Words on Birds

2012-01-05T20:48:00.000-06:00

Use IBET to connect with more birds in 2012
(published 1-6-12)

Most of us jump at the opportunity to see a species for the first time, especially if it’s a bird uncommon to our region. The key is knowing the what, when and where.

My last column referred to the online community known as IBET, which stands for Illinois Birders Exchanging Thoughts. It’s a free e-mail “listserv” that alerts birders to notable sightings and other useful information. If you are not already a user, make a New Year’s resolution to check it out.

I owe at least 10 birds on my life list to IBET, the latest being the sage thrasher that visited Chicago in November. I didn’t pursue that bird on the first day it was reported but thanks to IBET I knew its daily status. Five days after the initial sighting I made the 35-mile trip down to Montrose beach, knowing that my chances of finding the thrasher were still very good. In our hobby, information like that is gold.

As of last month, IBET had 1,927 registered members. Sue Friscia, a birder from Alsip, founded the network on AOL in 1995 and still serves as list administrator. IBET started with about 40 participants who, like Friscia, were keen on knowing what birds were visiting the area on a daily basis and sharing information about rare sightings. Before e-mail, obsessed birders gathered such intelligence via telephone “hot lines” that played recorded messages. The Internet is a lot more efficient!

Today, IBET is among the top 10 Yahoo Groups for birding in the country. News travels quickly on the network, often leading to spur-of-the-moment birding opportunities that are too good to pass up.

Years ago, when I worked in downtown Chicago, I noticed a fresh e-mail about a least bittern in Lincoln Park. The secretive marsh-dwelling species had been spotted about an hour earlier. As my forehead began to sweat, I grabbed my binoculars and dashed out the door to catch a northbound bus. I was on the scene 20 minutes later and, fortunately, so was the bird—in plain view, perched on a low branch just above the water at North Pond. It’s still the only least bittern I’ve ever seen, and a posting on IBET made it possible.

In recent weeks, IBET subscribers have been treated to some eyebrow-raising reports from the Chicago lakefront. Want to see a snowy owl? Several have been seen and IBET will guide you to them. Even if you can’t make the trip you can enjoy the amazing photographs that IBET users post on a regular basis—the next best thing to being there!

On December 27, a male black-throated blue warbler was discovered in Millennium Park. IBET lit up like a Christmas tree. To see that species in December in Chicago was perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Thanks to IBET, you got your chance.

Details on long-tailed duck and harlequin duck sightings were other notable late-December postings from IBETers who patrol the Chicago lakefront.

The network is valuable in other ways, too. It’s a place to ask questions and get answers, and a place to share birding stories that might otherwise go untold. At any given time, a spirited discussion might break out on some issue or topic. A recent string covered the ethics of owl watching, followed by a debate over the use of recorded bird calls in the field. If a story about birds or birding appears in a major newspaper, chances are somebody will post a link on IBET. I always appreciate that!

As a learning tool, IBET was at its best in December when dozens of postings addressed the “mystery hummingbird” visiting a feeder in Oak Park. Determining the bird’s true identity proved to be a fascinating “real science” case study and IBET users enjoyed daily updates. First the area’s top birders (and others from around the country) shared their expertise and opinions based on observations and photos. Then we followed the progress of a CSI-style investigation by ornithologists. Ultimately, the Field Museum’s DNA studies proved the rare visitor to be a rufous hummingbird, not a broad-tailed hummingbird as most birders initially believed.

The number of daily messages posted to IBET varies greatly by season. During the peak of spring and fall migration, when waves of non-resident birds are moving through the region, the network may produce 25 or more postings a day. Most are by Chicago-area birders but downstate birders often chime in, too. Postings from DuPage and Kane Counties are frequent.

Information overload is always a danger but if you open just a fraction of the messages you’ll get a good sense of what birds to watch for at different times throughout the year—and what to expect in your backyard tomorrow.

In my view, as a learning aid and just for fun, IBET is well worth your time. It succeeds every day in its mission to promote the joy of birding.

To join the list, send an e-mail to ILbirds-subscribe@yahoogroups.com and mention this column. You’ll receive a reply and then follow the instructions. (Note: “ILbirds” is the group’s formal name for registration purposes but users call it IBET.) You can also view the latest postings by visiting http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ILbirds/.

Copyright 2012 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Snowy owl photo by Jerry Goldner

2011-12-12T11:43:00.003-06:00

News, notes and observations from a very “big year”
(published 12-12-11)

2011 began ominously when thousands of blackbirds dropped dead out of the sky in Arkansas. Remember that? A few days later, in Louisiana, it happened again. Thankfully, it was not a nationwide trend and avian conditions soon returned to normal.

For birders, normal is great. In any season, there is always something to see, share and discuss. But sometimes things are better than great, like last month along the Chicago lakefront. There, and also in Oak Park, some crazy, magical stuff took place, producing a string of local rarities that will long be remembered.

The fun began on Oct. 29 with the discovery of a sage thrasher at Montrose Beach. It was only the 5th Illinois record for this species, a rare visitor from the west. Amazingly, the bird lingered in the same general area for weeks. It was a “lifer” for most birders, including me.

Meanwhile, three more western vagrants were on the way! A mountain bluebird appeared at Illinois Beach State Park in Zion on Nov. 10, followed by a Brewer’s sparrow at Chicago’s Northerly Island on Nov. 12. Then, against all odds, a Townsend’s solitaire turned up at Montrose and actually visited the very same fruiting bush favored by the sage thrasher. They don’t call it the Magic Hedge for nothing.

But it wasn’t over. Two snowy owls delighted the Montrose faithful on Nov. 19, and then a probable broad-tailed hummingbird (yet another westerner) appeared at an Oak Park feeder. The hummer, still around in early December, attracted major-media coverage as well as birders from several states. If confirmed, it would be the first documented broad-tailed hummingbird for Illinois.

Other notable finds in Chicago during 2011 included a Ross’s gull in late March (Illinois’s 3rd) and a green-tailed towhee in October.

Here in DuPage County, more than 8,000 migrating sandhill cranes passed over the Greene Valley Forest Preserve hawkwatch on Nov. 16. The counters are still recovering.

“IBET” is the online birding list-serve that alerts us to all these discoveries, and sometimes the postings are accidentally funny. For example: “The Northern Mockingbird was still present at Binny's Beverage Depot on Thursday morning, Oct. 27.” Or this, posted by a man who had just attended a certain film about competitive birding: “There were only 4 persons at the movie the day we were there, myself and Laura, and another guy who has some bird feeders and his wife.”

Ah yes, “The Big Year,” surely one of the highlights of 2011. The movie was a box office bomb but birders generally liked it and I’ll bet some of us will even buy the DVD. Or at least visit Redbox.

Thanks to the all-star cast and a modest promotion campaign, “The Big Year” was noticed by a lot of people who are not yet birders. Lots of people told me about it (just in case I hadn’t heard).

Another 2011 event that seemed to transcend the birding community was an “eagle cam” in Decorah, Iowa. People all across America were logging on to watch those birds—an avian version of “The Truman Show” with Jim Carrey. Kudos to the Raptor Resource Project for making it happen.

Speaking of eagles, lots of opportunities to get a winter fix: Bald Eagle Days in the Quad Cities, Jan. 6-8; Clinton Eagle Watch, Jan. 7 (at lock and dam #13, near Fulton, IL); and Starved Rock Eagle Watch Weekend, Jan. 28-29.

I love that new species of birds are still being discovered. In 2011, Bryan’s shearwater joined the list of about 10,000 species worldwide.

I’ll probably never see a Bryan’shearwater, but I did add two birds to my life list this year: the sage thrasher in Chicago and Florida scrub jay, found at Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge.

Something else I love: the new “environmental” license plate for Illinois. I’m still getting used to the green background but the cardinal illustration is much improved. We owed that to our state bird.

Canada might finally get a national bird. Red-tailed hawk is reportedly leading in the Canadian Raptor Conservancy’s online poll.

If you like owls, conservation and wine, check out threehoots.com.

A great-horned owl presented me with a gift on Aug. 2. It was daybreak and I’d just finished my workout at the Glen Ellyn YMCA. As I walked to my car I heard some hooting. I followed the sound until I was behind the building, at the little field where my son once played t-ball. For a few minutes I just sat on the bleachers to listen and remember. Birding can slow us down sometimes, and this is good.

In April, Team Sapsucker from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology set the North American Big Day record by finding 264 bird species in 24 hours. In Texas, of course!

Best feel-good bird story of the year: The return of the two Mooseheart eaglets to the wild on Nov. 13. The birds spent five months at Flint Creek Wildlife Rehabilitation in Barrington after falling from their nest last May.

Saddest bird story of the year: In May, a 38-year-old Naperville man was struck and killed when he attempted to help a family of ducklings across I-294, near O’Hare.

Moving from sad to just plain disappointing, Kentucky passed a measure allowing sandhill cranes to be hunted in that state beginning Dec. 15. The hunt will last 30 days or until 400 birds are dead. Thirteen western states allow crane hunting but Kentucky is the first state east of the Mississippi to do so.

I’m OK with hunting, and I buy a federal duck stamp every year. But cranes?

Have you heard about the new Frontier League baseball team, the Schaumburg Boomers? The mascot is a greater prairie chicken. Sweet logo. Gotta get me a hat.

Consider this description of Wild Delight Cardinal Food, spotted in a recent Ace Hardware ad: “A premium wild bird food blended to attract and feed the most desirable outdoor pets.”

Birders are allowed to watch mammals, too! My favorite four-legged sighting of 2011 was a 13-lined ground squirrel at Prairie Landing Golf Club in West Chicago, in June and again in August. We are at the far eastern edge of this species’ usual range.

New books on my nightstand, waiting patiently for my tired eyes: “Avian Architecture,” by Peter Goodfellow, and “Bird Coloration,” by Geoffrey Hill.

Finally, was it three or four times that I went searching for the pileated woodpeckers reported on the east side of The Morton Arboretum? Never did see one. But it’s OK—finding that bird gives me yet another excuse to go birding in 2012.

I hope that you find lots of excuses, too. Make the time and get out there! Best wishes for a wonderful new year of birding and discovery.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Sage thrasher photo by Jerry Goldner

2011-11-15T20:33:00.004-06:00

October journal reveals the daily joys of birding
(published 11-15-11)

Well, that was fast. "The Big Year" came and went like a fall warbler in a hurry to go south. It didn’t hang around very long because box office duds never do. I liked the movie, did you?

"The Big Year" wasn’t the only thing birdy about October. For chirping out loud, the Cardinals even won the World Series.

For me, the month was defined by a string of short but satisfying bird encounters. Each one reminded me that it’s the seasonality—and the little surprises—that make this hobby so rewarding. These are my journal notes:

Oct. 2: I was playing catch with my son and heard the distant bugle of sandhill cranes. We looked up and soon located five birds swirling around, enjoying the warm sun just like us. November is prime time for “sandie” sightings, often in large migrating flocks, so be alert for these spectacular birds.

Oct. 8: My only full morning of birding. The site was St. James Farm Forest Preserve in Warrenville, where we’d moved the regular Cantigny Park bird walk—for variety and because St. James is new territory for most local birders. And that includes me. Until last June I’d never set foot inside the 600-acre preserve, located immediately south of Cantigny. It’s an “underbirded” venue with excellent habitat variety. Our band of 75 birders found 42 species (plus a coyote) on a day that felt more like summer.

For now, on most days, St. James is quiet. Public access began only in 2007, when the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County officially took possession of the property from the Brooks McCormick estate. Since then the preserve has gradually ramped up toward a goal of daily visitation, a process that continues today. St. James is open through November but then closes until Memorial Day weekend in 2012. It lacks a paved parking lot so winter visitation isn’t yet possible. Full 365-day access will likely begin sometime in 2013.

I made two more short visits to St. James in October. For natural beauty, history and birds (including wild turkeys), it’s a great place to go.

Oct. 13: I arrived home late from the DuPage Birding Club’s fundraising auction. As I unpacked the car, with the garage door still open, a great-horned owl hooted softly. I stepped onto the driveway in hopes of seeing the bird but never did. No doubt it saw me.

Oct. 14: The morning was special as the season’s first dark-eyed juncos appeared in my yard. These Canada nesters—some call them “snowbirds”—will be with us until late April. We are in the northern part of their wintering range. Marking their October arrival is an annual tradition.

Oct. 17: I stepped into the backyard after work to check the feeders. A hermit thrush flew up from the ground-level birdbath, and then I spotted what appeared to be a feathered mouse scurrying across the bluestone and into the peonies. It was of course a winter wren, a secretive species that goes undetected more often than not. October is a good time to see one and this year I was lucky.

Oct. 24: White-throated sparrows were regular in the yard from mid-October on, loving the millet I toss on the bare ground beyond my feeders. On this day, a pair of fox sparrows joined the feast. I noticed them at dusk and expected to see them again the next morning. Not to be, but another fox appeared the day before Halloween. One of my favorite sparrows.

Oct. 27: At the office, late afternoon. I check IBET, the online birding list-serve, and learn that a red-necked grebe was reported at Fermilab 30 minutes ago. Gee, that’s only 6 miles away.

By 4:15 I’m on the scene, standing at the edge of Lake Law with three other birders. Two of them have scopes fixed on the bird. Then more birders arrive, and a few more. It was a “lifer” for some, and it certainly felt like one for me. My only previous red-necked grebe was in Alaska in 2001, spotted from a moving train. This sighting was a lot more satisfying and enjoyed with friends. Nice.

Oct.28: Sometimes I just need a red-headed woodpecker fix. When that happens I know right where to go: behind the First Division Museum at Cantigny Park, in the big oaks. I took a walk at lunch and easily found my target. Was this the bird that spent the whole winter at Cantigny in 2010-2011? If yes, will it stay again? Hope so.

Oct. 29: A female white-crowned sparrow joins the backyard brunch. Hey, this millet trick really works! If you try it, start with just a few handfuls when the ground is dry.

Oct. 30: A rather late-for-the-season golden-crowned kinglet stopped by the yard. As kinglets will do, it flitted around in perpetual motion, like a bird that’s had way too much caffeine.

Now it’s November and the birding year is winding down. But it’s still an exciting time. Watch for those sandhill cranes, listen for owls, keep your feeders full, go on some bird walks and just enjoy whatever Mother Nature sends your way. The seasonality of birding is something to savor, one moment and one day at a time.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2011-10-04T13:40:00.003-05:00

Hollywood takes up birding with “The Big Year”
(published 10-4-11)

This could be the biggest thing in the birding world since the announced rediscovery of the ivory-billed woodpecker. I’m speaking of “The Big Year,” an upcoming movie based on a true story that is sure to capture the attention of birders and nonbirders alike.

Is America ready for this, a mainstream Hollywood movie about an over-the-top 365-day birding competition? We’ll soon find out. The film opens in theaters on Friday, October 14.

“The Big Year” was a popular conversation topic at the Midwest Birding Symposium last month in Ohio. Most of us who attended agreed that even if the movie lays an egg at the box office it will still bring a lot of attention to our hobby. People who don’t care a lick about birds will go see it, if only for the all-star cast. The main actors are Jack Black, Steve Martin and Owen Wilson.

“The Big Year” was first a bestselling book, superbly written by Mark Obmascik and published in 2004. It was so good that nonbirders read it, too. Excerpts appeared in Sports Illustrated. The book’s broad appeal was surely a consideration when 20th Century Fox decided to bring it to life on the silver screen.

That decision would lead to a dream come true for Greg Miller, one of the real-life characters in the book. He is not exactly a household name in birding circles—certainly not as famous as some other speakers at the Birding Symposium, including Pete Dunne and Kenn Kaufman. But Miller’s star is rising thanks to “The Big Year” movie. His character is played by Jack Black.

It was fun meeting Miller in Ohio, his home state, and chatting about his involvement with the movie. He was on location for 15 days in 2010 as a paid consultant, hired to show the main actors and extras how to look, act and speak like birders. For training, he even took Jack Black on a two-hour bird walk around Stanley Park in Vancouver, B.C. The actor was wowed by the bald eagles.

“I’m pretty un-Hollywood,” Miller said. On the set, “Jack went out of his way to make me feel accepted.”

Miller has not previewed the movie but feels confident that the “heartfelt comedy” will be accepted and enjoyed by birders. He thinks the birding scenes will be realistic and that viewers will not hear random out-of-place bird calls.

In the book, Miller was the one you rooted for, the underdog. His goal was to break the standing North American record for most birds listed in a calendar year (721 species). It was 1998. But unlike his wealthy and retired competitors, Miller was short on cash and pinched for time because he worked for a living. This made his quest a lot more remarkable.

Miller says “The Big Year” film script deviates in many ways from the book. One of the biggest differences is that the story is set in the present. So the actors are seen using modern technology that makes birdfinding today faster and easier—GPS and smart phones, for example.

Air travel, of course, was much different in 1998. Back then, Miller and his two competitors had no problem dashing through airports, hopping on last-minute flights to far-off places. They left a huge carbon footprint but the practice enabled all three to rack up more than 700 bird species for the year, an astounding achievement.

“The Big Year” will surely be entertaining, but will it make our hobby look silly? Miller doesn’t think so, because the story isn’t just about birding. Like the book cover says, it’s “A Tale of Man, Nature, and Fowl Obsession.”

“The thing that I’m most thrilled about is the effect it had on people who are not birders,” said Miller, speaking of his on-set experience. He noted that four out of the 170 people working on the movie became new birders, purchasing their own field guides and binoculars. If the same conversion rate applies to those who watch the movie, “The Big Year” will have a huge positive impact on birdwatching.

Like Miller, I’m all for growing the hobby. Maybe Hollywood—and Jack, Steve and Owen—can help. I’ll be thinking about that when I buy my ticket and popcorn.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Photo of Jack Black and Greg Miller by Cam Shaw, Tofino, BC

2011-09-21T08:35:00.003-05:00

Taking young birders under our wings
(published 9-20-11)

In 2008, I applied to be a Boy Scout merit badge counselor. I submitted to a criminal background check, took the required Youth Protection Training, paid my fee and purchased a badge booklet at a Scout supply store. I was ready to serve.

Well, apparently Bird Study is not a very popular merit badge. The phone never rang. After a year without a single inquiry, I let my counselor status lapse.

None of this is too surprising. On local field trips, birders under the age of 20 are about as common as mockingbirds in Illinois. We hope to see them but rarely do.

The monthly bird walk at Cantigny Park last month had a theme: “Take a Kid Birding Day.” Adults were encouraged to invite a child, a grandchild, a neighbor kid or any young person who might have an interest in birds. We were ready, with plenty of adult leaders ready to share their skills. The park even purchased 50 copies of the “Peterson First Guide to Birds of North America” so that each child would have a book to use and take home.

Turns out, two books would have sufficed.

We all know that getting kids interested in nature—or just getting them outdoors—can be a challenge. The really encouraging thing, though, is that the two 11-year-old girls at Cantigny last month were enthusiastic, and it was by no means their first birding experience. By the end of the walk they’d exchanged e-mail addresses.

Seeing those girls reaffirmed my belief that kids and birds are a good fit. It’s fun to see them get excited about sights and sounds that most of us take for granted. The key is to keep them interested by offering more opportunities for birding and steady encouragement as they explore the hobby.

This is already happening, a good example being Illinois Young Birders. The club, ILYB for short, was founded in March 2010 as a special project by the Illinois Ornithological Society. So far it has about 30 youth members as well as adult supporting members and partner members such as the DuPage Birding Club.

“The social element of our club is very important,” says Brian Herriott, ILYB coordinator. “Often, children that develop a great interest in a hobby like birding soon find that there are few peers who share that interest.

“As an adult birder, some of my most valued friendships are my ‘birding buddies.’ I want members of ILYB to experience the same joy that I have of sharing the wonder of birds with friends and family.”

The club is for ages 9 to 18. Organized field trips are the major benefit of membership, and parents are welcome on all of them. To learn more, visit illinoisyoungbirders.org. The next 20 youth members to join will receive a free copy of “Birds of Illinois,” a terrific book (for all ages) by Sheryl DeVore and Stephen Bailey.

Another book I recommend is “The Young Birder’s Guide to Birds of Eastern North America,” by Bill Thompson III. There is nothing else like it—fun and light, but still very useful.

Kids need decent binoculars, too, and some models are better for young birders than others. A good source is Eagle Optics, a Wisconsin-based mail order house that caters to birders. The Eagle website offers helpful information about binocular buying in general. But what I absolutely love is their package deals for young birders. The “Young Naturalist Kit,” for example, includes a good binocular for small hands and a copy of Thompson’s book, all for $130. Shipping is free. There’s another value-priced package geared to slightly older youth birders.

To be sure, getting kids into birding is not expensive. Guided bird walks are almost always free, and there are many to choose from. For ideas, check out the DuPage Birding Club website and the newsletter of the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County.

Willowbrook Wildlife Center in Glen Ellyn offers some excellent youth programs. Kids can get up-close looks at the center’s resident birds, too, including hawks, owls and eagles.

Not all outings are suited to children but most bird walks offer plenty of guidance. Many birders really enjoy sharing the hobby with youngsters.

Don’t overlook the backyard either! Watching birds at home is an easy way to develop a child’s interest. Encourage him or her to notice what’s coming and going, and to keep a list of sightings. The list will grow quickly, especially if you have feeders. Try offering a few different kinds of food and also a birdbath. Keep the field guide and binoculars in a handy place.

I know it sounds obvious, but the future of our hobby—and bird conservation—really depends on getting more young people interested in birds. Let’s all do our part to bring them along.

Me? I recently joined ILYB as a supporting member and also reregistered with the Scouts. I’m a Bird Study counselor again. When the phone rings, I’ll be ready.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2011-08-14T09:28:00.002-05:00

Migrating nighthawks provide a late summer spectacle
(published 8-14-11)

There is an iconic work called “Nighthawks” hanging at the Art Institute of Chicago. The Edward Hopper masterpiece is dark and a little mysterious. I’ve always liked it, including the name.

The painting has nothing to do with birds, of course. The “Nighthawks” are those three customers in the diner. But the picture always reminds me of one of my favorite birds, the common nighthawk. I’ve been watching them since the mid-1990s when I saw my first ones in Chicago. Later this month I’ll be admiring them all over again—a yearly ritual that never gets old.

I love telling new birders about the nighthawk because it’s often a bird they not familiar with and yet one that is easily observed. Mid-to-late August through early September is the peak viewing time for this area. Go outside around dusk and with a little patience you are almost certain to see one or more common nighthawks cruising by. With luck, you might see a large flock.

I’ll never forget an ice cream social we attended at Benjamin Franklin Elementary School in Glen Ellyn about 8 years ago. It was and maybe still is an annual event, held on the evening of the first day of school. It was good to see old friends, meet Rachel’s new teacher and have a sweet treat. But what I remember most is the nighthawks. Gobs of them were swirling overhead, feeding on the wing. Conditions evidently were perfect for this avian phenomenon.

“Pete Dunne’s Essential Field Guide Companion” describes the common nighthawk as “a wheeling, drunken-looking, falcon-like bird feeding high overhead at dawn and dusk.” The longish, pointy wings are what liken the nighthawk to a falcon, but the species is not related to falcons or even hawks. Nighthawks belong to a family of birds called the nightjars, which includes the whip-poor-will.

Something I just learned is that common nighthawks are also closely related to owls in terms of DNA composition and morphological structure.

Dunne’s “drunken” reference relates to the nighthawk’s distinctive flight pattern. The wing beat is irregular, resulting in a floppy but darting aerial behavior that is very entertaining to watch. The birds are catching insects, which they accomplish by flying straight into them with their mouth and throat wide open.

The body of a common nighthawk is about the same size as a robin but their long wings make them appear much larger. What you may notice first is the white patches near the end of their wings. These markings are obvious so identification is easy in good light.

As you get to know nighthawks better, you’ll be able to ID them by sound, too. They have a one-of-a-kind call that is loud and buzzy—“beeeez’t,” according to Dunne.

In my last column I mentioned hearing that sound after a June baseball game in Iowa. I never did see a nighthawk that evening but it was cool to know they were in our midst. Like giant moths, the birds are attracted to the bright lights of stadiums and parking lots, where flying insects are plentiful.

Occasionally you might see a nighthawk in broad daylight. Once I spotted one during an afternoon ballgame at Wrigley Field. The bird landed at the base of one of the light towers and that’s still the only time I’ve ever seen a nighthawk sitting still!

Nighthawks are virtually invisible during the day, which gives them another thing in common with owls. Their bark-like coloration helps them blend in with their surroundings, keeping them safe from predators as they roost on the ground or on tree branches. Occasionally they will perch diagonally on a wire. On branches they perch lengthwise. (It’s not just the nighthawk’s flight style that is quirky.)

The common nighthawks we’ll see this month in DuPage County are migrating. They have a long journey ahead, so all those bugs they’re eating will serve as fuel. Their destination is South America, on the east side of the Andes from Ecuador to Argentina.

To see these fascinating birds on their way, start watching the skies after 6 p.m. If you have a decent amount of open sky the backyard patio will do just fine. You’ll likely see some solitary birds flying quite low and maybe some swirling flocks up higher. Calm, clear evenings are best for viewing. Give it a try!

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Common nighthawk photo by Dave Irving

2011-07-13T11:50:00.004-05:00

In the car, at the ballpark, always birding
(published 7-13-11)

Birdwatching and birding are the same thing. I believe that. But there is a sense within the hobby that “birding” is a little more serious. So a few years ago the DuPage Birding Club asked its members to contribute ideas about what makes a birder. Their responses, published in the club newsletter, revealed a level of obsession that nonbirders would find amusing if not call-the-cops alarming.

One of the tamer entries came from my friend Jerry Z. He said you know you’re a birder when “you’re the one looking at the sky while everyone else is fixed on the national monument you’ve all traveled to see.”

I thought of that last month when attending a baseball game with my son at Busch Stadium in St. Louis. The Cardinals were playing the Blue Jays, so the evening had an avian quality to it from the start.

Before and during the game I was pleasantly distracted by cliff swallows. The sky over the emerald field and bright red seats was full of them. Every now and then I’d spot a barn swallow, too. Was anybody else seeing this?

Baseball can be a slow game, and that’s not a complaint. I like the pace. There is plenty of time between pitches to look around and notice things, like birds. Jay and I each observed a robin grazing in left field during the game, and I kept an eye on those swallows until nightfall settled in and the aerial feeding frenzy ended.

Busch was the first stop on our six-day baseball road trip through Missouri and Iowa. My binoculars were in the trunk just in case but I didn’t intend to use them. This trip was not for the birds. It was about father-son bonding, baseball, hot dogs, silly jokes and hotel pools.

But of course every day contains birding opportunities. There is always something to see.

Naturally I began a mental “trip list” as soon as we left the driveway in Glen Ellyn. Watching for birds while driving may at first seem unsafe but I think it keeps me more alert. The key is staying focused on what’s ahead, not to the sides. No rubbernecking! By the time we reached Lincoln’s tomb in Springfield I’d already spotted 15 species, including a flyover green heron.

Car birding can really test of your identification skills. You often only have a second or two to assimilate clues such as size, body shape, flight pattern and color. Habitat is one of the best clues of all. Red-winged blackbirds, for example, America’s most abundant species, show a strong preference for roadside ditches and fences. Turkey vultures soar above, looking for roadkill. Bridges attract swallows and pigeons.

The list grew quickly as the miles went by. I saw a kestrel hovering, getting set to drop down on unsuspecting prey. Also in the air, easy to see and ID: great blue herons, cormorants and an egret. Starlings, grackles, robins and mourning doves were abundant. Baltimore orioles zipped over the highway like orange and black comets.

At Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City, as at Busch, cliff swallows were part of the entertainment. We sat high in the upper deck so most of the bird action was at eye level. Down on the field, the Royals defeated the Cubs.

Throughout our time in western Missouri I was hoping to spot a scissor-tailed flycatcher. We were at the northern edge of the usual range for this species, the state bird of Oklahoma. And because it likes to perch on wires, viewing one at 65 mph seemed possible. Well, no such luck, but we did see a few roadside mockingbirds.

On our second-to-last day we stopped in tiny Van Meter, Iowa, to visit the Bob Feller Museum. An osprey was circling a small reservoir as we exited I-70, just west of Des Moines—a nice addition to the trip list! As we left the museum I heard the loud trill of a chipping sparrow. I’m not always “tuned in” like some birders but that one was easy.

The last game on our road trip was in Davenport, home to the Quad Cities River Bandits. Their little ballpark is a gem, hard along the Mississippi River with a view of Centennial Bridge. It’s a minor league version of PNC Park in Pittsburgh, but without the large buildings. In the Steel City, however, you’d never enjoy close views of American white pelicans flying by as we did at Modern Woodmen Park. What an unexpected treat it was to see these huge, magnificent birds.

After the game, in the parking lot, I picked up the buzzy call of a common nighthawk. Jay and I looked skyward, scanning to find the source of this classic sound of summer. Some onlookers probably wondered what we were doing. Maybe a few thought we were a little batty.

No matter. As I said myself in that DuPage Birding Club survey: “You know you’re a birder when you no longer care what the neighbors think.”

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
American white pelican photo by Dick Yamasaki

2011-06-13T20:23:00.002-05:00

Another field guide might be just what you need
(published 6-13-11)

Does anybody besides me remember watching a birding show on PBS? It was a series, about 10 years ago, hosted by Don and Lillian Stokes. I loved that show. But since it aired around five in the morning I always taped it and watched it later. Yes, taped it, with a cool device called a VCR!

The Stokes series ended but the plucky husband and wife team are still very active in the birding community. Some of us had the thrill of meeting them last month at a DuPage Birding Club meeting held at Cantigny Park. It was a fun night, and the audience of 200 treated Don and Lillian like rock stars. At the very least they are birding celebrities, well known not only for the TV show but for numerous books and bird song CDs over the years and even Stokes-brand binoculars.

The Wheaton appearance was all about an extraordinary new book: “The Stokes Field Guide to the Birds of North America.” In tag-team fashion, Don and Lillian talked about its creation, a six-year project, and showed how and why the guide is different than others on the market.

The bright orange 792-page brick with a painted bunting on the cover (Lillian’s favorite bird) was impossible to resist—for me and for 94 other birders who lined up to buy a copy and have it signed by America’s best known birding couple. Others brought along copies they’d purchased when the book first appeared last fall.

Some birders collect field guides, old and new. Others, like me, accumulate them. I own the Sibley, Peterson, National Geographic, Golden, Smithsonian and Audubon guides. And now the Stokes. My library includes several classic guides picked up at used book sales, and a reprint of Roger Tory Peterson’s original “Field Guide to the Birds,” published in 1934.

I may have more books than I really need, but I do use them all—sometimes in the field but mostly at home. They are amazing resources for learning about birds, including the common ones. At least one guide is usually parked on my nightstand.

No two field guides are alike. If you are looking to buy one, by all means go to a bookstore and see all the choices. The two basic formats are illustrated and photographic. Like many birders I generally prefer the illustrated books, like the Sibley or Peterson. They show you how “typical” members of a species should look because the pictures are drawn or painted, and key field marks are emphasized.

The new Stokes book is photographic. There are 3,400 images in all, about 500 of them taken by Lillian herself. This is far more than any previous national field guide. A top priority was to show more flight photos and sure enough 800 shots are of birds on the wing. Some will take your breath away, including Lillian’s pileated woodpecker image on the back cover.

The Stokes guide is notable for more than just its outstanding pictures. One of my favorite features is the rarity code given for each species. The 1 to 6 scale, established by the American Birding Association, indicates the ease of finding a bird in its normal range. This information is especially handy when birding in new places. I also like that each photo is labeled with the month and state in which it was taken, in the lower right corner.

For me, the Stokes book will be a stay-at-home reference. It’s simply too thick and heavy to carry in the field. At the Cantigny presentation, Don and Lillian showed a picture of the guide on the front seat of a car, with a seat belt around it. Keeping your copy safe is an excellent idea—it’s that good.

Another new field guide that I’m eager to investigate further is “The Crossley ID Guide,” by Richard Crossley. This book, for Eastern U.S. birds only, is being heavily marketed as “revolutionary” in design. It features large, lifelike scenes for each species, digitally composed from the author’s photographs. There are 640 scenes, created from more than 10,000 photos. The birds are shown in their usual habitats at different distances, stationary and in flight, giving the reader a good sense of size, shape and behavior. It’s an appealing format with minimal text.

When David Sibley’s book appeared in 2000, it seemed like no other field guide would ever be necessary. It was and still is a masterful work. I see the Eastern birds version on the trails more than any other resource, and the original full-size version, national in scope, is a permanent resident of many back seats and trunks.

But here we are in 2011 and new guides with true innovations are still being printed. As birders, are we lucky or what? And of course many birders now prefer to carry an electronic guide, loaded on a mobile device. In addition to pictures, range maps and everything else a traditional field guide provides, they have the songs and call notes of the birds at their fingertips. That’s nice but so far I’m still a “birding without batteries” advocate.

At home I’m all about technology, like that VCR I mentioned before. It still works! Fortunately we have a DVD player too because Lillian and Don Stokes said they plan to release all 26 episodes of the “Stokes Birds at Home” series this fall. Like another new field guide, the boxed set will be hard for me to pass up.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2011-05-29T12:21:00.003-05:00

Searching for big birds with little birders
(published 5-31-11)

It was nearly 80 degrees, unusually windy and two o’clock in the afternoon—not exactly ideal birding conditions.

On the plus side, the calendar said April 10. Spring migration was well underway, so there would be plenty of birds around. Hopefully some big ones, too.

Yes, big ones, because I was about to lead a group of Cub Scouts from St. Charles on a bird walk at Cantigny Park. My experience with guiding youngsters is slim, but this I know: large birds are easier to see. Better to show kids without birding experience a great blue heron standing by a pond than a warbler flitting around in the treetops.

Oh, and the turkeys! The boys would love seeing those. Wild turkeys are sort of a way of life at Cantigny these days. It’s quite common to see one or two birds pecking around the buildings or under the bird feeders. Sometimes a flock of 10 or more birds will appear, perhaps wandering over from St. James Farm.

I didn’t mention the turkeys during my pre-walk comments to the boys—the park was full of people so maybe the gobblers would be laying low. But before setting off I did ask the Scouts about their favorite birds. Eagles, hawks, vultures and owls, they told me. Big, awesome birds—the kind all little boys seem to like. Pack 151, Den 3, would not be impressed by a ruby-crowned kinglet.

OK, enough talk, time to go find some birds. The Scouts, some parents and a few siblings followed me east from the Visitor Center, toward the rose garden and prairie. My 10-year-old son, Jay, tagged along too, documenting the adventure with the family Nikon.

Chickadees, robins and cowbirds gave themselves away first, allowing the kids some practice with their loaner binoculars. Soon we were on the wood chip trail that runs between the Scout campsites and the golf course. The trees give this area some shelter from the wind, and it’s good habitat for woodpeckers and nuthatches.

What happened next was remarkable—a miracle of good timing. A large brown bird swooped toward us through the woods and landed fairly close, in plain view. Wait a minute. No way. At this time of day? Sure enough, it was a great-horned owl!

Just seconds after the owl landed, a huge turkey vulture performed a low flyover, not far above the owl itself. I had the sense that little jaws were dropping to my left and right.

But in a moment the vulture was gone. Now, as the leader, I wanted to make sure all the boys had a good look at the owl before it was too late. How many of them, I wondered, had ever seen one in the wild? This was a truly exceptional opportunity. Fortunately, the big not-so-nocturnal raptor stayed put, apparently as curious about us as we were about him.

Even for me, this was a first. With help from the DuPage Birding Club, I’ve been leading monthly walks at Cantigny for almost three years. On those walks we’ve never encountered a great-horned owl. Not once. Seldom have I seen one in broad daylight anywhere.

We watched the bird for about 10 minutes. It was clear that anything else we might see would be a bonus—the walk was an official success. Up the path we observed bluebirds, flickers and red-bellied woodpeckers. Beautiful birds, all of them, but nothing was going to upstage Mr. Hoots.

Our search party never did spot a turkey. We also struck out (or “dipped,” as the say in Britain) on red-headed woodpecker, another Cantigny Park specialty. Trust me, the boys didn’t mind. We were now outside the First Division Museum. Enough of this bird business; it was time to climb on tanks and make some noise!

No offense taken. We’d had a good hour of birdwatching and that’s plenty long enough for most second graders.

