I just completed this year’s Birdathon as the Corvid 23 Team, and in support of the Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory. You deserve to know about BPBO’s main activity – migration monitoring at Cabot Head. That is the subject of this post. The next post will be about my week at the research station in mid May, and my two Birdathon efforts.
Getting to BPBO’s Cabot Head Research Station.
Last year I lost the sight in my right eye two days before I was planning to drive nine hours to the Cabot Head Research Station, where BPBO operates its migration monitoring station. I had to cancel the trip, though I still tried to continue with birding and work, though both were compromised for a while. Fortunately, after two laser treatments to repair small tears in the retina, my sight returned to 100% in about a month though another month of floaters often confused me as distant birds. The day I actually did birdathon last year was the day of the “Derecho” – a wall of wind and rain that stretched for hundreds of kilometres and which ripped through the Outaouais, during the afternoon of birdathon!
This year, no health issues interfered with the drive from Gatineau to Cabot Head on Sunday May 14, and my plans to spend the dream migration week in south central Ontario at one of my favourite spots on earth.
The Research Station is located in the Cabot Head Nature Reserve; an Ontario Parks protected area of the highest level, due to both the research station and the incredibly rich and rare ecosystems and plant communities. I must acknowledge that the Nature Reserve and the peninsula itself are the traditional and unceded lands of the Saugeen Ojibway Nation, which includes the Saugeen First Nation and the Chippewas of Nawash Unceded First Nation. We are aware of this and always grateful for their stewardship of these lands since time immemorial.
The last 10 kilometres of road between the small community of Dyers Bay and Cabot Head are not for the faint of heart. Parts of this road, historically maintained by the municipality, cross private lands, adding uncertainty to the question of responsibility for maintenance. Fortunately, BPBO staff and volunteers have access, for which we are grateful. Once past the combination-locked gate, the ‘road’ hugs the eroding rocky shoreline that separates the heavily wooded east-facing scree slope of the Niagara Escarpment on one side from Georgian Bay on the other. During daylight, the pot-holed narrow road is scary enough, but as I arrived at dusk, shadows exaggerated the drop off the side of the road, its narrowness, the potholes, and the size of the beach stones scattered on its surface. High water levels a few years back eroded the shore to the very edge of the narrow road in many places, literally leaving it hanging. One moment of distraction and the car could roll off the road into the icy waters of Georgian Bay.
The last two kilometres to the station follow a potholed lane, flooded in places, branching off the road that continues to the Cabot Head Lighthouse. The lane circles a body of water known as Wingfield Basin; the last 200 metres along a heavily wooded narrow peninsula with the research station near the tip. The peninsula itself represents an ancient beach ridge along the coast separating 80 kilometres of Georgian Bay to the north from the tiny Wingfield Basin, which is approximately 500 metres wide. Water circulates in and out of the basin to Georgian Bay through a 90-metre opening. Wingfield Basin is the only safe harbour along the north part of the Bruce Peninsula between Tobermory on Lake Huron and Lion’s Head on the Georgian Bay side of the peninsula. Some days in the summer, the basin fills up with sailboats, their crews anxiously waiting out storms. Across the basin from the research station, is the Cabot Head lighthouse. The Lighthouse was decommissioned in the 1988, replaced by an automated light but the restored original buildings remain, though closed to public over the past few years.
Monday morning I awoke at 5H15 to help Stephane open the mist nets. Stephane, who has a PhD in Ornithology, started working for BPBO as Station Scientist in 2003. Returning each spring and fall like many of the birds that pass through here, suits his lifestyle well. He is superb at this work, meticulous, reliable, and skilled with the birds and at one with the solitude of the remote station. He publishes the BPBO blog post every week during spring and fall migration. His style of writing is entertaining and his posts always make an enjoyable read. Those of us who support BPBO are delighted that he is still with BPBO, and still enjoying the work by all accounts, 20 years after joining us.
How we monitor birds
Stephane oversees the migration monitoring operation, the main activity of BPBO. Watch this excellent TVO short video to meet Stephane and learn how the station operations, particularly how the bird banding part works. We follow standard protocols each day in the spring, between April 15 to June 10, and in the fall, from August 15 to November 1, to track populations of birds that pass through the station’s area. Each day, we determine the number of individuals of each species of bird, by three different sampling methods. One is by catching and banding birds using a series of 15 mist nets distributed over about 150 metres of forest and forest openings to intercept birds flying below three to four metres. We open the mist nets, which are 2.5 m high and 12 m long, 30 minutes before sunrise, keeping them open for 6 hours. Inclement weather such as wind or rain results in not opening or closing nets to reduce risks to birds. We check nets every 30 minutes, during which time any birds are removed and transported to the banding lab where they are processed (identified to species and sex, banded, measured, weighed, and released). A second method used is the census. The census is a fixed route, walked by one person who has a very good knowledge of birds and the ability to identify most species by sight and sound. The route is almost one kilometre and takes exactly one hour. Census starts one hour after sunrise and is carried out everyday regardless of the weather. The final method is called “casual observations.” Volunteers and staff at the station always have their binoculars with them and their ears tuned to the birds so that observations are added during and between net checks. Weather conditions and the number of birds in the nets influence how much effort can go towards “casual observations.” At the end of the day, numbers from all three methods are recorded to estimate the number of birds of each species present or passing through the research station’s coverage area.
