Local birding report

Early to late July for me is the time of year where I can set out to look and listen for specific species I may have missed during spring migration like the Warbling Vireo with its rambling song, or uncommonly seen shorebirds like the American Oystercatcher, or different types of terns like the Artic and Roseate, and elusive birds like the American Bittern, Wilson’s Snipe and Virginia Rail.

Over the last two weeks one of the most active places to be before dusk is where the woods meet the upper wetland sections of Pond Cove Brook Corridor. The chorus at sundown includes Common Yellowthroats and Yellow Warblers, American Redstarts, Great-crested Flycatchers, Eastern Wood-Peewees and Red-winged Blackbirds. A mother Wood Duck who sensed my presence one evening let out a “oo-eek” to alert her clutch of seven ducklings.

On a separate occasion, from somewhere in the wetlands, three Glossy Ibis took to the wing, flying with neck and feet outstretched towards their nighttime roosting spot on an island somewhere in Casco Bay. Stepping deeper into the shadowy forest, the pulsing songs from Ovenbirds intertwine with the delicate notes of a Hermit Thrush and several Veeries. Our summer resident upper canopy dwellers including the Black-throated Green Warbler sings its buzzy ringing “trees, trees I love trees” and from the heights of an old stand of White Pines emanates the steady trilling song of the Pine Warbler.

Listening for birds can often be easier than seeing them as their voices carry for great distances and can indicate so much about the bird and its surroundings. Our woodland songbirds have a repertoire of songs and calls used to indicate subtle signals, such as whether the bird is looking to impress upon a mate, defend itself on a territory or warn of a nearby predator.

Now with Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s Merlin Bird ID app “Sound ID” it is entirely possible to identify individual bird sounds even when multiple birds are singing at the same time. This is accomplished by leveraging over 1.5 million birdsong recordings to capture live audio in the field and identify species in real time using machine learning.

Not only has the app helped me learn and relearn the sounds of both local and migratory songbirds, but it has also helped me find birds that I had overlooked before and has added a totally new dimension to my appreciation of the natural world surrounding me.

One bird in particular whose preference for treetops makes it almost impossible to spot (much easier to identify by voice) is the tireless Warbling Vireo. Far from flashy, this vireo is gray-olive above and whitish below with hints of yellow. Fortunately, they are remarkably persistent singers. On June 12 and June 26 I heard a Warbling Vireo singing high up in an Oak Tree in our back yard and on June 16 my son and I listened to this bird’s tender, liquid strains of music as we fished along the fringes of Great Pond.

In contrast to the more flowy song of the Warbling Vireo is the abrupt, jerky and at times taunting “look at me, here I am” notes of the Red-eyed Vireo. This vireo’s song is a broken series of slurred notes, each phrase ending in either an upswing or a down slur, as if the bird asks itself a question, then answers and repeats. Red-eyed Vireos can be heard singing in our woodlands all summer long. Of note, Peter Vickery’s sites a study in “Birds of Maine” that for every forty Red-eyed Vireos in a defined tract there is typically only one Warbling Vireo. That said Red-eyed Vireos are the most widespread and abundant breeding vireos in Maine.

Recently I stumbled across a character by the name of Elliot Coues. Born in 1842 in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Elliot went on to become a Union Army surgeon, Theosophist and Ornithologist. In 1878 while working on his “Key to North American Birds,” Elliot wrote of the Warbling Vireo, “these urbane birds move in a quiet circle of their own, in slight contact with the less polished members of society” and “we seldom see them, indeed; they are oftener a voice than a visible presence – just a ripple of melody, threading its way through the mazes of verdure, now flowing released on its grateful mission.“ And Elliot goes on to write “from the grand old halls of the stately oak to the canopied shade weaving elm, and the redolent depths of magnolia – issues all summer long the same exquisite refrain while the singers glide through their hermitage unseen. Who would know these spirituelle musicians better must be quick to catch a glimpse of a very small sober-colored bird whose tints are those of its leafy home, and whose course in the heart of the trees is as devious as the play of the sunbeam itself.”

Also worth mentioning, the male Warbling Vireo is a model husband and provider. He relieves the female on the nest, feeds her while she is occupied and even sings while taking his turn on the nest.