The parents soon pried the Scouts off the tanks and marched them over to the Cantigny picnic grounds. Time was short. They had a schedule to keep. After dinner the boys were going fishing at Blackwell Forest Preserve.

Birds had been a small part of their busy day. Would they even remember what they’d seen? Would any of them ask to go on a bird walk again? Maybe or maybe not. But there’s something else I know: It only takes one bird to create a spark, and close encounters with big, awesome, yellow-eyed raptors are not easily forgotten.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Photo by Jay Reiter

2011-04-13T12:06:00.002-05:00

Exciting birds are right outside your door
(published 4-12-11)

Broadly speaking, there are two kinds of birding—at home and away from home. Yard birding and field birding. Like most birders I enjoy them both.

Today’s column is about the backyard, where many of us spend the majority of our birdwatching hours and minutes. On busy days just a glance at the feeders is better than no birding at all!

It’s personal, too. The yard is your space and those are your birds out there. Whatever you see is because you took the time to look, and making the identification is your call. It’s a great feeling to see something special right outside your kitchen window.

For me, keeping a record of backyard sightings is a big part of the fun. If you are not maintaining a yard list too, I urge you to start. It can add to your enjoyment of the hobby and it will definitely sharpen your observation skills.

My Glen Ellyn backyard is small and average. It is surrounded by other houses. And yet, after nearly 14 years in this location, my yard list is up to 110 species. The more you watch the more you see, and I spend a lot of time watching.

There are no official rules, but most birders define a “yard bird” as any species seen on or from one’s property. That opens up a lot of possibilities. In fact, over time, most yard birds will not be those that visit your feeders. The majority will be the birds you see flying over, or the birds you spot flitting around your trees and shrubs during the spring and fall migration seasons. Birds in your neighbor’s yard count too, but watch where you point those binoculars!

Feeders, birdbaths and bird-friendly plantings will increase species variety on your property. Offer them, by all means. However, my logbook shows that through the years only about 30 species have visited my yard because of something I did to attract them. Most sightings are random occurrences, resulting from steady observation and sometimes just dumb luck.

Keeping a “year list” adds another fun dimension to yard birding, and I’ve been doing it every year since 2003. There’s the challenge of seeing how many species you can observe—my best so far is 88, in 2007—plus the data are useful for tracking seasonal patterns or changes from year to year. I know people who could pinpoint the latest date in April that they’ve ever seen a junco in their yard. Birders thrive on this type of information; it’s in our DNA.

In recent years my interest has tended more toward adding new birds to the list—something that is getting harder and harder to do. In 2010 I added red-headed woodpecker and two kinds of warblers, blue-winged and golden-winged. All three sightings gave me a thrill that is hard to describe.

I guess it’s partly about beating the odds. Seeing a golden-winged warbler anywhere around here takes a fair amount of luck. They are quite uncommon. So what are the chances of finding one in your own suburban backyard? Very slim, but freak sightings happen all the time.

One I’ll never forget is the bright yellow prothonotary warbler that stopped by in April 2008. That bird—“a golden bird of wooded swamps” as Roger Tory Peterson famously described it—was way out of place. I was incredibly lucky to be outside at just the right moment.

The same is true about the belted kingfisher that once rattled by, or the wood ducks that landed on my neighbor’s chimney. Once, and so far only once, a peregrine falcon wowed me with a high-altitude flyover.

This spring I’m on the lookout for more first-time visitors and passersby. But I’ll also be enjoying the parade of interesting migrating species that make April and May the best time of year for birdwatching. This is an ideal time to begin your own yard list. You may be surprised by how quickly it grows.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
White-crowned sparrow photo by Jim Frazier

2011-03-29T10:23:00.005-05:00

A Florida lifer, and one that got away
(published 3-29-11)

A day after the big blizzard in February, I did the sensible thing and flew to Miami. It was a pre-planned trip to visit my parents in Key Largo. There would be some golf, a Super Bowl party and, of course, plenty of amazing birds.

Golf is really just another birding opportunity, especially in Florida. My binoculars were always within reach. At one point I was walking down a fairway with a magnificent frigatebird soaring directly above me, mockingbirds singing from the gumbo limbo trees and a flock of white ibis pecking away in the rough. These were most welcome distractions!

On Super Sunday mom and I took a drive to Everglades National Park. I’d been there at least five times before but it never gets old. And this time I saw something new—nesting American anhingas. A thriving rookery was eye-level and only a few feet off the Anhinga Trail boardwalk at Royal Palm. Alligators lurked in the dark water below the nests. I wondered if the anhinga chicks, some of them with featherless pink heads, perceived the danger just below them. I’m sure the adults did.

Just outside the park is an unmarked woodlot known to birders as Lucky Hammock—a local hotspot akin to the Magic Hedge on the Chicago lakefront. Some photographers with very large lenses were on site when we arrived. Either there’d been a Bigfoot sighting or an interesting bird was present. It was the latter, in the form of a brown-crested flycatcher—a western species that occasionally winters in South Florida. I’d have loved to see the bird but had to settle for just hearing it call from deep inside the hammock.

The best birding, I knew, was yet to come. I’d built in some time at the end of my trip for a visit to central Florida. I’d been to this region twice before on family vacations to Disney World. This time I’d have an afternoon to explore a different magic kingdom: Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge.

Adjacent to the Kennedy Space Center, about 40 miles east of Orlando, Merritt Island is Florida’s top birding destination. It didn’t take long to see why.

My top priority was to locate the preserve’s signature bird, the Florida scrub-jay. This is Florida’s only endemic species—a bird that occurs nowhere else in the world. It is endangered, but fortunately not difficult to observe; like other members of the jay family, it’s not shy. A ranger at the Merritt Island visitor center told me exactly where to go look and within 30 minutes I had my lifer scrub-jay. Yes!

Another must-see at Merritt is Black Point Wildlife Drive, a seven-mile self-guided auto tour through salt and freshwater marshes. Birders (and nature photographers) could easily spend an entire day here. My time was limited so I really had to push myself to keep from stopping at every available parking area. There was one large pond in particular that was absolutely loaded with waterfowl and wading birds. Highlights were reddish egret, American avocet and a nice assortment of ducks including many northern pintail. The skies were full too, with bald eagles, ospreys, herons and vultures.

Another great Merritt moment awaited near the end of Wildlife Drive where a cluster of glossy ibis feeding in shallow water. The late afternoon sun was showing off their iridescent plumage to perfection.

It was painful pointing my car away from Merritt Island but I needed to be in Orlando for a work-related event that evening. The consolation was that I’d have time for more birding the next morning before heading to the airport.

The Orlando area offers many fine birding opportunities. I settled on the Disney Wilderness Preserve, a 12,000-acre property near Kissimmee owned and managed by The Nature Conservancy. It opened in 1992 through an agreement with Walt Disney Company.

The morning of my visit was quiet—I never saw another person on the trail! But I did see lots of birds. My favorite sighting was a family of limpkin, on the edge of the preserve’s Lake Russell. I’d never seen this Florida specialty quite so well, and in such a wild setting. Other interesting birds were loggerhead shrike, tufted titmouse, wood stork and sandhill crane.

With more luck I might have seen my first red-cockaded woodpecker. The Nature Conservancy successfully introduced this highly endangered species at the Disney preserve four years ago.

Another hoped-for species was Bachman’s sparrow, and my desire to see it probably cost me a life bird. I’m a little embarrassed to even tell this story but here goes. I was nearing the end of the walk, coping with an annoying drizzle, when I encountered a mystery bird. It was a sparrow of some kind, perched near the trail and looking very soggy. I studied it for several minutes, trying to memorize its features and markings. Could this be a Bachman’s? I’d check my Sibley guide when I got back to the car. The bird finally flew off and I headed in.

I soon realized the bird was not a Bachman’s sparrow but was almost certainly a vesper sparrow—another species missing from my life list. If only I had watched more carefully when the bird flew! Then I might have seen the white outer tail feathers that are conspicuous on a vesper.

The other mistake I made was not spending a few minutes perusing the preserve’s bird checklist before hitting the trail. If I’d done so I would have known that vesper sparrows are winter residents on the preserve. A valuable clue had been right in my pocket!

Despite flunking the vesper sparrow challenge I left the Disney Wilderness Preserve in high spirits. It was a fun morning at a wonderful birding spot. It’s also the kind of place that feels good to support, especially if you are a fan of The Nature Conservancy like me. Go there if you ever have the chance.

Now it was time to head back to the frozen north. But before surrendering the rental car I needed to satisfy a craving. One exit before Orlando International, there it was, a Waffle House beckoning me to a seat at the counter. My pecan waffle was a sweet ending to a warm and bird-filled week.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Florida scrub jay photo by Travis Wilcoxen

2011-02-11T15:59:00.003-06:00

Sport or hobby? Birding is anything we choose
(published 2-7-11)

I love ESPN, even though I don’t watch it at home. It’s not part of our bare-basic cable package. But at the YMCA, when I'm using the treadmill, SportsCenter is my best friend. Especially during baseball season.

Of course there is more to ESPN than SportsCenter. On a recent Saturday the network featured a turkey shoot. The clicker was out of reach that morning so I watched.

I’m not a hunter, but I’m not against hunting either. Birding and hunting can easily coexist. In fact, one of America’s best-known birders, Pete Dunne, is also a gunner. I’m sure that he shares my admiration for the way waterfowlers support habitat management through the federal “duck stamp” program. Many birders who never lift a shotgun buy a stamp every year and I count myself among them.

So I wasn’t offended by the turkey shoot, just surprised. First of all, it didn’t seem all that sporting. In segment after segment, hunters would sneak up on a grazing bird and shoot it. Surely there is more skill involved than came across on TV.

The hunters’ reactions after taking down a bird surprised me even more. They laughed and smiled and traded high fives. Being on camera, perhaps they were hamming it up a little. But the scenes reminded me of how birdwatchers sometimes celebrate after spotting a mega-rarity.

As birders, we have more in common with hunters than we might care to admit. We don't kill, but we certainly hunt. We get up early, we go outside, we hike, we carry binoculars, we buy duck stamps and a few of us (not me!) even wear camo clothing. I’ve often thought that birders and fishermen share a few tendencies as well.

Not that it really matters, but maybe, just maybe, the hobby we love is also a sport.

Sports Illustrated once featured birdwatching on its cover. May 16, 1955. The magazine also published cover stories that year about archery, skin diving and hot-air ballooning. Dogs made the cover three times, as did the Princeton University marching band.

Earlier, in 1934, the great Roger Tory Peterson referred to “the sport of birding” in his groundbreaking Field Guide to the Birds. He added: “Field birding as most of us engage in it is a game—a most absorbing game.”

Roger that, RTP! He was talking about listing fever, of course, and the desire many of us have to see as many bird species as possible. It’s a side of birding that truly does approach the realm of sport. Annual tournaments like the World Series of Birding in New Jersey and the Great Texas Birding Classic crown teams that see or hear the most birds in 24 hours. (Such events are not just for fun; they are important fundraisers for bird conservation.)

Examples of the birding “game” needn’t be so extreme. The game, if you prefer, might be as simple as watching bird feeders from your kitchen table, keeping track of what stops by. Or maybe it’s “competing” against an existing list. I record what we see on the monthly bird walks at Cantigny Park and like to compare our results with those from the same month, one year earlier. It provides a benchmark and heightens my awareness of the seasonality of local bird populations.

So, game, sport or hobby? Call it what you wish—birding is a bit of all three. I happen to favor “hobby” because it seems broader and more inclusive. Would this column fit better in the Sports section than in Neighbor? Not in my opinion.

Birding is many things to many people, and that’s a big part of its appeal. It’s a backyard activity for some and a worldwide pursuit for others. It’s personal and social, sedentary and active, indoors and outdoors, casual and highly organized. You can be a competitive lister, a passive lister or choose to keep no lists at all. Whatever you want from birding, it’s out there.

Well, there is one thing missing. Some day I’d like to step on that treadmill and see a birdwatching show on ESPN. I’d even give up SportsCenter for that.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2011-01-06T10:21:00.002-06:00

Winter birding rewards those willing to bundle up
(published 1-6-11)

It wasn’t a Christmas Count bird—a few days late for that. It wasn’t a “lifer” either. But it was a bird I’d been waiting to see for a long time. Almost 11 years, in fact.

My last column, you might recall, featured a fine photo of a Northern shrike. I included it on a short list of birds that I’d only observed once and longed to see again. Turns out my wish came true a lot sooner than expected.

Just before Christmas I received a tip from a friend who’d been walking at McDowell Grove Forest Preserve in Naperville. He didn’t see a shrike but he told me about a birder he met on the trail that had just seen two. They were spotted in the open area on the east side of the 515-acre preserve.

Two days later I went to check it out. My hopes were high but tempered by the reality that Northern shrikes can be elusive. The species visits here only in winter and most birders go out of their way for a chance to see one. Those who succeed sometimes perform silly dances to celebrate their luck. It’s that kind of bird.

I wore my dancing shoes just in case. From the McDowell Grove parking lot I walked east to the “prairie”—perfect shrike habitat. A scan of the terrain paid off immediately. In the distance, on top of a tall bare tree, was a bird with a longish tail. Shrikes prefer high, open perches, so my heart beat a little faster. I moved in to get a better view. The bird stayed put just long enough to confirm the ID—my first Northern shrike since January 2000, when I glimpsed one for about 15 seconds at Crabtree Nature Center in Barrington.

I didn’t actually do a jig. A little fist pump maybe. Then I marched on, hoping to see the shrike again. About a half hour later it reappeared, this time on the peak of a small bur oak in the middle of the prairie. This was my best look yet of the black-masked bandit that preys upon small birds and rodents. At that moment I’m certain that Northern shrike was my new favorite bird.

A bit later I savored my good fortune over a bracing cup of joe at McDonald’s. Maybe there was something in my coffee but I found myself getting sentimental about winter birding. I thought about how some of my best memories from this hobby were born on cold mornings and afternoons when a birder’s only reasonable expectation would be a few cardinals, chickadees and juncos. I recalled the snowy owls on the Chicago lakefront, the Lapland longspurs in Kane County, and once, just once, the common redpolls that visited my backyard thistle feeder.

And then there’s Morton Arboretum, the best winter gift giver of all. I owe the Arb for my first ever saw-whet owl, Townsend’s solitaire and white-winged crossbill. And I owe my fellow birders who guided me to those birds.

Winter is indeed full of surprising avian gifts. Just a few days before my shrike hike I dropped hand warmers into my gloves and joined the Fermilab Christmas Bird Count (CBC) team covering Cantigny in Wheaton. Despite bitter conditions we found two red-headed woodpeckers—a species we never expected on December 18. Only three were seen that day in the designated 15-mile diameter count circle centered at Fermilab in Batavia.

Our Cantigny search of the park and golf course yielded 27 species. Included were eight Eastern bluebirds, five yellow-rumped warblers and one purple finch. (No partridge in a pear tree but we did tack on two wild turkeys.)

Nearly 100 other Christmas Counters were out working the trails and they too had some good stories for the evening buffet. Would you believe 20 bald eagles? Four sapsuckers? Two hooded mergansers? Three Carolina wrens? Oh, and five chipping sparrows—the first “chippies” for the Fermilab CBC since 1977!

I was surprised as well by the 33 red-winged blackbirds that were counted. Who knew they were even here in the winter? Not me.

When reviewing CBC data—all of which are turned over to the National Audubon Society—I always look for species with a “1” next to their names. These tend to be premium, hard-to-find birds. The Fermilab CBC featured seven one-timers: tufted titmouse, Eastern meadowlark, rusty blackbird, red crossbill, black-crowned night heron, sharp-shinned hawk and, yes, one Northern shrike.

Such exciting discoveries keep the thrill factor high in winter birding. Staying warm can be a challenge, and finding uncommon or rare birds is seldom easy, but the potential rewards are great. The first step is getting out there.

I posted my McDowell Grove shrike sighting on IBET, the region’s birding list-serve, which in turn motivated at least three other birders to conduct their own searches at McDowell. All three succeeded on their first try, which happened to be Christmas Eve morning. I suspect they were dancing like elves.

Copyright 2011 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Yellow-rumped warbler photo by Greg Hull

2010-12-08T09:22:00.003-06:00

Notes from another interesting year of birds and birding
(published 12-7-10)

As I like to say every December, it was a good year to be a birder! Allow me to reflect a little bit on 2010 and share a few random thoughts and observations.

It seemed like a banner year for blue jays and cedar waxwings—two of the best-dressed birds in the neighborhood . . .

My favorite backyard regular, the red-breasted nuthatch, is at the bottom of the pecking order. When one is on the peanut feeder, and a red-bellied woodpecker swoops in, it’s like a Matchbox giving way to a Tonka. But the little guy always comes back . . .

Chickadees are always checking out my hummingbird feeder. Are they too attracted to the color red? I think they are just curious . . .

My all-time yard list grew by three this year: red-headed woodpecker, blue-winged warbler and golden-winged warbler. Yes, the birding gods were properly thanked . . .

While I’m skirting the “anything is possible” category, did you hear about the American anhinga that was sighted over DuPage County on November 18? Or what about that summer tanager that showed up in Gurnee on Veterans Day? Reports like these always make my day . . .

I’ve heard great-horned owls hooting in my neighborhood 11 times so far in 2010. I’m a birder. I take notes. I keep lists . . .

Twitter. It sounds so birdy and yet I just can’t make myself use it . . .

My favorite field trip in 2010 was to Horicon Marsh in Wisconsin. It’s our closest National Wildlife Refuge and the birding is superb. Be sure to take the pontoon boat tour . . .

Dang, I totally missed International Vulture Awareness Day on September 4th . . .

The Illinois Young Birders Club was founded in March. What a great idea and kudos to the Illinois Ornithological Society for getting it off the ground . . .

Five Christmas gift ideas: peanut feeder, heated bird bath, better binoculars, 365 Birds calendar and a copy of the awesome new Stokes field guide—the one with the painted bunting on the cover . . .

Speaking of Don and Lillian Stokes, mark your calendar: The DuPage Birding Club is bringing them here to speak and sign books on May 12. Watch the club’s website for time and location. Non-members are welcome . . .

Something I learned: Bald eagles and golden eagles are not closely related. Picked that up in an article by Kenn Kaufman . . .

The sandwich tern that visited the Chicago lakeshore in September was only the second one ever recorded in Illinois. It even made the news on WBBM Radio 780. Love it when birding gets a little mainstream attention like that . . .

Best license plate I saw in 2010: “Screech.” Below it, a bumper sticker: “So Many Species, So Little Time.” The driver, from Michigan, was a member of the Washtenaw Wingnuts. That’s either a birding club or a minor league baseball team . . .

I feel bad for Hedwig . . .

Sorry, but you need to adjust your Life List: the whip-poor-will is now officially the eastern whip-poor-will. The American Ornithological Union says so . . .

When did you see your first junco this fall? For me it was October 7 . . .

Amazing bargain sighting: 50 pounds of black-oil sunflower seed for $11.98, at Menards. Not an everyday price, but still . . .

Favorite headline in 2010, from Bird Watcher’s Digest: “In Praise of Sewage Lagoons: Smelly but Birdy!” . . .

I also enjoyed this line, from an online posting by the Evanston North Shore Bird Club: “Our leaders have found some great manure piles, so get ready to tour fields and dairy farms for horned larks, Lapland longspurs, snow buntings, and maybe even a rough-legged hawk!” . . .

This might be a good winter for the winter finches like pine siskins and common redpolls. Keep a close eye on your thistle feeder . . .

Place your bids for an original copy of John James Audubon’s “Birds of America.” The book will be auctioned this month by Sotheby’s and is expected to bring at least $6 million. Check your attic, too . . .

Three birds I’ve only seen once and can’t wait to see again: least bittern, cerulean warbler and northern shrike . . .

Pack the car: Eagle Watch Weekend at Starved Rock State Park is January 22-23 . . .

Julie Zickefoose simply has a great blog. I’m addicted. Give her a Google . . .

If I see only one movie in 2011, it will be “The Big Year,” with Steve Martin, Owen Wilson and Jack Black . . .

And if I read only one book, “The Biggest Twitch: Around the World in 4,000 Birds” . . .

“Bird Feathers,” another new book, is on my want-list too. It’s an ID guide . . .

My New Year’s resolutions: 1) become a regular eBird user 2) join American Bird Conservancy and 3) see a Kentucky warbler . . .

I want that Kentucky so bad that I’m offering a bounty. Show me the bird and I’ll write a $25 check to the nature charity of your choice . . .

Oh, and I never did see that black-throated gray warbler at Elsen’s Hill in West Chicago. Sort of pathetic considering it stayed for well over a month and I work only two miles away . . .

Come to think of it, I didn’t get a single “lifer” in 2010. Guess I need to get out more. Let’s all make that a goal for 2011, shall we? Best wishes for a happy new year of birding.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Northern shrike photo by Mike Daley

2010-11-15T10:55:00.004-06:00

Watch for migrating sandhill cranes this month
(published 11-15-10)

The first sandhill crane I ever saw was through a rental car window just outside of Grand Island, Neb. The huge bird was flying low, silhouetted in a soft evening sky. It was one of those “wow” moments in birding that you never forget.

I was in central Nebraska to witness one of the birding world’s great spectacles—the annual gathering of up to 500,000 sandhill cranes along the Platte River, the key stopover along their northerly spring migration. “Sandies” were everywhere, roosting on the Platte’s sandbars at dusk and foraging in surrounding corn fields by day. There was even a rare whooping crane mixed in among them, an exciting bonus for the hundreds of visiting birders like me.

That was 1998, when I barely knew a kinglet from a kingfisher. Only later did I realize that going to Nebraska in March to see my first sandhill crane was like somebody going to the Super Bowl to see his first football game. And frankly, I had no idea back then how easy it is to see sandhill cranes right here at home. November, in particular, offers prime viewing opportunities as the birds migrate south. You may not see a crane on the ground, but with a little patience you’re almost certain to see one of their noisy flocks passing over—maybe from your own backyard.

Cranes are indeed conspicuous in the late autumn sky. Extra-long windpipes serve to amplify their distinctive bugle call, so even high-flying flocks are easily heard.

One of my favorite nature writers, Scott Weidensaul, described the sandhill crane’s call as “pure magic, guaranteed to raise gooseflesh on someone hearing it for the first time.” Such reverent words are commonly associated with cranes, which are among the world’s oldest living bird species. They have an almost mythical quality about them.

I learned a few things about cranes in October when Joan Garland from the International Crane Foundation (Baraboo, Wis.) spoke at a DuPage Birding Club meeting. There are 15 species of cranes in the world, and only two occur in the United States: the whooping crane and the sandhill. Of the 15 species, 11 are endangered, the whooping crane being the most endangered of all. The sandhill is the most abundant crane and is not endangered. In fact, the species is legally hunted in the Central U.S. states. I still find that hard to believe.

With seven-foot wingspans, sandies are slightly larger than great blue herons. Unlike herons, however, cranes fly with their long necks stretched straight out. They usually travel in loose V formations, like geese, but on Indian summer days you may see them soaring in a spiral pattern. In those cases they’re riding updrafts of warm air, called thermals, just like hawks and turkey vultures do.

The sandhill cranes passing over DuPage and Kane counties this fall likely spent their summers on breeding grounds in Minnesota, Wisconsin or southern Canada. Most of them will now assemble at Jasper-Pulaski Fish and Wildlife Area in northwest Indiana before journeying on to Florida and southern Georgia for the winter.

To see cranes in great numbers, Jasper-Pulaski is the place to be from mid-October through early December. It’s the Midwest version of the Platte River spectacle, and it’s a whole lot closer than Nebraska—about 110 miles from DuPage.

I’ve only been to Jasper-Pulaski once, and it wasn’t just to watch sandhill cranes. A common crane, a Eurasian species that’s anything but common here, visited the preserve in 1999. Like a few hundred other obsessed birders, some of them self-described “craniacs,” I had to go see. Upon arrival, I’d never seen so many spotting scopes in one place. Some of the people peering through them had traveled great distances. I remember talking to a guy who had just flown in from Baltimore. Yup, just for a bird.

Whooping cranes sometimes stop at Jasper-Pulaski, too. They are all white and taller than sandhills so they really stand out. But the mass gathering of sandhill cranes (up to 10,000 birds) is reason enough to make the trip to J-P. You’ll want to be there about an hour before sunset, on the observation tower, to watch the cranes coming in to roost. Enjoy the show!

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Sandhill crane photo by Jim Frazier

2010-10-03T14:35:00.008-05:00

Night of the black-throated warblers
(published 10-26-10)

On weekdays I’m usually anxious to get out the door and off to work. But sometimes a “good bird” gets in the way. This occurs most often during the spring and fall migration seasons, and it happened most recently on a Monday in September.

It was a backyard brown thrasher that first caught my eye, surely the same one that was hanging around the day before. It was nice to have another look.

Of course, my distraction didn’t end with the thrasher. Sorry boss, I’m gonna be a little late. Over there was a ruby-crowned kinglet, in the same tree as a magnolia warbler. And look, a female rose-breasted grosbeak on the feeder! Don’t see that every day. The male was up in a neighbor’s tree, sounding his trademark metallic call note. Chink!

A young ruby-throated hummingbird stopped by the nectar feeder. I watched and wondered if this was the last hummer I’d see in 2010. It was September 20, after all. Drink up little fella, you have a long journey ahead.

After a half-hour I pulled myself away and left for work. But four hours later my mind was back on birds. I just had to take a little lunchtime walk. Even at noon there might be some birds around.

I’m fortunate to work in a park environment, where at certain times of the year there is very good birding less than 100 yards from my office. I’d seen not one but two golden-winged warblers during a noon walk the week before. But on this day all was quiet. Too warm, I guess. It felt like July.

The next temptation occurred around 5:20. I was about to shut down my computer and go home but decided to first check the local online birding network. There on the screen was a fresh posting about a black-throated gray warbler, a rare visitor from the western United States. The bird was discovered a few days earlier at the Elsen’s Hill unit of the West DuPage Woods Forest Preserve in West Chicago. Now it had been found again, in the same place, less than two hours ago.

So, for the third time on a Monday, I went birding.

I’d seen a black-throated gray warbler twice before, each time in Arizona. To see one here would be pretty special. A species that few people will ever see in Illinois was less than two miles from my office!

Pulling into the lot off of Gary’s Mill Drive, I was surprised to see only two cars. I parked and set off down the trail, looking for people. I needed an update on the bird and some advice on where to look. Ideally, I would find somebody watching the bird. Darkness was just over an hour away.

Up ahead I saw Marilyn and Pete. This was lucky. Both are skilled birders who really know their way around Elsen’s Hill. Pete practically lives there.

Elsen’s is not a huge preserve but it might as well be Yellowstone if you’re looking for a tiny gray and white bird. Then again, we had Pete. He’d seen the bird at 4:00 pm and several times in previous days. His knack for finding it was uncanny.

Marilyn, like me, had just arrived. Both of us were hopeful but calm. Seeing the bird would be great but just participating in the search was fun, too.

We split up temporarily to cover more ground. I stayed with Pete, and within moments we were watching a male black-throated blue warbler. If I saw nothing else this evening it was already worth the trip. The “BTBW” is an uncommon beauty.

Marilyn rejoined us about 10 minutes later and just in time to hear a singing gray-cheeked thrush, identified by Pete. It was an unusual song that I’d never heard before.

Pete’s “birding by ear” skills are incredible and they greatly aided our search efforts. He knew the chip note of the black-throated gray warbler, and he knew that it sounded just like that of the black-throated green warbler, a common species.

Indeed, there were now three kinds of “black-throated” warblers in play on this night at Elsen’s HIll. Blue, green and gray.

We heard and observed several black-throated greens. But the featured bird was eluding us. Pete was trying hard—way too hard for an unpaid guide. He really wanted Marilyn and me to see the black-throated gray.

Granted, I had no right to expect success in less than 90 minutes of searching. Bird chases like this require patience and often more than one site visit. Besides, Elsen’s Hill owed me nothing. A few Aprils ago it produced my second-ever Connecticut warbler and an olive-sided flycatcher—a very good day.

The magic of Elsen’s Hill is well documented. It’s a well-known hotspot for migrating warblers in the spring. I asked Pete and Marilyn about birds that they or others have seen at Elsen’s and the list is astounding. Northern goshawk, Kirtland’s warbler, pileated woodpecker, blue grosbeak, varied thrush, Mississippi kite… Each of these sightings caused a stir among local birders.

Now the black-throated gray warbler has joined this elite list of Elsen’s Hill rarities. An estimated 100 birders from all over the region came looking for the bird, and many found it thanks to Pete. Day after day he found a needle in a haystack. The warbler was still being seen the first weekend in October.

We didn’t find the bird on that balmy Monday evening. Marilyn would have a nice look at it nine days later after 13 hours of cumulative searching. I made several more short visits to Elsen’s without luck. Pete felt worse about this than me, I’m sure of it.

Sometimes you get the bird and sometimes you don’t. But the searching is always fun, and the consolation prizes along the way are pretty good, too.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Black-throated blue warbler photo by Mike Daley

2010-09-28T12:41:00.004-05:00

Remembering Martha and her kin
(published 9-28-10)

Advice to highly endangered bird species: Stay clear of Cincinnati. Fly around it. Don’t land. In particular, avoid the Cincinnati Zoo, my choice for the saddest place in our country’s ornithological history.

Two very special birds died at the zoo almost 100 years ago, and each had names. “Martha” was the world’s last known passenger pigeon; “Incas” was the last Carolina parakeet.

The birds were quite famous in their day, especially Martha. There was no doubt she was the last of her kind; all the wild pigeons had disappeared. So extinction was inevitable, and Martha’s final years were a death watch. When she passed in 1914, it was the end of what had been the most abundant bird species on Earth.

It was a beautiful species too, not to be confused with the urban rock pigeons we all know or the “carrier pigeons” once used to deliver messages.

Passenger pigeons resembled mourning doves only larger and more colorful. Their breast was muted orange, the head and back feathers bluish. They lived in deciduous forests throughout eastern North America.

Journals from pre-colonial times through the mid-1800s mention flocks of migrating pigeons that “blackened the skies” for hours on end. Aerial streams of more than a million birds were common. Witnesses, including John James Audubon, surely never imagined that the species would soon be just a memory.

Habitat destruction, disturbance of nesting colonies and excessive hunting and trapping are the common explanations for the passenger pigeon’s demise. There was demand for the meat, and the birds were an easy mark.

Barrels of salted pigeons were loaded onto railroad cars and shipped to market. People also killed them for sport, leaving the carcasses on the ground. The supply of pigeons seemed infinite.

But by the 1890s, the skies had emptied.

Benjamin Gault, for whom a bird sanctuary on N. Main St. in Glen Ellyn is named, wrote: “During the late years, the Passenger Pigeon has become extremely rare in Northeastern Illinois, at least as far as the neighborhood of Chicago is concerned. My latest record was made at Glen Ellyn on Sunday, September 4, 1892. It was a young of the year, very tame, and unsuspicious. It was discovered in the company of some jays and feeding about the piles of dirt recently made in excavating for the foundation of a house, well within the limits of the town, and was also observed picking the grain from some fresh horsedroppings, in which occupation it was harassed somewhat by the jays.”

Ever the collector, Gault thought about making the bird his own.

“But the day, location and circumstances under which my observation was made precluded the possibility of the capture of the specimen,” he wrote.

Eight years later, a bird in Pike County, Ohio, wasn’t so lucky. A young boy shot it, ending the life of the last wild passenger pigeon ever recorded.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that bird, about Martha and about passenger pigeons in general ever since June. During a Midwestern “baseball road trip” with my son, I crossed paths with a historic marker and later a full-scale monument, each dedicated to the passenger pigeon. It was pleasing to see the pigeon’s story remembered.

We found the marker at a rest area near Tomah, Wis. I’d been wondering how the species got its name and the tablet answered my question: it derives from an Indian word meaning “wanderer.” Passenger pigeons apparently traveled up to 100 miles a day during nesting season searching for food. Acorns and chestnuts were preferred.

There is a good reason for the sign’s location. The largest nesting colony of passenger pigeons ever recorded occurred in the area, in 1871—an estimated 136 million pigeons covering 850 square miles!

A few days later I was birding at Wyalusing State Park, a beautiful spot along the Mississippi River in the dairy state’s southwest corner. My search for a Kentucky warbler failed, but I felt richly compensated by a visit to the passenger pigeon monument on Sentinel Ridge. It recalls the last known pigeon ever shot in Wisconsin, in Babcock, in September 1899.

Conservationist Aldo Leopold, who attended the dedication in 1947, said: “The monument, perched like a duckhawk on this cliff, will scan the wide valley, watching through the days and years. But no pigeons will pass, because there are no pigeons, save only this flightless one, grave in bronze on this rock.”

There are other flightless ones, of course, of the stuffed variety. You can see passenger pigeons on display at the Field Museum in Chicago and also the Jurica-Suchy Nature Museum at Benedictine University in Lisle.

You can even visit Martha. She’s mounted in a glass case at the Smithsonian in Washington.

At least there is an upside to all of this. Martha’s death brought national attention to the tragic story of her species. In turn, early bird conservation efforts in America received a jump start, leading to the landmark Migratory Bird Treaty, enacted in 1918.

The law was too late to save the passenger pigeon, but it delivered vital protection for other persecuted species.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2010-08-28T06:50:00.005-05:00

Purple martins thrive thanks to the human touch
(published 8-29-10)

I’m pretty sure that a purple martin could poop on Ray Feld’s head and he’d just smile. Then he’d calmly wipe off his silvery scalp. That’s how much he loves these birds.

Feld, as a hobby that he admits borders on obsession, watches over three thriving purple martin colonies. The largest and oldest is at Armstrong Park in Carol Stream. The second is at the BP Naperville Complex, where Feld is employed. The third, and the one I know best, is located at Cantigny Golf off Mack Road in Wheaton.

Saying Feld watches over the birds is a big understatement. Caring for a martin colony is a lot of work. I know this better than ever having attended a presentation Feld gave at the Cantigny site in July. About 40 other birders and I listened and learned about these fascinating birds, and what it takes to maintain and grow a colony.

Purple martins are the largest swallow species in North America. The adult males are dark and glossy with a purple sheen. Young birds and females are brownish with light-colored bellies.

What really sets martins apart is their preference for man-made housing and for being around people. In a sense they are like wild pets, highly dependent on humans for their existence and preservation. To thrive, purple martins actually need “martineers” like Ray Feld.

Like bluebirds, they need specific habitat, too. Martins feed exclusively on flying insects, so nesting sites must offer plenty of open space. All the better if a pond or lake is nearby.

Still, even with the right habitat, attracting martins can take a lot of patience. This year, after 23 years of waiting, purple martins finally took up residence on Feld’s own property in Winfield. He’s still gushing about it, and rightly so.

Three years ago Feld erected a martin house at the Morton Arboretum in Lisle. Despite excellent conditions at the site, martins have yet to move in.

Success, however, was relatively instant at Cantigny Golf, a habitat Feld calls “just about perfect.” Working with golf course superintendent Scott Witte, Feld installed a martin “castle” in fall 2004. A pair of martins moved in the very next spring. “That’s almost unheard of,” Feld says.

Cantigny was thrilled too, since hosting a purple martin colony further supports the golf course’s status as a Certified Audubon Cooperative Sanctuary, a designation held since 1993. Some 55 bluebird nesting boxes are also on the Cantigny estate, monitored by Feld, his wife Cecilia, and Mike Nizetic, another Cantigny volunteer.

The martins alone require many hours of Feld’s attention from April through July. He’s one of Cantigny’s most devoted volunteers, and knows that keeping the birds healthy and safe is essential to growing the colony. That’s good for Cantigny and good for the species in general, throughout the region.

Martins are site loyal, traveling from their wintering grounds in South America to the same nesting location every spring—sometimes to the very same house compartment they used the previous year.

When the birds reappear in early April, Feld has everything ready. He’s the ideal landlord. Nest compartments are lined with pine needles to protect the birds in case of extreme cold. Baffles are mounted to the poles to guard against raccoons. Wire perch towers are positioned near the houses. And very importantly, unwanted non-native birds like house sparrows and starlings are quickly evicted.