As I mentioned, I awoke at 5:15 on Monday morning after about six solid hours of sleep in my narrow sleeping bag on the bottom for one of the two bunk beds in the volunteer bedroom. It was still fairly dark, cold and windy outside, not what I would consider a morning that favours migration. Together with Stephane, we managed to open the nets in less than 20 minutes, giving me time to sip some coffee before the first net check. To be continued . . . .
Please support the Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory (BPBO) by sponsoring my Corvid 23 Team in Birdathon 2023. In late May I will raise funds for BPBO through the Great Canadian Birdathon. I will do two birdathons, one while volunteering at BPBO’s Cabot Head station the week of May 15, and a second time from my home in Gatineau. Both will be motorless.
A few of us established BPBO in 2001, thanks to an agreement with Ontario Park to use their Cabot Head Nature Reserve. We grew to over 100 members and supporters in the next few years. We restored the two abandoned cottages. One became Grebe Lodge – for observatory guests, and the other Wingfield cottage, home for the Station scientist and long-term volunteers. In the past few years BPBO survived COVID, major challenges with aging infrastructure, and a washed-out access road. Plus we are no longer are connected to the electricity grid, giving us no choice but to “go solar.” We depend on a small team of observers, headed by our Station Scientist Dr. Stephane Menu, supported by volunteers who come from all ends of the earth to spend a week or a month to help monitor the migration. Your donation helps pay for their lodging and meals.
Learn more about BPBO here, and sign up for the regular blog by Stephane.
Please support my Corvid 23 team with a healthy donation. My wife and I donated $250 to my birdathon last year. Any amount you contribute is deeply appreciated! Birds Canada will issue you a tax receipt for donations over $15. Our goal is to raise $4000!
I will share a post about my birdathon here on my own blog.
Please use this link to get to the donation page: https://www.canadahelps.org/s/nDvRuY
Thank you, merci, gracias, obrigado, meegwetch!
Most of my life I’ve taken my good vision for granted. A trip to an optometrist a few years back reinforced my sense of vision invincibility when he quipped “many people would give a lot for your eyes.”
Earlier this winter, I had my first eye concern when I started getting flashes of light in the peripheral vision of my right eye. A trip to the optometrist revealed a tiny hole in the retina, the source of the flashes, that I would need to monitor closely. An appointment with an ophthalmologist was made for May. Over the next weeks, the flashes diminished and ended. Over three months later, I visited a retina specialist who confirmed that the injury healed over and everything looked healthy.
Three days after this visit everything changed. I had just finished leading a birding walk with friends and colleagues, and was returning to my bicycle when I noticed some floaters in the right eye. Now, I’ve had floaters in my eyes before, but this time was different. The floaters were increasingly obstructing vision in the right eye. In the 10 minute bike ride home, there were more and more waving filaments interfering with vision, some thickening or combining into dense globules with diffuse edges. Thirty minutes later, clarity of view was gone. It was like looking through a thickening screen. By the time the emergency doctor in Hull hospital examined me, about 90 minutes after onset of the first symptoms, I could no longer see my hand in front of my face.
I’ve learned much about eyes and ageing over the past two weeks. The vitreous humor – the jelly-like substance in the eye, gradually loses volume with ageing, sometimes causing the outside surface of the vitreous to dethatch from the retina. Occasionally, as a consequence of shrinking, the vitreous surface pulls a bit of the retina with it, creating a tear, and in a worst case, causing retina detachment.
My injury put an end to plans to drive 10 hours to Cabot Head Research Station on the Bruce Peninsula, spend a week helping Stephane, the Station Scientist, with migration monitoring, and do my birdathon 2022 at Cabot Head. Now I would need to discover what birding is like without use of my right eye.
While I was in the Emergency department of the Hull hospital, trying to figure out what was happening and what to do, I realized that I could see what was happening inside of my eye. Within the fog, I could see increasing density of thousands of tiny black round dots, swishing around the haze. Later I learn this was blood from a blood vessel that ruptured and bled into my eye. My eye filled with blood, or so the doctors told me. This prevented me from seeing out, but also them from seeing in. Doctors tested the pressure within my eye – because adding blood could increase the pressure to a dangerous level. Fortunately this was not the case with me.
Over the next six days I would have four ultrasounds of my eyeball. I didn’t even know ultra-sounding an eyeball is a “thing.” “That’s cool” I thought – can’t see the back of my eye because of all that blood in it, so the next best thing is to use a mini sonar to see the retina, not unlike searching for lake trout in the depths of Loon Lake.
This impaired vision has taught me a few things that I’ve taken for granted. One involves judging distances. When Cris drove me home from the hospital the first time, she pulled into our driveway beside our house. A bit irritated, I told her that she parked too close to the wall for me to open the door, and asked that she reposition the car. She laughed and said “just try.” I opened the door and discovered there was lots of room. Since, I’ve also knocked over a flower vase full of water, poked many things that I had judged as further or closer and came within millimeters of poking out my right eye while attempting to navigate through a brushy section of forest. Lesson to me – I suck at judging distances when I only can see from one eye and need to be more careful.
It also makes birding by vision really tough. As I was largely confined to our house and yard over the week that vision in my right eye was completely obstructed, I spent a fair bit of time in the backyard trying to identify birds for my yard list. I completed 10 ebird checklists over that period. But I learned how tough it is to locate a small bird high in the foliage of the trees in our yard with one functioning eye. Those darn warblers move so fast through the foliage! I know I missed many warblers, flitting through the early leafed-out foliage of the maples in our yard. Fortunately a beautiful pair of Great Crested Flycatchers have moved into the neighbourhood. They are a treat, perching out in the open and emphatically announcing their presence with a loud “RRRRIP” call.
