This raven came along while I was watching diving ducks on Wednesday. He was
heralded in the usual way: by the sound of angry crows!
I bet you look at that picture and imagine him making a loud "grawk!", right?
Nope. The sound he actually made (repeatedly) was a delicate, hollow little
*pop*--like the sound of water droplets. Each time opening his beak wide and
fluffing out his throat feathers dramatically, all to deliver this tiny sound
effect. Gotta love ravens.
Maybe *pop* was code for, "anybody want to share this?"
The Hooded
Merganser is an odd-looking duck at the best of times. So when a wind
ruffled this guy's crest feathers, he looked beyond odd--like something had
come and taken a bite out of him!
Here he is looking a little more dignified:
"Hoodies" are common spring and fall migrants in Ottawa. They don't usually
winter here. Right now you can find them just south of Riverain Park, often
swimming right along shore (but you have to peek through the reeds to see
them.) Oddly, Hooded Mergansers are known to hybridize, in the wild, with bothspecies of
goldeneye. That's not merely a cross-species hybrid, but cross-genus!
It was a great morning for diving ducks on the Rideau today.
For starters, the Goldeneyes are back! Not that this is new news--it's
weeks-old news, in fact. But I finally got out there on a sunny morning to
take pictures of them.
Most of you have heard me wax eloquent about goldeneyes before, but for the
one or two newcomers: Common Goldeneyes are hardy diving ducks who regularly
spend the winter in Ottawa, breeding north of us in the boreal forest. They
winter on the limited stretches of the Rideau and Ottawa Rivers, usually near
rapids, that remain unfrozen year-round. The mature males are black and white
with a green gloss to their heads and a white cheek spot; the females are grey
and brown.
Like other diving ducks, they submerge entirely underwater in search of food:
members of a foraging goldeneye group will disappear and reappear every ten
seconds or so, making them an exercise in patience for the bird-watcher! They
forage actively even at temperatures of 30 below. They have an incredible
tolerance for cold and for rough waters. They are my favorite ducks. I love
their beauty and I love their strength.
There's even a bit of courtship going on--that's what the male second from the
left is up to with the neck-craning. This will continue, probably, until
winter really sets in, then they'll resume the festivities in March.
A total of three male Barrow's Goldeneyes have been seen mingling with the
Commons. This once-rare species is becoming a more and more regular sight in
Ottawa in winter, though they still only come in very small numbers--it's just
that they come to predictable spots where birders know to find them. Above is
a good comparison of a male Barrow's (front) and Common: you can see the
different shape of the cheek spot, and the way the Barrow's' head is glossed
with indigo instead of green. (If they weren't well-sunlit, both heads would
look black.)
This one's a bit of a mystery. Ordinarily I'd peg it as a juvenile male
Common--but if so why the all-yellow bill?
Found this female Common Merganser at
Riverain Park on Thursday. Her head, bill, and above all feet were startling
bits of color on an otherwise gray morning.
I found this male Pileated
Woodpecker drilling some old trees leaning over the Rideau. I often find
this species along my stretch of river in November and December.
There's a winter bird feeding station about ten minutes walk from where I
live, near Hurdman and the Rideau River. It's somewhat established, but often
only sporadically maintained. In past years, it's attracted redpolls
and siskins--boreal
birds who sometimes spend the winter in Ottawa, depending on circumstances in
the north (e.g. availability of their favorite foods.)
A big redpoll invasion is predicted for our region this winter. The
availability of their favorite northern food, birch seeds, is low, plus,
they've had a very successful breeding season, with reports of double and even
triple broods. I'm excited about this and eager to see the Hurdman feeders
well-maintained to attract them. Not knowing who maintains those feeders or if
there's any sort of organized effort, I finally decided to just be proactive!
Went to Wild Birds Unlimited, bought a shiny
new finch feeder and a bag of nyjer seed (a.k.a. thistle seed), and installed
it. Goldfinches, siskins, and redpolls are all closely related, and they all
flock together at thistle-seed feeders. So if I establish a goldfinch magnet
now, their northern relatives are likely to catch on fast when they arrive.