Martins raise one brood per season, with three to seven eggs per clutch. Soon after the eggs hatch, Feld replaces the original nest with a Styrofoam insert. This reduces nestling mortality by protecting the young birds from blood-sucking parasites. The adult martins are not bothered by the nest swap or by Feld handling their babies.

Clearly Feld’s efforts are paying off. Fifteen pairs of purple martins are living at Cantigny this summer, up from 11 in 2009 and 8 in 2008. Feld keeps careful records of nesting success, too. This year, 80 eggs were laid, 59 hatched and 55 of the babies fledged. This is nearly double the number of fledglings in 2009.

A second housing unit was installed at Cantigny in 2008 to accommodate the baby boom. Feld says he may hang a cluster of hollowed gourds to provide even more nesting space for the 2011 season.

Martins begin their long southern migration this month. A few birds may hang around DuPage until late August, but your best chance to observe them is next spring. Birders are welcome to visit the Cantigny Golf colony, located across from the main parking lot. Look for the green street sign that says Purple Martin Place.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Purple martin photo by Jack Bannister

2010-07-25T10:30:00.003-05:00

Marsh Magic at Wisconsin’s Horicon
(published 7-25-10)

In a recent column I suggested a trip to the Horicon Marsh Birding Festival in Wisconsin. I didn’t make it to that May event, but I did visit the marsh a few weeks later, on an overnight field trip with Kane County Audubon. It was a 24-hour birdathon that I won’t soon forget.

Horicon is in farm country, about an hour northwest of Milwaukee. I’d been there just once before, by myself in 2002. This time I’d see more of the 32,000-acre marsh, and experience a bit of the small-town life that surrounds it.

It was nice to be with like-minded souls. Our group was small, just seven birders, but we had large ambitions. How many species could we find? What rarities might we see? The possibilities were exciting. And of course we looked forward to resident Horicon specialties like black tern, Forster’s tern, yellow-headed blackbird, sandhill crane, bald eagle and American white pelican.

Our party set off from Elgin, early on a Saturday morning. We reassembled about three hours later in downtown Horicon, a city of 4,000. After much-needed coffee and a late breakfast at Mother’s Day Restaurant, we headed to an observation deck and trailhead just outside of town. This spot (go north on Palmatory Street from Route 33) is a great place to start. The panoramic view from the deck introduces the massive scale of this designated “wetland of international importance.” Horicon is the largest freshwater cattail marsh in the United States.

An active purple martin colony is adjacent to the deck and parking lot, and from here we began a long, slow hike through a mix of habitats. Horicon supports far more than ducks, geese and marsh birds. It’s a haven for grassland and woodland species, too. Birds we’d see or hear included black-billed cuckoo, red-headed woodpecker, wood thrush, great-crested flycatcher and six out of six possible swallow species.

Horicon can also be a fabulous place for warbler watching in May, but we were about a week too late to catch the wave. The only warbler species we observed were the local nesters—American redstart, common yellowthroat and yellow warbler. The latter two are marsh-loving birds and proved to be constant companions throughout the weekend. Yellow warblers were positively abundant.

The same goes for marsh wrens. Their bubbly chatter was the background music for our visit, punctuated every so often by the unmistakable whinny of a calling sora. These are the sounds of a thriving wetland, and the better ears among us were able to identify another Horicon denizen, the Virginia rail. We only made eye contact with two rails all weekend, one sora and one Virginia, a testament to their stealthy lifestyles.

Eventually our post-breakfast hike led us to the new Horicon Marsh International Education Center, another good spot to enjoy an elevated view of the landscape. Completed in 2009, the center (horiconmarsh.org) offers exhibits and free maps, bird checklists and other Horicon literature. A short film in the theater gives an overview about the marsh, which has a fascinating history involving man vs. nature.

In general, nature has been winning since the late 1920s, when efforts to drain the marsh and convert it to farmland were finally abandoned. In 1927, Wisconsin established the Horicon Marsh State Wildlife Area. This occupies the southern third of the marsh and is managed by the state’s Department of Natural Resources.

In 1941, the federal government purchased the rest of the marsh, creating Horicon National Wildlife Refuge. This was our group’s next destination as we headed for the marsh’s northern boundary along Highway 49, just east of Waupun. Passing traffic aside, the roadside birding here is terrific; pullover space is more than adequate. Redhead ducks, ruddy ducks and black terns were plentiful on the north side of the road, with a few yellow-headed blackbirds in the cattails beyond the open water.

More treasures awaited on the south side on some exposed mudflats. A male ruddy turnstone in full breeding plumage was a nice discovery, and this is where we enjoyed a glimpse of that Virginia rail. We also found a black-crowned night heron and common moorhen. Here and everywhere during our visit, herons, egrets and white pelicans were never out of view.

At 6 p.m. we reported back to the village of Horicon to board a pontoon boat at Blue Heron Landing. The two-hour “birding adventure” at sunset would be a highlight of the trip, thanks in large part to professional guide Marc Zuelsdorf. Marc’s been running the tours for many years but brings a fresh enthusiasm to his work. He clearly loves Horicon Marsh and enjoys showing off its birds.

And there is always something interesting to share. Marc noted that 301 species have been documented at Horicon, and his personal Horicon life list stands at 240-plus.
Perhaps the most conspicuous Horicon resident and a favorite of many birders is the American white pelican. Marc said the first pelicans arrived at Horicon just 13 years ago, a day he recalls as if it were yesterday. Now, with up to 700 nesting pairs, this is Wisconsin’s largest nesting colony.

The return of bald eagles to Horicon is another great story. Two pairs are now nesting on the refuge. Ospreys are present, too—a nesting platform was installed just this year and is already in use.

We saw lots of birds and a dazzling sunset as Marc guided us through a main channel that’s part of the Rock River system. Everyone in our group felt the $18 ticket was a bargain. Canoe and kayak rentals are available at Blue Heron Landing as well.

A late dinner at the Rock River Tap in downtown Horicon proved that bikers and birders can easily share the same space. The service was slow, the food was just fair and the beer was cold. In other words, we were delighted. We left the joint satisfied and ready for a good night’s sleep at the Mayville Inn up the road.

Our Sunday morning birding was more targeted. We’d heard that a white-faced ibis, a western species rarely seen at Horicon, was present near Main Dike Road in the marsh’s interior. This would be a great find. The only white-faced ibis I’d ever seen was in Henderson, Nevada, at a sewage treatment plant. (Yes, we birders visit all the best places.)

Other cars on the dusty Dike Road signaled that we were not the only birders on a mission. A driver heading east as we headed west told us the ibis was up ahead and not far from the road. So too were a pair of black-necked stilts, another uncommon species.

Within minutes we were “on” the ibis, enjoying excellent close-range views as the bird foraged in some old cattail stalks. This was too easy! The stilts were in the same general area, also feeding close to the road.

With the temperature approaching 90 and no shade in sight, we decided to head back to the north end of the marsh and try the floating boardwalk trail. Parts of it pass through a woodland and it felt good to be out of the hot sun. We found a rose-breasted grosbeak and some bobolinks in a neighboring field, but our best sighting was a yellow-throated vireo at its nest.

Driving back to Glen Ellyn that afternoon, I had plenty of time to think about all the birds we saw (and a few we didn’t see) at Horicon Marsh and surrounding Dodge County. Our weekend tally was 92 species—a good outcome considering the scarcity of warbler and sparrow species. We’d have liked to see a few more rarities given that sightings of glossy ibis, American avocet and a lone whooping crane had been reported in recent days.

Horicon seems to be a magnet for special birds, like the white-faced ibis we encountered. My favorite sighting, however, was a close-range view of a male northern harrier, hunting low over a grassy field. Known to birders as the “gray ghost,” this raptor can leave a big impression on those lucky enough to see it.

Horicon itself has that effect. Go explore it for yourself, and spend a whole weekend there if you can. This is one of the Midwest’s top birding destinations, and we’re fortunate to live less than 175 miles from its boundaries.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
White-faced Ibis photo by Norm Kopp

2010-06-07T16:08:00.003-05:00

Does it count? Sometimes it’s a tough call
(published 6-7-10)

If you’ve read this column before, you know about my precious yard list. Next to my life list, it’s my favorite diary. In early May, however, it became a little less pure. Or maybe not. I’m still pondering what happened.

First, a little background. Many yard list species have never physically entered my space. That’s not a problem. Most people count birds they can see from their yard, so a bird perched in a tree two houses away “counts,” as does a bird flying over. The rule of thumb is that the observer must be stationed on his or her property when the sighting occurs.

Usually that is the case, such as on May 3 when, from my back patio, I spotted a red-headed woodpecker high in a neighbor’s tree. This was an exciting find—one of my favorite birds, and No. 109 on a yard list that began the day we moved to Glen Ellyn in 1997.

These days, growing the list is a big challenge. It takes a lot of watching and luck to add one or two new species per year. So there I was, not expecting much, the day after the red-headed woodpecker sighting.

It started with a buzzy sound from the yard next door. I knew it was a bird but that’s all. My view was blocked by a hedge, and this bird seemed to be low and staying put. The unusual song kept repeating, so after a couple of minutes that seemed like 10 I decided to go around the hedge and try for a visual. This worked out well, because in a moment I was eye-to-eye with a blue-winged warbler! Another new species for the yard list!

Wait a minute boy, not so fast.

It was a blue-winged warbler all right, no doubt about that. I’ve seen a few of them before. But when I spotted this one I was standing on my neighbor’s property, six feet south of my own. After making the ID I scurried back into my own yard, hoping to see or hear the bird. Nothing. The bird was gone.

So, does it count? Or put another way, do I deny myself yard bird No. 110 due to a technicality? Am I nuts to even be worrying about this? Absolutely!

The bottom line is that I counted the bird: blue-winged warbler, No. 110. I did hear and see the bird, after all, and this wasn’t just any bird. It was a premium, out-of-place migrating species that I’ll likely never see again outside my back door. It deserved to be documented.

So you see, I did this for the bird.

In the end, those of us who keep lists make our own rules. It’s a highly personal matter. A few birders, very few, will add a bird to their life list if they just see it fly, relying on the field trip leader for the identification. Most are lot more scrupulous, applying a code of honor that ensures the highest level of list integrity. It helps us sleep at night.

It also keeps the birding police at bay. Nobody wants a visit from the Federal Bureau of Bird List Investigations. If the bureau comes to my place, I’ll calmly tell my story just like I’ve told it here. Then, if they insist, I will remove blue-winged warbler from my yard list. But as soon as their white van with black letters on the door is out of sight, I’ll put it back on. House rules!

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Blue-winged Warbler photo by Jerry Goldner, profilesofnature.com

2010-04-21T16:02:00.002-05:00

Get ready for the magic of May
(published 4-20-10)

I will never underestimate April – it’s a fabulous month for birding. It’s the best time of year to see sapsuckers and kinglets and creepers and hermit thrushes and fox sparrows and winter wrens. These are among the “classic” April birds we look forward to annually. By the first of May, most of them are gone, pulled north by the migratory urges that dictate their movements.

Yet as all birders know, April is just an appetizer. The main course is May.

Spring migration will soon reach its peak, and that means serious color: warblers, tanagers, grosbeaks, orioles and buntings. Some of these spectacular birds will hang around all summer, raising their families here. But most will not, especially the warblers.

About 30 members of the wood warbler family visit this region between mid-April and June 1. We covet these neotropical migrants for their vivid markings and often complex vocalizations. Finding them and identifying them can be a challenge, but that’s part of the attraction.

See or hear 20 or 25 warbler types this spring and you’ve done very well. If you’re new at this, just seeing a few species will leave you fulfilled—and perhaps wondering why you didn’t start this hobby earlier in life.

A good variety of May warblers will likely visit your backyard—watch your trees and shrubs carefully. Local parks, forest preserves and golf courses are the prime viewing spots, and don’t forget Morton Arboretum. The best strategy is simple: get outside as much as possible. Pick a place and go!

A good way to maximize your birding time is to join a group field trip. Check the websites of the DuPage Birding Club and Kane County Audubon to see all the choices. Both clubs welcome non-members on their trips, and it’s fun to experience the wonders of spring migration with others who are passionate about birds.

Group outings are especially productive for beginners—there’s really no easier way to learn about birds than tagging along with people who enjoy sharing their knowledge. Birders are a sociable lot, and most are eager to assist.

Here’s another idea: Road trip! The Great Lakes region features many “hotspots” that every birdwatcher should visit at least once. In May, some of the best-known venues are holding festivals that combine field trips, workshops, speakers, bird-banding demonstrations and more. These events will be fun for new and veteran birders alike:

The Biggest Week in American Birding, May 6-16, Lake Erie Marsh Region. A handful of sites in Northwest Ohio, including Magee Marsh and Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge, are known collectively as the “Warbler Capital of the World.” In May, the title well deserved. Go there and you can’t miss, plus you’ll get to rub elbows with Kenn Kaufman, a birding celebrity. Details are online at biggestweekinamericanbirding.com.

Horicon Marsh Bird Festival, May 7-10, Horicon, Wis. The black terns and yellow-headed blackbirds are enough for me, but Horicon in May holds way more than just marsh birds and waterfowl. Some 268 species have been observed at this vast and vital wetland preserve. It’s an amazing place, and not so far away. Visit horiconmarshbirdfestival.com.

Kirtland’s Warbler Wildlife Festival, May 15, Roscommon, Mich. See and learn about the rarest warbler of all! Kirtland’s is one warbler that you’ll probably never encounter in DuPage County and it has a fascinating story. A bird that merits its own festival is definitely worth the drive! For details, go to warbler.kirtland.edu.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Blackburnian warbler photo by Sue Wagoner

2010-03-31T09:11:00.004-05:00

What’s in a name? Sometimes nothing at all
(published 3-31-10)

In 2009, National Audubon Society’s board of directors elected Holt Thrasher as chairman. He succeeded a woman named Carol Browner. So the top leadership went from Browner to Thrasher. At the time, Audubon’s president was John Flicker. I’m not making this up.

Mr. Flicker resigned recently—migrated to another job or into retirement I suppose. It will be interesting to see who replaces him. Audubon’s Missouri office is headed up by Tony Robyn. He seems like an ideal candidate for promotion.

People names can be amusing, and bird names even more so. Scores of non-birders out there seem to love saying “yellow-bellied sapsucker.” It’s a great name, I agree, but why stop there?

The world contains about 10,000 bird species and each has a scientific name and at least one “common name.” Many birds have intriguing nicknames, too.

This is a fun and fascinating aspect of the hobby. I enjoy thinking about how some birds are perfectly named and some not even close. I wonder about – and then try to learn – how certain birds got their names. And always, always, I’m on the watch for dreamlike names such as “superb fairy wren” and “twelve-wired bird of paradise.”

Most bird names are far less exotic and some are probably too plain. Handsome species like the black-and-white warbler and yellow warbler deserve better. I’d change the black-and-white’s name to “zebra warbler” if given the chance.

Oh, I could fix a lot of bird names if the ornithology police would just let me. First on my list would be the red-bellied woodpecker. Anybody seen that red belly lately? “Faint wash of red on belly rarely visible,” says the Sibley field guide. Precisely! When a bird is named after a field mark, let’s choose a field mark that is a little more obvious.

It’s the same issue with orange-crowned warbler. Last October, however, when birding at Morton Arboretum, I got a nice close look at this rather drab warbler. For a second, for the first time ever, I saw an orangish smudge on the bird’s crown. I think.

Red-headed woodpecker, now there’s a well-named bird. It has a red head and it pecks wood. I’m partial to bird names that depict both appearance and behavior. Swallow-tailed kite. Black skimmer. Brown creeper. Yellow-breasted chat. Perfect.

Some bird names give us both a visual and audio clue. Black-capped chickadee, for example, and gray catbird. Others are named after their songs alone. This can work quite well, as with mourning dove, bobwhite and whip-poor-will.

Other times not. I’ve listened to dickcissels but I don’t hear them saying “dickcissel.” Maybe they’re saying I need new ears.

Geographic names can be even more confounding. Some warblers are named after states or cities where they were discovered, presumably during migration. Connecticut warblers are quite rare on the East Coast and do not live in Connecticut at any time during the year. Tennessee warblers do not live in Tennessee. Nashville warblers do not sing country music songs and could just as easily been named after Peoria or Milwaukee. It was chance, nothing more.

Baltimore oriole makes more sense. The species was named for the first baron of Baltimore and founder of Maryland, George Calvert. His family colors were orange and black, like the bird. If his colors had been black and purple, we might now have a Baltimore grackle.

If I may pick one more bone, let’s make it the magnolia warbler. This is a beautiful bird to watch for in May as it migrates through our region. But don’t get too focused on magnolia trees. “Maggies” are just as likely to appear in maples and oaks.

Alexander Wilson, known as “the father of American ornithology,” collected the type specimen. When he shot it, the victim happened to be perched in a magnolia.
I wouldn’t suggest that we change a lot of bird names, especially the ones based on random occurrences. That would be tampering with history. Discussing bird names would also be a lot less fun. Just be aware that the common names given to birds often have no connection with science.

For more on this subject, check out “Dictionary of Birds of the United States,” by Joel Ellis Holloway, and “100 Birds and How They Got Their Names,” by Diana Wells. Each book is loaded with interesting facts and anecdotes.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Magnolia warbler photo by Sue Wagoner

2010-03-04T17:14:00.003-06:00

Everyday beauty: Watching the cardinals
(published 3-3-10)

Want to feel better about your car, especially if you drive a Toyota? Here’s my advice: Get a pair of those Illinois license plates with our state bird, the northern cardinal.

In December I finally took the plunge, plunking down $70.44 for the state’s “environmental” tags. Hopefully some of that money actually does some good. But I know this, my 2003 Corolla has never looked better. Recall my car if you must, just don’t mess with my plates!

The cardinal is an easy bird to like. John James Audubon, referring to the “cardinal grosbeak,” said it best: “In richness of plumage, elegance of motion, and strength of song, this species surpasses all its kindred in the United States.”

By sight and sound, we know this bird well. Cardinals are reliable backyard visitors and impossible not to notice. Since mid-February, on clear mornings, maybe you too have heard the males singing from high perches. Their loud, clear whistle is one of the best harbingers of spring.

Yet cardinals are so common, so expected, most of us take them for granted. For this column, I decided to learn more about them. Here are a dozen things about redbirds that perhaps you didn’t know:

1) The highest concentration of cardinals in the U.S. is thought to be in Louisiana and Mississippi, reflecting the fact that our “northern” cardinal was once a predominantly southern species. Northward range expansion began in the 1800s and accelerated in the 20th century.
2) Cardinals (or “Virginia nightingales”) were once commonly trapped in the south and sold as cage birds. Many were shipped to Europe.
3) Cardinals sing 8 to 10 different songs. A robin may sing 70!
4) Both males and females sing when nesting time approaches. Female cardinals sing from the nest when they’re hungry, so the male knows to bring her food. You may even hear a cardinal in the middle of the night—if you do, it’s probably a female.
5) The oldest cardinal on record lived 15 years. A typical life span is 2 or 3 years.
6) Cardinals generally stay put. They are non-migratory and may range only a few miles during their entire lifetimes.
7) Cardinals are loyal mates with strong pair bonds. This spring, watch for the so-called “courtship kiss” when a male passes a seed from his bill to the female’s bill.
8) Cardinals are attentive parents. Unfortunately they raise a lot of cowbirds, too. (The brown-headed cowbird lays its eggs in other species’ nests.)
9) Cardinal territories are typically 2 to 10 acres and males defend them aggressively. In winter, they are not as territorial and form feeding flocks.
10) A cardinal’s foremost food and nest site competitor is the gray catbird.
11) Juvenile cardinals have dark bills and a plain face (no black mask).
12) The female cardinal has a country music theme song: “She Don’t Know She’s Beautiful,” by Sammy Kershaw.

OK, I made that last one up. But please make a point to examine the female closely, from head to tail. The beauty of her subtle coloration is undeniable.

Naturally the flaming-red male gets all the attention. And small wonder the cardinal is the most popular state bird by far. Kentucky adopted it in 1926, and six more states followed.

Ohio is a cardinal state too, but I possess a cherished piece of birding memorabilia that claims otherwise. A few years ago, during a stop along the turnpike, my son and I paused at one of those machines that press an image onto a penny. Jay has a collection of flattened coins stamped with places we’ve been or things we’ve seen (he loves turning the crank). At this particular machine near Toledo, one of the imprint options was “Ohio State Bird: Black-Crowned Night Heron.” Say what? Does the governor know about this? I love night herons, but I’m quite sure the species was never a Buckeye State icon!

For Ohio, Illinois and the other states, the northern cardinal was a good choice. The species deserves our admiration. And like many other common birds, it merits closer observation. Let’s watch our cardinals more carefully, and listen to their calls and songs with a keener ear. For birders of every ability level, cardinals offer one of the most conspicuous backyard learning opportunities around.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Female cardinal photo by Lori Indovina-Valus

2010-02-01T10:05:00.004-06:00

Bald eagles in DuPage? Absolutely!
(published 2-1-10)

It doesn’t take much to get me thinking about eagles. The latest trigger was the cover of Audubon. It shows two sparring bald eagles, the spectacular Grand Prize-winning image in the magazine’s inaugural photo awards.

Most people love eagles, and not just birders. Is there an American over age 4 that would not recognize one? Best of all, their population is growing. The odds of seeing a wild bald eagle here in DuPage County have never been better.

Last September, at Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge near Toledo, the first bird I spotted was a bald eagle on the wing. Was this a trained bird, commissioned to greet and impress first-time refuge visitors like me? No, the bird was simply patrolling its home territory—one of several resident eagles at Ottawa.

It was also the first eagle I’d ever seen in Ohio, my home state.

As a young boy in Canton, a flyover flock of Canada geese was an exciting and somewhat rare occasion. We’d stop what we were doing to marvel at the occasional V-formation. But the chances of a bald eagle sighting were zero. In the 1970s the species was fighting for its very survival. Pesticide poisoning had pushed our national symbol to the brink of extinction.

Fortunately, some smart people acted just in time. DDT was banned in 1972, and the Endangered Species Act debuted a year later. These steps allowed bald eagles to stage a remarkable comeback that continues today. The species has been off the federal list of endangered and threatened wildlife since 2007.

On the Dec. 19 Christmas Bird Count, seven bald eagles were spotted in DuPage and eastern Kane counties. The sightings were mostly along the Fox River, but one occurred at Blackwell Forest Preserve in Warrenville.

At Greene Valley Forest Preserve in Naperville, where the DuPage Birding Club studies raptor migration each fall from the top of the landfill “mountain,” some 21 bald eagles were sighted during the 2009 count period. Three golden eagles flew over too!

Of course I dream of spotting an eagle soaring high over my yard. Hey, it could happen.

It did happen for Candace Barry outside her home in West Chicago. She encountered a baldy last October when taking pictures of the fall color. She first saw it on the ground just 50 yards away and then managed a few good photos of the bird in flight.
“I truly felt blessed to walk out and find an eagle,” Candace told me. “My dad saw one about 60 years ago in his backyard and I always thought that was a great story. I never imagined I would have my own to tell.”

Of course, for most of us, a backyard eagle is a long shot. We’ll need lots of patience and luck. But what about seeing an eagle now? We have some options.

Rather unbelievably, a few birds can be viewed this time of year at the Little Calumet River on the far south side of Chicago. They’ve been visiting every winter since 2004 according to Joe Lill of the Chicago Audubon Society. The 9th Ward, not known for its scenic beauty, treats the eagles like celebrities.

The Mississippi and Illinois Rivers are even more of a sure thing. In winter, bald eagles congregate near the locks and dams, grabbing fish where the water stays open. For anyone who appreciates nature it’s a spectacle not to be missed.

The nearest highly reliable viewing place is Starved Rock State Park in Utica, about 85 miles south of central DuPage County. For some excellent eagle watching, go to the Illinois Waterway Visitors Center between now and early March. The center is located at lock and dam #4 on the Illinois River, across from the park. More information is online at flocktotherock.com or call 800-746-0550.

Meanwhile, don’t give up on adding a bald eagle to your yard list. Broadly speaking, the birds are most definitely in the neighborhood.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Eagle photo by Candace Barry

2010-01-08T17:20:00.030-06:00

Florida trip ends with a surprise
(published 1-8-10)

It turns out my only “lifer” of the trip was a nonnative member of the starling family, picked up at a McDonald’s like a cheap bag of fries. But I’ll take it. In Florida I’ll take anything with wings.

Besides, this wasn’t a birding trip. My visit to Key Largo last month was triggered by a broken leg. Not mine, my dad’s. He needed help, and so did mom, so my brother and I went down to assist. I packed my binoculars but didn’t expect to use them much.

Yeah, right. This is Florida—warm, tropical and always birdy. When I go there I’m constantly checking the skies for magnificent frigatebirds and short-tailed hawks, scanning the treetops for white-crowned pigeons, and eyeing the roadside swamps for herons, egrets, anhingas, spoonbills and wood storks. These and other Florida specialties are conspicuous, even from a moving car.

Hour for hour, I’ve birded in Florida more than any other state except Illinois. Some of my best birding memories are from Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary, the Everglades and Dry Tortugas National Park. I keep a list of birds seen in Florida and enjoy the challenge of adding to it.

In December my big opportunity was a visit to Loxahatchee National Wildlife Refuge, 12 miles west of Boynton Beach in Palm Beach County. I’d heard good things about it and was eager to spend a whole afternoon outside. Maybe I’d even find a few new species like smooth-billed ani and fulvous whistling duck. These and lots of other avian goodies were certainly possible, and no matter what I was sure to see a lot of birds.

Loxahatchee consists of 145,000 acres of vital habitat in the northern Everglades. Only a small portion is open to the public—a series of wetland “impoundments” where water levels are closely regulated by the preserve. Birders walk along the edges of these managed areas, on the dikes, affording an open and slightly elevated view of the surroundings. The panorama is fascinating, with ponds, canals and sawgrass marshes teeming with birdlife.

I’d noticed a snail kite perched on a power line just before turning into the preserve from US-441. A good start! There are probably less than 1,000 snail kites remaining in Florida—an endangered species that all birders hope to see and one I’d only chanced upon once before. Loxahatchee has several nesting pairs.

The preserve’s visitor center shows a truly excellent film about the Everglades and what’s being done to save what remains of this one-of-a-kind ecosystem. Still, as it played, I couldn’t keep from paging through the refuge bird list that I’d picked up at the information desk. Outside there were amazing birds to be seen and I only had a few hours to find them. What was I doing inside a theater? And why was I the only one? It was time to go.

A nice boardwalk trail through a cypress swamp is behind the visitor center. But for birders, the main attraction is the Marsh Trail and other pathways around the impoundments. Within an hour I’d spotted three more species that I’d only seen once before—mottled duck, glossy ibis and limpkin. Those sightings alone, combined with the snail kite, made my day. And because this was Florida, egrets, herons, anhingas, kingfishers and moorhens were everywhere. Turkey vultures were constant companions too, swirling overhead all afternoon along with a few black vultures. A red-shouldered hawk zipped by at close range, an osprey hovered over some potential prey, and off in the distance a brownish heron descended and disappeared in the sawgrass. I saw that bird’s dark wingtips just in time to know it was an American bittern.

After three hours of birding that seemed like 30 minutes, it was time to drive back to Key Largo. My Loxahatchee bird list had 40 checks, and two of the species, painted bunting and monk parakeet, were new additions for my all-time Florida list. It was a great afternoon, and I’ll surely replay it this winter when I need a little warmth.

I’ll also recall my final “life bird” of 2009, acquired quite unexpectedly at the very end of my trip. It happened when I stopped to gas up the rental car on my way to the Miami airport. I was in a place called Florida City according to my Texaco receipt. Pulling out of the station I noticed some birds up on the power lines. They looked like starlings but one seemed different. So I crossed US-1 and pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot. Working fast, I popped open the trunk and dug out my binoculars and Sibley guide. I refound the bird and knew instantly it was something I’d never seen before. Sibley confirmed it was a common myna, an import from southern Asia.

But was this a “countable” bird? Could I add it to my life list? South Florida is home to many exotic (non-native) species and only those with self-sustaining wild populations are recognized by the American Birding Association, our hobby’s rule-making body. I’d need to do some checking. The life bird dance was on hold.

Back in Glen Ellyn, a copy of ABA’s December newsletter was waiting in a week’s worth of mail. No kidding, on page 6 was an article titled “Finding Common Myna in southern Florida.” The piece by Bill Pranty—the man who literally wrote the book on Florida birding—had all the information I needed. Yes, common myna was officially countable—it’s among 12 exotic species in Florida now considered “established” in the wild by ABA—and Florida City was mentioned as one of the best places to find one. “Check the parking lots of the restaurants and gas stations,” Pranty advised.

At the bottom of the page was a pen and ink drawing of a common myna on the ground, eating a French fry. I’m glad not to have witnessed that particular scenario. As a birder, spotting the bird on a utility wire, mingling with the local starlings, was slightly more palatable.

Copyright 2010 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Common myna photo by Vivek Tiwari

2009-12-18T10:52:00.008-06:00

Keep a close eye on your thistle feeder
(published 12-14-09)

February 1 was one of my best memories of 2009. It was Super Sunday, when the Steelers defeated the Arizona Cardinals 27 to 23.

Thing is, I’m not from Pittsburgh, not a Steelers fan and not a big football watcher. I did witness parts of the big game and confess to watching that goofy halftime show with Bruce Springsteen. But by then my day was already made: I’d seen something way more exciting.

I first noticed the birds from an upstairs window. By their size and shape I assumed they were pine siskins—not an everyday species in my backyard. So I hustled downstairs to get a better look. That’s when my eyes nearly bugged out. Right there, enjoying a mid-winter snack on my thistle feeder, were three finches wearing little crimson caps. Common redpolls!

Having lived here for 12 years, avian surprises of this magnitude are few. This was a backyard first, and only the third time I’d ever seen redpolls anywhere.

Redpolls and siskins are members of a group we call the winter finches. They are “irruptive species,” meaning they sometimes appear here in great numbers. The key word is sometimes. It all depends on the winter food supply on their northern breeding grounds. If the cone and seed crop is good, they may never leave Canada. But when food is scarce, the birds wander south in nomadic flocks. It’s during those winters that our thistle (or niger) feeders become finch magnets.

So be ready, and keep your feeders full. The goldfinches will love you for it, of course, and with luck so might a common redpoll, pine siskin or purple finch. These species were widely reported in our region last winter.

Another coveted winter finch, the white-winged crossbill, also “irrupted” here in 2009. This species was fairly easy to find if you went looking for it—but not at feeders. White-wings prefer conifers. They dine in trees or on the ground, picking at cones. Morton Arboretum is one of the best local spots to observe them, in the hemlocks and spruces.

Siskins, on the other hand, could become daily customers if you keep a thistle feeder. This winter, look closely for siskins, purple finches and redpolls. If you don’t already know these species, look them up in a field guide so you are well prepared. They are not difficult to identify, but they are not flashy either, so you need to be alert.

The first siskin I ever saw was on my thistle feeder—still my only “backyard lifer.” But the “Super redpolls” last winter thrilled me even more. I’d waited so darn long for those guys.

The redpolls, unfortunately, disappeared after 20 minutes and never returned—at least not when I was watching. Thistle feeders all over the region, however, continued to pull them in throughout February, delighting birders and surely adding to many a life list. The feeder at Cantigny Park in Wheaton hosted redpolls right into early March.

If you have birch or alder trees in your yard, watch those too. Redpolls love the seed catkins.

Will this winter provide similar viewing opportunities? Well, a widely watched winter finch forecast says probably not. The report, published annually by Canadian ornithologist Ron Pittaway, indicates that natural food sources will be plentiful in the far north. So the winter finches may not need our handouts.

Yet birding, thankfully, isn’t always so predictable. Even in “non-irruptive” years there are certainly redpolls, purple finches, siskins and crossbills in the area. Not as many, but some. It’s our duty as birders to keep an eye out for them.

Copyright 2009 Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Redpoll photo by Jim Frazier

2009-11-16T15:51:00.001-06:00

When birding, nothing beats a good ear
(published 11-16-09)

Have you seen and heard the kinglet? If not, the finer inner world of nature is a sealed book to you. When your senses take in the kinglet they will take in a thousand other objects that now escape you.

These words are from an essay by the naturalist John Burroughs, written in 1899. His point is just as valid today. That is, there’s much more to learn and discover if we tune in a little more closely.

Birding is about hearing, not just seeing. For many, including me, learning bird calls and songs is the next frontier, the essential next step in skill development and a path to enjoying the hobby even more.

I’m often reminded of my own shortcomings in this area. Last month, while leading a bird walk at Cantigny Park in Wheaton, I was upstaged by an 11-year-old boy. As we walked he picked out the song of a yellow-throated vireo. Sure enough, a few moments later we were watching the bird.

I never mind being upstaged—bird walks are cooperative efforts. And I’m always happy to see young birders. Sadly, they are as scarce as cerulean warblers in these parts. So it was both pleasing and impressive when the boy at Cantigny found that vireo for the group. He had “a good ear,” as birders say, and we all benefited.

We know that young people generally have better hearing than older people, and their memories are better, too. The Cantigny Kid heard that vireo song before and remembered it.

The rest of us might need to work harder at this. Making a correct ID often depends entirely on knowing a bird’s call or song. Sometimes we never see the bird.

On that same Cantigny walk, somebody asked if birds that we hear but do not see are “countable.” Good question, and my answer to it is always yes.

If you hear a bird, and you’re 100% sure about what it is, why would you not count it? There’s one species on my yard list that I’ve still never seen—Eastern screech owl. When it calls there is no mistaking this nocturnal sprite, and it’s always a thrill when one visits the neighborhood.

Counting “heard birds” is also the right thing to do. Kenn Kaufman wrote a thoughtful column about this in Bird Watcher’s Digest. Too often, he said, overly enthusiastic birders create stress for birds when they attempt to further validate an ID by getting a visual.

They might march through a swamp to flush a secretive rail, or play a recording over and over to lure an elusive warbler into view. Not good!

Fortunately, most birders feel that when out watching birds, we are the guests. We behave responsibly and show respect for the birds. We stay on the trail and minimize our impact on their space.

This approach places a premium on good listening skills, and there are many resources to help you improve. I’ve mentioned one before: the “Birding by Ear” CDs from Peterson Field Guides. The CDs are low tech compared with other options but they are far from obsolete.

I’m also a fan of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology website—the All About Birds section in particular. With a few clicks you can hear any bird in North America. Go to www.birds.cornell.edu.

If you own an iPod, iPod Touch or iPhone, some powerful apps are waiting. Software like birdJam and iBird Explorer can turn your device into an electronic field guide, complete with pictures, text, range maps and songs. Within seconds, you can check a bird’s ID based on sound or sight.

Some of my friends are devoted birdJam or iBird users. They love the convenience, portability and speed of their gadgets. Most of all, they love playing those bird songs. The technology is very slick.

Me, I’m still birding the old-fashioned way. In the field, all I really want is a good pair of binoculars and some interesting birds. If those birds are making noise, even better. I’ll be listening, enjoying and always learning. The Apple Store can wait.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2009-10-07T10:03:00.002-05:00

Midwest Birding Symposium gets a special visitor
(published 10-7-09)

Last month’s Midwest Birding Symposium in Ohio attracted just over 800 bird nerds like me and many of the biggest names in the hobby—Kenn Kaufman, David Sibley, Scott Weidensaul, Bill Thompson and Julie Zickefoose among them.

Even Jane Alexander, the actress, gave a talk, proving that people in the public eye occasionally do come forward and confess their passion for watching birds.

The Symposium’s most notable guest, however, was a big surprise. He kept a low profile and didn’t attend the scheduled events but still created quite a stir. A Kirtland’s warbler will tend to do that.

The male bird was discovered in a park about five miles away from the convention, which took place in Lakeside, just east of Toledo. Word of the sighting spread quickly, causing many Symposium participants to “blow off classes” and chase the bird instead.

Kirtland’s warbler is our nation’s rarest songbird, an endangered species that all birders long to see. It’s actually not a difficult bird to observe, but only if you visit the bird’s primary breeding grounds in north central Michigan.

Seeing a Kirtland’s during migration, however, is a long shot. The species is virtually invisible as it travels to its winter home in the Bahamas. It’s slightly ironic, therefore, that the species was actually discovered in Ohio—in 1851, by a man named Kirtland. It took another 52 years before anyone found the warbler’s nesting territory in Michigan.

