Local birding report

Over the past two weeks, as new birds have filtered into my yard, I’ve been thinking about how birders learn to recognize not just species, but individuals—the particular birds who occupy and defend the small territories woven through our landscapes. Birds sing for many reasons, but two stand above the rest: to attract a mate and to stake out a claim. Their songs are both invitation and boundary line.

Right now, three male Common Yellowthroats are busy carving out fiefdoms in my backyard. By standing in the same spot each day and listening to their wichity wichity wichity exchanges, you can begin to map where one bird’s realm ends and another’s begins. Walk through any forest and you’re moving through an invisible patchwork of these overlapping territories, each one held by a particular bird with a particular voice.

Once you begin to notice this, your relationship with the birds around you deepens. When I’m standing in a certain corner of the yard and hear a Yellowthroat singing, I know it isn’t just any migrant passing through — it’s Larry, one of the three resident males (respectively: Larry, Curly and Moe). And when I’m down in the bog, the Great Crested Flycatcher calling closest to me is the same bird, albeit yet to be named, who will defend our patch of wet woods until late September.

Naming birds isn’t about anthropomor-phizing them. For me, it’s about understanding who lives on the land and how they use it, so I can create or improve habitat that supports them. Sometimes that means building slash piles for cover, planting native shrubs like elderberry, serviceberry, hazelnut, and dogwood, or adding a birdbath. Moving water is key — my wife reminded me of this recently — so I’ve outfitted our old bath with a small circulator. Studies show that moving water attracts more species, including warblers. A shallow basin, regular cleaning, and placement in an open area with nearby perches are all critical ingredients.

Additional notes from the field include: May 5 brought foul weather and the flutelike carols of Baltimore Orioles. Their song resembles an American Robin’s but with sharper call notes woven through. I’m always on the lookout for their smaller cousin, the Orchard Oriole as well. Males are a deep brownish red rather than orange, and second year males resemble females except for a bold black “beard” and mask. Females are surprisingly small, closer to a large wood warbler in size. Orchard Orioles are uncommon but regular breeders in Cape, though parasitism by Brown headed Cowbirds is rampant. Last spring, after hearing one singing, I located its pouch like nest high up in a birch tree along Great Pond. Orchard Orioles do not defend nesting territories and can nest in close proximity to Baltimore Orioles.

Other recent highlights on this day in May included a singing Winter Wren, strong numbers of Pine Warblers, several Yellow Warblers, a single male Northern Parula, and a solitary Nashville Warbler working through an apple tree along Shore Road. Nashville Warblers — gray headed, white eyed, yellow below and olive above — are ironically named; they pass through Nashville at most and nest far to the north in cool mixed woods.

On May 8, the big to do in my yard was when four male Rose breasted Grosbeaks and one female arrived at the feeder. The males are striking birds — handsome, musical, and devoted partners. Later in the season a lucky observer may even catch a male standing guard over his mate at the nest, singing her a soft, sweet song.

May 10 brought a different kind of spectacle. While sitting on the rocky shoreline of Pond Cove, I watched flocks of Lesser Yellowlegs working the wrack line. At one point, twenty seven of these dainty shorebirds foraged around my son and me, barely acknowledging our presence. A Spotted Sandpiper — robin sized, orange billed, and boldly spotted in breeding plumage — bobbed along nearby. Their teetering gait and alternating bursts of rapid wingbeats and gliding make them unmistakable. Later that day, I welcomed my first Northern House Wren of the season back to the garden and while walking the fringes of the bog below our house, my son and I watched a male Black throated Green Warbler bathing in a shallow, gently moving “warbler stream.” These birds nest in Robinson Woods so listen for their rising and falling “trees trees I love trees” refrain next time you wander into the forest.