Once the eye started clearing up and my vision started returning, though still quite impaired, I was shocked to learn that my right eye was no longer aligned with the left eye. My eyes were crossed and I had double vision. What a strange an uncomfortable feeling it was. Fortunately it didn’t last long. As the eye gradually cleared, to my relief, the double vision resolved itself. Now, nearly three weeks later, I’ve gone from zero to 100, or more like 90% of my vision has returned. The fog is pretty much gone though there is still a debris field which I imagine is the remains of a comet orbiting a tiny black hole in the middle of my eye. Now I can use both of my eyes to do my favourite pastime – observe birds.
The remaining frustration for birding is the innumerable floaters – from tiny specks by the hundreds or thousands, constantly swirling through my vision, complicated by large diffuse sweeping forms, not unlike drops of ink diffusing in water. Of course when watching the sky, I’ve learned the 95% of the time that I detect movement, disappointingly it is not a bird, but rather a floater in my peripheral vision.
Thank god for my hearing, which still serves me well, but may well be the subject of a blog post like this one in a few years.
My hearing identified most of the birds on my list for birdathon – which I did on May 20. Birdathon will be the subject of the next blog post.
Nous vous serions très reconnaissants de bien vouloir faire un don de bienfaisance pour soutenir le Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory – Observatoire d’oiseaux de la péninsule Bruce (BPBO) cette année. Je passerai une journée entière à observer autant d’oiseaux que possible afin de recueillir des fonds pour BPBO dans le cadre du Grand Birdathon canadien. Cliquez ici pour accéder directement à ma page de dons.
Moi, j’habite Gatineau depuis 2006, et je suis active dans le Club des Ornithologues de l’Outaouais. Mais mes efforts sont pour appuyer le Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory, qui fait du travail formidable sur le suivi des migrations et pour la conservation des oiseaux.
Permettez-moi de vous parler de BPBO (Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory) l’observatoire d’oiseaux de la péninsule Bruce, un petit coin de l’Ontario avec une richesse de biodiversité sans égale. Je faisais partie d’un petit groupe des gens qui ont fondé BPBO en 2001, établissant une station de recherche dans la réserve naturelle de Cabot Head du parc de l’Ontario pour suivre les migrations printanières et automnales depuis. L’observatoire a un côté français. Dupuis 18 ans notre gestionnaire de la station est Dr. Stéphane Menu. Stéphane est français, mais il a fait son doctorat à l’Université de Laval sur les Oies des neiges dans l’arctique canadien. Souvent, il y a des bénévoles pour nous aider avec les suivis, venant du Québec.
Plus que jamais, le birdathon est devenu une source de financement incontournable. L’an dernier, notre équipe a soulevé plus que 5000 $ dont 4000 $ sont allés à BPBO. Ensemble nous pouvons atteindre ce montant cette année. Avec votre généreux soutien, c’est possible.
S’il vous plaît, faites un don à BPBO si vous êtes un partisan de BPBO, si c’est simplement que vous aimez les oiseaux ou le Bruce, ou si vous me connaissez, et combien cela signifie pour moi. J’ai moi-même fait don de 100 $.
Laissez-moi vous parler un peu de la journée. Je ferai un compte rendu détaillé de ma journée ici, sur mon propre blogue https://birdingfromthebalcony.ca/. Cette année, j’espère faire mon birdathon dans les alentours de Cabot Head où je serai bénévole pour le programme de surveillance de la migration entre le 16 et le 21 mai. Cela sera un birdathon “vert” pour moi, soi a pied ou a bicyclette. J’espere que Stephane peut me donner un coup de main a trouver des oiseaux.
Aidez-moi à soulever 5 000 $ pour la conservation des oiseaux. Nous pouvons y arriver, mais uniquement avec votre généreux soutien. Oiseaux Canada vous émettra un reçu d’impôt pour les dons de plus de 15 $.
S’il vous plaît, donnez généreusement à mon birdathon pour BPBO cette année. Utilisez ce lien pour accéder à la page de don: https://www.canadahelps.org/s/FjNst
Je fournirai des mises à jour en direct de mes progrès sur mes pages Facebook et Instagram.
Merci d’avance!
Ted
Dear Friend,
We would be so grateful if you would make a charitable donation to support the Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory (BPBO) this year. I will be spending an entire day observing as many birds as possible to raise funds for BPBO through the Great Canadian Birdathon. This year, I hope to do my birdathon around BPBO’s migration monitoring station at Cabot Head where I will be volunteering for the migration monitoring program later in May. Click here to go directly to my support page.
Let me tell you about Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory. A few of us who loved the upper Bruce and especially the Cabot Head area, founded BPBO in 2001, establishing a research station on Ontario Park’s Cabot Head Nature Reserve to track the spring and fall migrations which we’ve done ever since. As I described last year, BPBO is facing many logistical and financial challenges. Some things are getting fixed, and fortunately our dependable Station Scientist Stephane, is back again to run the migration monitoring program. As in the past two years, our ability to raise funds through the rental of our research station property between spring and fall has been compromised. We still need to increase our solar energy capacity to assure a reliable energy source. Birdathon has become a key source of funding. In 2021, thanks to your generosity, we raised over $5000, of which over $4000 went to BPBO. This is outstanding and gives us an ambitious target which we can achieve together.
