Cape Elizabeth birding report

This is most certainly a complicated time but one thing that keeps many of us centered and hopeful is the birds all around us. Seemingly unaffected by the tremendous human ordeal around them, many birds are on the move as we head towards, and officially cross the vernal equinox threshold into the kingdom of spring across the northern hemisphere.

A few noteworthy observations from the first two weeks of March include a single Golden-crowned Kinglet spied within the tangles just above the intertidal zone along Pond Cove on March 5 (birders designate this as first of year “FOY”) and an American Woodcock was heard in the marshlands behind the high school on March 7. The following day while riding my bike in Gull Crest I flushed a second “mudsnipe” at very close range. Additionally, on more than one evening I could hear the cries of Killdeer across the starry Cape Elizabeth sky. Of the plover family, Killdeer are partial migrants, and in these parts, they are known as leap frog migrants because rather than compete for food and space with year round residents inhabiting the southern half of the U.S., they will fly from the tropics over the southern states and head straight to more northerly spring locales.

Late in the afternoon on March 15 while wandering in Robinson Woods I, a Barred owl was heard.

Solitary calls from a male in early spring (and during daylight hours) probably mean that this owl has not attracted a mate yet. On a related note in the early morning hours of March 29 I heard the owl call again. On a somewhat related note I recently read that Harriet Tubman used her own call of a Barred owl to alert and guide her northbound followers.

With many of southern Maine’s coastal state parks and beaches closed to thwart overcrowding and potential spread of CO-VID-19 this is indeed a challenging time. We are however fortunate to be able to retreat to many of our forests, fields, ponds and natural spaces. Local “patch” birding, aka birding in one’s backyard or neighborhood is not to be overlooked this spring either.

Nagging northerly winds in the third week of March slowed down travel plans for many passerines however the first wave of the deluge included solid numbers of Song Sparrows arriving across Cape Elizabeth. On one day I counted nearly twenty Song Sparrows on my lawn mixed in with White-throated sparrows and more than a couple boisterous Dark-eyed Juncos.

On the 21st, a mouse-like creature was seen scampering through the upturned roots and decaying logs along a streams edge. Quick as a flash, the creature in question exposed itself for just long enough to expose its secret. A first of the year Winter Wren! This rather absurd little forest nymph with a stubby little tail turned up over its hind quarters is a real treasure to glimpse as it shucks and jives along woodland brooks and creeps in and out of knotholes and brush piles. On a related note, per unit weight, the Winter Wren delivers its mating song with ten times more power than a crowing rooster.

Furthermore, on the same day and on the 29th as well, a single female Purple Finch showed up on our backyard feeders. Although not technically purple in coloring, Audubon describes them as an “old-rose color.” Typically, during the winter months, we are visited by male and female Purple Finches. This past winter I did not see a single one of these small forest birds. One reason sited for these birds being less numerous (at least with backyard sightings) is the increase in the more aggressive House Finch, which drive the Purple Finches deeper into our forests. On the 22nd my wife spotted a stunningly handsome Wood duck couple on the pond in Robinson Woods.

The strong northwest winds briefly turned southerly in the last couple days of March allowing better travelling conditions for some. Noteworthy mentionings include, on March 28 two Great Blue Herons at sunset migrating so high above our house that they were barely visible even with binoculars and on the 29th, First of Year Eastern Phoebe’s showed up in Robinson woods along the pond. From the eastern flycatcher family their raspy “phoebe” call embodies the arrival of spring. While observing these flycatchers an adult Bald eagle flew in and sat majestically atop an ancient snag overlooking the pond and the ocean beyond.

Whether you go out alone or with family, spring migration has begun and there is no better time to get out there and explore.