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April 5, 2007  April Given the blast of cold air beginning April it is hard to believe this month traditionally brings the first Swallows. (I have tree and Violet-green Swallows recorded on or near April 1st. And just past the middle of April I've recorded the first Hummingbirds.) Despite the cold though, some bird species continue to wend their way northward; as I continue beating the bushes searching for returnees. One recent, memorable walk was taken on the last day of March. The day was cold and sunny. I headed towards the park, my eyes rolling around searching for birds, my ears finely attuned to the spring sounds. It didn't take long for my vigilance to pay off. From shadowy willows came the rudimentary song of the first Ruby-crowned Kinglet. From the same general direction came a familiar "vit vit" denoting the presence of a Yellow-rumped Warbler. I glassed the darkness for visual confirmation on these birds and my eyes rose through the shadows to the spruce tops where two Pine Grosbeaks perched. (The Pine Grosbeak appears to have had a mini population explosion this winter.) One thing aiding identification of the blackened silhouettes was deeply notched tails. Very few birds the size of Robins posses such a deep "V". Moving alongside the creek I disturbed a pair of Common Goldeneye. At the beginning of April the Common Goldeneye outnumbers the Barrow's Goldeneye. By April's end the situation is reversed; it's hard to find a single Common whereas Barrow's are here by the truckload. In several areas Common Mergansers, so resplendent and large that they don't deserve the appellation "common", skittered nervously away down the creek. At the spot where the creek straightens and follows the dike along the old sewer lagoon I sighted silver ripples in the dark water. I looked through my binoculars and was momentarily mystified by the waterfowl. I was about to move closer then saw a strip of white across the shoulder area and knew I was looking at the first Green-winged Teal of the year. Some years the Green-wings are the first ducks I see but this year perhaps they were late, or perhaps our paths just hadn't converged. Male Bufflehead ducks, looking for all the world like some form of giant water-chickadees, pattered away as I continued my walk along the dike. Several male Red-winged Blackbirds called from the tops of cattails. Nervous Song Sparrows sang and moved low through cover before rising to sing in new locations. I crossed Little Bridge Creek along the wooden fence rails and scared a pair of Canada Geese. I climbed to the flat of the creek where a Flicker called from the top of a tree and a Pileated Woodpecker flew silently by. I gazed over the glowing red willows below and realized that it had been some time since I'd walked here. Waterfowl flew off as I proceeded along one of my favourite parts of this particular walk, an area somewhat changed since the pine trees, and a few other species, were logged off. Still the landforms remained unchanged. A large mud cliff riddled with the burrows of Bank Swallows always draws my attention. An oxbow area still holds water but is lost to the main creek channel, and when viewed from above and in such early morning light, looks like a primordial world. At this spot I found more Ruby-crowned Kinglets chattering and moving like little green feather-puffs through the willow limbs. I swung away from the creek and walked along a deeply rutted pioneer wagon road for a few minutes. Then I crossed a logged poplar area and ended up by the Forest Grove Road just across from the site of the new sewer lagoon. This spot would teem with waterfowl and even before reaching the road I could see the sparkling white of hundreds of Goldeneye. Closer inspection gave me my first Redhead of the season, a Gadwall, Ring-necked Duck and Lesser Scaup. These ducks are not scarce but with the ice taking so long to disappear from the marsh, I've been a little starved for sightings of the web-footed variety. My return walk to town took me back up Little Bridge Creek where I happened upon two startlingly blue mountain Bluebirds, again the first I've laid eyes on this spring. It was a nice way to end one of my sunnier outings. Swans But now I'll take an abrupt detour to 100-Mile Marsh where the Trumpeter and Tundra swans can be studied at length because a small crescent of open water keeps them well within viewing range. As a result of this confinement I was able to scrutinize both species and learn that the best way to tell them apart is to study their facial features. Try as I might I can't find enough differences in their postures or relative sizes to help identify them by other means. On both species the black of the bill creates a triangle as it rises to the forehead. On the Trumpeter the black triangle completely encompasses the eye. On the Tundra the triangle attaches to the eye creating the effect of a bead attached to a triangle. The line from the gape of the bill to the lores is also straighter in the Trumpeter and more curved down near the gape in the Tundra. When first studying the swans I noticed that one of the Trumpeters wore a red leg band; actually it has two leg bands, (red on one leg, metallic on the other leg but that initially escaped me.) I decided to find out what was written on the bands, and to that end I have deciphered the big red band with white lettering of the right leg but try as I might I can't make out the myriad of numbers on the silver left leg band. The band-wearer appears to be a highly aggressive bird. In the process of chasing a third Trumpeter onto the ice, it executed a curious stance I'd never seen before. It stood haughtily on the ice with its wings spread and neck curled over its back then brought its head into view over its shoulder. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