Over the years there have been occasional Kirtland’s sightings along the Chicago lakeshore, causing the local birding community to go bonkers. So you can imagine the excitement we felt at Lakeside—a rare opportunity to see a very rare bird!

I’d seen the Kirtland’s before, near Mio, Michigan, in 1999. But of course I was craving another look. And to see the species in Ohio, my home state, would be a nice bonus.

I arrived at the Symposium on Friday around noon. By then, Kirtland’s fever was in full bloom. A decision had to be made—go for the bird or go to the afternoon seminars? Having birded all morning at Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge, I elected to stay in Lakeside and enjoy the event I’d driven 300 miles to attend. Maybe this was a mistake.

Plenty of birders saw the Kirtland’s that afternoon. At dinner, the most common question was “Did you see it?” And if you hadn’t, would you be trying for it in the morning? For me the answer was easy.

So there I was the next day at 7 a.m., participating in a classic stake-out. Seriously, that’s what it’s called when birders gather to find a previously spotted rarity. Scraps of paper with handwritten notes littered the trail, each indicating the time and place where the Kirtland’s was sighted the day before. Some people who’d already seen the bird were back again, pointing to trees and shrubs where the Symposium’s guest of honor had perched just 12 hours earlier.

After an hour of waiting and searching and no bird, the stake-out began to break down. Patience was running thin, and some good breakfast spots were just down the road. The warbler, most of us conceded, was likely a one-day wonder. Unlucky for us, that day was yesterday.

Oh well, now I have a good excuse to make a return visit to “Kirtland’s territory” in Michigan. And—great news—the bird is getting easier to see! Intense and ongoing habitat management efforts are paying off big.

In 2008, the Kirtland’s warbler breeding population in Michigan was estimated to be 3,600—up tenfold from 20 years ago. Once on the brink of extinction, the lemon-breasted warbler has staged an amazing recovery.

If birders and conservationists had their way, Michigan’s official state bird would not be the American robin. Maybe Jane Alexander can have a chat with the governor.

In the meantime, make plans to go witness a Kirtland’s warbler next spring. An excellent opportunity will be the Kirtland’s Warbler Wildlife Festival on May 15 in Roscommon, Mich. You’ll see the bird and learn its fascinating story. Full details and some great photos are online at http://warbler.kirtland.edu.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Kirtland's Warbler photo by Ron Austing

2009-09-08T16:35:00.000-05:00

New book examines life and The List
(published 9-8-09)

My mother, naturally a loyal follower of Words on Birds, recently chided me about the term “life list.” She said it seems to appear in all of my columns. I then reminded her that I’m a birder.

I’m also a reader, and this has been an exceptional year for books on birds and birding. Last winter I wrote about “Birdwatcher,” the new biography on Roger Tory Peterson. Today—get ready for this Mom—the topic is “Life List,” by Olivia Gentile. It’s a well-told story about the life of Phoebe Snetsinger, the first person to see 8,000 species of birds. Since her death in 1999, only two birders have surpassed her final total of 8,398. (There are roughly 10,200 known species in the world; it’s unlikely anyone will ever see them all.)

“Life List,” as you can imagine, is largely about obsession. The book’s subhead reads “A Woman’s Quest for the World’s Most Amazing Birds.” Birders eat these books up, and so do a few non-birders. There’s something compelling about stories of people who go over the edge in all-out pursuit of a passion, in this case birding. We want to know where they went and what they saw. Some, like me, want to know how they got away with it.

No birder I know can resist Kenn Kaufman’s “Kingbird Highway,” published in 1997. Subhead: The Story of a Natural Obsession That Got a Little Out of Hand. Then came “The Big Year,” by Mark Obmascik. Subhead: A Tale of Man, Nature, and Fowl Obsession. These books were about one-year bird chases around the U.S. Most recently, we gobbled up “To See Every Bird On Earth,” by Dan Koeppel. Subhead: A Father, a Son, and a Lifelong Obsession. There’s that o-word again—do I detect a pattern?

I strongly recommend the three books just mentioned. They entertain and inform, and each is well written. But “Life List” is something else—an exceptional biography in every way. I can see it appealing to people who don’t give a hoot about birding. In fact, it has all the elements to make a really good movie—perhaps the first major motion picture with a bird-theme since March of the Penguins in 2005. But that film was about birds. This one would be about birding, and a woman who took “competitive listing” to a new level.

Phoebe Snetsinger’s autobiography was published posthumously in 2003 by the American Birding Association. It was called “Birding on Borrowed Time,” a reference to the cancer diagnosis Snetsinger received at age 49. Doctors gave her one year to live.
The autobiography was essentially a travelogue—interesting in parts, a little dull in others. At least the cover was nice. It shows a male Blackburnian warbler, the “spark bird” that hooked Snetsinger on birding.

“Life List” goes a lot deeper and gets personal. Gentile contacted dozens of people who knew Phoebe well, including family members. Turns out she wasn’t as one-dimensional as some might think. She was obsessed with bird listing, certainly, and that poisoned her marriage and alienated her children. Snetsigner even skipped her mother’s funeral and a daughter’s wedding due to previously scheduled international birding trips. Ouch. But “Life List” also reveals a warm side. She was a willing teacher with a kind heart. She had many friends.

Phoebe spent her childhood in the Chicago area. She was the daughter of Leo Burnett, a giant in the advertising world. This adds yet another interesting layer to Gentile’s book.

And there are so many layers. The cancer “death sentence,” of course, and also the sexual assault that Snetsinger suffered on a birding trip to New Guinea. Even that didn’t slow her down. She continued putting her safety and health at risk while traveling the globe in search of new birds.
Melanoma never did claim Snetsinger’s life. Fittingly, she died with her binoculars on, the victim of a rollover van crash in Madagascar. She was 68.

I can’t say enough about “Life List.” It is simply a fascinating book, superbly written and researched. Every birder should read it.

Olivia Gentile will speak about her book and sign copies on Tuesday, Oct. 27, at the Evanston Ecology Center. The evening talk is sponsored by the Evanston North Shore Bird Club and open to the public. For details, visit ensbc.org.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2009-08-18T14:58:00.000-05:00

How I twitched away my summer vacation
(published 8-18-09)

I’m no different than most birders—the thrill of discovery is a big motivator, and so is the satisfaction of building my life list. I’ll gladly visit the local sewage treatment plant if that’s where the birds are. And sometimes that is where the birds are.

Nicer destinations are required when other family members are involved. They are not birders. So in July we splurged on two weeks in London, Ireland and Northern Ireland. It wasn’t Costa Rica, still my dream trip, but it wasn’t the backyard either, which can be kind of slow in mid-summer. New birds awaited me in the land where birders are known as twitchers and where common birds like robins, goldfinches and jays look nothing like the ones in DuPage County.

Our first five days were in London, my first time there as a birder. Early each morning I slipped out to survey the local birdlife in the big city parks. Hyde Park was a short walk from our hotel, as was a smaller one called Green Park, near Buckingham Palace. A third park, Regent’s, was an easy Tube (subway) ride away and offered the best birding.

When so much is new, the birding is bound to be great. A few of my favorite sightings were great-crested grebe, little grebe, long-tailed tit (along with blue tit, great tit and coal tit), blackcap and jay. Two species, green woodpecker and great-spotted woodpecker, caught me by surprise. They were not in the small field guide that I’d studied on the plane. No wonder—the book I had was for Ireland’s birds, used on a previous trip. Turns out these woodpeckers, while common in London, hardly ever cross the Irish Sea.

I needed a field guide for British birds, so I headed over to Foley’s. What an eye-opener that was. The store had a section labeled Ornithology. I counted 28 shelves of bird books, 18 of them devoted to field guides for other countries. I’ve never seen a display like this in the U.S. and it spoke volumes, literally, about the depth of England’s birding culture.

More clues were in Birdwatch, a London-based journal. It’s published monthly—unlike any birding magazines we have here—and from the content it’s clear that the Brits take their birding seriously. Really seriously. My favorite piece was a closing column called “punkbirder,” where the unidentified author—pictured only in silhouette, with spiky hair, peering through a spotting scope—extolled the many virtues of birding one’s “local patch.”

I’m not planning a change in hairstyle but I might shout “blimey!” next time I find a rare bird.

Ireland was a peaceful contrast to bustling London. That was nice—quiet birding in beautiful surroundings is hard to beat. My partially Irish eyes were especially eager for the spectacular rocky coastline and the birds that call it home.
But first, some good inland birding awaited in places like Enniskillen, Rathmullen and Glenveagh National Park. At the latter, in County Donegal, a peanut feeder outside a small nature center was swarming with chaffinches (supposedly the most common bird in Ireland) and siskins. I was most interested in the siskins, which are quite different than the pine siskins we have here. A staff naturalist told me that grey wagtails were on the grounds too, but my brief search for that species was unsuccessful. In Donegal Town, I spotted my first goldcrest (related to our kinglets) and willow warbler, an abundant summer resident.

In Northern Ireland, in the little whiskey town of Bushmills, I found my grey wagtails. Actually a pair. The next day we ventured to the Giant’s Causeway, the famous rock formation on the north coast. We were blessed with nice weather and that surely aided my bird quest. Oystercatchers and curlews were feeding on the rocky beach, and huge gannets soared over the open water. As we walked, a bird I’d never seen before landed on some nearby boulders. It was a whinchat, and soon some stonechats appeared as well. Life birds each of them, along with a rock pipit for good measure.

Further down the coastal road we stopped at another popular cliffside attraction. Soon I was eye-to-eye with northern fulmars, a gull-like species I’d observed at the Cliffs of Moher back in 1996. This time the birds seemed close enough to touch. I could clearly see their tube-shaped nostrils, an adaptation for excreting excess salt.

The red-billed chough, a rare member of the crow family, eluded me. (As the Punk Birder would say, I dipped on it.) I’ll need to go looking again someday, hopefully with enough Euros in my wallet to hire a local guide who knows exactly where to search. Maybe he can show me a corncrake and a lapwing, too.

For the entire trip, I spotted 65 species of birds. Of those, 25 were “lifers”—certainly more than I’d been expecting. Then again, I put in a lot of hours. Maybe I should have seen even more. Hey, wait a minute, I did! This wasn’t just about the birds, it was about all the things I saw in London and in a half-dozen Irish villages when most of the locals were still asleep.

I’d have missed a lot if I wasn’t a birder. For all of us, isn’t that the bloody truth?

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2009-07-10T10:44:00.001-05:00

Bluebirds thrive with a little help from their friends
(published 7-15-09)

Learning more about Eastern bluebirds has been on my to-do list for years. I’ve been keeping a file on the species, reading bits and pieces, but that’s not the same as getting out there on the trail. So I finally popped the question: Will you take me with you?

Jody and Jerry Zamirowski were happy to grant my wish. The Glen Ellyn couple is among the 24 volunteers who monitor the bluebird nesting boxes at the Morton Arboretum in Lisle. They’ve been doing it since 1996—because they enjoy it, and because the birds really need them.

As recently as the early 1980s there were no bluebirds nesting in this area. They’d been squeezed out by abundant non-native bird species like house sparrows and starlings, which compete with bluebirds for nesting cavities such as abandoned woodpecker holes. With less open space and fewer dead trees due to urban development, bluebirds faced a serious habitat shortage. That’s when bird clubs, local Audubon chapters and other concerned groups stepped in to help. Their grassroots efforts have made a huge difference all across the nation—bluebird numbers have been rising steadily for two decades.

This remarkable success story is reflected at the Arboretum. Ginny Stohr, manager of the project since 2002, says bluebird boxes first appeared at the Arb in the mid-1980s, when a Boy Scout troop donated about 15 houses. Bluebirds didn’t find them immediately, but they didn’t stay vacant for long. More boxes were added for a total of 34 by 1988. Today there are 102.

It takes a lot of boxes to move the needle because bluebirds are not the only species that uses them. The entry holes are sized to keep out starlings, yet tree swallows, house wrens and house sparrows are common invaders. In fact, only three of the 10 houses on Jody and Jerry's section of the “bluebird trail” were hosting the species they were intended for.

You can tell instantly what species is using a particular box. The tree swallow nests featured gobs of feathers from other birds. The house wren nest we encountered was just a mass of little sticks, from floor to ceiling.

We didn’t find any house sparrow tenants, but if we had they would have been evicted. Other species, primarily tree swallows, are welcome to stay. Jerry and Jody informed me that bluebirds raise two and sometimes three broods in a single season. Tree swallows only raise one. So when baby swallows fledge, their nests can be cleared out, creating new space for bluebirds.

The first box we opened—by Jerry, with his trusty Phillips-head screwdriver—contained five baby bluebirds, huddled together in a tidy nest of brown grasses. It was a perfect scene, exactly what a monitor hopes to find.

Seventy-nine bluebird nests were recorded at the Arb in 2008, the most since 84 nests in 2001. The average nest count in the 1990s was just 45.

The key stat, though, is fledged birds—bluebirds that hatch and survive. There were 216 fledglings in 2008, and 268 in 2007, the best year ever. In the 1990s, the average was 118. More nesting boxes contributed to the growth, along with an intensified volunteer effort.

Collecting all the data is hard work. Monitors like Jody and Jerry must check their assigned boxes at least once a week. They record the number of nests, eggs, hatched eggs and fledged birds. There's a lot of walking through high, wet grass—often to areas of the Arb that most visitors never see.

The fruit of this labor is that bluebirds—a species so beloved that there’s even a North American Bluebird Society—are now thriving in parts of DuPage County. This was unthinkable 25 years ago.

“It's birding with a purpose,” Jody told me, borrowing the DuPage Birding Club’s motto. “It's nice to go birding but it feels good to be helping the birds too.”

And she and Jerry are not just assisting Eastern bluebirds. They keep track of all the birds they see as part of a collaboration between the Bird Conservation Network and Morton Arboretum. Their observations, and those of the other monitors, have a direct influence on habitat management. For example, various open areas at the Arb are no longer mowed during nesting season for the benefit of grassland birds like bobolinks, dickcissels, meadowlarks, savannah sparrows and sedge wrens. We saw each of these species on the morning of my visit, with the exception of sedge wren, which Jerry had seen the week before.

“Just a slight modification in mowing practices can be good,” Jerry said, and he credits the Arb for being willing to manage the habitat based on real-time information provided by the bird monitors.

Not just willing, eager. Kurt Dreisilker, the Arb’s manager of natural resources, is a big fan of the bird monitoring program. The volunteers, he says, keep him well informed about birds inhabiting the grounds, supplementing his own data collection.

“They are incredibly devoted and motivated people,” Dreisilker said, speaking of the Zamirowskis. But he could have been describing any of the two dozen advocates who care so deeply about the Arboretum’s birdlife. It’s nice to see their collective efforts making such a positive difference. “Citizen science” is alive and well, just like the bluebirds.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Bluebird photo by Jody Zamirowski

2009-06-09T06:11:00.000-05:00

Local birding landscape continues to evolve
(published 6-9-09)

One of the things I like most about birding is the surprises. Like the hairy woodpecker that's been visiting my peanut feeder. It has two red spots on its head instead of one. I swear.

Also strange was seeing a pine siskin in my backyard on May 20. I'd never seen one of these “winter finches” so late before—well after the last juncos had headed north. Siskins as well as white-winged crossbills were all over the region this spring, mingling with the warblers. Weird.

Cattle egrets—another big surprise. This spring they were seen grazing in Chicago's Lincoln Park and also at the Morton Arboretum in Lisle. Not many birders, myself included, had ever observed this species in Illinois before.

The cattle egrets, plus my recent acquisition a 45-year-old booklet called Birds of The Morton Arboretum, started me thinking about changes in the local birdlife. What birds are showing up here now that never did before? And which ones were once common but now are rare or completely gone?

I found the booklet at a used book sale and what a treasure! It's even signed by the author. That would be the late Floyd Swink, the Arb's resident bird expert for many years who knew the place like his own backyard.

From Swink's species descriptions it's apparent that our avian landscape has changed a lot since the 1960s. Consider his write-up on the tufted titmouse: “Frequent in the woods; can be seen any time of year; it's cheery whistle is a commonly heard song.” Titmice were a nesting species at the Arb.

Today, finding a titmouse around here takes a lot of luck. The same goes for black terns, which Swink said were “flying over ponds and marshes May through September.” Not any more.

The text indicates that warblers such as cerulean, blue-winged and golden-winged were common, as were bobwhite quail and whip-poor-wills. As birders, we long for those days.

The booklet is also fascinating for the historic sightings it reveals. Like the golden eagle observed at the Arboretum on Nov. 10, 1946, or the burrowing owl seen on April 21, 1953.

One species not listed in the booklet that's been seen annually at the Arb in recent years is the yellow-throated warbler. Cattle egret is absent, too.

Indeed, there are a few other birds that are actually more common here today than 40 years ago. Examples are blue-gray gnatcatcher, red-bellied woodpecker and Carolina wren. The ranges for these species, as with yellow-throated warbler, have expanded northward.

But the hard reality is that a lot of birds are suffering alarming population declines due to habitat loss and other factors. Swink saw it happening 40 years ago, I'm sure, and now the trend is accelerating.

In March, several major conservation groups and government wildlife agencies teamed up to release The State of the Birds. It's an enlightening but sobering report that explains what bird species are in trouble and why. Out of the 800 species you could hope to see in the United States, 67 are listed as federally endangered or threatened. An additional 184 are on a watch list due to their small distribution, high threats or declining populations.

But it's not all doom and gloom. Sidebars in the report tell how some endangered or threatened species have bounced back. Among them: bald eagle, peregrine falcon and American white pelican. Even the rarest of all warblers, Kirtland's, is showing improvement.

Want more good news? In March, the Illinois Endangered Species Protection Board removed Henslow's sparrow, bald eagle and sandhill crane from its priority list.

The connection between birding and conservation has always existed but now it seems to be tightening. This is good, and some would say it's about time.

Birding is fun. That's why we do it. But we need to remember the big picture and give back. For some excellent ideas, check out 101 Ways to Help Birds by Laura Erickson. The State of the Birds report is well worth a look too, including the 7-minute summary video. You can see both at stateofthebirds.org.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2009-05-06T18:53:00.000-05:00

In May, every minute birding is time well spent
(published 5-6-09)

According to some financial advisers, the stock market crash and lingering recession means that those of us who had hoped to retire at 60 or soon after must now work until we are 80. Ouch. By then my eyes and ears might not be so good, and I need them for birding.

I'm exaggerating, of course. No way am I reporting to an office at 80, or even 70. My golden years, hopefully, will be filled with birding. In my yard, in DuPage County and all over the country. If there's any money left, maybe a few international trips, too.

I do envy those who are already retired and those with flexible work schedules. You have the freedom to go birding a lot more often. I had a taste of that a year ago at this time when I was job searching. Naturally I devoted some of my down time to watching birds. On weekdays! What a strange but delicious experience that was after 11 straight years of going to work Monday through Friday.

One morning I went to Elsen's Hill (at West DuPage Woods Forest Preserve in Winfield) and had the place to myself. By noon I'd enjoyed outstanding views of a singing wood thrush; watched an olive-sided flycatcher catch and eat a bumblebee; and heard an odd-sounding common yellowthroat that popped into view and then morphed into my second-ever Connecticut warbler. Wow! If this is “retirement living” then count me in!

Thankfully, my job hunt ended successfully after a few months. So this migration season my time for birding during the week is limited, just like the old days. And once again, I'm looking for ways to add a little more birding time to my daily routine.

One of the great things about birding is that you can do it anywhere. Another is that it doesn't have to be time consuming. Birds are all around, especially now. It's just a matter of noticing them.

Take your lunch outside a few times this month. Sit in that green space outside your office building. Walk, if you can, to the nearest park. Drive to the closest forest preserve. Then fill your binoculars with a scarlet tanager, a Baltimore oriole or indigo bunting. If you're really fortunate, a Blackburnian warbler. But even a less dazzling migrant, like a catbird or flycatcher, can make your day. Just the sound of a catbird is enough for me.

Try to maximize your backyard birding, too. Take your morning coffee or tea outside—a few minutes on the patio can yield surprising rewards. On Easter I watched a migrating American bittern fly over my home, heading north. As “yard birds” go, this one was a complete bonus—a species I never expected to see. Timing is everything!

But it's also the magic of spring, when the treasure hunt we call birding is at its best. What will we see today? In May, the possibilities are always exciting. Keep a pair of binoculars close.

Whatever you do, get out this month and enjoy the birds. Watch them as much as you can—for a few minutes, a lunch hour or all morning long. If you're retired and have lots of time, lucky you! For the rest of us, it helps to remember that “spring migration fever” is a legitimate illness. The best remedy is a day off, weather permitting.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2009-04-28T18:01:00.002-05:00

Seven woodpecker species possible in DuPage
(published 4-29-09)

It was an interesting winter in my backyard, highlighted by three common redpolls at the thistle feeder on Super Sunday. It was the first time we'd hosted this species since moving to Glen Ellyn in 1997!

Another satisfying feeder sighting—on the peanuts, not the thistle—was a pair of hairy woodpeckers. These are not “locally rare” like redpolls but they're far from common in the neighborhood. Until February, in fact, I'd never once seen a hairy use my feeders. It was the kind of small victory that we birders tend to cherish.

This is a good time to discuss woodpeckers because April is when one of our best-named birds passes through our region, on its way north. Yes, there really is a yellow-bellied sapsucker, and now is time to watch for it.

You might see evidence of sapsuckers before you see the bird itself. The telltale sign: a grid pattern of little holes or “sap wells” etched in tree trunk or branch. Their precision woodworking doesn't usually harm the tree, but the holes may be visible for years.

The fruit of their labor, naturally, is sap, which sapsuckers consume with special tongues that have a brush-like tip. The sap attracts insects too, which are a key part of the bird’s diet. Another cool fact: the sap wells can be a food source for hummingbirds in early spring, before nectar is available.

The yellow-bellied sapsucker is one of 22 woodpecker species in North America, and among the seven you can see in DuPage County. The most common by far is the downy. Like the hairy, his larger, look-alike cousin, downy woodpeckers are non-migratory.

Downy vs. hairy is really the only significant identification challenge with the local woodpeckers. The key differentiation is bill size—tiny on the downy, prominent on the hairy. Body size is a good clue as well. If you are used to seeing downies at your feeder and suddenly a hairy flies in, you'll notice the difference. The males of both species have a red spot on their heads.

The four other woodpeckers to look for are red-bellied, Northern flicker, red-headed and pileated. I don’t see red-bellieds in my yard nearly enough, but they are increasingly common in our local woodlands. That wasn’t always the case. Traditionally a “southern woodpecker,” the range for this species has expanded northward in recent decades.

The red-bellied woodpecker, by the way, needs a better name. Its red belly is just a small pinkish area that’s not usually obvious. “Zebra-backed woodpecker” would be a lot more descriptive.

The red-headed woodpecker, which is perfectly named, is hard to find around here. While I dream that one of these striking birds will some day visit my yard, that's not very likely. Their population is sharply declining because of habitat loss; they prefer long-dead, barkless trees in open areas. Churchill Woods Forest Preserve in Glen Ellyn is worth a try if you are searching for a red-headed. When visiting Cantigny Park in Wheaton, check the trees around the First Division Museum.

Northern flickers, unlike other woodpeckers, are often seen on the ground. That's because ants are one of their favorite foods. Flickers are easy to ID in flight—look for a large patch of white on the rump. If you get a good look, the bird's yellow wing and tail linings will be evident, too.

One other woodpecker, the pileated, is considered a prize sighting in DuPage. Field guides indicate the species is possible here year-round. That's true, but actually seeing one is another story. The Chicago region just doesn't seem to hold them.

A year ago I saw my first pileated woodpecker in Illinois while birding at Waterfall Glen Forest Preserve in Darien. It was a fleeting glimpse, but there is no mistaking this species, the largest woodpecker in North America. (Assuming, very reluctantly, that the ivory-billed is extinct.)

Woodpeckers are a pleasure to observe. They are beautiful, conspicuous birds with a lot of personality. I especially like their distinctive markings and their sometimes raucous calls. If there is a red-bellied woodpecker or a flicker in your neighborhood, you'll hear it. To study woodpecker vocalizations, visit the “All About Birds” section of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology website, a terrific online resource.

Finally, another thing to appreciate about woodpeckers is the service they perform for other birds. Species such as kestrels, bluebirds and screech owls—which lack the ability to chisel out their own nesting cavities—sometimes use those created by woodpeckers.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Downy woodpecker photo by Bob Spitzer

2009-03-18T09:47:00.000-05:00

Identifying sparrows: You can do this!
(published 3-18-09)

There will always be certain families of birds that challenge our identification skills more than others. For some it's the warblers, those colorful migrants that tantalize us every spring and then pass through again in the fall, traveling in disguise. I have this image of the males packing away their mating season finery in little trunks, somewhere up in Canada, and then starting their journey south.

But warblers are easy to ID compared with other groups. Some gull species have the annoying habit of assuming different looks during their first three years of life. And the field marks we rely on to tell gulls apart can be subtle at best. Ditto for shorebirds. Trying to sort out the various “peeps” on a busy mudflat or beach is a headache waiting to happen.

Some people think of sparrows as being hard to manage as well. I disagree. True, they all tend to be brownish. Some are even drab. But as with most birds, if you look at sparrows closely you will be rewarded. You'll see the markings that distinguish them, and you will notice a subtle beauty that few take the time to appreciate.

Many sparrow species are quite easy to observe. Most prefer the ground, not the tops of trees. They are less hyperactive than warblers. And, because a big part of their diet is seeds, they like to hang around feeders. Of the 20 or so sparrow species you could expect to see in DuPage County, more than half are potential visitors to your backyard. That includes juncos and towhees, which are sparrows too.

Before going on, let's dispose of House Sparrows. No, not literally, though most of us wish we could. If your backyard is anything like mine, House Sparrows are a pest. There are simply too many of these gluttonous birds, which are actually members of the finch family, imported here from England in the 1850s.

It's the true sparrows that deserve our attention. Most of them are noticeably smaller than House Sparrows, with finer features and markings. They are generally seasonal visitors as well.

Just as robins can be found here in winter, so can several kinds of sparrows. Sightings of Song, Fox or White-Throated Sparrows are not uncommon when the snow flies. This winter, in fact, I occasionally spotted one or two White-Throateds under my feeders. Another species, American Tree Sparrow, only visits this region from late fall through March. To them, Chicagoland is a winter hot spot! They spend the rest of their time on the Arctic tundra.

But now, in March, is when the sparrow activity really starts to pick up. Song Sparrows arrive on the scene first, followed in April by Fox, Chipping, White-Throated and White-Crowned. Watch for them under your feeders and bushes, and try tossing a some millet seed on the ground or patio to help attract them. The Song and Chipping Sparrows will stay with us all summer, while other species head north to their breeding grounds.

This spring, make a point to watch a male White-Throated Sparrow with its bold black and white striped crown and bright yellow spots between the eye and bill. It's a beautiful bird (especially from the neck up) that's easy to observe and deserves a closer look. Seeing one and hearing its sweet song has been known to change a beginning birder's opinion about sparrows!

A few sparrow species, Lincoln's and Field, have visited my yard only once or twice, and I treasure those rare sightings. The finely marked Lincoln's sparrow can be difficult to find anywhere. Field sparrows, on the other hand, are quite common in their usual habitat. (Guess what? They like fields!)

Several local sparrow species require vast grasslands to thrive and for that reason their local populations have been declining. Fortunately, intense restoration efforts at places like Springbrook Prairie Forest Preserve in Naperville are paying dividends.

Springbrook is probably the best local spot to find Henslow's and Grasshopper Sparrows. These are secretive birds, however, so it's a big help to study their songs and call notes before starting your search. If you're new at this, a good strategy is to join other birders on a field trip that focuses on grassland species. Visit dupagebirding.org for a schedule of upcoming trips conducted by the DuPage Birding Club.

It was a Springbrook field trip, in fact, that led me to my first and only Nelson's Sharp-Tailed Sparrow. Now that was a secretive bird! At least Henslow's and Grasshopper will occasionally perch on a weedy stalk or fencepost. Not the Nelson's. It took several hours to finally catch a satisfying glimpse as the bird moved mouselike in the grasses along the edge of a pond. But what a little beauty with its orange face and breast—definitely worth the effort.

I haven't seen all the species that naturally occur in this region. That's okay—it gives me some birds to look forward to. Two of them are sparrows, Vesper and LeConte's. I'll track them down one of these days. Then, just maybe, I'll take on the challenge of those gulls and shorebirds. For birders, there is always something new to learn.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2009-02-03T06:41:00.000-06:00

Recalling RTP, the most famous birder of all
(published 2-3-09)

In the history of American birdwatching, two names stand out: John James Audubon and Roger Tory Peterson. They were the giants, each belonging to a different era. Audubon lived from 1785 to 1851. He was a painter, not a birder as we think of birders today, but he raised the public's appreciation for birds. And of course his namesake organization remains a positive force on conservation issues.

Peterson passed away in 1996 at age 87. He invented the modern field guide in 1934 and spent his life perfecting it. Along the way he established himself as a multitalented bird man, sharing his considerable skills as a writer, painter, photographer, public speaker, ornithologist and educator. Peterson's later years were filled with honors, including the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1980 from Jimmy Carter, an avid birder himself.

In 2008, birding magazines celebrated the 100th anniversary of Peterson's birth. Numerous articles appeared by people who knew Peterson well, and some by people who met him just once and never forgot the encounter. I read them all, attempting to satisfy a personal craving for more information about the man who helped introduce so many of us to the world of birds and nature.

Just the name Roger Tory Peterson recalls my “nature boy” days in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. My favorite magazine then was Ranger Rick, and each year its publisher, the National Wildlife Federation, issued a set of nature stamps. I collected those stamps with a passion, affixing them in the paperback booklets and then placing each year's booklet in a handsome wine-colored album from NWF.

The stamps and supplies were well worth my allowance money because the featured artist was Peterson. How I admired his work and reputation! Though I'd never seen RTP in person or on television, on the hero scale he was right up there with my baseball idols, Roberto Clemente and Brooks Robinson.

Naturally I knew about Peterson's field guides, too. Our home in Ohio contained several from the series, including the one for eastern birds. I used the checklist in the back to record my sightings. Today I keep one Peterson bird guide at home and one at the office. Neither one stays closed for very long.

But while the field guides exhibit the talents of the author and artist, they don't reveal much about Peterson the man. For being such a legendary figure in the fields of birding, ornithology and nature publishing, Peterson kept a low profile. He related well to people and (like Audubon) enjoyed his celebrity status. But RTP had a shy and reclusive side as well.

I only know these things because I just finished reading an outstanding new biography called “Birdwatcher: The Life of Roger Tory Peterson.” Researched and written by Elizabeth J. Rosenthal, this is a book birders have been waiting for. It goes way beyond all the magazine tributes, taking us inside Peterson's remarkable life.

Without taking her subject down a notch, Rosenthal shows us RTP's human side. We learn about his deficiencies as a husband (three wives) and his shortfalls as a father—neither surprising given his workaholic ways and a global travel schedule that included 18 trips to Antarctica to study penguins, his favorite bird family. We're told that he sometimes procrastinated, ate too many sweets and could be a little tight with money.

We also discover that Peterson was not keen on getting up early—quite a liability for a birder! He was a night owl, preferring to work late in his Old Lyme, Connecticut, art studio.

Peterson always had a lot on his plate. He was consumed by projects, including constant updates to his many field guides—eastern birds, western birds, wildflowers, butterflies and more. An unfinished page to the fifth edition of his guide to eastern birds was on his painting easel when he died, which shows how Peterson pushed himself to the very end. We should all be so driven, and our talents so in demand, when we approach 90 years old!

For more information about “Birdwatcher,” visit www.petersonbird.com. And be sure to read the book—you'll be glad you did.

Also worth noting is the new “Peterson Field Guide to Birds of North America,”also released in 2008 and the first time eastern and western species are covered in a single Peterson volume. So, more than 12 years after his death, RTP's body of work continues to grow.

Appropriately, the new guide's cover features a Northern Flicker, the species that sparked Peterson's interest in birds as a boy. His encounter with that woodpecker lasted only a moment, but what a career that moment inspired.

Copyright 2009 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-12-25T11:17:00.000-06:00

Ten ideas for the new year
(published 12-24-08)

This column was born five years ago next month, though not in this newspaper. I'm grateful that the Daily Herald picked it up last spring, essentially promoting Words on Birds to the major leagues. In doing so, the paper also recognized that this birding thing is getting serious.

Birding is now a mainstream hobby, just like fishing, gardening and photography. Because of that, we can now talk about what we do without feeling embarrassed or defensive. I say better to leave those emotions to the folks who call themselves trainspotters!

Sorry, couldn't help myself. Any hobby is a good hobby if you enjoy it and it helps peel away the stresses of everyday life. But let's face it, birding is the best. In my very first column I listed some reasons why this is so. Birding is simple yet challenging. You can do it anywhere at any time. It's inexpensive.

And birding is fun! Whether you are out searching for a particular species or just glancing out the kitchen window, you never know what you might see. Discovery and surprise are as much a part of birding as getting up early.

Something else mentioned in that first column: I'm not an ornithologist. And that hasn't changed. I'm still just a birder who loves the hobby and wants to share it. Words on Birds is delivered in that spirit.

So with that in mind, I'll kick off 2009 with some friendly advice—and a new list! Here are 10 ideas for helping you enjoy birdwatching even more:

1) Upgrade your optics. It might be time. There is a huge difference between cheapo $75 binoculars and a $300 pair designed for birding. Buy what you can afford, but remember that optics and a field guide (see next item) are the hobby's only essential equipment. For buying advice and to see all the options, try the Eagle Optics website. Better yet, take a field trip to the store in Madison and sample the goods.

2) Get another field guide. It really helps to have a second resource, especially when confronted with an ID challenge. I refer to the Peterson, Sibley and National Geographic guides all the time. Each book has unique strengths, and each uses bird illustrations, not photographs. If your only field guide is the photo kind then definitely add an illustrated version to your bookshelf—they are better for highlighting a bird's key features, which simplifies the ID process.

3) Hone your skills, Part I. Assuming your bookshelf has at least one field guide, consider one of these: Sibley's Birding Basics and National Geographic's Birding Essentials. These two paperbacks are highly readable and worth their weight in gold if you want to improve your birding proficiency, no matter what your current skill level.

4) Hone your skills, Part II. Identification becomes a lot easier when you learn songs and call notes. And those who know them tend to find more birds. The Peterson “Birding by Ear” CDs are excellent. If you're an iPod user, look into birdJam or iBird—software packages that turn your device into a powerful electronic field guide.

5) Join a bird club. As president of the DuPage Birding Club I'm hardly an unbiased source. But being a member of any club adds a nice social dimension to the hobby. You can learn a lot from tagging along with expert birders on a local field trip, and you'll see new birds. The guest speakers at club meetings are interesting, too. To find out more about DBC, go to dupagebirding.org. Or e-mail me if you'd like to receive the club's latest newsletter.

6) Go birding in a new place. Joining a club may inspire you to get out more often and visit some new birding spots. Or just go on your own. Maybe there's a forest preserve that you've been driving by for years. Next time stop the car—you might see something new.

7) Sign up for IBET. Once you've sampled the local online birding community it's hard to log off. You'll see daily reports of common and uncommon birds, and you'll know where to go look for them if you are so inclined. On Thanksgiving Day I saw my my first white-winged crossbill in nine years, at the Morton Arboretum. I'd have never known to go there without IBET, short for Illinois Birders Exchanging Thoughts. To join this free listserve, send a blank e-mail to ILbirds-subscribe@yahoogroups.com, wait for the response, then follow the instructions.

8) Add a feeder...Consider a specialty feeder that will help attract more species. A thistle feeder will draw goldfinches and pine siskins, or go with a peanut feeder to attract more chickadees, nuthatches and woodpeckers. And by all means have a hummingbird feeder ready when the calendar hits May.

9) ...and a heated birdbath. Fresh water is a backyard magnet for birds any time of year, and especially during the winter. Cleaning and filling takes discipline when it's frigid outside but the results will justify the effort. For durability, I recommend getting a birdbath that plugs in rather than a heating device that clips on to your existing bath. Your local bird store can show you the options.

