllAboutBirds.org

Cool Facts from the Cornell lab

  • From a distance, Double-crested Cormorants are dark birds with snaky necks, but up-close they’re quite colorful—with orange-yellow skin on their face and throat, striking aquamarine eyes that sparkle like jewels, and a mouth that is bright blue on the inside.

  • The double crest of the Double-crested Cormorant is only visible on adults during breeding season. The crests are white in cormorants from Alaska and black in other regions.

  • Cormorants often stand in the sun with their wings spread out to dry. They have less preen oil than other birds, so their feathers can get soaked rather than shedding water like a duck’s. Though this seems like a problem for a bird that spends its life in water, wet feathers probably make it easier for cormorants to hunt underwater with agility and speed.

  • In breeding colonies where the nests are placed on the ground, young cormorants leave their nests and congregate into groups with other youngsters (creches). They return to their own nests to be fed.

  • Accumulated fecal matter below nests can kill the nest trees. When this happens, the cormorants may move to a new area or they may simply shift to nesting on the ground.

  • The Double-crested Cormorant makes a bulky nest of sticks and other materials. It frequently picks up junk, such as rope, deflated balloons, fishnet, and plastic debris to incorporate into the nest. Parts of dead birds are commonly used too.

  • Large pebbles are occasionally found in cormorant nests, and the cormorants treat them as eggs.

  • The oldest known Double-crested Cormorant was at least 22 years, 6 months old; it was banded in Ontario in 1984 and found in Louisiana in 2006.

Virginia Rail

Print Friendly and PDF
Virginia rails seem to walk on water. Photo by Arlene Koziol

Virginia rails seem to walk on water. Photo by Arlene Koziol

“Secretive marsh birds” sounds like a church festival band or a clandestine middle school group. However, in nature, secretive marsh birds include rails and bitterns, where they dwell in wetland realms rarely breached by humans. Though the birds are not objectively secretive, they are indeed hard to spot from where humans stand.

Virginia rails provide a terrific look into the adaptations of marsh birds; the vocalizations alone seem like they could come from any number of species.  Its “k-k-k-kerrrrrr” trill sounds like the note of a spring peeper. Its “kiddick” call sounds like a malfunctioning dial-up internet connection. Its grunts are low, fuzzy, and accentuated by squeaks. 

This rail builds up to 30 dummy nests in a year, resembling the crazed paranoia of another marshland counterpart, the marsh wren.

If you have walked in a marsh where a Virginia rail has walked, you might be aware how maladapted humans are to these environments and you might gain respect for the Virginia rail. On floating mats at the edge of open water, we punch through; whereas Virginia rails stay upright with their light bodies and wide feet, probing on mudflats and floating mats of marsh. Where species like rice cutgrass, sedges, leatherleaf, stunted shrubs, and poison sumac might cause unholy irritation in humans, the Virginia rail’s laterally compressed body and tough forehead feathers allow it to scurry through wetland vegetation with ease. Anyone who has walked through a southern Wisconsin marsh has come to realize that rubber boots quickly become overtopped and the pure muscle and flexibility needed to high-step through a marsh builds up plenty of lactic acid. Here too, rails outclass us, with the highest ratio of leg muscles to flight muscles in birds, explaining their tenacity in marshes and their reluctant and haphazard flight.

Check out the giant feet on this Virginia rail chick! Photo by Mick Thompson

Check out the giant feet on this Virginia rail chick! Photo by Mick Thompson

Research has shown that Virginia rails can be quite discerning in terms of their habitat preferences. On average, wetlands dominated by the invasive reed canary grass make poor habitat for rails. With predators of their eggs like mink, otter, great horned owls, northern harriers, and even cranes and egrets, rails need a complex structural attributes in order to thrive. A monotype of reed canary grass, might be difficult to navigate even for a hardy Virginia rail, and this monotype lacks the diverse structure that allows for great feeding opportunities.

For instance, at the Laas Tamarack—where rails have been discovered breeding—a view from above shows the complex habitat that rails enjoy.

The Laas Tamarack is one of Faville Grove’s delightfully diverse habitats. Map created by Drew Harry

The Laas Tamarack is one of Faville Grove’s delightfully diverse habitats. Map created by Drew Harry

I’ve been through this area on foot, and it contains open water, floating mud flats, floating areas with dense cattails, elevated mounds of tussock sedges, elevated mounds from muskrat lodges, wet pockets of sedges and blue flag iris, hummocky areas of sphagnum moss, and willows, bog birch, and red osier dogwood.  This diversity of habitat provides good cover and foraging and nesting spots for a rail.

Blue flag iris, within the wetland complex at the Laas Tamarack. Photo by Drew Harry

Blue flag iris, within the wetland complex at the Laas Tamarack. Photo by Drew Harry

In addition, where the mean C-value is higher (which corresponds to high-quality vegetation), there tend to be more Virginia rails.

At Faville Grove, we strive to reduce the reed canary grass as much as possible, and our restoration plantings focus on biodiversity and often result in high mean C values. All of this makes good habitat for rails, and last year a Breeding Bird Atlas volunteer found an adult Virginia rail with its young in the sanctuary.

You might hear Virginia rails around dawn or dusk in any of the marshy spots around the sanctuary, but with high water levels, it’s even more difficult than usual to navigate these spots. Living up to its reputation as a secretive marsh bird, a Virginia rail sighting may remain elusive this year.