I had a lot of worries--what you may be forgiven for thinking is a ridiculous
amount of neurosis over a bird feeder. Will it survive the weather? Will it
survive the squirrels? Will someone be a jerk and steal it? Just how much
nyjer seed am I going to be going through? Were the people who installed a
finch feeder there in the past (but not, IIRC, last winter) planning on doing
it this winter and if so will they feel that I'm stepping on their toes? And,
most of all, will the finches come?
...the answer to that last question is yes. Oh my lord, yes.
I've got goldfinches. Teeming, swarming goldfinches. Goldfinches enough to
deplete a tube full of thistle seed every three days.
My finch feeder is such a success, that There Are Disputes:
No redpolls yet. But come December or January, there will be redpolls!
Reaction shot: the above photo was taken immediately after a nearby chickadee
made an alarm call.
A rare pleasure: Green-Winged Teal at
Stony Swamp! Seemed a good reason to pull my camera out after an extended
break.
I only ever see these guys in their fall migration--and then, often, in drab
plumage, because the males are late coming out of eclipse. But now they're
finished, with their chestnut-brown heads and glittering green cheek stripes.
A small number of them have been on the marsh at Jack Pine Trail mingling with
the resident mallards. They're not as bold as the mallards, but they're not
terribly shy either. If you stand quietly on the boardwalk, they'll eventually
swim out into plain view.
The mallards were exuberant today, zipping and splashing around in a big
preen-o-rama. Here, one of the teal gets into the act.
Yesterday was spent on a day trip to Pembroke with the OFNC. The group was
quite small. The leader hypothesized that since the Trail & Landscape
with the trip description only came out very recently, a lot of people
probably didn't find out about it until it was too late.
Part one was Lake Doré, which holds the distinction of being the
largest lake in North America without islands. It wasn't all I had hoped for,
which I think was a matter of luck. There are times it's blanketed with
migrant water birds, but yesterday was not one of those times.
It was definitely the most grebey place I've ever been to, though. Grebes are strange-looking water
birds superficially similar to ducks, with squat bodies, long necks, and often
vividly colored breeding plumage--russet red being a popular color. (An
excellent shot of a breeding Eared Grebe is at the top of this page.) For
us here in the east, alas, grebes in breeding colors are a rare treat. They
mostly breed out west, and unlike male ducks, who lose their colors in late
summer but get them back sometime in fall, grebes don't get their colors back
until spring. Only the fairly plain-looking (but very cute) Pied-Billed
Grebe is regularly seen here in spring and summer. Others, mainly in fall.
Grebes are fish-lovers, which explains why Lake Doré is so attractive
to them. At just about every one of our various vantage points, we saw
individuals and/or small groups of Horned
Grebes. We also saw a few Red-Necked Grebes,
which was my first lifer of the day. Other high points on the lake included
Common Loons (also now in their winter plumage), Bonaparte's
Gulls (the most common gull on the water), and an otter, who was enjoying
the abundance of fish about as much as the grebes and loons.
At the picnic area where we had lunch, we were surprised by a flock of Pine
Siskins in the treetops. Siskins are northern birds related to goldfinches
who sometimes wander south in the winter--perhaps this sighting bodes well for
soon seeing siskins in Ottawa? We had a major invasion of them back in winter
of 2008/09--I posted pictures then.
Part two was Shaw Woods, a small remnant tract of old-growth forest. This was
the more enjoyable part of the day, for me. It wasn't what I expected from
old-growth woods: I expected the trees to tower, to be immense, primeval. Not
really. No truly huge trunks, and the trees weren't any taller than, say, the
white pines at Mud Lake.
What it was was beautiful. Rich fall colors, a diverse mix of trees (birch,
beech, aspen, balsam fir, hemlock...), and a cedar swamp that proved to be
especially productive for interesting birds. Sightings included a Hermit
Thrush, a Winter
Wren, and the star of the trip, my first Gray Jay. (Incidentally, that
hyperlink's to the surprisingly excellent Wikipedia page for Gray Jay. I
recommend it.) Gray Jays are northern birds related to Blue Jays and Crows.
They're big, fluffy, and gray and white, like mutant overgrown chickadees.
Mostly they stick to the boreal forest and the high mountains. Algonquin Park
is the only place at all close to Ottawa where Gray Jays are common. That was
where I had expected to get my lifer.
Then I came home and crashed hard. I did this trip on zero sleep but enjoyed
it anyway!