10) Keep a log. If you're a regular reader, you know how I feel about list keeping. It can make you a better birder by raising your awareness of where and when species occur in our area. Listing sometimes gets a bad rap because of its competitive undertones. Don't worry about that. Keep track of what you see for the fun of it. Growing your lists can be motivating and a way to chart your progress as a birder.

Now it's time to get out there and bird. Or at least get back to the kitchen window. I wish you all many special sightings in 2009. Please share them with others. It's what birders do.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-12-09T17:16:00.000-06:00

Feathery flashbacks: The best birds of 2008
(published 12-9-08)

The year isn't over yet. A hoary redpoll could still turn up at my thistle feeder. Or I could make local birding headlines by spotting a Bohemian waxwing during the Christmas Bird Count later this month. Hey, it's OK to dream, right?

It's fine to look back, too. No matter what happens in December, I've had a very good year, blessed with many special bird sightings. I hope the same goes for you.

Playing back the great birding moments of the past year is one of my favorite rituals. You should try it yourself—in a comfortable chair by the fire, perhaps with a glass of wine poured from a bottle with a bird on the label. It's a great way to savor the sights and sounds that make our hobby so rewarding.

I used to select a personal Bird of the Year but that was too difficult. Now I choose three: best yard bird, best field bird and best vacation bird. The latter is almost always a “lifer.”

Sometimes the selection process is simple. In 2008, my best yard bird was easily the prothonotary warbler that stopped by early on April 18—about 90 minutes after an earthquake jolted Chicagoland. By 6 a.m. it had already been quite a day! The prothonotary—a species normally associated with swamps—was my first warbler of the spring and a new addition to my yard list. Bright, unmistakable and so unexpected. It was all three. And in a few minutes it was gone. How incredibly lucky I was to have seen it.

Luck plays a big role in birding, we all know that. But sometimes we make our own luck by putting ourselves in exactly the right position to find a most-wanted bird. An American dipper was high on my wish list when we packed up the rental van for an old-fashioned family road trip last June. Our destination was South Dakota, and from pre-trip research I knew that dippers could be found in the Black Hills.

Talk about a unique bird. The American dipper, or “water ouzel,” is at home around fast-moving rocky streams. Plump and mostly gray, the species feeds on aquatic insect larvae and actually goes under water to obtain it. An extra eyelid enables it to see when submerged. This is fascinating to watch, and I was able to do so thanks to some excellent birdfinding advice from the owners of a cabin we rented near Deadwood, S.D. I was thrilled to find dippers in two places, the best known being Roughlock Falls in Spearfish Canyon.

It's a tough choice, because the black-backed woodpecker at Custer State Park was special too. But I'll go with American dipper as my best vacation bird of 2008. I'll remember the dippers just as well as Mount Rushmore. (And I loved Mount Rushmore.)

I was fortunate to have a few more birding opportunities than usual last spring. It was job searching time and one can only spend so many hours a day networking. Three particular excursions stand out. One of them, to Greene Valley Forest Preserve in Woodridge, produced fine views of my second-ever Bell's vireo and a yellow-breasted chat. Both species—always nice finds in DuPage County—prefer dense, scrubby habitat. If not for their loud, distinctive songs I'd have never tracked them down.

In early May, during a bird club outing to Waterfall Glen Forest Preserve in Darien, I caught a brief glimpse of a pileated woodpecker—the first I'd ever seen in Illinois. The pileated is big and impressive, even to a non-birder. Plus they are quite uncommon in these parts.

But my favorite field bird of 2008 occurred at the Morton Arboretum. There, acting on a tip, I located a species that had always eluded me locally. And that's despite the fact that summer tanagers seem to be turning up with greater frequency in DuPage County. On May 28 my luck finally turned. On the Arb's east side, near Parking 7, I encountered a blazing red-orange male that nearly blew out my optics. His mate wasn't bad looking either.

The memory of those tanagers will help sustain me through the long, cold winter ahead. Or at least until the red-winged blackbirds return in late February. By then we'll all be counting down the days until spring migration begins in earnest.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-11-14T07:41:00.000-06:00

Birding with Zick: A lesson in nature
(published 11-14-08)

The list of celebrities in the birding world is not long. But every hobby has a few nationally known standouts who are in constant demand as guest speakers. Last month I got to meet one. Better yet, I went birding with her.

Julie Zickefoose visited Glen Ellyn as a guest of the DuPage Birding Club, flying in from rural southeast Ohio. It is there, on the farm property she shares with her husband and two children, that Julie—or “Zick” as she often calls herself—writes, sketches and paints. These talents are well showcased in Letters From Eden, her 2006 book of essays about the simple pleasures of living with nature.

If the name Zickefoose rings a bell, you're probably a reader of Bird Watcher's Digest. The pint-sized magazine is a favorite among casual and serious birders alike, and Julie is married to the editor, Bill Thompson. Julie's paintings often appear on the magazine's cover and inside pages, plus she contributes the True Nature column. If you're an NPR fan, perhaps you've heard Julie on “All Things Considered,” where she's a regular guest.

Julie's appearance at the bird club was a big hit. More than 100 members and guests turned out, and many of them lined up for the book signing after the presentation. A Glen Ellyn fan club was born. But what I liked most is that Julie's talk went way beyond birding. She told stories about plants and butterflies and box turtles and snakes. This speaker was all about the big picture, the nature all around us.

It was good medicine for those like me who sometimes suffer from birding tunnel vision. The relentless pursuit of birds can keep us from appreciating all the other cool things that are part of their world. And our world.

Zick's message was reinforced for a small group of us the next morning at the Morton Arboretum in Lisle. I knew from her presentation the night before that she'd be good company in the field. She is “down to earth,” funny and not the least bit hung up on her celebrity. I can see her laughing when she reads this. Me famous? Really? That's a good one!

Like the rest of us, Julie was happy to be outside on a spectacular Indian Summer day. Whatever birds we came across would be fine—there was no pressure to impress our guest. (Actually we did hope to show her a red-headed woodpecker but that was not to be. The Arb is a fine place to see one, but my favorite woodpecker is now almost a rarity in DuPage County.)

The first bird we found was dead. A hermit thrush had crashed into a Visitors Center window and was lying just outside the main entrance. Julie scooped it up for a close examination and the way she moved it around with her fingers made the bird seem alive. If anyone could save an injured bird it would be Zick, but it was too late for this one. At least the Field Museum could use it as a study specimen, so we set it aside until later.

Fortunately the next birds we encountered had a pulse—swamp and song sparrows around Meadow Lake. No big deal, except to Zick. She worked hard at photographing them with her long-lens Canon Rebel, treating them like something special. To her, they were.

This was 10 minutes into our walk, and for the next three hours Julie's enthusiasm for everything around us never waned. She stopped to photograph a fox squirrel as if she'd never seen one before. She marveled at a burning orange Chinese sumac, a tree even us locals had never before noticed. And she paused to inspect a ginkgo tree as if it were an endangered species, telling us some things about its architecture and leaf structure that we probably should have known but didn't. Good stuff, and right in front of our faces.

But my favorite part of the morning was when Julie noticed a bushy tree with a lot of bird activity. She suggested that we sit down in the wet grass and just watch it. The tree, a hackberry, was full of ruby-crowned kinglets, plus a palm warbler or two. The chasing kinglets posed a photographic challenge that Zick couldn't pass up. To her credit, she actually landed a decent shot. But then all of us settled on another challenge—to actually see the namesake field mark on one of these hyperactive birds.

Eventually we did spot a kinglet sporting a crimson mohawk. It was a sweet little victory on a day when little things mattered.

After lunch we set out for the airport, a trip that turned into a small adventure when yours truly missed an exit. I confess to suffering the indignity of having to stop at a 7-Eleven in Elk Grove Village for directions. But Julie stayed calm as we chatted away about our kids, two of whom possess bird names. She has a Phoebe, I have a Jay.

We pulled into O'Hare an hour before Julie would begin the journey back to her Eden. I'd like to think that she found a little bit of Eden here as well, in a place so different than Whipple, Ohio. We can find it too, Zick would tell us, if we just open our eyes.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-10-08T21:32:00.002-05:00

Heads up! October is hawkwatching time
(published 10-8-08)

I have no reason to think that I'm being observed. But if my neighbors ever watched me mow the lawn, they'd see something strange: I'm always pausing to look up. And quite often they'd see me stop the mower and jog up to the top of my driveway—to grab my binoculars.

My habit is especially pronounced in the fall, when the sky holds migrating hawks, falcons, eagles and sandhill cranes. Sunny days with cumulus clouds usually offer the best viewing, all the way to Thanksgiving.

Hawkwatching occupies a special niche in the birding world, and those who devote themselves to it are a special breed. They live for this time of year, spending hours upon hours on the tops of hills or other open spaces, waiting and watching for raptors. Those can be mighty cold places, too.

“There's a lot of idle time when nothing is happening,” says Vic Berardi. “But when it gets busy it's a lot of fun.”

As the founder and coordinator for the Illinois Beach State Park (IBSP) Hawk Watch in Zion, Berardi is one of our region's foremost hawkwatchers. The IBSP site is now in its ninth season of full-time hawk migration monitoring.

In favorable conditions, when westerly winds prevail, the volume and variety of migrating hawks and other birds of prey can be astounding. One magical day, in 2003, some 3,500 broad-winged hawks were counted at IBSP. Other common flyovers are red-tailed hawks, sharp-shinned hawks, Cooper's hawks and turkey vultures. Peregrine falcons, kestrels, merlins, bald eagles and northern harriers are usually seen too.

In DuPage County, the best place to go hawkwatching is the hill at Greene Valley Forest Preserve in Woodridge—the highest point around. Organized hawkwatching at Greene Valley began in 2006, initiated by the DuPage Birding Club.

The folks who turn out at IBSP and Greene Valley are hardy souls—and dedicated volunteers as well. By counting the birds, they contribute to a database that monitors North American raptor populations. This is “citizen science” at its best, conducted in the name of bird conservation.

So it's serious work at the hawk watch sites, but also a labor of love. Veteran hawkwatchers long for big days, when up to 15 different species of raptors can be observed. These include rarities such as northern goshawk, rough-legged hawk and our two eagles, bald and golden. In fact, six golden eagles were seen at the Greene Valley site in 2006, and three in 2007. And just a few weeks ago, on Sept. 20, a Swainson's hawk passed over IBSP—the fifth one in the last three years.

Another highlight of the hawkwatching season is the swirling flocks or “kettles” of broad-winged hawks. With patience, you can witness this fall phenomenon from your own backyard. The birds will likely be very high, appearing almost as specks. But with good binoculars you can see their distinctive black and white tail bands.

The challenge of identification is certainly part of hawkwatching's appeal. After all, most raptors are seldom seen perched—they must be identified when in flight. Keen ID skills are especially important during fall migration, and they are generally earned through countless hours of field observation. Experts can spot a flying raptor at great distances and know the species without the benefit of seeing specific markings or colors. Instead, they use clues such as size, overall shape and how the wings are held when the bird is soaring.

Luckily, there are some great books on the subject to assist novices like me. Berardi recommends two in particular: “Hawks in Flight,” the classic by Pete Dunne, David Sibley and Clay Sutton, and “Hawks From Every Angle,” by Jerry Liguori.

Regular field guides are useful too—especially those that illustrate birds of prey as they appear from below, when flying over. The Peterson and Sibley guides do this quite well.

This month, try to get outside as often as possible and scan the skies. Even when you're cutting the grass or raking leaves. After all, some chores are just birding opportunities in disguise.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Broad-winged hawk photo by Vic Berardi

2008-09-20T06:24:00.000-05:00

Keeping track of what you see
(published 9-16-08)

Does the name Sandy Komito ring a bell? Probably not, unless you read “The Big Year,” a book about three men who in 1998 each tried to set a record for the most North American bird species seen in a calendar year. Komito won handily, with 748 species. It's a record that may never be broken.

Komito, a New Jersey native now living in Florida, visited the DuPage Birding Club in July. His bird-by-bird account of his 1998 adventures was fascinating because most of us simply wondered how somebody could possibly see so many birds in one year. The answer had a lot to do with time and money—Komito, a self-made man, had plenty of each.

Truth is, not everyone in the room was impressed. The competitive side of birding is a turn-off for some, and then there's the carbon footprint issue. In most forms, a “big year” is anything but green. Komito, for example, never hesitated to book last-minute cross-country flights to see a single rare bird.

But “extreme listers” like Sandy Komito are themselves rare birds. Most of us keep lists, but we do it for fun, not sport. I think that's how it should be.

Of course, you don't have to be a lister to enjoy birding. There is nothing wrong with not knowing how many species you've seen in your life, or how many kinds of birds you've spotted in your backyard. For me, though, keeping track of these things is a way to chart my progress as a birder. List keeping also motivates me to keep an eye out for new birds, or birds in new places.

My lists are relatively few, with life list and yard list being the most meaningful. I'd be fine if I could only keep those two. But why stop there? I recently made room for another—a list of the birds I've seen in Illinois. The trigger was a small colony of purple martins at Cantigny Park in Wheaton. Watching the birds, it dawned on me that I'd never before seen a martin in this state, my home since 1989.

Well, then I started thinking about a bunch of other cool birds I've seen in Illinois—some being species not easily observed in this region. This past spring I had two state “lifers,” a yellow-crowned night heron in Chicago and a pileated woodpecker at Waterfall Glen Forest Preserve in Darien. And two trips to Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie have yielded northern mockingbird, upland sandpiper and loggerhead shrike—the only place I've seen these species in Illinois.

My best Illinois bird, and one of my favorite sightings of all time, was the scissor-tailed flycatcher that visited the Batavia River Walk in 1998. It took me three visits to Batavia before I finally located this spectacular bird, which fortunately stayed in the same general area for several weeks. Scissor-tailed flycatchers, I've heard, are a dime a dozen in places like Oklahoma, where it's the state bird. But what a thrill to see my first one so close to home!

I'm especially excited about my new Illinois list because of its growth potential. Next spring I hope to explore extreme southern Illinois for the first time, where species like blue grosbeak, worm-eating warbler and Kentucky warbler are waiting if you know where to look. I might even take a side trip to Prairie Ridge State Natural Area (near Newton in Jasper County) and try for greater prairie chicken. Only a few hundred of these charismatic birds survive in our state, due mainly to habitat loss.

The fun of listing applies to the backyard, too. If you birdwatch at home, I highly recommend keeping two lists. The first is simply a log of all the species you've ever seen in or from your yard. That means “flyovers” count, and so does that scarlet tanager in the top our your neighbor's tree. A growing list is your reward for expanding your field of view beyond the feeders and birdbath.

The other backyard list I recommend is a record of the species you see each year and when you see them. I started doing this in 2003. So far my best “yard year” was 88 species in 2007, but my 2008 list is already up to 86. With a little luck, the upcoming fall migration will carry me to a new personal record.

One interesting aspect of an annual yard list is arrival dates. What's the earliest you've seen a junco in the fall? And when can you expect that first golden-crowned kinglet in the spring? With careful recordkeeping, your annual yard lists will answer questions like these and serve as valuable reference tools. Keep them all together—the patterns they reveal can be fascinating.

No matter how you approach listing, have fun with it. Keep track of whatever is meaningful to you personally. Those are the only lists that really matter.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-08-05T11:44:00.000-05:00

Get ready for nighthawks and hummingbirds
(published 8-5-08)

Except for the most hard-core birders, these are the “dog days” of summer. Things are a bit slow. There are birds to be found, but nothing like the variety of species we enjoy during the spring and fall migration seasons, when every day seems to bring a new surprise.

But now is also a time of anticipation. Two of my favorite annual birding events are just days or weeks away. First, the appearance of migrating common nighthawks. Then, in September, the almost magical influx of ruby-throated hummingbirds.

First let's talk about nighthawks. There is no better time than mid-August to mid-September to observe them, when large flocks are moving south toward their wintering grounds in South America. With a little patience, common nighthawks can be viewed from any backyard in DuPage County.

They are fun birds to watch, and often you'll hear them first. Nighthawks have a loud, buzzy one-syllable flight call that is unmistakable. Learn that sound, and then it's just a matter of looking up to find the bird. A good resource for bird calls is www.birds.cornell.edu. From the home page, click on “All About Birds” and then select the online bird guide to listen to a common nighthawk. (Take time to explore the rest of the site, too. A product of the Cornell University's Lab of Ornithology, it's loaded with great information about birds and birding.)

The common nighthawk is easy to identify by sight as well. It's a dark, robin-sized bird with long pointy wings sporting white patches near the tips. Nighthawks are further distinguished by a floppy, erratic flight pattern as they feed on flying insects, their only food source. Given their diet, it's no surprise that nighthawks are not “hawks” at all. They belong to a family of birds called the nightjars, which includes the whip-poor-will.

Nighthawks are most active around dusk or at daybreak, but every now and then you'll see one in broad daylight. They're also known to congregate near bright lights, just like moths. When I go to night baseball games I always watch for them.

You have to be very lucky to ever see a nighthawk sitting still. Their coloration makes them virtually invisible when they roost during the day, typically on the ground or lengthwise on a branch.

The timing for migrating nighthawks varies year to year. In 2007, I didn't see one until August 27. In 2006, August 15 was my first sighting. The species does breed in this region so spring and summer sightings do occur, but its not until later this month that we can observe them in numbers, sometimes in swirling flocks of 50 or more birds. Enjoy the show!

Meanwhile, down on the ground, we are fast approaching the best time of year for attracting hummingbirds. Some of you may have been enjoying hummers throughout the summer. In my yard, however, the pattern has always been a few birds in May, none during the summer, and then lots in September. So be sure to have your sugar-water feeders up and ready by Labor Day.

The volume of advice on how to attract hummingbirds is astounding. Entire books exist on the subject, which says a lot about how much people cherish these unique birds. In general, sugar-water should be viewed as a secondary food source; flowering gardens with lots of red, trumpet-shaped blooms are the best hummingbird magnet of all.

Frankly, I've dropped the ball in terms of landscaping for hummingbirds. I rely instead on two feeders, placed about 20 feet apart. The dual-feeder strategy, which I applied last year for the first time, really does the trick. Hummingbirds are territorial, and some individual birds can be quite aggressive. So it's best to give them some space. Having multiple feeders can not only increase the activity level in your yard but also keep the birds coming back.

If you're in the market for a feeder, I recommend a simple plastic model that's easy to fill and clean. My favorite is the HummZinger, which comes in several sizes. Get the smallest—it has just the right capacity to help minimize waste, since you'll need to replace the sugar-water at least once a week. The feeder is mostly red so hummingbirds are sure to notice it.

There can never be too many hummingbirds outside my kitchen window. Maybe this month I'll invest in a third feeder.

Finally, a mark-your-calendar item: On October 9, the DuPage Birding Club will welcome renowned nature author and artist Julie Zickefoose. She'll discuss and sign copies of her latest book, “Letters from Eden.” All are welcome. For more information, visit dupagebirding.org or call (630) 487-0323.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-07-08T20:32:00.000-05:00

South Dakota road trip produces great birding memories
(published 7-8-08)

I read a lot of bird books, and my all-time favorite is “Kingbird Highway” by Kenn Kaufman. It's the best birding adventure book I know. Even so, I'd never read it a second time until just before a family trip to South Dakota in June. I'm glad I did—for birders, Kaufman's memoir is the perfect read before hitting the open road.

We left on June 8, the start of a 10-day trip that would cover 2,400 miles in a rented minivan. This was a family vacation, not a birding trip. But clearly there would be excellent chances to see some new species, as well as some western birds that I'd only seen once or twice before. Weeks before we left Glen Ellyn, I spent hours thumbing through my Sibley guide, dreaming of the possibilities. I also acquired a book on birds of the Black Hills, which naturally raised a my birding fever a few more degrees.

The first notable birds occurred long before we reached South Dakota. Just after crossing the Mississippi River on I-90, we stopped at the Minnesota welcome center to stretch. Looking east toward La Crosse, I scanned the river for bald eagles and found one almost instantly. Moments later a black tern went coursing by. These would not be last “good birds” that I'd see while visiting rest areas on the trip. Lesson: Every pit stop is a birding opportunity!

We reached the Badlands on our second day. Before entering the national park we stopped at a scenic overlook to drink in the strange and beautiful landscape. That would have been plenty, but some locally common birds made that little pause even better. A Swainson's hawk was soaring low right above us, and a lark bunting and singing western meadowlark perched on a fence close to the parking area.

I was greatly impressed by the Badlands. The rock formations, the wildflowers, the big sky. Everything. We were greeted by a mountain bluebird at one of our first stops inside the park, and we'd be treated to many more of these powder-blue beauties. Say's phoebe, rock wren, white-throated swift, black-billed magpie, blue grosbeak, spotted towhee and lark sparrow were among other species I found inside the park. Nothing rare, but each one a treat.

After the Badlands we pushed on to our rented cabin the Black Hills, near Deadwood. This would be a chance for some woodland birding, and I aimed to make the most of it with early morning walks before the family was up. The most colorful sighting was a western tanager, a bird I'd encountered only once before, in Arizona. Black-headed grosbeak, Cordilleran flycatcher and Townsend's solitaire were other highlights on the property.

Our cabin was at the edge of a large open meadow, so from the porch it was easy to watch for soaring raptors. I twice spotted a golden eagle high in the sky, identifiable by its overall darkness and shape. This was one of my “target birds” for the trip, and I was to see another eagle at Wind Cave National Park in a few days.

Another target was American dipper, a truly unique species and a local specialty in the Black Hills.That is, if you know where to look. The cabin owners, birders themselves, were glad to help. They directed me to the Spearfish Canyon, which happily was right on our way to Devil's Tower in Wyoming, a planned day trip. I found a single dipper in three different locations, the most famous being Roughlock Falls. This was a fun bird to watch as it dipped in and out of the quick-moving mountain streams.

My next “lifer” was a total surprise. On our way to Rushmore one day we stopped at the gleaming visitor center for Black Hills National Forest. A pair of mountain bluebirds was nesting on site, and violet-green swallows were darting about. The center also featured some well-stocked bird feeders, and at one of them I quickly noticed an unfamiliar bird. A red crossbill! The olive-yellow female was soon joined by the more reddish male. Then a couple more females arrived. It was a great show, and completely unexpected.

My best birding moment of the trip occurred at Custer State Park. I knew that three species of woodpeckers that I'd never seen were native in the Black Hills—Lewis's, three-toed and black-backed. Finding any one of them would take time and some luck. At Custer, I got my chance. Driving on the Wildlife Loop, we passed a forested hillside blackened by fire. It looked like perfect black-backed woodpecker habitat based on my pre-trip research.

While my family patiently waited in the van—it was Father's Day, so they were in a compliant mood—I began hiking up the hillside. There was almost no undergrowth, just pine needles, so the walking was easy. I soon heard a drumming sound but the source turned out to be a hairy woodpecker. Then I heard more drumming, close but from a different direction. Obviously I was in the right place for woodpeckers! Moments later, a black-backed revealed itself. I watched as it moved from tree to tree, keeping its distance but still allowing me good views.

Mission completed, I practically flew back down the hill to the van. Nothing beats the feeling of finding a special bird completely on your own.

I'd been dreading the two-day drive back to Glen Ellyn but the first day was a lot more tolerable thanks to some interesting roadside attractions. No, not Wall Drug or the Corn Palace. This is about birds, remember?

One especially nice rest area, on the east bank of the Missouri River, featured a short nature trail where I found singing dickcissels, a grassland species. That was a new “trip bird,” as was the long-billed curlew that flew low over the highway about an hour later. I don't keep a list of birds spotted from a moving vehicle, honest, but the curlew made me think about starting one.

There were lots of little ponds or “potholes” along I-90, and many of them held waterfowl. The urge to pull over and have a closer look was strong but that would have been dangerous. Thankfully, even at 70 mph it was easy to enjoy the yellow-headed blackbirds in the cattail stands. They are spectacular birds, larger than their red-winged cousins.

To compare my trip to Kenn Kaufman's 1973 odyssey would be preposterous. For an entire year, at age 17, he hitchhiked around the country on a shoestring budget. We drove to South Dakota in a minivan and spent freely. But I do relate easily to Kaufman's desire to see new birds in new habitats. That desire makes every trip a little more interesting, no matter how you choose to travel.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-06-22T06:32:00.000-05:00

Special birds deliver the moments we savor
(published 6-10-08)

There's a TV ad I've been seeing where one stranger says to another, “Congratulations on your moment.” I like that line, and lately I've been hearing it in my head when I spot an amazing bird—especially when I'm alone.

Don't worry, I'm not losing it. It's just a little celebration ritual—my way of savoring the moment when I find myself in exactly the right place at the right time.

I enjoyed many great birding moments this spring—some alone and some with others—and hope you did, too. During April and May I was between jobs so I had more time than usual to enjoy the migration season. What a great time of year to be unemployed! (I can say that now that I've landed a new gig.)

Most of my mornings began outside on the patio watching, listening and sipping coffee to stay warm. One day was by far the best, with 15 species of warblers spotted.

My list included a Blackburnian, the flame-throated warbler that every birder longs to see each spring. Like a Baltimore oriole, indigo bunting or scarlet tanager, the Blackburnian warbler is one of those “wow” birds that can turn anybody into a committed birder. See one and you never forget it. And then you just want to see it again.

Of course, many less dazzling birds are still coveted by those of us who practice this hobby. How else to explain my excitement over an orange-crowned warbler? It's a rather drably dressed species that can be tricky to identify; the “orange crown” is virtually invisible. I'd never positively seen this bird in my yard before, so when one came along and gave me a good close look, I was up to the challenge. Species No. 106 on my all-time yard list. Congratulations on your moment.

Several more memorable birding moments occurred on May 22 at the Elsen's Hill area of West DuPage Woods Forest Preserve in Winfield. It was a sparkling day—ideal for seeing a wide variety of warblers. That was not to be, but what I did find was even better.

Almost from the time I stepped out of the car I could hear the flute-like sound of a wood thrush in the distance. It's a classic voice of the Eastern forest, and some would say it's the most beautiful bird song of all. Just listening was enough, but about an hour into my walk I realized the bird was quite close. Taking soft, gentle steps off the trail, I surprised myself by actually locating the singing thrush. It was perched on a branch about 20 feet up with it's back to me. What a treat it was to both see and hear this uncommon and declining species. Congratulations on your moment.

But the best was yet to come. Soon I walked into a clearing and noticed a bird sitting on a dead limb. I knew by its profile and stillness that it must be a flycatcher of some kind. I moved a little closer and saw the clean white belly and dark flanks that gave the bird a vested look.

Now, I'm thinking olive-sided flycatcher, which would be a terrific find. But I needed a better look, so I kept moving to get a different angle with the sun behind me. Fortunately, this bird wasn't timid. It held its position as I conducted a thorough study from head to tail. I saw white feather tufts on its back, confirming the ID, and then watched as the bird twice sallied out from its perch to snare a bumblebee.

But my morning at Elsen's Hill wasn't finished. As I was enjoying the olive-sided flycatcher, I heard a loud birdsong coming from a scrubby area just off the trail. The source then revealed itself, flying across the trail to a tree next to the one with the flycatcher. When I saw the bold white eye ring my heart skipped a beat. Then the bird turned toward me, exposed in perfect light. It was a Connecticut warbler, a truly difficult species to observe in this region. Congratulations on your moment.

Later, checking my log, I found that my only previous olive-sided flycatcher occurred at Indiana Dunes State Park in 1998. The Connecticut warbler also was a second-ever sighting, the first coming in 1999.

My morning at Elsen's Hill was another reminder that birding is all about great moments, and that some of the best ones invariably happen when we're alone.

I'm fine with that.

Unless it's an ivory-billed woodpecker, I don't need a witness to enjoy a good find. But I do like hearing that voice.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-05-14T15:22:00.001-05:00

Warblers highlight peak season for birdwatchers
(published 5-13-08)

This is the time of year when the treasure hunt we call birding is at its best. I look forward to May like a college basketball fan looks forward to March. For birders, it’s May Madness, when spring migration reaches its peak.

A lot of my birdwatching takes place in the backyard, and every spring I'm amazed by the variety of birds that can be seen. Not so much at the feeders, but in the shrubs, on the ground and in the treetops. Be alert for unusual visitors and you'll be rewarded. Funny thing about birding—the more you look the more you see.

It's good to be lucky, too. How else could I explain the dazzling Prothonotary Warbler that momentarily graced my backyard on April 18? It was far from its usual swampy habitat, so I was extremely fortunate that the bird happened by at just the right time. It was a new species for my yard list, No. 105, and how easily I could have missed it!

Hopefully you will enjoy a similar experience this month, or maybe several. The memory of spotting an exciting or completely unexpected bird will serve you well when the birding hits a lull in July, or when the snow starts flying in November. What will be your personal Bird of the Year? There's a good chance that you'll see it this month, and it might well belong to the family of birds known as warblers.

With so many interesting birds, it’s hard to play favorites. But it's a fact: Warbers are the focus (or obsession) for most birders from mid-April until the end of May. We love these neotropical migrants for their vivid colors, sweet vocalizations and, yes, their elusiveness. Finding and identifying them can be a challenge, but it’s an enjoyable one.

In “Going Wild,” author Robert Winkler devotes a chapter to warblers.

“Unless I see at least 30 [species] in May, when their numbers peak, I feel I haven’t paid fitting tribute to the spring migration,” he writes. “No songbirds evince the power, beauty and mystery of migration more spectacularly than the warblers.”

I haven't seen more than 20 different kinds of warblers during any given spring. Nevertheless, a few of the 41 warblers on my life list are among my all-time most memorable sightings. In fact, it was a male Hooded Warbler that ignited my passion for birds about 14 years ago. And I’ll never forget my first Blue-Winged Warbler, spotted in downtown Chicago of all places. A Cerulean Warbler at Indiana Dunes State Park and the ultra-rare Kirtland’s Warbler in northern Michigan also stand out.

Still, my warbler resumé has some gaps. I’m still waiting to see my first Kentucky Warbler, Worm-Eating Warbler and Louisiana Waterthrush—three species that are uncommon but certainly present in this region during migration.

It’s a different game at home, where quite a few warblers that I've seen “in the field” have still not signed my backyard guest book. I’m still waiting for a Mourning Warbler, for example, and a Connecticut. These are unlikely backyard birds, even in May, but the same could be said about the Prothonotary. Almost anything is possible, and that proved it. So I'll happily keep checking my trees and bushes, hoping for another magical moment.

Anticipating those moments, and savoring them later, is part of what makes birding so much fun.

A few warbler-watching tips:

-- Get up early, when birds are most active, and survey your backyard. Look for movement in the shrubs and treetops
-- Obtain a good field guide, and place a bookmark in the warbler section
-- Join a field trip with the DuPage Birding Club (dupagebirding.org) or Kane County Audubon (kanecountyaudubon.org)
-- Consider upgrading your binoculars
-- Purchase “Watching Warblers,” a wonderful DVD that helps identify the birds by sight and sound (birdfilms.com)

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-04-24T08:46:00.001-05:00

Backyard gold
(published 5-15-08)

Last Friday an earthquake woke me up. Then a bird rocked my world.

The quake that all Chicago was talking about occurred at 4:36 a.m. and measured 5.2 on the Richter scale. That's a big one, and it really did interrupt my slumber. But what really gave me a jolt was the Prothonotary Warbler that visited my yard a few hours later. It was a first for my Yard List, species No. 105, and quite possibly the best. Bright, unmistakable and so unexpected. It was all of these things.

It was also my first warbler of the spring. What a start!

Funny, the day before, a Prothonotary Warbler was reported at Lyman Woods on IBET, the birding list-serve. I remember seeing that post and thinking I might go over to Lyman on Friday and try to see it. It would only be a 5-mile drive. Turns out the bird came to me.

To say the least, Prothonotary Warbler is not a bird I ever expected to see in the yard. They like stagnant water and swamps. That's the habitat where I saw my first Prothonotary--in Tampa, in 1998. It would be five years before I saw my second, at Kiawah Island, S.C.

But during migration, birds turn up in odd places. Almost anything is possible.

I saw the bird immediately as I stepped into the backyard to begin my daily spring ritual of scattering millet and cracked corn for the birds. There, climbing on the fence vines about 40 feet away was a glowing yellow bird. Not a goldfinch, I knew that. But my binoculars were inside!

I dashed in the house and quickly focused my bins on the fence, looking through the sliding door in our kitchen. The bird was still there, practically posing. That's when I knew for sure, a Prothonotary! I hustled back outside and enjoyed a few more good looks from even closer range.

It's quite possible that I was still in shock at that point. How else to explain my next move? I raced upstairs to alert my wife about the bird. Two problems. One, she was still asleep. Two, she's not a birder. But hey, we're talking about a Prothonotary Warbler here! Maybe the only time one will ever visit the yard! Sensing the urgency--or more likely, just humoring me--Catherine climbed out of the sack and stumbled over to the bathroom window that overlooks our backyard. But too late, the warbler was out of sight. Oh well, there will be other chances. Just not in this lifetime.

I went back downstairs and looked again but no luck. But that was okay, I'd had enough luck already.

Then I started thinking. Where was the bird now? Did anyone else in the neighborhood see it and appreciate it? Where would the bird be at the end of the day? Oh, and did it feel the earthquake, too?

Another question I had was off the wall: When an unusual bird like this comes around, do the other birds notice? My 7-year-old son and I answered that question with another: How could they not? To a House Sparrow, for example, a Prothonotary Warbler would almost certainly be a new and unusual sight.

It doesn't matter, of course. The warbler was just living its life, and that morning I was living mine in exactly the right place at the right time.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-04-13T11:03:00.002-05:00

Area birding clubs give hobby a social dimension
(published 4-24-08)

I subscribe to a free e-mail list for birders--a place where fanatics like me can post their bird sightings and share information. One person wrote to the group looking for advice. She was a beginning birder who claimed to have seen all the common birds in her backyard and neighborhood and wanted to know how to expand her "life list." One response, from a birder in Palatine, suggested that she “Join the local bird clubs and go on all their field trips.” Great answer, I thought.

There is no doubt that joining a club opens up opportunities to see more birds. The outings focus on local “hot spots,” and the leaders are usually experts who can identify virtually any bird by sight or sound. Plus, you’ll generally see a greater variety of species when birding in a small group simply because more people are looking and listening.

We are fortunate to have two excellent birdwatching clubs in this area: the DuPage Birding Club and the Kane County Audubon Society. Joining either one would be a great way to take your interest in birds to the next level.

Members of these clubs range from beginners to highly advanced birders. Some watch birds primarily in their backyards; some have birded all over the world. But the wide range of experience and skill levels is not a problem. Most birders, I’ve found, are friendly and helpful--another reason why this hobby is so easy to enter. The expert birders seem to really enjoy the teaching role. In the field, they go out of their way to help beginners see and identify the birds.

When I moved to Glen Ellyn 10 years ago I knew nothing about the local bird scene. The DuPage Birding Club was just what I needed. The club’s meetings, guest speakers, newsletter and field trips brought me up to speed quickly. Without the club, I may have never have participated in the Christmas Bird Count, gone on a woodcock watch or “discovered” some of this area’s best birding sites. There’s something very motivating about these clubs--they'll get you out and about, to places you might never go on your own.

The DuPage Birding Club was founded in 1985 and has more than 200 members. Meetings are held at the IIT Rice Center campus in Wheaton. For more information, visit www.dupagebirding.org. To receive a sample newsletter, call 630-887-7951 or e-mail yadempsey@birches.net.

Kane County Audubon began in 1966 and has about 110 members. Most meetings take place at Peck Farm in Geneva. For more information, go to www.kanecountyaudubon.org. You can also call 630-584-8386 or e-mail randrini@aol.com.

With either club, you needn’t be a member to attend a meeting or field trip--guests are always welcome. Even if you participate in a small fraction of a club’s activities, you’re bound to meet some nice people who share your passion for birds. That’s the greatest club benefit of all.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-04-07T11:55:00.002-05:00

Hail to the kinglets and other April birds
(published 4-3-08)

T.S. Eliot called April “the cruelest month.” I guess he wasn’t a birder.

I love this time of year. The days are getting longer and that means more time to watch birds. Best of all, there’s more to see! Look carefully and you may spot some interesting birds right in your backyard—migrating species that we haven’t seen since fall, or maybe since April of 2007.

