Local birding report

The last several weeks of January brought both mild temperatures and our first significant snowfall of the year. On January 13 I observed two lingering male Belted Kingfishers, one at the Spurwink River Crossing perched on a high snag and a second one along the portion of Sawyer Road that traverses the Spurwink Marsh. Small numbers of Kingfishers will stick around as coastal winter residents, only moving further south if available estuary streams and open bodies of water freeze over. The larger percentage of Kingfishers have already departed for more southernly haunts. Migrating Kingfishers travel solo and do not aggregate into flocks like many other bird species. Additionally, it is the males that typically travels shorter distances to migrate than the females.

Other mentionings from both the field and yard include my only winter finch sighting of the month on January 13, a single Pine Siskin that showed up to our thistle feeder amongst a company of American Goldfinches. These zippy boreal finches are slightly smaller than Goldfinches and have bold streaking on their breast and back. Additionally, Goldfinches in their winter plumage lack the subtle yellow edging on the wings and tail that Pine Siskins have. Unfortunately, these birds are in steep decline, having lost a cumulative 69% of its population between 1966 and 2019.

Additionally, on January 22 my wife alerted me to a thrush in the lower wet area of our property. When I caught up with the bird it was perched contently high up in a tangle of Multiflora Rose and Greenbrair bushes which overhangs a small but currently active stream. A good tangle of invasives near a stream is always an ideal spot from a Hermit Thrush’s perspective. From these wet thickets the bird is afforded concealment, shelter and food. Every winter some Hermit Thrushes linger in Cape through February and beyond. As the bird sat curiously watching me my mind wandered back to warm summer days just before dusk in Robinson Woods III where the haunting songs of Hermit Thrushes fill the still air. As it is wintering thrushes never sing; however, they do give a characteristic, soft “tuck” note which I was fortunate to hear before the bird slipped away.

The following day, January 23, in Robinson Woods I counted six Golden-crowned Kinglets and was surprised to find two Swamp Sparrows along the Pond Cove brook corridor. On the afternoon of January 29 my son and I traversed the rocky headland from Dyer Point to the edge of Two Lights State Park. Along our travels we spotted nine species of sea ducks including all three scoter species: Harlequin, Common Goldeneye and Long-tailed Ducks as well as Red-breasted Mergansers and Buffleheads. I also noted a single Red-necked Grebe, a Red-throated Loon and two Great Cormorants that flew past us at close range. Although we did not see it, a King Eider female (hen) had been previously reported in the vicinity as well.

Worth mentioning was the rather fleeting views I had of a bird I rarely see, the Razorbill. The hardy Razorbill is an open ocean, crow-sized seabird that prefers to forage in cold waters less than 200’ deep and commonly found in winter off our offshore ledges and shoals. Razorbills mostly pursue crustaceans and small fish such as sand lance, herring and young cod. Adults in breeding plumage are white below, jet black above and have a robust hatchet-shaped “razor” bill with a white stripe, a short neck, a large head. Interestingly, the inside of this bird’s mouth is bright yellow. At this time of year when the bird is not breeding, the side of the Razorbill’s face and throat are white versus black.

The Razorbill population decreased significantly in the late 1800s to early 1900s due largely to human hunting of the bird and its eggs. From a bit of subsequent research, it seemed that the Razorbill’s eggs were more desirable than the bird itself. However, I found one reference to what this seabird might have tasted like. John J. Audubon had been on an expedition to study Razorbills (then called the Razor-billed Auk) breeding on a rugged island in the gulf of St. Lawrence when he wrote, “Their flesh is by the fisherman considered good, and I found it tolerable, when well stewed, although it is very dark and therefore not prepossessing.” The bird’s near threatened status in Maine has improved since then though, with populations rebounding along Maine’s central and eastern coastal islands since 1970.

Often when exploring Dyer Point my mind drifts to a fascinating occurrence that happened several years back. In the late fall of 2018 two accomplished birders reported a Burrowing Owl that had quickly flown past them on Dyer Point. Unfortunately, with lack of photographic evidence this sighting has yet to be accepted by the Maine Bird Records Committee. The state of Maine has had only two other confirmed Burrowing Owl records.