Please donate to my Corvid 22 BPBO team if you are a BPBO supporter, if you just love birds or the Bruce, or if you know me, and how much this means to me. Again, I donated $100 myself. It would be amazing if you could match or surpass my donation and help BPBO survive and thrive.
Let me tell you a bit about the day. I will share a post about my birdathon here on my own blog https://birdingfromthebalcony.ca/. I put a lot of energy into the birdathon, but it’s green energy. I’ll only be travelling by foot or bicycle. Typically I start around 4 am and go until it’s too dark to see. I plan to spend much of the morning at Cabot Head, then ride my bike perhaps as far as Crane lake. I hope to see hundreds of species, but will be lucky probably to observe 100.
Please give generously to my birdathon for BPBO this year. Birds Canada will issue you a tax receipt for donations over $15. Use this link to get to the donation page: https://www.canadahelps.org/s/FjNst
I will provide live updates on my progress on my Facebook and Instagram pages and give the full account on my blog.
Thank you in advance!
Ted
The last post about the joy of birding from the place where I live was April 22, 2021. Twelve months later, and 16 months into our house on the street named after the Goldfinch tells me that an update blog post is overdue to say the least. I say that with a modicum of shame. Last year, in a rash move to commit more time to writing in my blog, I purchased a two-year subscription with Word Press, with some fancy updates as well as a subscription in Master Class. My wife raised an eyebrow when I told her about this, but I was determined to write more, and improve my story telling. “So how’s that been?” someone might sarcastically ask me today, and rightly so. It’s sucked – no way around it. Zero posts since my birdathon post last May, which I do not really count as a post. No excuses.
That’s not to say I haven’t found time to bird since mid-April last year. I have indeed. It turns out birding is easier, and more fun than writing. Anyway, returning to subject of birding from our new house, the options here are more pleasant than our previous apartment, as charming as it was. Here we have a lovely backyard, three mature trees, copious seed-bearing perennials and wildflowers, and an amazing neighbourhood with over 40% forest cover that I describe in the previous post here.
I enjoy the thought of being able to observe 100 species within a calendar year from my own yard. That seems like a decent target that requires a commitment of time and maintenance of my bird identification skills. In the 10 years that I kept records from rue Boucherville, I hit or surpassed 100 species three times: 100 in 2016, 102 in 2019, and 112 in 2020. Therefore, I was very curious to know what the new house would offer.
We spent the first couple of months in our new abode fixing things and moving in, hence there was little time for birding. By mid April I was able to enjoy the yard more and grow the bird list. By the end of April, I had observed 52 species, and by the end of May, an impressive 94 species. Not even five months and nearly 100 species! We had moved into bird heaven no less, it appeared. I figured that, even without any luck, I could easily challenge the mega year of 112 species at rue Boucherville.
Birding in May had many highlights. One was a flock of 85 Brant flying over the house on May 16th. Like so many species, I heard them first, then spotted a long line of Brant flying from east to west. Brant have a distinctive cackling call that sounds a bit like barnyard geese. In Gatineau and Ottawa, Brant are a regular treat each year, passing through for a few days on their migration between the Atlantic Ocean and the Arctic where they breed. I’ve learned in the last few years that one needs to be alert and outside in mid to late May to notice this ephemeral migrant pass through the region. On the 19th I heard a Wood Thrush’s ethereal song from the nearby forest. The same day, a Bobolink announced its presence as it flew high over our neighbourhood. Lucky for me, I happened to be listening and detected its distinctive flight call. Both of these species are species at risk, so hearing them is both a treat and an alert to their plight. Knowing the songs and call notes is one of the keys to identifying a large number of species from a house or a yard, as often one doesn’t see the bird. Of course it doesn’t matter how good your identification skills are if you don’t put in the hours outside or listening from an open window. Fortunately, for me, I was also outside listening when an Eastern Bluebird, a Killdeer and a Common Loon vocalized while flying over, on their way somewhere to the north of us.
In June, another highlight came from the nest box attached to the garden shed. A pair of Black-capped Chickadees took up occupancy in early May. In mid-June, their nest fledged all six young! Congratulations Chickadee family! This same nest box fledged young on our balcony on Boucherville in 2020. Certainly, it must be a good house for Chickadees! I watched the adults collecting food on several occasions. Sometimes there were only three to five minutes between feedings and other times over 20 minutes. The Chickadees were so good at gleaning caterpillars and other arthropods from the foliage, trees and shrubs in our yard. Based on my observations, I calculated that the pair consumed 15,000 caterpillars by the time their chicks fledged. One nesting pair of Chickadees = healthy trees!
On June 10, a Yellow-billed Cuckoo wandered into our yard, announcing itself with a loud song and then was gone just as quickly. The abundance of Tent Caterpillars and Gypsy Moth caterpillars undoubtedly fed many Cuckoo nestlings in the Outaouais in 2021.
On June 18, I observed the 98th species, a Common Yellowthroat, likely a young wandering male, heard singing from the nearby forest. After that, remarkably, I only observed three more species: one in July, one in August, and the last, a Red-tailed Hawk, on October 5, for 101 species in 2021 from my house and yard. The lesson is within this a very appropriate axiom involving birds: don’t count your chickens before the eggs hatch.
