Local birding report

Returning from a family trip to a barrier island in South Carolina, I found myself still hearing the place days after we’d left it: the bright, rolling sequence of notes that drift down in pitch from Yellow throated Warblers that carries across treetops of Live Oak Trees draped with moss, and at night the eerie, looping chant of Chuck will’s widows drifting across the dark. Along the beaches, huge flocks of Red Knots, Royal Terns and Black Skimmers crowded the tide line—species not often seen in Cape Elizabeth except during migration.

Speaking of which, colder than average temperatures and stubborn winds through late April may have slowed migration a bit, but spring has finally taken hold across Cape. As always, stepping outside is enough to find something new.

For me, the joy of spring birding often lies in the unexpected combinations. On April 22, while admiring the steady trill of Pine Warblers in Robinson Woods III, Hermit Thrushes slipped through the underbrush and a northbound Great Blue Heron bellowed somewhere overhead. In my backyard a Palm Warbler, a Red breasted Nuthatch, and a Red bellied Woodpecker fed together on suet, their colors catching the setting sun, while White throated, Chipping and Song Sparrows scratched and gave chase below.

On April 25, along the fringes of the inland Pond Brook corridor, the sweet, whistled warbles from Yellow rumped Warblers could be heard as they darted and sallied for insects. Ruby crowned Kinglets flitted among warblers, their rollicking song signaling spring has sprung. Several tail bobbing Palm Warblers were sprinkled in for good measure. The “wheet wheet” calls from Wood Ducks echoed through the forest just beyond me.

The following day, April 26, I stopped at a small cattail pond along Wells Road where two Blue winged Teals were quietly feeding. Overhead, Tree Swallows chattered and circled, their clear notes cutting through the air, while the lower, buzzier calls of Northern Rough winged Swallows drifted in occasionally. Tree Swallows, shiny and blue green like gems are social acrobats; Rough winged, by contrast, are brown gray, shadowy, and solitary, flying lower and straighter.

In the moment I found myself thinking about the distances these birds had traveled to get to Cape—Blue winged Teal and Rough winged Swallows both migrate from Central or even South America, when suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by a series of soft, pig like grunts that rose from deep within the cattails. A moment later came a water plop-ping sound, followed by a three second look at a small brownish bird with an upturned tail. This bird was a Virginia Rail.

Found in fresh and brackish wetlands, these secretive, chicken like birds prefer dense jungles of cattails, reeds, briars and grasses, slipping through hidden passages that keep them out of sight. Slightly larger than a robin, the Virginia Rail has a thin body, long reddish orange bill, rich cinnamon underparts, gray cheeks, sharply barred flanks, and long toes adapted for pushing through thick vegetation. Their forehead feathers are specially reinforced for the same purpose. Rails have the highest ratio of leg muscle to flight muscle of any bird—perfect for walking through rugged marshes. They fly only short distances except during migration, and can even evade predators by using their wings to swim underwater.

Another rail species that I have not yet seen in Cape is the Sora Rail. This bird is equally secretive and often found in the same habitats as the Virginia Rail. I couldn’t confirm one that day, though it may well have been nearby. Soras differ from Virginia Rails with their short, stubby yellow bills, black facial mask and yellow green legs. Listen for loud and boisterous whinny echoes across our wetlands from spring through summer.