Let’s start with the kinglets—golden-crowned and ruby-crowned. These tiny, aptly named birds seem propelled by nervous energy. They’re always in motion, flicking their wings and sometimes hovering as they feed. Golden-crowns appear in our region first, and of the two kinglet species these tend to be the least common in my yard. Some Aprils I don’t see them at all. By mid-month they are gone, off to their North Woods breeding grounds.

Ruby-crowned kinglets are on a slightly later schedule. They arrive in mid-April and often stay into early May. It’s always a challenge to see the male’s scarlet tuft, which is usually concealed.

There are many more April specialties to watch for. Some, like the kinglets, are just passing through. See them now or your next good chance will be in the fall. Fox sparrow, winter wren, brown creeper, hermit thrush and yellow-bellied sapsucker, for instance.

My yard records include about a dozen one-time sightings, and two of them—blue-gray gnatcatcher and Eastern towhee—are generally April-arriving species. Although these birds nest in our region, this month may be the best opportunity to spot them in backyard habitats.

Gnatcatchers like to forage high in trees, moving about quickly like the kinglets. Their white eye-rings and extra-long tails are distinctive. Seeing these features on distant birds can be tough, but at least in April the trees are still mostly bare. Something else in our favor is that the seasonal gnatcatcher population is said to be growing in the Midwest.

Towhees are large members of the sparrow family, which explains why they’re normally seen on the ground scratching for food. The one that visited my yard, a male, was in the grass below my feeders. That was surprising since towhees are typically more secretive. This one wasn’t shy at all, and even performed its sweet “drink your tea” song.

To see even more April species, be sure to take a few walks in the parks and forest preserves. A birding hot spot on my agenda is Nelson Lake Marsh in Batavia. A flock of migrating American white pelicans has visited the Kane County preserve in early April for the past five years. Hopefully, this will make six.

Finally, while nothing beats actual birding, one of my favorite April rituals is to pop “Watching Warblers” into the VCR. It’s a beautifully made film that documents by video and sound all 39 warbler species in the Eastern United States. I can’t think of a better way to prepare for the color and excitement that awaits us in May, when spring migration reaches its peak. The warblers are coming, and so are Baltimore orioles, scarlet tanagers and indigo buntings.

Come to think of it, that’s another thing I like about April—the anticipation. The birding is great now, but the best is yet to come.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-03-08T09:14:00.001-06:00

A purple surprise
(posted 3-8-08)

OK, it wasn't really purple. Not literally. In fact, it was a Little Brown Job.

Fortunately, I looked a little closer at the bird perched on my black-oil sunflower tube feeder on February 9. Behold, a Purple Finch! It was a female, making it quite easy to identify. Purple Finch is a species where the female is more obvious than the male. Usually it's the other way around.

The brown and cream-colored head pattern was unmistakable, and not seen in my backyard since October 2005. That was the only other time a Purple Finch (two or three females as I recall) came to visit.

I look forward to when a male finally shows up, and when it does I'll make sure it's not just a House Finch. The two can be confused, but the Purple Finch male lacks streaking on the flanks and its head and breast color is more raspberry than the red-orange sported by the House. It's a handsome bird.

When I saw the female last month I knew instantly it was a Second Sighting for the yard. Second Sightings are special. They make the Yard List, Life List or any other list a little richer.

And no doubt, Second Sightings are sometimes more satisfying than the first. I thought of this recently when I settled the score with an old nemesis species, the Common Redpoll. My first redpoll sighting occurred at Fermilab in 1999. Talk about a frustrating lifer. There were three birds, and by the time I got my binocs on them they were gone. At most I enjoyed a two-second peak, and our group never relocated the birds.

I had really hoped to see a redpoll at my thistle feeder this winter, which would have been a first. Lots of other birders have reported them, so it's clearly been a good year for this species in our region. Many years, redpolls are virtually impossible to find around here.

Not wanting to let a good opportunity get away, I went looking for redpolls at Springbrook Golf Course in Naperville on February 23. I'd heard through friends in the DuPage Birding Club that redpolls have been regular visitors this winter to the thistle feeders hanging by the maintenance shed, just off 83rd Street near Book Road.

Pulling into the driveway, the first thing I noticed was male Ring-Necked Pheasant. How could I not? What a striking bird. He'd probably been cleaning up spilled seed under the feeders. Without even leaving the car, I then focused on the large hanging thistle sacks. Within moments, I saw them--Common Redpolls coming and going, unconcerned by my presence. Because of that day at Fermi, this wasn't a "lifer," but it sure felt like one. I watched the redpolls for 10 minutes or so from different angles, savoring my Second Sighting of this often elusive winter finch.

A high-quality Second Sighting can be a worthy goal. You probably know without checking some of the birds you've only seen once. Think especially about species you've seen but not seen well, or have not seen for many years. Then get busy and track them down. Spring is a great season for treasure hunting.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2008-02-02T16:29:00.000-06:00

An Owlish January
(posted 2-2-08)

When I woke up on January 9th I had never once seen a Long-Eared Owl. By noon I'd seen eight, all but one in the same tree!

Starting off a new year with an easy "lifer" is great. It happened in 2007, too, when I spotted the pair of Harlequin Ducks that lingered for at least six weeks near Chicago's North Avenue Beach.

The roosting Long-Eared Owls also were "downtown birds," and that's what made them a big story—for birders and the general public alike. Chicago's major newspapers and several TV stations provided coverage, a few employing all-too-predictable phrases like "birdwatchers are flocking" and "giving a hoot." But that was OK. It really was a remarkable natural event and I, for one, was happy to see it play out in such a public manner. A lot of people were able to see their first owl of any kind in the wild, and right in the city!

A nice side story is that the occasion afforded a terrific teaching opportunity. That's because the roost site was in a park next to a South Loop elementary school. Easy to observe owls, just outside the classroom—what could be better?

For me it was a simple matter of jumping on a bus during lunch hour. I left my office at Tribune Tower at 11:30 and was back in exactly 60 minutes. Even the CTA worked in my favor that day! It was a noon-time owl prowl that I'll never forget.

Later in January I had another owl encounter and a teaching opportunity of my own. This time the event was in my own backyard, thanks to a visiting Great-Horned Owl. I was outside filling the feeders about 6:15 when I heard the unmistakable hoots. It really surprised me because I'd never heard an owl so early in the evening—two or three in the morning is more typical. So without wasting another second I ran through the garage and swung open the door to the kitchen, calling for Rachel (age 12) and Jay (7) to put on their coats and boots.
The kids mobilized quickly, trusting that my own state of excitement signified something worthy of their efforts. Back outside, the owl was still calling, and from pretty close range. I suggested that we listen for a minute or two before attempting to actually see the bird. Then, after creeping to the back corner of the yard, I spotted the bird at the top of a tall pine, about one lot over. A second later, the big owl lifted off. Jay was at my side and got a quick glimpse. Rachel didn't see the bird but hearing it was all that really mattered. She and her little brother really seemed pleased by the experience, which lasted all of five minutes. Or were they were just humoring their "bird man" father? Nah.

So for me, January was mostly about owls. But one other highlight this winter has been the Hermit Thrush that I mentioned in my previous post. This winter rarity continues to drink from the heated birdbath, and that's all the motivation I need to keep cleaning and filling the saucer every day, no matter what the weather conditions. It makes me feel needed. Truth is, the thrush and all the other birds give me a lot more than I give them.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All Rights Reserved.

2008-01-04T08:25:00.000-06:00

Siskins, just in time!
(posted 1-4-08)

The backyard birding year could not have ended any better for me. On the last day of 2007, a small flock of Pine Siskins appeared at my thistle tube feeder—an event I'd been waiting for since early November. They were my first “yard siskins” in four years, and they pushed my annual species count to 88. My best previous yard year was 79 species in 2005.

I'll be trying, but I can't imagine topping 88 species in 2008. I had more than my fair share of birding luck in 2007, with the New Year's Eve siskins perhaps the best case in point. Five or six birds came to the thistle around noon, when I just happened to be in the kitchen. Looking out, my first thought was goldfinches. But they seemed a little larger, and then I noticed the streaking. So even before I reached my binoculars on the other side of the room, I knew this was a special moment. I enjoyed a nice long look at these uncommon yard visitors, fully appreciating my good fortune. They stayed for about 15 minutes and I didn't see them the rest of the day.

Now it's the first day of 2008, and a new annual yard list begins. The first entry: White-Breasted Nuthatch, heard and then seen while I was outside shoveling snow. Not a bad First Bird. Certainly better than starting the year with a House Sparrow. My third bird of 2008, following a Downy Woodpecker, was a Hermit Thrush—undoubtedly the same bird that for several weeks now has been visiting our heated bird bath. He flies in, takes a few sips and then flies away. I'm hoping the bird stays around all winter.

According to Sibley, southern Illinois is about as far north as you could expect to see a Hermit Thrush this time of year. So “my” bird is a bit out of range, and it's the first Hermit Thrush to visit my yard in the dead of winter. Clearly the fresh water source is what's keeping him here.

Maintaining a bird bath in winter takes a little effort, but times like these really make it worthwhile. Plus, all the backyard birds will use it. They need water, and a heated bird bath can be every bit as attractive to wild birds in winter as a well-stocked feeder.

Copyright 2008 by Jeff Reiter. All Rights Reserved.

2007-11-30T11:31:00.001-06:00

Hoping for a year-end bonus
(posted 12-1-07)

No matter what happens this month, 2007 has been my best year ever in the backyard. I’ve spotted 86 species so far—seven more than my previous best in 2005. This is the fifth straight year that I've kept an annual yard list.

My latest success happened a few weeks ago when I heard a pair of Great Horned Owls calling. This was around 2:00 a.m. It was a mild November night, so I had the window open a crack—I might not have heard the birds otherwise because they were some distance away. Listening to owls at night is always a thrill, but since Great Horned Owl had been missing from my 2007 yard list I was especially pleased to hear these ones.

Another success—and a more surprising one—was the Carolina Wren that turned up on November 9. In the 10 years that we’ve lived in our current home, it was only the fourth time I’d recorded this species in the yard.

I’ve been keeping a close eye on my tube thistle feeder for two other species that I’d love to see before we turn the calendar. The first is Pine Siskin. It’s been four years this month since my yard last hosted a siskin but I’ve noticed (through online reports) that many birders have reported siskins at their feeders in recent weeks. An encouraging sign!

Pine Siskins are special to me because it’s the only “lifer” that I’ve ever registered in the yard. That happened in January 1998, just a few months after we moved to Glen Ellyn. My notes say that siskins were common in the yard that winter. They’ve certainly not been common since.

Another bird on my wish list is Common Redpoll. My hopes are higher than usual because it appears that this winter might be a good one for this species—redpolls were reported with some regularity around the Chicago region during November. I’ve never had a redpoll in the yard, and, in fact, I’ve had only one encounter with this species. That was at Fermilab in 1999 and the sighting lasted all of about five seconds. Trust me, I’d give a lot to wake up one morning and see a redpoll on my thistle feeder just 15 feet from the kitchen window!

Either a siskin or a redpoll would truly be a year-end bonus. But if neither bird appears, that’ll be okay. Yard-wise, it has already been an extraordinary year.

Two species were new in 2007: A Field Sparrow in April and a flyover Peregrine Falcon in May. My all-time yard list now totals 104.

One of the most satisfying aspects of 2007 was the appearance of several birds that I’d only seen once before in (or from) the yard. Birds like Yellow-Billed Cuckoo, Common Yellowthroat, Green Heron and American Kestrel. Other highlights:
• I heard an Eastern Screech Owl on four different occasions—three of them in March. Before ’07, I’d only heard a “screechie” in the yard three times in nine years.
• A Cooper’s Hawk paid a surprise visit to our heated birdbath in January. It was the closest prolonged look I’ve ever had of this species.
• In August, I witnessed a Northern Cardinal feeding a juvenile Brown-Headed Cowbird. The “baby” was almost as large as the redbird! This was my first time witnessing the brood parasitism that cowbirds are known for.
• Another “first” was nesting House Wrens. I’d been trying to attract wrens for years and a new wooden nest box seemed to make all the difference. It was my best bird-related purchase of 2007.
• Another good acquisition was a second hummingbird feeder—a cheapie from Wal-Mart that I placed about 20 feet away from my trusty HummZinger model. This really increased the activity level in September, which has always been the best month for hummers in my yard.

So it really was an exciting year out back, and I’d be crazy to expect any better in 2008. My goal, instead, is to see a few new species and, along the way, hone my observation skills by watching for bird behaviors that perhaps I’ve been overlooking. I also want to get better at identifying birds by sound.

But enough about 2008. I still have 31 days to put a little avian icing on the cake that was 2007. Siskins and redpolls, your breakfast is waiting.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All Rights Reserved.

2007-10-29T16:15:00.000-05:00

A 288-page gem
(posted 10-29-07)

There’s a new book I'm reading that you may have heard of: “Good Birders Don’t Wear White—50 Tips from North America’s Top Birders.” If you haven’t yet picked up a copy, buy one or borrow one soon. I think you’ll be glad you did.

“Good Birders” has much to offer—excellent short essays about the hobby we love, many of them contributed by “superstars” like Pete Dunne, Kenn Kaufman, David Sibley, Scott Weidensaul and Julie Zickefoose. In other words, folks who know their stuff and can really write. I’m not finished with it yet, but I can already vouch for this book as a solid collection of practical advice. Plus it’s just fun to read.

Not all of the contributors are household names. One of my favorite chapters so far is “Birder or Bird Watcher? You Decide,” by Scott Shalaway. He discusses how family obligations have forced him to scale back from his days as an obsessed bird-chasing lister and spend more time watching the backyard. Boy, can I relate to that! But Shalaway also shows why labels like “birder” and “bird watcher” don’t really matter. We can be both. What matters is that we appreciate the birds that are before us, wherever we are. Other chapters in “Good Birders” suggest ways to do just that.

The book has a nice sense of humor, too. “Follow These Rules to See a Mangrove Cuckoo,” by Don and Lillian Stokes, does a great job capturing some of the quirky truisms of birding. You know, things like how the best bird of a field trip is usually spotted in the parking lot. The chapter is a good reminder not to take ourselves too seriously and that luck, not skill, often determines the outcome of our bird quests.

“Good Birders” is a book to savor. I’m taking it slow, reading just two or three chapters at a time—I retain more that way. But it’s a hard book to put down. See for yourself, and go ahead and wear white when you do.

More book notes: Weidensaul was the DuPage Birding Club’s guest speaker in July. I’m a big fan, and if you heard him speak or have read his books and magazine articles you can understand why. His latest work, “Of a Feather: A Brief History of American Birding,” is on my bedside table. I never thought much about our hobby’s past until last year when I read “A World of Watchers,” by Joseph Kastner. It was a lot more interesting than I expected it to be. Birding really has a fascinating history, including many colorful personalities. I’m eager to see how Weidensaul handles the topic.

The new Roger Tory Peterson biography by Douglas Carlson also is on my “must read” list. It’s the first book about RTP since his death in 1996. Which reminds me, are they ever going to rename one of our warblers in his honor? Hope so.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All Rights Reserved.

2007-09-25T14:31:00.001-05:00

My best yard year ever
(posted 9-25-07)

We moved into our present home exactly 10 years ago this month. At the time, I never imagined that I’d come to enjoy “yard birding” so much.

This month will go down as the best one I’ve ever had for hummingbirds. For the first time, I placed two feeders in my backyard, about 25 feet apart. Maybe that’s been the difference. Then again, reports indicate that hummingbird numbers are up throughout the region.

Amidst the hummers, last weekend’s excitement was a Yellow-Throated Vireo. It was my 80th yard species of 2007--one better than my previous best year.

It has indeed been an exceptional year, and it’s far from over. I’ll be looking for Hermit Thrush, Brown Creeper, Purple Finch, Fox Sparrow and Pine Siskin in the coming weeks. With a little luck and a lot of observation time, my year list could grow to 85 species or more.

Soon it will be time to choose a “Yard Bird of the Year.” It will almost certainly be the Peregrine Falcon that coursed over on May 27th. Needless to say, it was a first--and probably a bird I will never see again from the yard. The only other new visitor in 2007 (so far) was a Field Sparrow. My all-time yard list now stands at 104 species.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All Rights Reserved.

2007-08-19T07:09:00.000-05:00

A kestrel on high
(posted 8-24-07)

True confession: I get excited about pigeons. No, not the ones I see every weekday in Chicago, or the ones pecking around the Jewel parking lot here in Glen Ellyn. The rock pigeons that get my attention are of the backyard variety.

Adding a pigeon to my annual yard list is no slam dunk. Not once have I seen one on the ground under my feeders, and “flybys” are surprisingly rare. Luck was on my side a few weeks ago when a small flock went over at the same time I was out on my driveway watching some broad-winged hawks. Great timing! I really appreciated those pigeons (and the hawks too) because I'm trying to see 80 species in the yard this year for the first time. I'm now at 76.

But my point is that common birds can take on new meaning in a backyard context. A ho-hum bird “in the field” can be a very coveted bird in the yard.

Maybe you recall my story about spotting a Common Yellowthroat for my 100th yard bird overall. I'd waited years to see that bird in my yard, even though it’s an easy-to-find species in nearby fields and marshes. My milestone sighting was in 2006, and I haven't looked at yellowthroats the same since.

Sometimes seeing a rare yard visitor for the second time is better than the first. On July 28 I was walking down my driveway to retrieve the morning newspaper when I noticed a familiar shape at the very top of a tall pine one yard over. It seemed too robust for a mourning dove, and doves usually perch on wires. Could it be? I ran inside to get my binoculars, and fortunately the bird stayed put. Sure enough, an American Kestrel! In nearly 10 years of backyard birdwatching at my present home, I'd seen a kestrel only once before—a flyby in 2003 that left me wishing for a longer look.

This kestrel was a lot more cooperative, allowing me to watch for about five minutes. The handsome little falcon pumped its tail contantly—something I’d never noticed before. Turns out, according to Sibley, that’s a typical kestrel behavior trait. It was a good reminder to pay better attention to the little details that add so much to the joy of birdwatching.

The backyard kestrel hasn’t returned, and I don't expect it to. But now, every time I go down my driveway, I can't help glancing over at my neighbor's pine. At the top. Just in case.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All Rights Reserved.

2007-07-29T05:54:00.000-05:00

For my birthday, a Bell's Vireo would be nice
(posted 7-31-07)

I'd decided about a week in advance that if the weather was nice, and if conditions were right at work, I'd take my birthday off. It would be a Friday, so all the better.

Yes, I was pretty sure that July 20 would be a day of hooky. But how would I spend it? It was fun thinking about the possibilities. More precisely, would it be birding or baseball? I would choose just one, since I wanted to spend at least part of the day with our six-year-old son Jay. (Rachel, age 11, was away at camp in Wisconsin.)

On five occasions during my 48 years I have attended a Major League Baseball game on my birthday. It's something I like to do, and having a July birthday and being near a large city with two big-league teams presents at least one possibility annually. Although my attendance has fallen off in recent years I'm still a big fan of the game—especially when the Cleveland Indians are playing.

I like the Cubs, too, and they had an afternoon date with the Diamondbacks on July 20. Wrigley Field would be sold out, but finding a single seat—maybe even a really good seat—would not be a problem.

Well, this blog isn’t called Words on Baseball, so you know the choice I made. The clincher? I had a good chance of seeing a new bird.

Lately I've been working a little harder to find some of the birds that have always eluded me. I'm talking about species that can be found in the Chicago region at certain times of the year if you have good information and also good luck. My efforts since last fall have added Snow Bunting, Harlequin Duck and Acadian Flycatcher to my life list.

Until this summer, I’d never single-mindedly pursued a Bell’s Vireo. It wasn't until June that I finally got serious about finding one. That month, despite excellent scouting reports from fellow birders, I struck out in three attempts at Greene Valley Forest Preserve in Woodridge. It was time to try a new venue.

In DuPage County, one of the most reliable places for Bell's Vireo has always been Fermilab in Batavia, where a few pairs nest each year. Just a week before my birthday, a Bell's was located by group of birders that included noted author and naturalist Scott Weidensaul. They found it along the so-called sparrow hedge, the usual spot at Fermi.

I haven't done a lot of birding at Fermi, and one reason, especially in recent years, is access. Security was tightened up considerably after the Sept. 11 tragedy. Birders are still welcome on the grounds, at least on most days, but it’s frustrating not being able to enter before 8:00 a.m. That's sleeping in for most of us birders.

I thought about stopping at another birding hotspot before Fermi, just to kill time, but then reconsidered. Better to be well fortified for my primary mission, so I headed for the IHOP in Wheaton instead. Going out to breakfast and reading the newspaper (especially during baseball season) is a rare but satisfying indulgence. My birthday was starting off in fine fashion.

I arrived at Fermi’s east entrance gate around 7:35, hoping the guard might let me slip in early. Nope, sorry sir, you'll have to wait. So I pulled over into the small parking lot and watched a steady stream of cars pass through the checkpoint. Fermi has more employees than I ever knew, and apparently most of them begin their shifts at 8:00.

When it was finally time to begin mine, I drove in and parked at the red barn. The sparrow hedge is less than a mile from this point, and on my way down the trail I encountered many catbirds and goldfinches. Not knowing this part of Fermi very well, I was just sort of feeling my way along. I knew I was heading in the right direction, but the "hedge" is not a clearly defined feature. Like the famed Magic Hedge at Montrose Beach in Chicago, it's not really a hedge at all. But whatever it is, the birds certainly like it.

The strategy for Bell’s, as with many other secretive species, is to locate the bird by listening, then hope for a quick glimpse. This species prefers scrubby underbrush and is far more often heard than seen.

I’d been listening to a Bell's Vireo for the previous month via the Bird Guide section of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology website, www.birds.cornell.edu/AllAboutBirds. It’s a great resource, especially when I need to hear a species that's not included on my Peterson Birding by Ear CDs.

The Bell’s song is raspy and scolding. It seems to me that a bird with such a musical name should have a more pleasing voice. But alas, Bell’s Vireo is named for a person, not something found in a church. John Graham Bell was a taxidermist who accompanied John James Audubon on a Missouri River trip in 1843.

In my first half hour at Fermi, the most interesting sighting was an ovenbird—quite an unexpected species since I wasn't in a forest. A Baltimore oriole and several blue-gray gnatcatchers were flitting about, too. Nice birds, but I was getting a little anxious. When and where would I hear the Bell’s? Was I again destined to miss this bird?

No, I was not. Setting down a new path, still along the sparrow hedge, I heard the noise I’d been training for—distinctive, unmistakable. As I walked it became louder. The Bell's was close, and for a few seconds it even popped into view. It was a drab little bird, but seeing it was important to me. It was a “lifer” after all. And besides, when searching for a bird like Bell’s Vireo that's notoriously difficult to observe, doesn’t the observer become a little more determined? I felt fortunate to get several short looks in good light, with the sun at my back.

Walking back to my car, I remember thinking what a good choice I’d made—to go birding, alone, instead of to a baseball game with 42,000 others. It was not even 10 o’clock and already I’d had a great day. Any birder would understand.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All Rights Reserved.

2007-06-25T20:25:00.000-05:00

Greene Valley Acadian
(posted 6-25-07)

Greene Valley Forest Preserve in Woodridge is only 10 miles south of my home. So why had I only been there once or twice before? Well, until this past week, I guess I didn't know what I was missing.

Multiple reports of a very accessible Acadian flycatcher was my catalyst. The bird was first reported on June 6 by Mike Madsen, a veteran birder who knows every inch of Greene Valley--he's been monitoring birds there for years. Mike heard and then sighted the flycatcher in an open scrubby area, which is not typical habitat for an Acadian. It was the first time he had ever seen this species at Greene Valley. Since I had never seen an Acadian flycatcher in my LIFE, I paid close attention to his reports on IBET, the birding list-serve.

And the postings kept coming. Not only was the bird out of place, it was hanging around! On June 20 I decided to go for it. It was a beautiful cool morning--a great day to be out after about a week of hot and sticky conditions. The night before and in the car on the way, I played the empidonax flycatcher track from my Birding by Ear CD series. I played the Acadian segment over and over, trying to burn that sound into my head.

The homework paid off. Once at Greene Valley I located the bird fairly easily--it was right where Mike described it. Naturally I heard the flycatcher first. But within a few minutes I was watching it sing from fairly close range. As birders know, it's very satisfying to find a sought-after "life bird" and be able to observe it at length and in good light. Even better when the bird is vocalizing.

The Acadian made my day, but there was more to be enjoyed. I proceeded along the crushed limestone paths of Greene Valley and found Baltimore and orchard orioles, yellow warbler, common yellowthroat, Eastern towhee and indigo bunting--all nice birds to watch and listen to. Catbirds and red-winged blackbirds were especially plentiful.

Around 7:00 a.m. I reluctantly got back in my car and headed home--it was Wednesday and I had to get to work! After a quick change and a commute on Metra, I was in my Chicago office before 9.

Three days later I found myself back at Greene Valley, this time in a light rain. Like the previous visit, I had a target bird: Bell's vireo. If successful, it would be my second lifer of the week.

Well, sometimes the birding gods get even. They decided to make me really work for the Bell's. And I'm still working. I didn't find one that day in the drizzle, or the next day either. Nice consolations were a white-eyed vireo and a yellow-billed cuckoo. I'll take those birds any day. But my lifer Bell's will have to wait.

Maybe this Saturday my luck with turn. Bell's vireos are confirmed at Greene Valley--my birding colleagues have been finding them with relative ease in recent weeks. They've told me where to look and I know what to listen for. It's a matter of persistence and timing.

So I'll keep trying in the days to come, and I'll keep enjoying Greene Valley. It has more to offer than I ever realized.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All Rights Reserved.

2007-06-05T21:18:00.001-05:00

A fabulous falcon and other yard highlights
(posted 6-5-07)

Several few years ago I won some kudos for spotting a peregrine falcon during the spring bird count. I was with two other birders covering the Morton Arboretum when I saw the bird high overhead and called out. It was a rather improbable sighting, but my colleagues--more experienced than me--confirmed the ID. I enjoyed that moment, and I recalled it on May 27 when I saw only my second lifetime peregrine falcon in DuPage County--this time from my back patio!

The peregrine was a new "yard bird" for me, species No. 104, and obviously one of the highlights of my spring birding. During May, the peak of migration season, I was out on the patio almost every morning just before 6 a.m., listening and looking. Even on work days I squeezed in an hour of birding before heading for the train. So a lot of early wake-ups, but it was worth it.

The same day I saw the falcon, I also spotted a yellow-billed cuckoo. I'd only had a cuckoo in the yard once before, in May 2005, so it was quite a surprise. Another bird I'd only had once before was Eastern kingbird, a fairly easy bird to find if you know where to look. But until May 4--and then again on May 27!--I hadn't seen a kingbird in my yard since 2002. It was good to end a five-year drought.

Another sweet May moment was finding a rose-breasted grosbeak on my sunflower seed tube feeder one morning when I first went outside. Fortunately he startled me more that I startled him so he stayed for a few minutes. It would be my only grosbeak of the spring.

In the warbler department it was a so-so May in my yard. I logged a dozen varieties, among them Blackburnian, chestnut-sided, blackpoll, black and white, Wilson's and bay-breasted. Vireos? Just two: red-eyed (of course) and blue-headed (alright!).

This spring I really got to know the beautiful song of the Swainson's thrush. I'm not sure if it was one bird or several different ones, but Swainson's was "uncommonly common" in my yard during the second half of May. Most mornings I never saw one but boy did I hear it.

Brown thrasher is a bird I can never count on. Before last month I'd only had two yard sightings, once in late April and once in very early May. It was therefore kind of shocking to have one stop by on May 28--a true "bonus bird." He was perched fairly high in a neighbor's tree and making all the weird sounds you'd expect from a thrasher.

One species I expected to see (or at least hear) was gray catbird, one of my favorite backyard birds. No luck. But if birding is anything it's unpredictable.

For 2007, my yard list now sits at 74 species. This is my fifth straight year of keeping a "year list" for the yard, and so far my highest total is 79 species, in 2005. With a little luck--and a lot more hours on my patio this fall--a new personal best is within reach. A flyover bald eagle for No. 80 would be nice. But a catbird would be fine, too.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2007-05-21T21:04:00.001-05:00

Cleaning up the yard (list)
(posted 5-21-07)

Things were really popping in my backyard this morning. Judging by the volume and diversity of the "dawn chorus," the neighborhood was loaded with birds. The highlight was a singing scarlet tanager, a fiery male. That's what I like to call a "wow bird"--the kind that could turn almost anybody into a birder.

Flycatchers were flitting around, too. I generally know a member of the empidonax flycatcher family when I see one, but I've never had much confidence in telling them apart. Knowing their songs is the only sure-proof way to make a positive ID.

After a few minutes outside I heard an incessant two-note call that I guessed had to be a least flycatcher. I then went back inside to check the ID using my Peterson "Birding by Ear" CDs. I played the flycatcher track--the segment that I've surely played more than any other over the years--and easily confirmed that the bird I'd been watching and listening to was indeed a least flycatcher.

I tell this story because my official yard list, until now, had one aggravating flaw. One of the species I'd listed wasn't a species at all, it was a family. Not trusting my identification skills, I'd simply written down "empidonax flycatcher species." No shame in that--it's the proper and conservative thing to put down when you're not sure--but it was a lot less precise than I preferred.

So, today my yard list became a little cleaner when I added a "no doubt" least flycatcher. My list didn't grow--I'm still sitting at 103 species--but now every entry is an actual bird.

In the days ahead I'll be listening for Acadian and alder flycatchers, either of which would be a life bird for me. Having listened to the CD this morning and again tonight, I think I might be able to ID one of these other empids if one happens by and vocalizes. Or maybe not. But it's a test I'm looking forward to, whether it happens in the yard or in the field.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2007-04-27T15:30:00.000-05:00

A nice Monday night surprise
(posted 4-27-07)

My birding this month was mostly limited to the backyard. But that's OK, I like it there. The highlight came earlier this week when I spotted a field sparrow under one of our lilac bushes. It was a first-time sighting in the yard, species No. 103.

The field sparrow was congregating with several white-throated sparrows and a song sparrow. All of them were nibbling on the millet that I had put down the previous two days. But this was Monday night, so there couldn't have been many seeds left. Perhaps I'll start spreading the millet on a daily basis, just to keep the action going throughout the week.

Even if you work away from home all day, nice surprises can be waiting when you return -- especially this time of year. That was certainly the case for me on Monday. What a great way to start the week!

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All Rights Reserved.

2007-03-15T13:13:00.001-05:00

Uncommon visitors made this a winter to remember
(Published 3-22-07)

Retirement and birding, they go together. This winter I was again envious of my older birder friends who have the freedom to pursue this hobby with abandon. When a rare bird is reported in the area, they can drop everything and go see it.

Being tied to a nine-to-five, my schedule isn’t that flexible. But at least I can follow their adventures vicariously via the Internet. Hey, just because I’m office-bound doesn’t mean I can’t be informed!

Some of the sightings reported on the birding list-serve this winter were quite remarkable, reinforcing what I’ve said before: We live in great place for year-round birding. In January and February, many coveted species made local appearances, rewarding those who had the time (and cold-weather gear) to go after them.

Fortunately, not all the birds escaped me. When a pair of harlequin ducks was reported near North Avenue beach in Chicago in mid-January, I jumped at the chance to go see them. How could I not? I’d never seen a “harlie” before, and these birds were too close to pass up.

The six-dollar cab ride to North Avenue from my office was money well spent. It didn’t take long to find the ducks, which were conveniently swimming close to shore. The male harlequin is simply a spectacular bird, possibly North America’s most beautiful duck. Harlies are rare visitors to the Great Lakes, let alone downtown Chicago. They breed in northern Canada and winter primarily along rocky East Coast shorelines.

How I wish all the birds this winter had been so accessible! There were many I’d have loved to “chase.” Tops among them would be the purple sandpiper that turned up at Waukegan Beach and stayed for a tantalizing 10 days. The red-throated loons and black scoters seen at Illinois Beach State Park in Zion tempted me as well. Other nice finds by local birders included a red-shouldered hawk at Waterfall Glen Forest Preserve in Darien; rough-legged hawks and a bald eagle at Springbrook Prairie in Naperville; and a saw-whet owl at Morton Arboretum in Lisle. Northern shrikes—a true winter specialty—were seen in multiple DuPage County locations.

Two other exciting discoveries this winter took place early last month in Lombard. The one attracting the most attention—fueled by a prominent story and photo in the Daily Herald—was a snowy owl. The large white raptor was spotted on top of an apartment building across from Yorktown Center. A few snowy owl sightings occur each winter in this region, but they usually take place along the Chicago lakefront or in wide-open rural spaces—habitats similar to the species’ arctic tundra homeland. I’ve never seen a snowy in DuPage County, and unfortunately I wasn’t fast enough to see the one in Lombard.

Proving that “good birds” sometimes come in pairs, a northern mockingbird was found in Lombard on the same day as the owl. Mockingbirds are uncommon this far north, even in the spring and summer. Other songbird surprises this winter included an orange-crowned warbler found outside the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago, and a male Baltimore oriole at a backyard feeder in McHenry County. Hopefully these out-of-place birds survived the bitter cold.

Periodically I like to share the sign-on information for the Internet list-serve I mentioned earlier. It’s a great tool for all birders, retired or not. Besides alerting you to local rarities, the postings help you learn what birds to expect throughout the year and the best places see them. To get started, send a blank e-mail to ILbirds-subscribe@yahoogroups.com, wait for the response, then follow the instructions. The service is free.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2007-02-15T07:27:00.000-06:00

Avian outcasts: Non-native species unloved
(published 2-15-07)

It’s fitting that the monk parakeet is green. It is, after all, an alien bird.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Or maybe that depends on who you ask. Non-native or “introduced” species like the monk parakeet, European starling, rock pigeon and house sparrow are despised by a lot of birders. They’re regarded as illegal immigrants, or worse. I’ve heard pigeons called rats with wings. Sky carp. Falcon food.

But whatever your opinion of them, non-native birds are here to stay. We might as well accept them and—dare I say it?—enjoy them. I confess that last spring I caught myself admiring a starling. The bird was on the ground, warming itself in the sun on a chilly morning. From my angle, the rainbow effect on its iridescent plumage was striking.

Monk parakeets are showy in a different way, and most of us are still getting to know them. This South American species gained a Chicago foothold in the 1970s, probably when a few pet birds were released into the wild. Their local population has been growing ever since.

Think of the monk as a parrot, not a parakeet. It’s a sizeable, conspicuous bird. Author Pete Dunne likens it to a bright green American kestrel, but with a longer, pointier tail. Monk parakeets live in noisy colonies characterized by enormous stick nests, often constructed on power line towers. The nest clusters—a headache for ComEd—are so dense (and the birds so hardy) that monk parakeets survive here year-round.

Like many area birders, I saw my first monk parakeet in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago, home of the region’s original colony. The birds are easily found just south of the Science and Industry Museum—look for their nests on the light poles at the golf course driving range.

Last year, following a tip, I set out to see my first monk parakeets in DuPage County. I found them at Cricket Creek Forest Preserve in Addison. The best vantage point was actually from outside the preserve, from the southbound on-ramp to Route 83 off Lake Street. Their massive nest on the utility tower is impossible to miss.

Monk parakeets will visit backyard feeding stations, but be careful what you wish for. The birds travel in groups and have voracious appetites. They can empty a feeder faster than a flock of grackles, and watch your ornamental fruit trees too! They’d be welcome in my yard, though, just for the color and excitement.

Another expanding non-native species to look for is the Eurasian collared-dove. This bird looks just like a mourning dove but has a thin black band or “collar” behind its head. I see these birds every time I visit South Florida but their distribution is now well beyond the Southeast and moving north. They are commonly sighted in Illinois counties south of here, so I’ve started looking at the mourning doves in my yard a lot more carefully.

Maybe I’m thinking about non-native species a bit more these days because of a newly published book that I received for Christmas: “Pigeons: The Fascinating Saga of the World’s Most Revered and Reviled Bird.” I’m looking forward to it. Really.

Learning more about the common birds around us, including the non-natives, is a worthy goal. Be curious and keep an open mind. It’ll help you enjoy the hobby even more.

Jeff Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2007. All Rights Reserved.

2007-01-04T08:53:00.001-06:00

Got ground? Try this simple and effective feeding strategy
(published 1-18-07)

The foundation of my backyard feeding program is a small Droll Yankees tube feeder filled with black-oil sunflower seeds. It is joined by two other tube-style feeders—one for shelled peanuts and one for thistle. These stations attract a nice variety of birds in all seasons. In May I’ll put out the hummingbird feeder, too.