Notes on adding habitat for birds
In the fall, we installed a triple bird feeder that sits atop a three-metre metal pole, secured to the back of the deck. After some trial and error, we added an effective squirrel deterrent that involves two slinkies and weekly applications of vegetable oil. The feeders include a peanut feeder for the Jays, a sunflower (shelled) feeder that is a hit with Goldfinches, Pine Siskins, Common Redpolls and a few Hoary Redpolls, Black-capped Chickadees and White-breasted Nuthatches, and a nyger feeder that gets the least traffic. At least one of the resident Chickadees always stops to peck at the nyger feeder first.
The Jays are always interesting characters to watch. One of the unusual behaviours that we have observed, that adds some validity to the idea that animals cooperate with each other, involves at least one Jay regularly throwing one or more peanuts in the shell to the deck below (sometimes three or four) before taking one or two. Sometimes the Gray Squirrels are standing on their back legs, looking longingly up at the feeder with the big Blue Jays, and occasionally they get rewarded.
We also have a suet feeder and water containers. The suet feeder was eventually discovered by the big guy, who visited regularly through the winter to feast on wild grapes growing amongst the tree branches in the back of our yard.
We made the sliding glass doors onto the deck safe (they are only about 4 or 5 m from the feeders), by hanging strings on wool, weighted by wine corks, as well as some feather-friendly tape markings. I am 100% sure that this has prevented many collisions. Everyone should take a few minutes to save bird lives in this way. Solutions can be simple like ours. Birds don’t see glass, just the reflections, or what’s on the other side.
Did you know that there are 30% fewer birds in North America now then there were 50 years ago? Human actions are behind the population drop. Human actions must also drive the recovery. Birds need our help. We can’t wait for someone else to do it. One way of helping is through a generous donation to the Great Canadian Birdathon. If you have not already supported me, I humbly request your generosity and support this year. As I write this account, the CORVID-21 team has raised $3,470. With you support, we can make it to the magic $5,000! Please click on this link to go to the support page if you have not already done so.
The Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory (BPBO), a nonprofit charity, does much to help save bird lives. BPBO’s work includes excellent science to track bird populations over time, training of young ornithologists to become passionate bird advocates, and standing up for birds on the Bruce Peninsula, an important migration corridor in Ontario and one of the most unique landscapes in Southern Canada.
Your support for my birdathon means so much for BPBO. It’s been an extremely tough year for BPBO due to COVID, the extremely high water levels that washed out the road into the research station, and damage to the electrical lines coming into the station. Your support will help us reach our goal of doubling our solar energy capacity so that we can operate our migration monitoring station without interruption.
Let me tell you about my birdathons. Yes, it is plural. I took a couple days off work, to do two birdathons. Thursday, May 20, I spent several hours on my bicycle doing reconnaissance of my new area. It is always worthwhile to scout an area prior to the “big day” as many of the birds, especially the territorial ones can be relocated the next day, and make a big day more efficient. As we moved into our new neighbourhood in January, a few kilometres to the west of where we had lived for the last decade, I didn’t know the surroundings that well, particularly the large forest near our new house. The new neighbourhood is very forested. Local birders call the nearby forest “la Foret Chantegrives” or “Thrush Song Woods,” and according to a 1930 map the entire area was a bird sanctuary at one time. Now the subdivision streets, including our own, have bird names bearing testament to this sanctuary. As is often the case with housing developments, streets are named after some nature feature that was destroyed when the land was cleared. Fortunately some of that natural features are still intact and functioning nicely. A sign of this during reconnaissance on Thursday, was that I located 57 species in less than two hours in my neighbourhood, boding well for birdathon Friday.
Friday:
The winds had turned to southerlies on Thursday, bringing in some new species while allowing others to migrate north. A few Robins were already singing as I stepped out the back door onto the deck at 4:10 am. My bike was ready as I saddled up and I rode along the dark streets and bike trails into Gatineau Park. My hope was to hear owls before sunrise. Though that didn’t happen, I did hear an American Woodcock’s courtship flight display in the south end of the Park. Male Woodcocks perform an amazing dusk and pre-dawn flight filled with strange whirring and twittering sounds made by a combination of their voices and wings. As day broke, I quickly added many other species, including an enchanting chorus of Hermit Thrushes – who have, without doubt, one of the most beautiful voices in nature. After an hour of building a good initial list of songbirds, I returned home for a quick breakfast. A Yellow-bellied Flycatcher was a delightful find from my deck as I sipped my coffee. La Foret Chantegrives was quite productive (though fewer species than the day before), with Wood Thrush in good numbers, as well as a few Veerys and a Swainson’s Thrush. I cycled south to the Ottawa River, where I observed several new species including a spectacular Great Egret, many Hooded Mergansers, Tree Swallows, Baltimore Orioles and Warbling Vireos.
Heading east, I encountered the only Common Ravens observed that day. You couldn’t miss them on the bike path which went directly under their conspicuous and foul-smelling nest beneath the Champlain Bridge. At Brebeuf Park, looking onto the Ottawa River where a rapid separates the mainland from a large flat rock, to my delight, I spotted severak Black-belled Plovers, Semipalmated Plovers, Least Sandpipers and an American Pipit.
My last stop along the river was a lookout behind the campus of the Université du Quebec en Outaouais. Atop the limestone cliffs, I had a perfect view of some of the seabird colonies on small islands in the Ottawa River. In addition to hundreds of Ring-billed Gull, Double-crested Cormorants, and a few Black-crowned Night Herons, I found the one “boss” Herring Gull, nesting at the very top of the island. All of the smaller Ring-billed Gulls appeared to be relegated to lower areas, some of which are vulnerable to flooding.
