Local birding report

In August, as summer lingers across the northern sky, Cygnus the Swan reaches its peak brilliance, gliding through the star rich Milky Way. Far below this celestial swan, the first waves of fall migration are already underway, with thrushes, warblers and shorebirds traveling south through the same darkness that draws my gaze skyward on warm, late summer nights.

A few notes from the field for late August. Although a buggy affair, Gull Crest is a true hotspot for birds. On August 18 a metallic chink call caught my ear, and moments later a streaky brown songbird appeared in a bush along the path, bobbing its rear. Lacking the bold coloration of many warblers and avoiding forest canopies, Northern Waterthrushes prefer the edges of still bogs and slow streams. They often slip unnoticed through the shadows of swamps and thickets. At first glance they appear plain, dressed in browns and creams, but those who seek out wild places know them as one of the great voices of the northern forest.

For me, finding a Northern Waterthrush feels less like spotting a bird and more like discovering a hidden corner of wilderness. Its presence speaks of intact wetlands and forests left largely undisturbed. To see one on a late August afternoon is a reminder to me that some of the wildest treasures are not the most colorful or conspicuous, but the ones that quietly inhabit the margins, faithful to places where woods and solitude meet.

On August 19, while briskly making my way along the meadow trail within CELT’s Runaway Farm II property, I rounded a corner toward an older section of upland forest and low and behold, a Yellow billed Cuckoo sat at eye level on a branch less than twenty feet away! What struck me first was its long tail and bold white spots gleaming on the underside. Seconds later the bird shifted, revealing greenish, satiny reflections along its back as it swayed in the gentle summer breeze. It had the posture of readiness, yet remained motionless.

Then the cuckoo looked back over its shoulder and offered a cool, reserved, but direct gaze—no sign of nervousness, only quiet appraisal. After a lingering moment, the bird slipped away, furtive and silent. In the late afternoon sun its bronzy coloring seemed to glow, and I imagined it vanishing into some leafy retreat where it could continue to enjoy the silence and solitude dear to this woodland recluse.

Slightly longer than a robin, the Yellow billed Cuckoo is distinguished from its cousin, the Black billed Cuckoo, by reddish flight feathers and black tail feathers marked with large white spots. The yellow on the lower part of its bill can be subtle but is visible in good light.

This calm, quiet, secretive bird is far more often heard than seen. Indeed, it would be rarely seen at all were it not for its loud, unhurried "knocking call", which fades as summer progresses. Yellow billed Cuckoos favor the fringes of woods near farmlands or orchards. Later in the season, listen for their distinctive dove like cooing. The last time I had seen one in Cape was in September of 2020.

The cuckoo has long been considered a weather prophet. Indigenous peoples believed that when the bird becomes vociferous, rain will surely follow—and there is likely some foundation to this belief.

Cuckoos have a reputation for laying eggs in the nests of other birds, but this is only marginally true for the Yellow billed Cuckoo; the European Cuckoo is the truly parasitic species.

Caterpillars are the cuckoo’s favorite food, and it is one of the few birds that readily eats hairy species. Ornithologist Edward H. Forbush wrote that Yellow billed Cuckoos “are of the greatest service to the farmer, by reason of their well known fondness for caterpillars, particularly the hairy species. No caterpillars are safe from the cuckoo... Often the stomach of a cuckoo will be lined with a felted mass of caterpillar hairs.” When this felted lining becomes too dense to allow digestion, the bird can shed the entire stomach lining by coughing up a pellet while simultaneously growing a new one.

Yellow billed Cuckoos are considered rare summer residents in Cumberland County, including Cape though they can be fairly regular in southwestern Maine north and east to Bangor on years when caterpillars are plentiful.