But let’s remember that a lot of birds prefer to do their eating on the ground. Toss down a few handfuls of seed and you might be surprised by how quickly the activity level picks up. Sparrows, juncos, mourning doves and even cardinals are highly terrestrial when it comes to feeding.

In the winter, I put small amounts of millet and cracked corn on our bluestone patio. This brings the birds up close, right outside our kitchen’s sliding doors. The action can be especially good right after it snows, when foraging on bare ground is no longer possible. On those days I clear off an area of the patio, creating a “landing pad” that works like a bird magnet.

On Dec. 2, the day after that big snow messed up everybody’s Friday, a fox sparrow made a surprise appearance on the bluestone. “Foxies” are not common in my yard, and I’d never had one visit so late in the year. Even more exciting was the American tree sparrow that turned up about a week later—a new species, No. 102, for my yard list. The bird was congregating with a group of house sparrows and, based on coloration alone, could have been overlooked. So, if you try ground feeding, be alert for unusual visitors—attracting them is the whole point!

Ground feeding does have some drawbacks. The major one is that it brings joy to the lives of house sparrows and squirrels. That’s hard for most birders to accept, and I once had a problem with it myself. My outlook changed, however, when “good” birds began taking advantage of my generosity. I now believe that whatever waste might come with ground feeding is well worth it.

Still, be sure to avoid putting out too much food. I try to spread just enough seed to last a half day, so that it’s all gone by nightfall. Fresh, dry seed is important for the health of the birds, and excess food could attract any number of nocturnal four-legged creatures. Typically, I only do ground feeding on weekends, when I’m home to enjoy the results.

The choice of millet and cracked corn is strategic, too. These foods please a variety of birds—cardinals especially like the corn—and they are inexpensive. My usual source is the Wild Bird Center in Wheaton, where millet sells for $.59/lb and cracked corn is only $.39/lb. You get an even better deal if you buy the 25-lb bags.

In closing, I’d like to confess that my inspiration for ground feeding came from an ace birder in Wheaton who is less than half my age. For years he’s been attracting ground-loving seed eaters to his yard by sprinkling millet under trees and shrubs. The tactic has delivered brown thrashers, Eastern towhees and white-crowned sparrows among other desirable species. Consider giving ground feeding a try now and continue the practice this spring when the range of potential “customers” increases.

Copyright 2007 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2006-12-14T16:30:00.001-06:00

Some lists keep growing, and others come to an end
(published 12-28-06)

Seeing a bird for the first time is a great feeling, so I can understand why it leads some birders to do the “life bird dance.” I’ve never actually seen this performed, but I picture it looking something like a sandhill crane’s courtship ritual—interesting, but not terribly graceful.

My own ritual following a first-time sighting is to make a hand-written entry in the birdwatcher’s logbook I’ve been using for about a dozen years. I keep a master list on my computer hard drive too, as a back up, but that’s just a bunch of bird names without any details. The log contains all the meaningful stuff, and it would be one of the first things I’d reach for if my house was burning down.

I didn’t travel much in 2006, so my life list was stuck on 450 species all year. That is, until October 29. That day I drove to the Chicago lakefront in search of my first snow bunting, a bird I’d been pursuing for years. I knew from Internet postings that my chances were pretty good. Migrating snow buntings were reported on Montrose beach for several days leading up to my visit.

Within two hours of arrival I had the bird. Several small flocks of snow buntings were swirling around that morning, and fortunately I spotted a solitary bird foraging on the ground, affording me a nice long look in perfect light. It wasn’t easy, but I resisted the temptation to dance.

I made slightly better progress with my yard list in 2006, adding two new species. The first of those, a common yellowthroat, was No. 100. Of all the lists you can keep, I think the yard list is the most personal and possibly the most rewarding. It’s your property after all, so feeding, habitat creation and identifications depend on your efforts alone. For me, seeing an uncommon bird in the yard is more satisfying than seeing that same bird in the field.

I’m not a chronic lister (I swear!), but I do have a few other favorite lists. One is for Florida, where my parents live most of the year. I try to add a few species whenever I’m there. The list benefited substantially from a birding festival I attended in Tampa a few years back, a trip to Dry Tortugas National Park and multiple visits to the Everglades.

Sadly, some lists come to an end. It happened this year when my in-laws sold their home at Kiawah Island, S.C. We had the good fortune to visit there for many years, and during those times I saw some amazing birds, many of them “lifers.” Painted buntings love it at Kiawah, and I loved watching them. I’ll keep my Kiawah list on file in case we ever go back, but for now it’s officially retired.

I blame Donald Trump for another favorite list that ceased to be. Sapsucker Court was the unofficial name for a little downtown Chicago plaza between the Wrigley Building and former Sun-Times Building. I walked through it every morning on my way to work and kept close track of the birds, growing my list to 66 species. Now the courtyard is gone, blown up to make way for The Donald’s massive condo tower now under construction. Too bad—not for me, for the birds. I’m hopeful that some decent green space will be restored once the project is complete.

You can enjoy birding without keeping lists, just like you can enjoy golf without keeping score. In my opinion, though, the ritual of list-keeping is part of the fun. Dancing is optional.

Copyright 2006 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2006-11-01T11:24:00.001-06:00

Right place, right time: When good luck prevails
(published 11-1-06)

Luck and chance play a big role in bird watching. It’s part of the fun, and everyone seems to have a story about the time a really great bird made a surprise appearance.

I’ve shared a few “luck stories” myself in this space, most recently about an improbable yard visit by a pair of green herons. For this column, however, I invited a few of my DuPage Birding Club colleagues to relate some of their luckier moments in the field. The hardest thing, they told me, was choosing just one.

Jeff Chapman, from Woodridge, recalled a cold November day when he was birding with his wife at Morton Arboretum. They were looking for crossbills in the hemlock area when Melinda’s back stiffened up.

“To stretch it out, she would get in a catcher’s stance while I held her hands so she could lean back,” says Chapman. “As I was holding her hands I looked up into a white pine and saw a Northern saw-whet owl staring back at me. He was not more than a few feet above our heads!”

It was only the second saw-whet Chapman had ever seen. The tiny species is a rare visitor here and quite difficult to find. This owl was in the open, but would he have noticed it if he hadn’t been helping his wife? Maybe, maybe not. He thinks luck had a lot to do with it.

Susan Kaley from Naperville described the time she was biking on the Prairie Path and, on a whim, decided to take a different route than usual. Near Timber Ridge Forest Preserve she heard an unusual bird sound. So she jumped off her bike, pulled out her binoculars, and was soon looking at a prairie warbler—a truly rare bird in DuPage County and a new entry on Kaley's life list.

“It was exciting,” she says, “and you can imagine my relief when other people went out and reported seeing the bird, too.”

This last story is my favorite. Kate Frazier, from Batavia, was birding in Rocky Mountain National Park with her husband Jim and some friends. Their “target bird” one morning was the three-toed woodpecker. They went to a spot where the species had been seen before and waited. And waited. Finally, they decided to move on and try another place. But Frazier stayed back to take care of some personal business—nature was calling. And then, as she was doing her thing in the underbrush, a male three-toed woodpecker landed on a tree beside her!

“Imagine my dilemma,” she recalls. “If I finish what I’ve begun, the bird may fly away and no one will believe I saw it. But if I yell loud enough, three people are going to turn around and see a sight they don’t want to see.”

Luckily, the woodpecker was cooperative. After Frazier reassembled herself she caught up to the group and led them to the bird, a “lifer” for all.

For sure, some birders are luckier than others. They’re the ones who are always prepared, always ready for something unusual. I know people who have seen golden eagles pass over DuPage County—this fall, in fact. That’s lucky by any measure, but they knew what to watch for.

And take my friend Susan. She’d never seen a prairie warbler before but she’d heard a recording of one, so she hit the brakes.

Me? Well, when those green herons appeared last June I had a garden hose in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. But my eyes and ears were open, and binoculars were around my neck.

Copyright 2006 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2006-10-10T09:22:00.000-05:00

Backyard wrens: three kinds to watch and listen for
(published 10-4-06)

If I could choose one bird that I’d like to hear every morning for the rest of my life, it might well be the house wren. Its loud, exuberant song is hard not to love. The sound permeates our neighborhoods in the spring like no other.

Wrens are fun to watch, too. They’re always moving, always busy. I admire their industry.

I have only one birdhouse in my yard, a terra cotta model that I placed about four years ago with hopes of attracting a wren family. I’m still waiting, but this summer I had a close call. Just one day after moving the house to a new location, I noticed a wren checking it out. He perched momentarily on the roof and then went inside.

A day or two later, I noticed a single twig poking out of the house’s entrance hole. Yes! Nest building has begun! But then a funny thing happened: nothing. All activity suddenly stopped.

At times like these, it’s great to have a good birding library. I began reading up on house wrens and learned a lot about these common backyard birds with the big voice. Turns out I had witnessed some typical wren behavior. The males are known to choose several potential nest sites, “claiming” them with a few sticks and other debris. And yup, one stick out the hole is a classic marker.

Once his territory is in order, the male wren shows a female his handiwork. If one of the home sites meets her approval, she takes over and completes the nest.

Apparently my terra cotta casa didn’t pass muster. So I’ll clean it out and hope for better results in 2007. Meanwhile, the house will stay out all winter as a potential roosting place for chickadees.

House wrens head south this time of year, to the southern U.S. and beyond. October and November, however, are good months for spotting another kind of wren.

The winter wren is an uncommon treat. If you see one it will probably be on the ground, scurrying mouse-like through your garden or shrubs. These birds are smaller, rounder and darker than house wrens, and their stubby tails point straight up. Some say it has the sweetest song of all the wrens. I don’t dispute that, based on recordings I’ve heard, but I long to hear one in real life.

Winter wrens are seen here only during late fall and early spring, as they migrate to and from their breeding grounds in the North Woods and Canada.

Only one member of the wren family occurs in this region throughout the year, the non-migratory Carolina wren. This is the northern edge of its range, however, so the species is relatively scarce in these parts.

My yard has hosted a Carolina wren on just two occasions, and in each case I heard the bird before I saw it. Like the house wren, it announces its presence with gusto. And keep in mind that could happen at any time—the Carolina wren is known for singing during all four seasons.

To complete the picture, marsh wrens and sedge wrens also nest here. But as their names suggest, these species are closely associated with specific habitats. Neither one is likely to visit a typical suburban backyard.

For more information about wrens, and to hear their remarkable songs, go to www.birds.cornell.edu/allaboutbirds/birdguide.

Jeff Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

2006-09-14T08:37:00.001-05:00

Nelson Lake Marsh: Kane County birding at its best
(published 9-14-06)

There are times when Kane County might as well be Iowa for me. I just don’t get out there very often. But this much I know: For birding, Kane County is always worth the drive.

If you could go to only one place in Kane, make it Dick Young Forest Preserve near Batavia. Best known as Nelson Lake Marsh, it is the largest (1,000 acres) and most naturally diverse preserve in the county.

Jon Duerr, a St. Charles resident, has been watching birds at Nelson Lake since the late 1950s. It was private property then, used for peat mining because the land was too soft and wet for farming. Through the years, Duerr has seen an impressive 237 bird species on the grounds, including some rare one-timers like Wilson’s phalarope, prairie warbler and spotted towhee. His life list for all of Kane County holds 275 species.

“On a good day you’ll find birds on the lake, in the marsh, flying into trees and shrubs or popping out of the drying grasses,” he says.

Habitat diversity is indeed a Nelson Lake hallmark. The open land west of the lake and marsh—corn fields just eight years ago, according to Duerr—is now restored prairie, attracting a variety of grassland birds. Dickcissels, Henslow’s and grasshopper sparrows, bobolinks and sedge wrens reside there in season.

Wetland birds are the main attraction, however. Marsh specialties include American bittern, least bittern and common moorhen. “These are tough to get anywhere else in the county, but pretty regular at Nelson,” says Scott Cohrs, another St. Charles birder.

Nelson Lake spans 40 acres, making it a prime destination for migrating ducks and geese in the spring and fall. Rarities like loons and scoters also use the lake occasionally. For the past four years, during the first week of April, a flock of American white pelicans has visited. Mark your calendars for 2007!

Put Nelson Lake on your fall schedule, too. October and November are ideal for spotting waterfowl from the observation deck near the parking lot. It’s best to get there early so the sun is at your back. Keep an eye on the trees near the deck for migrating songbirds, and don’t forget to look up—flocks of snow geese and sandhill cranes are quite likely, especially in November. You might even see tundra swans.

My own birding experiences at Nelson Lake are few, but I well remember a beautiful fall morning in 2004 when I went looking for a reported red-necked grebe. I didn’t find the grebe, but I saw a lot of great birds including nine species of ducks. Snow geese were on the water and in the air, wheeling against a perfectly blue sky.

You could spend a whole morning on Nelson Lake’s viewing platform and see plenty of birds (and birders). I also recommend the easy three-mile trail that loops around the lake and marsh. What you’ll see depends on the season, but Nelson Lake is truly an excellent birding venue year-round.

The preserve is located about three miles west of Batavia. From the village, take Main Street west to Nelson Lake Road and turn south. The entrance will be on your right. For more information, call the Kane County Forest Preserve District at (630) 232-5980.

Copyright 2006 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2006-08-03T16:07:00.000-05:00

Resources available to become a better birder
(published 8-3-06)

I’ve commented before on what a wonderfully simple and inexpensive activity birding can be. The only essential tools are binoculars and a field guide. That’s still as true as ever. But in this column I’ll highlight some additional resources that can elevate your birding skills and, hopefully, your enjoyment of the hobby.

Let’s start with two books: “Sibley’s Birding Basics” and “Pete Dunne on Bird Watching: The How-to, Where-to and When-to of Birding.” These recently published paperbacks are loaded with good advice for beginners and beyond. Make a point to read at least one of them. A third book, “The Complete Birder” by Jack Connor, is also well worth a look, especially if you’ve been at this for a while.

“All About Birds” is a terrific online reference offered free by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Imagine your field guide with sound. More than 600 species are highlighted. Go to www.birds.cornell.edu/allaboutbirds/birdguide.

If you have an e-mail account, consider signing up for IBET, a statewide list-serve where birders report their sightings and share other useful information. The network provides opportunities to see more birds, including rarities like the pileated woodpecker that visited DuPage County in June. But just reading the incoming messages is valuable—you’ll learn what birds to expect at different times throughout the year, and the best places to go see them. To sign on, send a blank e-mail to ILbirds-subscribe@yahoogroups.com, wait for the response, then follow the instructions.

If you’re not a computer user, try calling the DuPage Birding Club hotline at (630) 406-8111. You’ll hear a recorded message about what’s being seen and where. This is the low-tech alternative to IBET so sighting information is updated less frequently.

Speaking of the DuPage Birding Club, why not become a member or at least tag along on some of the group’s field trips? There is no better way to learn about birds and birding than to spend some time with others who share your interest. You’ll see new birds, too. Visit the club website, dupagebirding.org, for more information about membership, meetings and outings. To receive a sample newsletter, call (630) 933-0387.

Subscribe to Bird Watcher’s Digest or Birder’s World. These magazines, each published six times a year, will educate and inspire you. The photos alone are worth the price.

Another subscription worth having is to the quarterly newsletter of the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County. It’s free for county residents and offers a calendar of activities that always includes a few birding events at local hot spots like Fullersburg Woods, Springbrook Prairie and Tri-County State Park. To sign up, call (630) 933-7085 or send an e-mail to forest@dupageforest.com. While you’re at it, ask for a copy of “A Guide to Bird-Watching in DuPage County’s Forest Preserves.” It’s a nice booklet with tips for beginners.

Bird identification becomes a lot easier—and satisfying—when you know the songs and call notes. Think about acquiring some CDs. The narrated “Birding by Ear” series from Peterson is excellent. For just the bird sounds without the commentary, try “Stokes Field Guide to Bird Songs: Eastern Region.” Finally, if you’re new to birding, the Peterson “Backyard Bird Song” CD is a good starting point. It features 28 common birds.

Jeff Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

2006-07-06T11:25:00.000-05:00

Luck and persistence lead to backyard milestone
(published 7-5-06)

In 2002, when Sammy Sosa was still a Chicago icon, the former Cubs slugger finished the season with 499 career home runs. He had to wait until the following spring to hit the Big One.

I thought of that last fall after a black-throated blue warbler appeared in my yard. It was a completely unexpected bird, and it raised my all-time yard list to 99 species. Now, like Sammy, I’d most likely have the whole winter to ponder my date with destiny.

I’ve had my sights on 100 yard birds for the last few years, when hitting the century mark began to look like a realistic goal. I started keeping the list in 1997 when we first moved to Glen Ellyn. Since reaching about 80 species, the “game” has been a lot more challenging—growing the list now depends far more on luck than identification skills.

I was determined this spring to be in ready when a new bird came along. Almost every morning before work I spent at least an hour on the back patio, waiting and watching. That meant getting up at 5:00 a.m. but it was always worth it. I welcomed many beautiful and interesting birds, including a blue-headed vireo, scarlet tanager, Blackburnian warbler, Wilson’s warbler and veery.

The best bird of all, a male common yellowthroat, arrived on May 21. No. 100 at last! Seeing that bird—a species I’ve seen dozens of times in other places—was a special moment.

I’m still a bit surprised that my yard hadn’t produced a common yellowthroat before. The species—a striking member of the warbler family with a bright yellow breast and black mask—usually prefers wetland habitat. But like many migrating songbirds, yellowthroats can turn up just about anywhere in May. I guess it was just my turn.

Two weeks after spotting No. 100, I received a bonus. While outside watering some new grass, a pair of green herons flew in low and landed in a neighbor’s tree. After getting over the shock of just seeing these out-of-place birds, I watched for several minutes as they rested and preened. Those herons made my day, and they raised my yard list to 101.

For me, “keeping score” is part of what makes birding so much fun. I love the challenge of seeing new birds, especially in the yard, where the birds must come to you instead of you going to them. It still amazes me what can be seen and heard right outside our doors.

Of course, some doors lead to greater possibilities than others. If your yard overlooks a lake or pond, for instance, you’ll see more species. But you work with what you have. My property is small and unremarkable. It is surrounded by other houses. I’ve always felt fortunate, however, that our back patio faces west. That puts the morning sun at my back, making it easier to see and identify the birds.

When something special comes along, a bird you’ve been waiting for, it’s nice to see it in the best possible light.

Jeff Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

2006-06-02T07:58:00.000-05:00

Swainson’s hawks in Illinois? Now I’m a believer
(published 6-1-06)

Is this Colorado? No, it’s Huntley, and that’s a Swainson’s hawk up there.

I had to say this to myself, because the sight I’d driven 40 miles to see was still a bit unbelievable. Along with a dozen other birders, I was watching one of this region’s true avian specialties from our position in the northeast corner of the Huntley Outlet Mall parking lot. The location seemed almost disrespectful of the bird’s majesty, but nobody was complaining.

I’d seen a Swainson’s hawk once before, on a visit to Pawnee National Grassland northeast of Denver. You’d expect to see one there—Swainson’s are fairly common on the Western plains and prairies. Their breeding range is vast, stretching from Alaska to Mexico, and California to central Iowa. But there is one exception. For reasons not fully understood, a few Swainson’s hawks make their spring and summer home in parts of Kane and McHenry counties. They are the only Swainson’s known to nest east of the Mississippi River, and they’ve been doing it since at least 1973.

This spring, an important research project was initiated with the goal of learning more about the lives and needs of our “local” Swainson’s hawks. Vic Berardi, a veteran hawk watcher from Gurnee, is the project’s coordinator.

“In a broad sense, the project is very important for gaining knowledge of how and possibly why these hawks are living 400 miles east of their usual range,” Berardi told me. “We don’t know if this population is a remnant population or an accidental population. We’re hoping to get a better idea in the coming years.”

The study area spans more than 1,000 square miles—as far south as Sugar Grove, Huntley and I-88, and north to Harvard, near the Wisconsin border. About 30 volunteers are conducting the field surveys. (To learn more, visit the project website, http://bcnbirds.org/shp.)

There are probably 10 or fewer Swainson’s hawks living in northern Illinois. No surprise, then, that the species is on the state’s endangered list. But while further land development poses a constant threat to habitat, Berardi has a positive outlook.

“I believe the Kane/McHenry Swainson’s hawks and humans can live side by side,” he says. “We just have to make sure we approach it correctly and avoid disasters. I’ve been watching the hawks for 11 years now and I can’t imagine driving over to the Huntley area and not being able to see them.”

Luck was with me the morning I joined Berardi and the others for some “hawk shopping” at the outlet mall. I was on the scene less than 30 minutes when a beautiful Swainson’s appeared overhead against a clear blue sky. The soaring bird was unmistakable from below with its long pointed wings with light-colored linings and dark flight feathers.

It was a fabulous morning for raptors of all kinds. Along with expected species like red-tailed hawks, Cooper’s hawks and turkey vultures, we saw two kinds of falcons—American kestrel and merlin—plus an osprey. Two sandhill cranes also flew by.

But the main attraction was the Swainson’s hawk. We only saw one, but we saw it well. In Huntley, not Colorado. It was a great day to be a birder.

Jeff Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

2006-05-09T15:38:00.000-05:00

See nesting herons and more at Glen Ellyn’s Churchill Woods
(published 5-3-06)

As a birder, there are some spots you never forget—places where good fortune prevailed and you found something special. I could show you the exact tree, for example, where I saw my first yellow-billed cuckoo, a bird I’d been hoping to see for years. It was at Churchill Woods Forest Preserve in Glen Ellyn.

I’ve been visiting Churchill more often lately, not for the “cuckoo tree” but to check on some other trees containing giant nests made of sticks.

If you’ve never seen great blue heron “rookery,” now is a fine opportunity. A small nesting colony of great blues is easily visible from the parking lot just off Crescent Boulevard, the south entrance to Churchill Woods. Look across the DuPage River to the small islands and you’ll see five active nests. Four of them are clustered near the top of a tall dead tree.

Great blue herons are large, long-legged waders. They are usually seen alone, feeding along the edges of ponds and streams. So it’s almost a shock to see the birds congregating up in trees. Herons are believed to nest in colonies primarily to protect their eggs and young from predators such as raccoons.

The Churchill rookery is fairly new, according to Scott Meister, animal ecologist for the DuPage County Forest Preserve District. He told me the first nest was noticed in 2003, two appeared in 2004, and a third in 2005. So the colony is growing—a positive sign for the preserve’s ecosystem.

Visit the rookery in May and some fuzzy-headed hatchlings should be in the nests. But that’s just one reason to go birding at Churchill. The 270-acre preserve offers great habitat diversity, including mature forest, wetland, savanna and prairie. This attracts many kinds of birds. Colorful warblers, orioles and tanagers will arrive on the scene this month.

Glen Ellyn resident Jim Hedges spent all of 2005 monitoring bird populations at Churchill for the Forest Preserve District. In 88 total hours of observation, he recorded 103 species. One of his most surprising finds, he told me, was nesting red-headed woodpeckers. They are not at all common in DuPage County, and Churchill Woods is one of the few places I’ve seen them myself in this area.

Other “goodies” Jim observed last year at Churchill were alder flycatcher and nesting chestnut-sided warblers. He finds the most consistent bird activity to be along the north side of the river from the youth campground west and north to St. Charles Road. You can park at the main entrance to the preserve off St. Charles and pick up a map at the trailhead.

A unique feature of Churchill Woods is the 60-acre native prairie on the north side of St. Charles Road. Henslow’s sparrows have been seen here during breeding season in recent years. And thanks to a tip from Jim Hedges, I was able to observe American woodcocks on the prairie in early April. (I took my kids along that evening and they were far more impressed by the white-tailed deer we encountered.)

Also in April, I twice found a singing Carolina wren in the woods adjacent to the parking lot that overlooks the rookery—a very nice bonus.

Churchill Woods is a place worth exploring. For more information, go to www.dupageforest.com, or call (630) 933-7200.

Jeff Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

2006-03-02T07:09:00.000-06:00

Binoculars 101: Sample the goods, spend the money
(published 3-2-06)

I’m no expert on binoculars, but I can offer this advice: Get some good ones. You’ll never regret it.

That’s certainly been my experience. The first few years I was birding, seriously birding, I used a pair of inexpensive Bushnells that seemed just fine. I was seeing a lot of new birds and never gave much thought to my optics. Then something happened. On a visit to Indiana Dunes State Park, a fellow birder allowed me to peak through his “high end” binos. Wow! At that moment I knew the game had changed. I had to trade up.

I was tempted to go buy the same binoculars that I’d been so impressed with in Indiana. Then came sticker shock—they would cost about $1,000. So I started shopping around and ultimately acquired a Pentax 8x42 roof-prism model for less than half that amount—“free,” actually, because they were a 40th birthday present from my parents! They are wonderful binoculars that I think perform on par with costlier brands like Leica, Swarovski and Zeiss.

I knew the Pentax were right for me because I’d sampled a pair in a camera store. They felt good in my hands, delivered a bright image and, best of all, I could use them without taking my glasses off. That was quite a revelation. With the Bushnells, I’d been accustomed to whipping off my glasses before putting them to my eyes. It was a nuisance, and I’m sure I missed a few birds because of it. If you wear glasses, look for binoculars with good “eye relief”—18mm or more.

Eye relief, like roof prism, is one of the technical terms you’ll encounter when shopping for binoculars. A little basic knowledge is helpful, and a great source is Eagle Optics, a retailer that caters to birders, primarily via mail order. The company’s catalog features a buying guide (also posted online) with everything you need to know. Call 1-800-289-1132 or visit eagleoptics.com. You can also learn a lot by studying the many binocular ads in birding magazines. Some even include pricing.

For good quality binos, plan on spending at least $200. If you can go a bit higher, a nice model to consider is the Audubon Equinox HP. I picked up a pair last summer at Eagle’s store in Middleton, Wis. (It was on our way to Minnesota—I couldn’t just drive by!)

Binoculars are very personal. Everyone has their preferences. I mentioned good eye relief, and for me another key feature is twist-up or pop-up eyecups, which are superior to the rubber fold-down kind. More generally, I like a full-size, 8-power binocular that isn’t too heavy—26 oz. or less. And I wouldn’t buy anything that isn’t waterproof and fogproof.

Birding is a pretty cheap hobby when you think about it. Binoculars and a field guide are the only “required” equipment. So if your budget allows, consider investing in some better optics. The birds will look even more amazing.

Jeff Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

2006-02-10T07:37:00.003-06:00

Flocks of robins: A sure sign of winter?
(published 2-9-06)

Two years ago, shortly after my first column, I received an e-mail from a reader in Winfield. He’d just seen a robin in his backyard and wondered how that could be so in the dead of winter. Why didn’t the bird fly south? Well, turns out it probably did, and I’ll get to that in a moment.

The subject of wintering robins recently came back to mind when I was birding at Herrick Lake Forest Preserve in Wheaton. I was participating in the Audubon Society’s annual Christmas Bird Count, surveying the area with two other heat-challenged souls. Mid-morning, we encountered hundreds of American robins—far more than could be expected on a bitter cold December day.

Most of us think of robins as one of the traditional heralds of spring, and local robin populations do indeed skyrocket in March and April. But robins are in fact a fairly common winter resident in DuPage County—they just keep a lower profile. To find food, primarily berries, they hang around thickets and woods instead of our frozen yards.

So robins are with us now if you know where to look. Still, like the Winfield reader, I wondered why any robins would be here during the winter. Most robins spend the non-breeding months in the southern states and Gulf Coast. Some go as far as Guatemala.

For answers, I turned to Doug Stotz, conservation ecologist and ornithologist at Chicago’s Field Museum of Natural History. He explained that the robins we see in winter are likely not the same birds that bred here last spring and summer. Our local breeding robins tend to migrate south, so the birds we see now came from up north. Chicagoland winters are no bargain but life could be worse in places like northern Wisconsin. Makes sense. But why stop here?

“It’s true that farther south one’s life would be easier,” Stotz said, “but there are advantages to wintering farther north. One is that migration is a dangerous business. It’s probably more dangerous than getting through the winter if the minimum you need to survive is present.

“Probably more important is that by migrating less far, birds have a head start on getting back to their breeding sites. The earlier they get back, the better the selection of territories.”

Most robins we see in winter are males, Stotz says, adding that males of just about all migrating songbirds return to their breeding grounds before the females. So staying here gives them a jump on things in early spring. Male robins are easily distinguished from females by their bolder orange breasts and darker heads.

There is evidence that the “winter range” for American robins has been extending northward in recent decades. Stotz credits milder winters, more fruiting ornamentals in our yards, and increasing fruiting bushes (mostly non-natives like buckthorn and honeysuckle) in forest preserves.

Increasing overall robin numbers play a role, too. Residential areas are ideal habitat for breeding robins, so increasing land development has helped the species thrive.

For Stotz, for me and many other area birders, the first avian sign of spring is not the appearance of robins but red-winged blackbirds. In late February, males will begin establishing their territories. Visit a local marsh to see and listen for yourself—it’s a wonderful show! But let’s appreciate our robins, too. Especially the hardy ones that brighten the winter landscape.

Copyright 2006 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

2006-01-12T08:03:00.000-06:00

Car birding on Kane County’s country backroads
(published 1-12-06)

In “Diary of a Left-Handed Birdwatcher,” author Leonard Nathan recounts his frustrating quest to see a snow bunting. It’s a neat little book that I relate to closely because his “nemesis bird” is also one of mine.

A nemesis bird is a species that, against all odds, continues to elude you. These are birds that other people see but you don’t, mainly due to bad luck or timing.

On a bitter cold day last January I went looking for two species that somehow had never landed on my life list—snow bunting and Lapland longspur. In the days preceding my search I’d seen online reports of these birds in the farmlands of northwest Kane County. Directions to the best spots were very specific, so my confidence level was reasonably high when I gassed up and headed west.

This would be a day of “car birding”—not my favorite kind, but necessary. There was a lot of ground to cover, plus staying behind the wheel can be the best way to observe roadside birds in open country. The car acts as a moving blind, allowing a closer approach. A clean windshield is essential.

Well west of Geneva I began to see flocks of horned larks. They were foraging on the snow-free road shoulders and some strolled out on the road itself. At times I was close enough to see the little feather tufts or “horns” that give this bird its name.

The larks were an encouraging sign because buntings and longspurs often associate with them. With patience, and by scanning enough flocks of roadside birds, I would find my quarry.

Turns out I was half right. A few hours into my rural odyssey, near the town of Hampshire, I enjoyed good views of several Lapland longspurs. The birds were more skittish than the larks but I still managed to creep within 15 or 20 yards for a good look.

I never did find a snow bunting, so that’s one nemesis I still need to resolve. Maybe this month I’ll take another run at it. But my disappointment on that score was easily offset by the Lapland longspurs, a true winter specialty that was well worth the effort (and 97 round-trip miles). It’s getting harder for me to see a “life bird” in this region, so whenever I do it’s a very good day.

My Kane County wanderings produced two other interesting sightings. Most notable was an Eastern meadowlark—a nice find in the middle of winter. I also spotted an American kestrel, our smallest falcon, sitting on a utility wire with a mouse or shrew dangling from its bill. (Yes, it’s amazing what you can see from a moving vehicle.)

If you try car birding yourself this winter, please be safe. Country roads usually have narrow shoulders. Pull over as far as you can, use your hazard lights and be alert for other cars. Safety is another reason why it’s best to keep inside your vehicle.

Patience will come in handy, too. Birds along the road naturally flush every time a car goes by. Some birders throw some seed down to keep them coming back to the same spot. In any case, be prepared to do some waiting and lots of creeping along at less than 5 mph. Hey, at least you’ll be warm!

Jeff Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2006. All Rights Reserved.

2005-12-01T08:55:00.000-06:00

‘Tis the season to look and listen for owls
(published 12-1-05)

In the birding world, 2005 will rightly be remembered for the ivory-billed woodpecker. The announced rediscovery of the phantom bird in Arkansas last spring was truly remarkable—like an “extinct” bird rising from the dead.

But if not for the ivory-bill news, this might have been the Year of the Owl. The invasion last winter of 2,500 or more great gray owls into northern Minnesota attracted birders from throughout the country. The mass movement was triggered by a shortage of voles and other prey in Canada. Few great grays ever venture so far south, so it was a prime opportunity to see one of North America’s most sought-after birds. Northern hawk owls and boreal owls were also seen in uncommon numbers.

I didn’t make it to Duluth last winter—a fact I’m sorely reminded of when I see local birders wearing sweatshirts that commemorate the owlfest up north. So enough about great grays. Let’s talk about the owls we can enjoy close to home, starting in the backyard.

Great horned owls and eastern screech-owls are year-round residents in DuPage County. Of course, they are primarily nocturnal, and more often heard than seen. Now is the perfect time to be listening for great horned owls, in particular, as early winter marks the beginning of their mating season. Their “hooting” is loud enough to get your attention even at 3:00 a.m. If the bird sounds close, throw on a coat and go outside. These are big, chunky birds, so spotting one in a bare tree can be easy, especially on moonlit nights.

Every now and then you might encounter a great horned owl in broad daylight. When walking in one of the forest preserves, be alert if you hear crows or jays making a big fuss. They may be harassing a roosting owl in a behavior known as “mobbing.”

The other owl on my yard list tends to be more elusive. I’ve heard the eerie call of a “screechy” on just two occasions, a few days apart in August 2002. It was dusk, but my attempts to see the bird failed. Screech-owls are known to use nest boxes if you’re feeling lucky.

Other owl species can be observed in this region if you know where to look—and if you’re willing to pursue them on short notice. The owl everybody hopes to see is the snowy. This is an arctic tundra bird that wanders south in small numbers; a few usually turn up on Chicago’s lakefront every winter. The first snowy I ever saw was perched on a dock in Montrose harbor. Snowy owls in DuPage County are extremely rare.

The northern saw-whet owl is another winter specialty. Unlike the snowy, this species conceals itself during the day, roosting in dense evergreens. The traditional local “hot spot” for saw-whets is Morton Arboretum in Lisle, where the same trees and shrubs seem to attract them year after year.

Yet another winter resident is the short-eared owl, which hunts low over open fields around dusk. Good places to search include Pratt’s Wayne Woods and Tri-County State Park in Bartlett, and Fermilab in Batavia.

You can track local owl sightings by monitoring the free online list-serve for area birders. To join the network, send a blank e-mail to ILbirds-subscribe@yahoogroups.com, wait for the response, then follow the instructions. To study owl sounds and learn more about these fascinating raptors, try www.owling.com.

In the meantime, keep an ear open when you go to bed. Owls are in your neighborhood, and hearing is believing.

Jeff Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-11-04T09:24:00.000-06:00

No debate about DuPage County’s birdiest yard
(published 11-3-05)

When you spot a magnificent frigatebird soaring over Dupage County, you’re a pretty lucky birder. And that’s just what happened to Bob Fisher in September. The frigatebird, a Florida Keys and Gulf Coast native, was evidently carried here by the winds of Hurricane Katrina. It was the first documented occurrence of the species in Illinois since 1988.

For Fisher, perhaps the only thing unlucky about his frigatebird sighting is that it happened two blocks away from his south Downers Grove home. If he’d spotted it from
his own property, it would have been species No. 196 on the yard list he keeps with his wife, Karen, who’s also an avid birder.

Building a yard list of nearly 200 species is ridiculous, and I mean that in a good way. This is DuPage County, after all, not southeast Arizona or some other famous birding hot spot. I’ve been watching birds for eight years in my Glen Ellyn backyard and I’m up to 99 species. Not bad, but my list feels short when I think about what the Fishers have achieved.

“The Yard in Downers Grove,” as local birders reverently call it, it quite simply a bird magnet. And it’s much more than a yard. The Fishers home sits on 3.5 acres with many bird-friendly features, including a small creek. Trees, shrubs and flowers were planted with birds in mind, and brush piles offer further cover.

As for feeders, Bob keeps about 20 of them stocked year-round with a variety of treats. In the winter, he activates two heated birdbaths.

No wonder The Yard is a virtual aviary. It has hosted every possible eastern warbler—35 species in all. When I asked Bob about his favorite all-time sightings, he cited several. Like the time three northern goshawks were in the yard at once. And the day when an osprey landed in the willow tree, clutching a fish in its talons.