By the time I arrived home before noon, I was up to 83 species. Most birders consider mid-afternoon as the “dead zone” because bird activity such as singing and feeding seems to stop for a few hours. It is tough to find new species at that time. I took advantage by taking a short break to eat, rest and review my list of species to determine what was missing. Late afternoon, I rallied my energy and headed out on a mission to find some of the missing species. It was tough going, but I did find three new birds, two that I had found from my reconnaissance the previous day: Ruby-throated Hummingbird and Chimney Swift, and an Indigo Bunting, always a delight. I ended up with 86 species, three more than the previous year and very satisfying.
Sunday
Two days later, the weather was not as I had hoped. A cold front came in with wind, which makes birding challenging because of the noise created by wind in the leaves. I recognize a high percentage of the birds that I am able to identify by their songs and calls so I was at a disadvantage from the start. Despite the wind, I followed essentially the same route as Thursday, leaving the house shortly after 4 am, and heading into Gatineau Park by bike. My straining ears did detect a faint “peent” call note of a Woodcock at the same place I had the species on Friday. About an hour later, I heard the deep cooing of a Yellow-billed Cuckoo, which was a nice surprise on top of the array of Thrushes and other birds. After about an hour of birding, I returned home for a quick breakfast. There were fewer birds singing, and much more background noise from the trees. I was convinced that birding would be more challenging this day.
A friend joined me for the next several hours, as we biked through la Forest Chantegrives to the Ottawa River, picking up some of the species that I had heard there two days earlier. At the Ottawa River, there was no Egret, but there were several good finds. We spotted a well-hidden American Coot by a beaver lodge on the river, a beautiful Northern Pintail dabbling with some Mallards by the Champlain Bridge, some agile Common Terns fishing on the other side of the River, and a Solitary Sandpiper proving that whoever named the species really got it right. The cold air also brought the Chimney Swifts to the river. Two days earlier, I fought hard to find two swifts. On Sunday, there were hundreds foraging above the River.
When we returned home for lunch I was up to 84 species! At 11h30, I was ready to take a break for lunch, and did this short update video. https://youtu.be/7PkcuzH2wcc
I went solo in the afternoon, walking some of the route I had done by bicycle, again through the Bois des Grives. I worked hard to find a few of the Blackburnian Warblers that breed in the Corridor Champlain, about 1 kilometre from my house as the Raven flies. I watched for nearly 30 minutes on a lookout with a view over the southern hills in Gatineau Park before spotting two Turkey Vultures, that were invisible without binoculars. Turkey Vulture was a species that eluded me on Thursday. The last species observed was from home. I looked to the skies with a glass of wine in hand just as the sun was setting. Three Rough-winged Swallows winged their way northward high above our house, rounding the daily total up to 88 species.
Combined over the two birdathon days, I observed 102 species. There were four species observed during my reconnaissance day that I didn’t find on either birdathon. This knowledge drives my determination (some might say obsession) to find more species the next year. Can I crack the magic 100 species total in one day, within a three km radius of my house before my own faculties give out? Probably not, but I will try, and definitely have fun in so doing.
Thank you for enduring my accounts and especially for your generosity in helping bird conservation in general, and the very deserving Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory in particular. As I explained in one of the videos, in the past, there was a strong incentive to observe as many species as possible during birdathon, as many people would sponsor me a certain amount per species. Now, that birdathon is organized by an automated donation system that only has a flat rate option, there might appear to be less incentive to work hard to observe birds. I have not given in and softened my approach. I hope you can tell from the account that I do work hard to try and find as many species as possible. I do this because I love it, it is fun, and I want to demonstrate my commitment to this cause. The BPBO Board of Directors, the large BPBO family, and myself are extremely grateful for your support!
Again, here is the link to support my team and BPBO.
Thank you/Merci/Gracias/Obrigado,
Ted
Nous vous serions très reconnaissants de bien vouloir faire un don de bienfaisance pour soutenir le petit mais puissant Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory – Observatoire d’oiseaux de la péninsule Bruce (BPBO) cette année. Pour la 20e fois environ, je passerai une journée entière à observer autant d’oiseaux que possible afin de recueillir des fonds pour BPBO dans le cadre du Grand Birdathon canadien. En fait, j’en ferai deux fois. La première fois a déjà a eu lieu – c’était hier, vendredi le 21 mai. La deuxième fois – c’est demain, le 23 mai. Cliquez ici pour accéder directement à ma page d’assistance.
Moi, j’habite Gatineau depuis 2006, et je suis active dans le Club des Ornithologues de l’Outaouais. Mais mes efforts sont pour appuyer le Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory, qui fait du travail formidable sur le suivi des migrations et pour la conservation des oiseaux.
Permettez-moi de vous parler de BPBO (Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory) l’observatoire d’oiseaux de la péninsule Bruce. Je faisais partie d’un petit groupe des gens qui ont fondé BPBO en 2001, établissant une station de recherche dans la réserve naturelle de Cabot Head du parc de l’Ontario pour suivre les migrations printanières et automnales depuis. L’observatoire a un côté français. Dupuis 15 ans notre gestionnaire de la station est Dr. Stéphane Menu. Stéphane est Français, mais il a fait son doctorat à l’Université de Laval sur les Oies des neiges dans l’arctique canadien. Souvent, il y a des bénévoles pour nous aider avec les suivis, venant du Québec.
