Outings To The Southern Corridor
April 10th, 2010
Someday, maybe someday soon, I'm going to make a website called "Birding
Ottawa by Bus."
All the existing Ottawa bird guides (there are several, including a very good
one called
NeilyWorld) are
geared (sorry) towards drivers. Bus routes often aren't even mentioned, even
for sites that are reachable by bus--or the bus info is incomplete or
outdated. This leaves those of us who are not car-enabled, or (like me) not
car-enabled much, to try to puzzle out how we can get to all these fabulous
places, or how, perhaps, we can find a substitute for [super-remote awesome
birding spot] that's on a bus route and offers some of the same sightings.
I envision this guides having two sections, or rather two "views", one by
site, the other by species. The guide-by-species is what I would really want.
Everyone knows how to find, say, a Yellow Warbler by bus (go to Mud Lake, or
Hog's Back Park, or really just about any little greenspace in Ottawa
including possibly your back yard). But how about an
Indigo
Bunting by bus? (McCarthy Woods near the train tracks, 87.) How about a
Ruffed
Grouse by bus? (Old Quarry Trail, 118.) How about
Meadowlarks
by bus? (Yeah, how about that? Do want.)
One of the biggest gaps in my lifelist is grassland/farmland birds. Because
farmland almost by definition is outlying land. Busses don't go there except
for rural express, and then, of course, they go in the wrong direction--from
rural in the morning, to rural at night. (There is the Experimental Farm, but
that only goes so far. We're talking birds who like fallow grassy fields, tall
weeds, scrub--real open country, not just crops and buildings.)
Now that I have my license, I do plan to drive out to some of those places
when I get the chance. But I'm also happy to have found a quite bussable
little grassland 20 minutes from where I live! It's a no-name rectangle of
open, public, undeveloped land between Riverside Drive and McCarthy Road,
reachable by the 87. There's a mature maple forest called McCarthy
Woods--jagash and I surveyed that part last year for the OFNC Breeding Bird
Count--a bushy thicket, and then a quite big area that's nothing but grass and
scattered shrubs and trees, basically a meadow. The whole area is informally
called "the southern corridor" by naturalists but it's otherwise practically
unknown except by locals. I don't know what all breeding birds it supports,
but in the coming months, I plan to find out.
The solitude is nice. After visiting big-name conservation areas like Mud Lake
and Jack Pine Trail, which are absolutely crawling with birders,
photographers, hikers and families in the warm months, it's refreshing to
visit a little no-name chunk of land, where the only person I ever run into is
the very occasional local dog-walker. And if I want to exchange that for
complete solitude, all I have to do is go off the path.
And actually, this no-name chunk of land is turning out to be a pretty
exciting place to bird! Two trips this spring have produced the following:
- American
Kestrel: After almost three years of birding, and after having him on my
wishlist for all of those three years, I finally found my first kestrel.
Kestrels are small, colorful grassland falcons. They're supposedly quite
common. I've searched for them numerous times at Fletcher Wildlife Garden and
the Experimental Farm (where they breed), with no luck. This one was perched
in a small tree in the meadow. I was struck by how much he looked like a plump
Mourning Dove. But chickadees don't fuss at doves, nor do doves have vertical
stripes below their eyes, to reduce the sun glare when they're hunting.
He didn't let me get close. I hope all kestrels aren't that skittish, or it
could be awhile before I get a picture. Their preferred habitat does not
exactly give me much in the way of camouflage!
- Great
Horned Owl: When I heard the raucous din of crows in the woods, I knew
they had to be onto something big. I followed the caws and found him in a
tree, with dozens of crows perched all around shouting at him--actually
leaning off their perches just so they could go "RAWH!" in his face. (I've
told you before, I think, how Great Horned Owl is their worst enemy. He is one
of the few birds that is big enough, strong enough, and stealthy enough to
kill and eat an adult crow.) Some of them even crept up from behind to peck at
him. But as soon as he turned around, they backed off.
While this was going on, a Turkey Vulture came by and soared quite languidly
overhead, almost hovering. Perhaps he was hoping that all that noise meant
"found food!", not "found an enemy!"
- Cooper's
Hawk: Remember that high-intensity redwing alarm call I described
recently? The one that caused a chickadee to make a startled sound and
immediately dive into the nearest bush? I heard it again.
It happened simultaneously with a big, crow-sized Cooper's Hawk swooping right
over my head with a black bird in her talons. She landed on an arched fallen
tree (a classic accipiter "plucking station") and got to work. I was able to
get a good look at the prey before she plucked it. So I can report that there
is now one less European Starling in the world--and one Cooper's Hawk who
dined well.
Addendum: Female Cooper's Hawks are about the size of crows. Male Cooper's
Hawks are about the size of doves. Female Cooper's Hawks sometimes eat
birds the size of doves. This
site suggests that males are thus hesitant to approach females, unless
they hear the "reassuring call notes" that indicate the female is in a
conjugal sort of mood, not a killing-and-eating sort of mood.
Perhaps that's why, after she was done, she perched, looked around and called
a few times. "All fed, dear! You can come out now."