Cape Elizabeth birding report

One of the things I enjoy about bird watching is the year-round opportunity presented to reflect on my own appreciation of nature.

The joy of being pulled from my desk to the window by the irresistible two syllable jii-dit of a Ruby Crowned Kinglet and then catching a glimpse of this nervous little creature’s vermilion crown. Stepping outside on a bright, mild winter morning to be greeted by the cheery warbler of a rosy-red House Finch. Noticing the way the low-angled sun cast shadows on five crimson males and three female Northern Cardinals (including one leucitic bird) dining on black sunflower seeds. Or secretly witnessing a reunion of three red tailed hawk siblings, soaring high above the meadow where they had fledged and first learned to hunt back in May. It is during these brief winter moments in time that the distant warmth of spring does not seem so far off.

As for my own general observations, this was the first time in five years that I have seen a consistent stream of Northern Flickers passing through our yard patch, practically every day from early December through the first week of January.

Also, White-throated sparrows and Dark-eyed Juncos (referred to as ground feeders) numbers appear to be below average this season. One interesting theory that may explain this observation is that that the early snowstorm on December 17 and subsequent ground cover may have dispersed both of these species to move further south earlier.

Additionally, as January wore on winter finch sightings appeared to lose momentum. In contrast, during the last days of December irrupting female and immature male Pine Grosbeaks could be found in fruit and berry trees across town.

These heavy chested finches are grayish with tints of brilliant reddish-yellow and orange. Henry Thoreau referred to this bird’s tender song and dazzling beauty as “angels from the north.” Because small flocks of Grosbeaks move sluggishly through the trees it can be tricky to spot them, even when you are quite close. On one afternoon in late December I counted twenty-four Pine Grosbeaks foraging along the fringes of the middle school. In January, my only recorded sighting of Pine Grosbeaks was a pair on January 24.

Earlier in January I tracked down a previously reported Northern Shrike on the Libby River Farm Reserve in Scarborough. In most winters there are at least one or two Northern Shrike sighting in Cape. With a bold black mask and a toothlike spike on either side of the upper bill this “butcher of the north” is rare among songbirds given its appetite for small birds and mice. The Northern Shrikes haunts include uplands and sparsely wooded swamps. Typically, the best place to spy this stealthy hunter is on its watchtower (the top of some tall tree, pole or wire). Sitting upright like a bird of prey, the sharp-eyed butcher descends, attacking birds of the same size such as Robins and Blue Jays and often “preserving” its catch by suspending victims on a nail or between the fork of two branches.

Midway through January my wife, son and I were able to catch decent glimpses of two previously reported Short-eared Owls at the Portland Jetport. Short-eared owls are one of the most widely distributed owls in the world and can travel long distances over vast expanses of open ocean.

Lastly, on the night of January 22 along Bowery Beach Road I heard the repetitive whistle like toot and the harsher, rising screech of not one but two Northern Saw-whet owls.