BPBO fait face à une autre année extrêmement difficile sur le plan financier. Encore une fois cette année, notre capacité à recueillir des fonds en louant les bâtiments entre les périodes de migrations du printemps et l’automne a été compromise à cause de COVID et aussi parce que la route menant à la station a été endommagée par le niveau très élevé du lac Huron. Pour ajouter l’insulte aux blessures, nous avons récemment appris qu’il n’y a plus de connexion électrique entre notre station et le réseau ontarien et que cette connexion ne sera pas rétablie. Cela signifie que nous devons doubler notre capacité d’énergie solaire pour assurer une source d’énergie fiable (doubler la taille des panneaux et doubler les batteries de stockage). Plus que jamais, le birdathon est devenu une source de financement incontournable. L’an dernier, j’ai soulevé 4 000 $, dont 3 000 $ sont allés à BPBO. Je veux surpasser ce montant cette année, et avec votre généreux soutien, c’est possible.
S’il vous plaît, faites un don à BPBO si vous êtes un partisan régulier de BPBO, si c’est simplement que vous aimez les oiseaux ou le Bruce, ou si vous me connaissez, et combien cela signifie pour moi. J’ai moi-même fait don de 100 $. Ce serait incroyable si vous pouviez égaler mon don et aider BPBO à survivre à une autre année inoubliable.
Laissez-moi vous parler un peu de la journée. Je partagerai un article sur mon birdathon sur mon propre blogue https://birdingfromthebalcony.ca/où cette demande est également publiée. Mon birdathon dure 16 heures, de 4 h à 20 h. Je reste à moins de 3 km de notre nouvelle maison à Gatineau et je voyage uniquement à pied ou à vélo. L’année dernière, j’ai observé 83 espèces les deux jours. Hier j’ai observé 86 espèces. Mon objectif demain est d’atteindre ou de surpasser ce total.
Aidez-moi à soulever 5 000 $ pour la conservation des oiseaux. Nous pouvons y arriver, mais uniquement avec votre généreux soutien. Oiseaux Canada vous émettra un reçu d’impôt pour les dons de plus de 15 $.
S’il vous plaît, donnez généreusement à mon birdathon pour BPBO cette année. Utilisez ce lien pour accéder à la page de don: https://www.canadahelps.org/s/FjNst
Je fournirai des mises à jour en direct de mes progrès sur mes pages Facebook et Instagram.
Merci d’avance!
Ted
Dear Friend,
We would be so grateful if you would make a charitable donation to support the small but mighty Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory (BPBO) this year. For the 20th or so time, I will be spending an entire day observing as many birds as possible to raise funds for BPBO through the Great Canadian Birdathon. In fact, I will do birdathon twice – first during the week of May 17 and secondly on either Sunday or Monday of the Victoria Day weekend a few days later. Click here to go directly to my support page.
Let me tell you about Bruce Peninsula Bird Observatory. A few of us who loved the upper Bruce and especially the Cabot Head area, founded BPBO in 2001, establishing a research station on Ontario Park’s Cabot Head Nature Reserve to track the spring and fall migrations ever since. BPBO is facing another extremely tough year financially. Again this year, our ability to raise funds through the rental of our research station property between spring and fall has been compromised because of Covid, and the damaged road to the station. To add insult to injury, we recently learned that there is no longer an electrical connection from Cabot Head to the Ontario grid, and that that connection will not be re-established. That means we must double our solar energy capacity to assure a reliable energy source (doubling the size of the panels and doubling the storage batteries). More than ever, birdathon has become a key source of funding. Last year, your support enabled me to raise $4000, of which over $3000 went to BPBO. I want to surpass that amount this year, and with your generous support, that is possible.
Please donate to BPBO if you are a regular BPBO supporter, if you just love birds or the Bruce, or if you know me, and how much this means to me. I donated $100 myself. It would be amazing if you could match my donation and help BPBO survive another unforgettable year.
Let me tell you a bit about the day. I will share a post about my birdathon on my own blog https://birdingfromthebalcony.ca/ where this request is also posted. My birdathon is 18 hours long, from 4 am to 10 pm. I stay within 3 km of our new house in Gatineau and only travel by foot or bicycle. Last year I observed 83 species both days. My goal is to meet or surpass this total this year.
My goal is ambitious – to raise $5,000 total, of which $4,000 will flow to BPBO. We can get there but only with your generous support. Birds Canada will issue you a tax receipt for donations over $15.
Please give generously to my birdathon for BPBO this year. Use this link to get to the donation page: https://www.canadahelps.org/s/FjNst
I will provide live updates on my progress on my Facebook and Instagram pages.
Thank you in advance!
Ted
Fittingly, the first bird species I observed on January 4, the day we took possession of our new house, was an American Goldfinch. We now live on rue des Chardonnerets, (Goldfinch in French). If you read some earlier post you will be familiar with Golden Goldie, and understand the significance.
We moved gradually over the month, not passing our first night in the new house until January 31, the date when we had to be out of the old apartment, where we lived for the past 10 years, and the location of Birding from the Balcony. Our new house was in very good condition when we purchased it, but there were still minor renovations to do that take time. For example, removing a wall, no matter how small, triggers work to fix ceilings and floors. Removing a “popcorn” ceiling can, and did, lead to re-plastering an entire new ceiling. Several rooms needed painting, and then there was that strange drainage pipe from the air conditioner, hanging limply on my new office wall. I had to hide it.
So, the only birding in January was done while travelling five metres from the car to the front door with loaded arms, and February was not much better as the renovations continued for most of the month. Now we are in April, and I am finally taking advantage of the wonderful deck and backyard, where I can contemplate how true it is that work on a house never ends while trying to listen and watch for birds.
First a deserved ode to our Boucherville apartment. It was such a good location for birding. Over the 10 years of tenancy I observed 151 species from inside or on the balcony. As for the “big year yard list,” I am certain that I will never get close to the number of species I observed while Birding from the Balcony on Boucherville, in 2020. One hundred and twelve species is an impressive number for one year, but it was an incredible location under perfect circumstance. I say that fully aware that the pandemic made a major contribution to what I am calling perfect circumstances.
In reviewing my bird list from 2020, I noted about 20 species that I have little to no chance of observing from the new address. This was the effect of the Ottawa River. From our apartment, especially the balcony, there were vantage points to see birds flying above the Ottawa River (about 700 metres away). These included waterfowl, gulls, cormorants, herons, swallows and some raptors that follow the river like Osprey and Bald Eagle. I could see this all from my perch on the balcony with my binoculars or my 20 X 60 scope aimed at one of the two openings in the trees and buildings where I could see a section of sky just above the river. Then there was that narrow strip of Gatineau Park on opposite (east) side of the house from the balcony, with enough height to be at canopy level, offering a perfect view of migrating warblers and other songbirds moving through the treetops. On the north side were our neighbour’s four tall white spruce trees that acted like magnets to warblers, nuthatches and finches. Windows on all four sides of the house let in the sound, meaning that many times I was able to identify birds inside the house by hearing their songs.
Last year I had more time to bird as I worked at home from most of the year due to the Pandemic, which also made the city much quieter, especially in the spring when much of Canada was locked-down. The species exemplifying how quiet the city was for me, is American Woodcock. Woodcocks were displaying about 400 m. from our balcony and I was able to hear the twittering of the courtship flight on two different occasions! All of these factors combined to make last year exceptionally good for observing birds from our apartment.
Our new house has no balcony, but it does have a yard and a deck. The river is 1.3 km away with a forest between the river and us. Our house is within 75 metres of the forest edge. The many mature trees between houses make our yards a functional extension of the forest for bird species. I expect the forest bird observations will be good here!
One of the first things I did in our yard to attract birds was to install feeders. It took a few days after filling sunflower, suet, nyger and peanut feeders, but eventually the local band of Chickadees discovered the sunflower seeds and the Blue Jays discovered the peanuts. Cris loves the jays. One day, a bit before her birthday, but maybe as an early present to her, the Jays held a wild party for the party she couldn’t have due to Covid-19. We were blown away.
Ten days after the feeders were installed, the Eastern Gray Squirrels discovered them. My ‘system’ to discourage squirrels turned out to be a joke for them, not delaying access to the feeders by a second. After fruitless attempts to discourage and chase them away, and their increasing habit of knocking down the suet, peanut and sunflower feeders, we gave up on all but the Nyger feeder that didn’t interest them. Unfortunately, the Nyger feeder has not interested anyone, as even the local flocks of Goldfinches and Redpolls have snubbed us.
Fortunately the Jays and us have figured it out. I put a handful of nuts out early in the morning, then call the Jays with my Sibley app. They appear within a minute or two and empty the feeder before the squirrels have wiped the sleep from their eyes. It’s working like a charm to the delight of the new residents of this house.
We are working to keep the cats out of our yard. The previous owners had two outdoor cats that likely terrorized the local birds. These cats likely attracted other cats into the yard. I am trying to change our yard from cat central to no go zone for cats. We put up a snow fence in early February across the back of the property, to make it tougher for cats travelling through the yard to have easy egress and ingress. It definitely helped. I’ve also chased a few cats and placed an ultrasonic “cat deterrent” in a strategic location. All of this has reduced visits significantly, but there is much work to do.
There have been few bird “highlights” so far. But I have enjoyed many flocks of Bohemian Waxwings and a few groups of Cedar Waxwings flying over or landing in the tree in our yard. Redpolls have been around the neighbourhood since we moved in, and one day some Red Crossbills flew over the house. In March, the first early spring migrants started showing up around the 13th with a bigger push after the 21st – the official first day of spring. That day and the 23rd, I observed the first Canada Geese, Ring-billed Gulls, Common Grackles and Song Sparrows. By the end of March I had observed just over 30 species for the year. Now, over half way through April, I am at 40 species.
One characteristic of our subdivision is that most of the streets have bird names (en Français). In addition to Chardonneret, there is Paruline, Gaie bleue, Sitelle, Mésange, Tourterelle, Huard, Perdrix, Cormorant, Bruant, Pinson, Colibri, Carouge, Épervier, Cygne and Heron. If ever a neighbourhood should become bird friendly, it is this one!
The neighbourhood or “sector” as it is called in Québec, is “Manoir des Trembles” which would be translated as Poplar manor, but for some reason is called Birch manor on some maps. Avenue des Trembles is one of the main streets crossing through the subdivision. Our street connects with it, but on the opposite side of Trembles is Rue Épervier. An Epervier is an accipiter – the small family of hawks that specialize in catching birds. In late February, as I stepped out of the car around 5:30 pm, just as it was getting dark, I noticed a lump in a tree at the junction of Épervier and Trembles. Of course, it was an Épervier brun – Sharp-shinned Hawk. Who ever named these streets, knows lots about birds!
birdingfromthebalcony 