Fisher estimates that about 15 percent of his yard species have been flyovers. These include bald eagle, Mississippi kite, peregrine falcon, tundra swan and black tern. Again, ridiculous.

The Fishers like to share their sightings, so when a rarity is spotted in The Yard other birders are welcomed. Many got to see a prairie warbler that once hung around by the creek, and others came to witness an evening grosbeak.

As you would expect, the Fishers are accomplished field birders as well. Last year they set out on a “big year,” to see how many different species they could see in Illinois. Bob tallied 322 for a new state record. Karen saw 316.

The Fishers are active with the DuPage Birding Club, with Bob currently serving as president and Karen helping organize field trips. Bob also volunteers with the Bird Conservation Network.

But getting back to The Yard, Bob modestly points out that time has worked in his favor. He and Karen have been in their current home for 35 years and feeding birds the whole time. Being semi-retired also frees up more hours for observation. But luck still plays a role. Sometimes you just need to be outside at the right moment, like Bob was when those tundra swans passed over in 2003.

It’ll take more good luck, and perhaps years, for the Fisher yard list to hit 200. It will be a magnificent milestone.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-10-06T12:10:00.000-05:00

Bird-friendly Hidden Lake Forest Preserve is worth a visit
(published 10-6-05)

Considering its proximity, I really should visit Hidden Lake Forest Preserve in Glen Ellyn more often. I’ve always known it’s a “birdy” place, and after spending a morning there last month, I appreciate it even more.

The Sept. 17 outing, sponsored by the DuPage Birding Club, had high potential written all over it. We were visiting Hidden Lake during the peak of fall migration and the weather was ideal. Plus, there were 27 birders in our group. With that many eyes, the chances of seeing something good are vastly improved.

Habitat is the most important thing, of course, and Hidden Lake has plenty. At 390 acres, it’s one of the more compact local forest preserves. But what it lacks in size it makes up for in diversity.

“Within steps from the parking lot you can experience diving ducks on Round Meadow Lake, marsh birds in the cattails and shorebirds along parts of the river,” says Scott Meister, animal ecologist for the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County. “All of this is in addition to the numerous songbirds dwelling in the woods and the prairie upland surrounding the lake. Sharing a border with the Morton Arboretum can’t hurt either.”

Meister told me that Hidden Lake Forest Preserve gets its name from the lake on the south end of the preserve that’s invisible from nearby Route 53. A wide trail encircles the lake, and on the day we visited the most exciting bird activity was concentrated on the west side, where the path runs along a birm between the lake and the DuPage River. We encountered a nice pocket of migrants that included a brown thrasher, scarlet tanager, yellow-throated vireo and several warbler species. Further down the trail we spotted a Philadelphia vireo—the “bird of the day” for most of us. A red-headed woodpecker was another nice find.

The wetland areas of Hidden Lake are well-known for attracting wading birds and various shorebirds. Several birders could recall the time about eight years ago when a pair of American avocets visited the preserve. That was a freakish event, to be sure, but it supports Hidden Lake’s reputation as a shorebird magnet. Meister says the preserve’s open water and mudflats occasionally draw Caspian terns as well.

Mid-September is well beyond the peak period for migrating shorebirds, so our sightings along the river edges were limited to greater yellowlegs, killdeer and several Wilson’s snipe. We searched unsuccessfully for a sora or Virginia rail skulking along the cattails, settling instead for terrific views of several marsh wrens.

Our group tallied about 55 species in all, including a baker’s dozen of migrating warblers. The most numerous species was cedar waxwing—the most I’d ever seen in one day.

When visiting Hidden Lake, don’t expect serenity. It’s located, after all, across from a Wal-Mart. Massive utility towers are in plain view, and traffic noise is constant. But the birds don’t seem to mind, so you shouldn’t either. Just enjoy the show, and be ready for anything.

The preserve entrance is on the east side of Route 53, just south of Butterfield Road. After entering, turn right and park in the south lot. From there, walk 50 yards south to the bridge. On most days, you could stay at this spot and see a great variety of birds. Go another 100 yards or so through a woodland corridor and you’ll come to the “hidden lake” described earlier.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-09-08T08:24:00.000-05:00

Wanted: A thirsty hummingbird to call my own
(published 9-8-05)

Please do me a favor. If you have an extra hummingbird hanging around your yard, send him over to my place.

I’m having a terrific year in terms of yard birds. My annual list is up to 63 species and includes such first-time visitors as yellow-billed cuckoo, northern parula and blue-headed vireo. Those birds stopped by in May. In July, the big surprise was a red-breasted nuthatch—a bird that until this year had never appeared in the summer. Amazingly, though, I still haven’t seen a ruby-throated hummingbird whizzing around the yard.

Hopefully my luck will change this month. September can be great for hummers so be sure to keep your sugar-water feeders clean and full. Consider leaving them out well into autumn, too. In 2002 a ruby-throat visited my yard on Oct. 27! Unfortunately, I’d put away my feeder at least a month earlier.

Hummingbirds sure are fun to watch, and I took full advantage of the opportunity last month when vacationing in Minnesota. The lake resort where we stayed, near Brainerd, had a fabulous garden loaded with the tubular flowers that hummingbirds can’t resist. The birds were enjoying the cardinal flower and bee balm in particular. Now I’m more motivated than ever to do a better job of landscaping our yard for hummingbirds in 2006. Sugar-water should really be viewed as a supplementary food source; red, trumpet-shaped flowers are what the hummers like best.

The volume of advice on how to attract hummingbirds to your yard is astounding. Entire books exist on the subject, which says a lot about how much people cherish these unique birds. The Internet is a great resource too. For interesting facts and answers to all your hummingbird questions, try www.hummingbirds.net.

Although it’s possible to see about 20 kinds of hummingbirds in the United States, only one species, ruby-throated, is common east of the Mississippi River. So if you see a hummingbird around here it’s almost certainly a ruby-throat. But do look carefully because rarities are quite possible. Just last month there was a confirmed sighting of a white-eared hummingbird in Brighton, Mich. That species is normally found on the U.S.-Mexico border.

The most likely vagrant species in the Chicago area is the rufous hummingbird. Several years ago a rufous was discovered at a backyard feeder in Elgin. The very generous homeowner invited birders to come see it for themselves and many jumped at the chance.

My own appreciation of hummingbirds took a big leap three years ago when I birded in southeast Arizona for the first time. At least 15 hummer species call that region home during all or part of the year. My visit was frustratingly brief but I still managed to see seven varieties. The most memorable was a calliope hummingbird, North America’s smallest bird.

Meanwhile, back here in Glen Ellyn, I wait. There’s something very special about hummingbirds, and I’ll be disappointed if one doesn’t stop by for a drink this month. The bar is open.

Mark your calendar: Tri-County State Park in Bartlett will host a two-hour bird hike starting at 8 a.m. on Sept. 24. The event is part of festivities to celebrate the designation of Pratt’s Wayne Woods as an Illinois Important Bird Area. The entrance to Tri-County is on the north side of Stearns Road, west of Route 59. For more information, call (847) 429-4670.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-08-15T09:10:00.000-05:00

Reading up on the ivory-billed woodpecker
(published 8-11-05)

In downtown Chicago, across from my office building, there’s a natural history art gallery that specializes in the works of John James Audubon. For several months now the gallery’s front window has showcased the great painter’s rendering of the ivory-billed woodpecker. For me—and I wonder for how many others—it’s a daily reminder of the stunning news this spring that the iconic woodpecker had been rediscovered in a remote Arkansas swamp.

As a kid, I was fascinated by endangered species and recall saving a newspaper story about the ivorybill with the headline “Rakish Bird Bows Out.” I’m not sure what triggered the article, but it functioned like an official obituary. The last confirmed ivorybill sighting, after all, had been in 1944.

On April 29 I found myself clipping newspaper stories again, but these ones contained much happier news. Miraculous news, really. The ivorybill was back, and there was video to prove it. The New York Times and Chicago Tribune each gave it front page coverage. This was a story fit for mass consumption, not just birders.

Some wonderful follow-up articles have appeared this summer in the various birding and nature magazines. I especially enjoyed a piece in Audubon, written by Rachel Dickinson. She has an interesting perspective on the ivorybill rediscovery because her husband, Tim Gallagher, was among the first to see the bird in 2004. For more than a year, Dickinson had the goods but couldn’t deliver—she was sworn to secrecy along with the search team that followed up on the initial sighting.

Gallagher, meanwhile, is out with a book called “The Grail Bird” and I strongly recommend it. As editor of Living Bird, a magazine published by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, Gallagher’s credentials and writing skills are well established. Plus he is quite simply a great storyteller. After “The Grail Bird”—possibly my new all-time favorite bird book, surpassing Kenn Kaufman’s “Kingbird Highway”—I was even more intrigued by the ivory-billed woodpecker. The bird has a truly fascinating history and, now, a highly anticipated future.

Researchers will be spending a lot more time in the Big Woods region of Arkansas, trying to determine how many ivorybills exist. The territory is vast, and access is extremely difficult. That’s good for the species, of course, but tough on the people who want to help it. It’s important for them to know more so that conservation measures can be applied most beneficially. To keep up with the developing story, check out www.ivorybill.org.

Gallagher recently participated in an author’s panel at the Printer’s Row Book Fair in Chicago. I made a point to go see him. If I never see an ivory-billed woodpecker myself, I at least wanted to meet somebody who did. Less than four months ago, in my wildest dreams, I’d have never believed that would be possible.

Upcoming opportunities: For those interested in Springbrook Prairie in Naperville, the subject of my last column, the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County will conduct free bird walks at the preserve on Sept. 8th and 10th. Details are online at www.dupageforest.com – from the home page, click on Events. Or call (630) 933-7200.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Ill., resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-07-07T08:31:00.000-05:00

Springbrook Prairie offers great summer birding
(published 7-7-05)

It’s natural for birders to feel a letdown when summer arrives. The spectacular birds that filled our treetops in May are just memories now, making our resident robins, starlings, grackles and house sparrows seem far more conspicuous. My backyard, and maybe yours too, just isn’t very exciting this time of year.

Times like these call for a change in scenery. Pick any one of our local forest preserves and you may be surprised by the variety of birdlife—even in the summer. Following my own advice, I joined a DuPage Birding Club outing to Springbrook Prairie in Naperville on June 18.

It always helps when you have a ringer leading the way. Our guide was Joe Suchecki, who monitors Springbrook’s bird populations and serves as site steward for the 1,800-acre preserve. He knows the birds there better than anybody, and was eager to show them to our group of about 20 birders.

Over the years, Suchecki has documented 214 species at Springbrook, including such rarities as black rail, cinnamon teal and Mississippi kite. But our focus this morning would be grassland birds, most notably Henslow’s sparrow, a threatened species in Illinois. Suchecki estimates that 25 pairs of these birds are nesting in Springbrook’s short-grass prairie this summer, up from zero when he began his volunteer monitoring duties 12 years ago.

Ongoing restoration efforts at Springbrook—prairie plantings and the removal of non-native vegetation—are clearly paying dividends for Henslow’s sparrows and other birds that need open spaces. The National Audubon Society’s 2004 “State of the Birds” report revealed that 70 percent of grassland species are in significant decline, so habitat improvement and preservation are vitally important.

Seeing a Henslow’s sparrow takes patience and a good ear. They are secretive birds that usually stay low in the grass. The trick is to listen for a Henslow’s telltale “tsi-lick” song. That gives you the direction, then it’s a matter of watching for movement. We were lucky to view several Henslow’s, including a singing bird that perched on a grass stalk less than 50 feet from the trail.

Among the other grassland specialties we observed were bobolink, sedge wren, Eastern meadowlark and field, song, grasshopper and savannah sparrows.

In addition to prairie, Springbrook features wetlands, woodlots and scrub areas—and that means more kinds of birds. In one area by a creek we found several willow flycatchers and listened to their distinctive “fitz-bew.” Orchard orioles were another nice find. While not quite as flashy as their Baltimore cousins, they are far less common. Marshes and ponds produced killdeer, spotted sandpiper and four kinds of herons.

We identified 46 species during our three-hour tour. For many of us, the best of the bunch came at the end. That’s when Suchecki guided us to a shrubby area where, for the third straight year, several pairs of clay-colored sparrows are nesting. We heard one of the birds right away, and a few minutes later we had binoculars on it—a nice finish to a great morning of birding.

When visiting Springbrook Prairie, begin your walk from the parking lot on the west side of Plainfield-Naperville Road, just south of 75th Street. More details about the preserve, including a map, are posted on the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County website, www.dupageforest.com.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-06-09T13:07:00.000-05:00

Village Links, other golf courses can be bird sanctuaries
(published 6-9-05)

There was a time when I played golf frequently, and I cared about my game. Birding changed all that. Now I hardly play at all, and when I do I’m more interested in what birds I might see than in shooting a good score.

Golf courses can be so “birdy” that I’d be better off leaving my clubs at home. In fact, that’s what I did on May 14 when I reported to the The Village Links of Glen Ellyn for the 2005 North American Birdwatching Open. Sponsored by Audubon International, the event takes place every spring on certified habitat-friendly golf courses all over the country. Birders keep score by counting how many species they see or hear.

Our host for the day was Chris Pekarek, Village Links assistant superintendent and a 32-year employee of the golf course. Before setting out he explained how Village Links strives to be a good home for birds and other wildlife. When the 225-acre course opened in 1967, Pekarek says, “we mowed from fence to fence.” In other words, it was maintained like most of the 17,000 other golf courses in America. But things began to change in the 1980s when The Links embarked on a long-term project designed to make the course more natural. Hundreds of native trees were planted along with native prairie areas.

A key turning point came in 1991 when Audubon launched a program with the United States Golf Association. Golf courses, for the first time, were encouraged to help wildlife by limiting pesticides, improving water quality and planting protective cover. In 1993, Village Links became the first public course in the nation to be designated an Audubon Cooperative Sanctuary.

“The program’s been very positive for us,” Pekarek says, “and it was easy to get results.” He recalls putting up 10 nest boxes in 1991 and watching bluebirds move in two years later.

Eastern bluebirds remain a fixture at Village Links, although the population is up and down from year to year. There are dozens of bluebird boxes on the golf course but many are occupied by tree swallows. Active chickadee and wood duck houses are on the grounds, too.

We only saw one pair of bluebirds during the Birdwatching Open, but there was no shortage of birds overall. Pekarek took us to his favorite spots, including some obscure patches of woodland that most paying customers never notice. In one such area we found a black-throated blue warbler, one of 13 warbler species on the day.

Along the way, Pekarek showed us a killdeer nest, something I’d never seen before. It wasn’t much of a nest, just four well-camouflaged eggs lying on bare ground. The mother killdeer performed her broken-wing act in trying to divert our attention. We got the message and didn’t linger.

Not far from the killdeers we observed a red-tail hawk nest where a parent was feeding at least two youngsters.

Our final “score” was 58 species. Of course, the main point was to bring some attention to the important role that Village Links and other golf courses can play in providing bird habitat. The Links, in turn, sponsors the Glen Ellyn Backyard Wildlife Program for habitat-minded homeowners. To request information, send an e-mail to GEVLCP@aol.com.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-04-08T10:39:00.000-05:00

‘Field’ trip reveals trove of avian treasures
(published 4-7-05)

Museums are not usually my thing, unless you count “outdoor museums” like the Morton Arboretum. But when the opportunity arose to go on a behind-the-scenes tour of Chicago’s Field Museum I jumped at the chance.

The February event was sponsored by the Chicago Ornithological Society so naturally the focus was on the Field’s world-renowned bird collection. It proved to be a fascinating two hours for me and about 25 other birders.

The Field houses more than 450,000 bird specimens, and about 90 percent of the world’s 10,000 known species are represented. Only a small percentage of them are on display to the public. The rest of the specimens are in storage and used for research. The Field is truly a working museum, and ornithologists from throughout the country rely on its resources.

Some specimens are in the form of eggs or skeletons, but most are “skins”—essentially birds cleaned out and stuffed with cotton. The skins are stored on wide trays in large, climate-controlled cabinets, keeping them dry, dark and safe from pests. The smell of mothballs permeates the air.

Dave Willard, collection manager for the bird division, has hosted more than a few of these tours during his 28 years at the Field. He knew exactly how to push our buttons. In the skins collection, he first pulled out a tray of exotic birds from New Guinea. These were like fantasy birds, with impossibly brilliant colors and spectacular tail feathers.

We viewed only a tiny fraction of the skins, of course. One of the highlights for me was when Willard retrieved a specimen that I donated myself in 2002. It was a worm-eating warbler, picked up in downtown Chicago after it crashed into a building. A tag attached to the specimen’s leg said when and where the bird was found, and who found it. (Side note: I’m still searching for my first live worm-eating warbler!)

Willard told us that many of the Field’s locally acquired specimens are victims of building collisions during the spring and fall migration seasons. Over the years, more than 30,000 birds have been gathered from outside the McCormick Place convention center alone!

The Field’s owl inventory skyrocketed recently thanks to this winter’s “invasion” in northern Minnesota. Great gray owls, in particular, were unusually abundant in the Duluth area due to a decline in prey in Canada’s boreal forests, where the owls reside year-round. The phenomenon was great for birders—including dozens from here who traveled north—but not for the owls. Cars and trucks hit many of them, since great grays are low-flying hunters and tend to be unwary of highway traffic. With cooperation from the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources, the Field acquired more than 300 owl carcasses.

Our tour included the opportunity to see and touch several extinct species, such as the ivory-billed woodpecker, Carolina parakeet, passenger pigeon and Bachman’s warbler. It was a neat experience but also a haunting one. Holding those skins, I wondered what unfortunate species might be next. Would people taking this same tour 50 years from now be passing around an extinct cerulean warbler? Or a Henslow’s sparrow? I hope not, but the trends are not good. Stanford University researchers predicted recently that at least 10 percent of all bird species will disappear by 2100. And the latest issue of Audubon notes that 28 percent of bird species are significantly declining.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-03-03T09:59:00.000-06:00

Watching woodcocks: A favorite rite of spring
(published 3-3-05)

For birders, signs of spring start well before winter gives up its grip. In mid-February male cardinals started singing from high perches, and red-winged blackbirds descended on the local marshlands, setting up territories and belting out their familiar “conk-a-ree.” These are great sounds to hear after so many cold, snowy days.

Another early spring tradition I look forward to is the courtship ritual of the American woodcock. This is one of the true highlights of the local birding year and something every bird watcher should witness at least once.

As a kid, one of my first “beyond the backyard” birding experiences was a trip to the Stark Wilderness Center in Wilmot, Ohio. The center was hosting their annual woodcock watch and, frankly, I don’t recall being too thrilled about being there. It felt a lot like one of those snipe hunts at summer camp, except it was cold. Nor do I remember actually seeing a woodcock. I must have, though, because a few years ago I found an old Peterson field guide at my parent’s home—one of my first bird books. In the back there was a bird checklist and next to American woodcock was faded little “x.” The mark was mine.

Seeing this species does take some effort. As with many birds, success depends on being in the right place at the right time. Area forest preserves offering reliable woodcock sites—typically brushy fields adjacent to damp, open woodland—include Green Valley, Pratt’s Wayne Woods, Herrick Lake, West DuPage Woods and Springbrook Prairie. Wolf Road Prairie in Westchester is another good spot.

As for timing, try for dawn or just after sunset when the weather is dry and calm. Late March through mid-April is the peak viewing period.

The view you’re looking for is a male woodcock performing his aerial mating dance for the females on the ground. The chunky, long-billed bird spirals high into the sky, making a twittering sound with his wings during the ascent. After reaching his apex, he zig-zags back to earth like a falling-leaf. On the ground, in between flights, woodcocks make a buzzy, one-syllable call that’s easily recognized.

All of this takes place at twilight, so woodcocks are seldom seen in great detail. Occasionally, though, a high-beam flashlight can pick up a bird when it lands, affording a glimpse of these odd-looking birds. When darkness sets in the show is over.

Plan to join one of several woodcock outings offered by local birding clubs later this month. Non-members are welcome. The DuPage Birding Club will sponsor evening watches on six different dates beginning on March 23. Full details, including starting times and directions, are posted at www.dupagebirding.org. Or call 630-985-2956.

Kane County Audubon has a woodcock watch scheduled for March 30 at Paul Wolff Forest Preserve on Big Timbers Road, west of Randall Road near Elgin. Start time is 5:30 p.m. For more information, call 630-584-8386.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. You can reach him at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-02-10T07:24:00.000-06:00

Wintering eagles are just a few hours away
(published 2-10-05)

My last column was about winter bird watching and the birds that make this season special. Now comes part two, but with a focus on one species, the bald eagle.

Winter is indeed the best time to go eagle watching. The birds congregate on the Mississippi and Illinois Rivers in spots where open water allows them to catch fish. If you don’t mind a road trip, you can easily observe bald eagles through early March, before most of the birds return to their northern nesting grounds.

I saw my first bald eagle in the wild in 1996 and the memory is still vivid. I was walking with a naturalist at Kiawah Island, S.C., when we noticed a large dark raptor soaring above. Our binoculars then confirmed the trademark white head and white tail—a postcard image against the morning’s clear blue sky.

My experience at Kiawah made me want to see more eagles, so a few months later I joined a bus full of birders for a trip to the Mississippi. On that bitter-cold February day, my number of lifetime eagle sightings rose from one to about 50.

The winter eagle population in Illinois is healthy and growing—a great comeback story considering that about 40 years ago our national symbol appeared headed for extinction. You can’t help but think of that when watching these noble birds of prey.

But where to watch? There are many options. If you can spare two days instead of one, I recommend an overnight trip to the Mississippi. Spending the night in eagle country lets you be at the river in the early morning, when the birds are most active.

In Galena, the Eagle Nature Foundation sponsors bald eagle bus tours on selected Saturday mornings. For details, call 815-594-2306 or visit www.eaglenature.com. If you prefer an independent tour, consider visiting Cassville, Wis., or Guttenberg, Iowa. Both river towns are near Lock and Dam No. 10 and two power-generating plants, which ensures plenty of unfrozen water for the birds. The lock and dam has an observation deck for eagle watchers, as does Cassville’s Riverside Park.

Further south, in Illinois, a good starting point for a self-guided driving tour is Lock and Dam No. 12, just north of Savanna. From there, just follow the Mississippi River south along Highway 84, stopping where you please. Lock and Dam No. 13, five miles north of Fulton, provides a viewing platform and heated restrooms too!

Another great vantage point is across the river from Fulton in Clinton, Iowa. Just north of town is Eagle Point Park, where you can look down on the dam and watch the eagles from above.

The nearest eagle watch option is Starved Rock State Park in Utica—about 85 miles away. If you go, head for the observation deck at the Illinois Waterway Visitor Center in Ottawa, located across the Illinois River from the park. It’s open seven days a week and offers fine views of Plum Island, a haven for wintering eagles. For more information, call 815-667-4054 or visit www.flocktotherock.com.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. He can be reached at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2005-01-06T07:44:00.000-06:00

Winter bird watching can be full of surprises
(published 1-6-05)

When I was new to bird watching, I spent winter waiting for spring. Too cold for any interesting birds to be around, right? Well, turns out I was missing a lot. In the backyard and out in the field, there’s a lot to see (and hear) this time of year.

It’s a great season for owls, in particular. Last month I received a most welcome 1:45 a.m. wake-up call from a great horned owl. Winter is when this species is most vocal so you may want to leave your window open a crack. You might even hear an eastern screech owl, which, like the great horned, lives here year-round.

Other kinds of owls are just visiting. I’ll never forget a December bird outing in 1998 when, near the end of a long cold day, our group leader took us to Pratts Wayne Woods in Bartlett to search for short-eared owls, an endangered species in Illinois. Sure enough, as if on cue, the owls started flying around just before dusk.

Less than two months later, at Morton Arboretum, I was thrilled to see my first Northern saw-whet owl. Amazingly, that same February day at the Arb, birders located a Townsend’s solitaire, a Western species very rarely seen around here.

Indeed, a few rare birds seem to turn up every winter. Just last month, in fact, local birders spotted two more Western rarities—a varied thrush at Calumet Park and a lark bunting at West Aurora Forest Preserve. My schedule didn’t allow me to try for the thrush, and my one attempt to see the bunting was unsuccessful.

My luck was better last January when I caught a fleeting glimpse of a spotted towhee that turned up in Winfield. It wasn’t the prolonged view one hopes for when seeing a species for the first time, but at least I saw the bird.

Of course, there are a number of cold-weather “specialties” that occur here every year. Besides the owls already mentioned, some of the most coveted winter visitors are rough-legged hawk, snowy owl, northern shrike, Lapland longspur, snow bunting, common redpoll and white-winged crossbill. Find two or three of these species and you’ve had a good winter.

If you bird watch from the kitchen window, look for uncommon winter species that may join your regular feeder birds—pine siskins, purple finches and redpolls, for example. It’s also fun to spot familiar birds that are generally scarce in winter, like robins, flickers and white-throated sparrows. Even a catbird or hermit thrush could make a surprise appearance.

One of my backyard highlights of 2004 was the yellow-rumped warbler that visited our heated birdbath on January 6. Yellow-rumps are fairly common in the spring and fall, and a few of them are known to spend the winter here. Still, it was a shock to see one on that cold, snowy day. It was also a reminder of why I love this hobby—the element of surprise. During any month of the year, day or night, you just never know.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who enjoys birding at home and in the field. He can be reached at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.

2004-12-03T16:49:00.000-06:00

These gifts for bird watchers are sure to fly
(published 12-2-04)

For a birder, the best presents are those that money can’t buy. Like a backyard owl on Christmas Eve, or a redpoll at the feeder the next morning. Events such as these would clinch a happy holiday for anybody who appreciates birds.

But just in case, you’d better have a back-up plan. Here are 10 gift ideas for serious and casual bird watchers alike:

-- A second field guide. It really helps to have a second resource, especially when confronted with an identification challenge. I refer to the Peterson, Sibley and National Geographic guides all the time. Each book has unique strengths.

-- Binoculars. This is a sensitive gift choice. Like neckties for men, it’s best to let birders choose their own optics. That said, a good pair of binoculars is potentially the most useful and most appreciated gift you can bestow. And every birder needs a reliable secondary pair. But unless you know exactly what the birder wants, buy a gift certificate.

-- A new feeder. Consider a specialty feeder that will help attract more species. A tube-style thistle feeder will draw goldfinches and pine siskins, or go with a peanut feeder to serve chickadees, nuthatches and woodpeckers. If choosing a hummingbird feeder, look for a durable design—many glass ones are beautiful works of art but not very practical.

-- Heated birdbath. Fresh water is a backyard magnet for birds any time of year, especially during winter. Cleaning and filling is a chore when it’s frigid outside but the results will justify the effort.

-- Bird seed storage container. Not a glamorous gift, I know, but keeping seed dry, fresh and safe from garage critters is important. Select a container designed specifically for this purpose. Mine is heavy-duty plastic with an airtight lid and holds 25 pounds of seed. If you give one of these, fill it up with black-oil sunflower seeds and maybe bury a surprise.

-- Bird song CDs. Identification becomes a lot easier when you learn the songs and call notes. And those who know them tend to find more birds. The Peterson “Birding by Ear” series is excellent.

-- A good book. This was a banner year for birders who like to read. Amazingly, three full-length biographies on John James Audubon appeared. Two other new books tell the sad but fascinating story of the ivory-billed woodpecker. And birders are still talking about “The Big Year.” It’s highly entertaining, and also recommended for non-birder spouses who need to realize that birding obsessions are truly a matter of degree. “The Birdwatcher’s Companion” is another recent title worth investigating.

-- Memberships. The ones I think of first are the DuPage Birding Club and Kane County Audubon. Either club will open doors to new birding adventures and new friends who are eager to share the hobby. Or how about The Morton Arboretum? It’s one of this area’s best birding spots and the new visitor center makes it better than ever.

-- Magazines. You couldn’t go wrong by giving a subscription to Bird Watcher’s Digest or Birder’s World. Each is published six times a year.

-- Bird-a-day calendar. I love these things. Along with great photos, they offer interesting facts about common species and introduce us to exotic ones. The featured species on Sept. 25, for example, was East Africa’s bare-faced go-away bird. I quickly added that one to my running list of favorite bird names. Right after superb fairy wren.

I hope that your holidays are equally superb, and that you take some time to enjoy the birds!

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who became hooked on birding about 10 years ago. He can be reached at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2004. All Rights Reserved.

2004-11-04T09:28:00.000-06:00

Close encounters of the nuthatch kind
(published 11-4-04)

It’s about a 20-minute walk from the Chicago train station to my office. Over the years, I’ve seen some great birds during that walk, including my first blue-winged warbler. I’ve also seen some surprising things on the sidewalk. Severed heads, for instance. Bird heads. One belonged to a red-headed woodpecker, the other to a northern flicker. The butchery was likely committed by a peregrine falcon.

Another interesting sidewalk birding experience took place in September. Walking east along Wacker Drive I noticed what looked like a leaf floating toward the ground ahead of me. It landed softly, and a few steps later I was looking down at a male red-breasted nuthatch—the first one I’d ever encountered downtown. The tiny bird had smacked into a building but was still alive. I picked him up and he seemed to be in good shape, just stunned. Sometimes a safe, quiet spot is enough to help a bird recover, so I placed the bird under some nearby shrubs. He was gone when I checked at the end of the day.

The red-breasted nuthatch has always been one of my favorite backyard visitors, so it was a thrill to hold that bird in my hand. What a beautiful and virtually weightless little creature.

Nuthatches are a joy to watch, and watching them became a whole lot easier once I bought a peanut feeder. In recent years I’ve had one or two coming and going almost daily from October into April. The birds enjoy black oil sunflower seeds and suet as well, but it’s the shelled peanuts that really keep them coming back. Plus, the peanut feeder is great for watching nuthatches eat upside down, one of their many quirky habits. Chickadees, downy woodpeckers and red-bellied woodpeckers use the feeder, too.

There are two species of nuthatches in this area, red-breasted and white-breasted. Generally speaking, white-breasteds are more common. They are year-round residents, whereas red-breasteds arrive here after spending spring and summer further north.

A friend of mine who lives close by has white-breasted nuthatches in her backyard all the time, but she never sees red-breasted. In my yard the opposite is true. A lot depends on habitat—white-breasted nuthatches tend to prefer big trees, especially oaks.

Once, and only once, I had both species converge on my peanut feeder at the same time. Next to the red-breasted, the more robust white-breasted looked huge. But consider this: the combined weight of the two birds was about one ounce!

Like chickadees, nuthatches can be very trusting. One time, a red-breasted landed on my peanut feeder just as I was about to hang it up. I froze and was able to watch the bird 12 inches from my face for a few precious seconds. With patience, nuthatches will even take food from your hand. I hope to experience that some day. For now, I’m happy to watch them at any distance.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who became hooked on birding about 10 years ago. He can be reached at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2004. All Rights Reserved.

2004-09-30T09:35:00.000-05:00

Bird list growing at Tri-County State Park
(published 9-30-04)

You know a place is serious about birds—and about attracting birders—when it publishes its own bird checklist. So it is with Tri-County State Park in Bartlett, which I visited for the first time on Sept. 4.

I’m embarrassed that it took me so long to get there. The 500-acre preserve—parts of which are in Cook, DuPage and Kane Counties—opened to the public in April 2003. Since then I’d heard good things about Tri-County, including some very promising bird reports. One that stands out is a field trip last April when birders spotted more than 50 Wilson’s snipe. Talk about a successful snipe hunt!

Tri-County is unique for being a joint venture between the Forest Preserve District of DuPage County and the Illinois Department of Natural Resources. The Forest Preserve District manages the park and conducts environmental education programs on the grounds and in the impressive new visitor center.

Kevin Luby, one of several naturalists on staff, is Tri-County’s resident bird expert. He told me that nearly 100 species have been seen at the park since record keeping began in June 2003. Notable species sighted this year include bald eagle, osprey, sandhill crane, northern shrike, orchard oriole, yellow-headed blackbird, sedge wren and dickcissel. Among the park’s known breeding birds are wood duck, American woodcock, sora rail and Wilson’s snipe.

In August, birders discovered a common moorhen with four chicks in the wetland just north of the Indigo Trail loop—an excellent find for this area. A couple of those chicks were seen again when I toured Tri-County with the DuPage Birding Club. I was not among the lucky observers, but it was still a great morning. A highlight for me was learning the gurgling song of the marsh wren and then enjoying great looks of the bird at close range.

As a birding venue, Tri-County is very good and will only get better. The park offers five miles of easy-to-walk trails that showcase a nice variety of avian habitats. Native prairie and wetland restoration projects on the former farm fields will produce great benefits for migrating and breeding birds in the coming years. Displays in the visitor center explain the remarkable transformation that is taking place due to the Forest Preserve District’s efforts.

Currently, Luby says, most of Tri-County’s birds are seen in the marsh areas or in shrubby patches along Brewster Creek. For birders who want the “most bang for their buck,” he recommends the short Indigo Trail. He also likes the bridge between the Indigo and Bluestem Trails for spotting warblers and vireos in the spring. Pick up a map (and a bird list) at the visitor center.

Luby will lead bird walks beginning at 8:30 a.m. on Oct. 12 and Nov. 9. The walks are free but advance sign-up is required—call (847) 429-4670. The entrance to Tri-County is on the north side of Stearns Road, west of Route 59.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who became hooked on birding about 10 years ago. He can be reached at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2004. All Rights Reserved.

2004-09-16T11:55:00.000-05:00

So many birds, and so many things to learn
(published 9-16-04)

It happened again. On August 20, a bird made my day.

When I least expected it, smack in the dog days of summer, a Carolina wren visited my yard. A first! And like it so often does in birding, luck played a big role.

The lucky part is that I happened to be outside. It was one of those unseasonably cool days last month so I took my coffee and newspaper out on the patio. I was keeping an eye on our bird feeders, of course, but not expecting anything unusual. Then I heard it—a strikingly loud and distinctive song. I knew instantly that I’d never heard it before, at least not in the backyard.

I really should have recognized that sound. I’ve seen and heard Carolina wrens many times while vacationing in South Carolina, where it’s the state bird. But on my patio that morning I guess I was too surprised to think. I needed to see the singer. Fortunately, after an agonizing minute or two, the wren popped into view.

When the bird moved on—it never went near my feeders—I went inside and grabbed my “Birding by Ear” CDs. I wanted to hear that song again. That’s when I learned something interesting. The narrator said that the Carolina wren is one of the few birds that sing year-round. Come to think of it, it did seem odd to hear a bird singing like that it in mid-August. Later I looked in a few books to find out more. Carolina wrens are not migratory, which I didn’t know, and the Chicago area is about as far north as they ever go. Like mockingbirds, another “southern” species, they are said to be turning up in DuPage County with increasing regularity.

Seeing the wren was a great surprise, and learning some facts about it made the experience even better.

Lately I’ve been reminded how much more there is to learn about birds, even the common ones. A few weeks ago I was reading “Two Blue Jays” to my 3-year-old son. From that children’s book I discovered that the blue jay is the only bird that will bury nuts and seeds in the ground and come back to them later. I knew jays were clever but I didn’t know that.

Then last month I went online to check out Laura Erickson’s monthly birding column in the Minneapolis Star Tribune. She wrote that cedar waxwings, when building their nests, sometimes steal building materials from the nests of their neighbors. This information took my opinion of waxwings down a notch, but I still think they are the best-dressed birds on the block.

We can all enjoy birds just by looking at them, and sometimes that’s enough. But learning about their habits and lifestyles can help us appreciate them even more. As birders, it’s always rewarding when we take the time to be curious.

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who became hooked on birding about 10 years ago. He can be reached at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2004. All Rights Reserved.

2004-09-03T10:54:00.000-05:00

Online network spreads the joy of birding
(published 9-2-04)

One of my goals for this column is to share resources that can make birdwatching even more enjoyable. I’ve written about our local birding clubs, for example, and I’ve recommended some good books and useful Web sites. This time I’d like to tell you about an online community known as IBET, which stands for Illinois Birders Exchanging Thoughts.

The name is a little misleading—IBET is not some sort of intellectual think tank for birders. Yes, thoughts are exchanged, but the network is mostly used for reporting local bird sightings. The “what, when and where” is valuable information for birders who want to see more species, including the truly rare ones that occasionally visit the Chicago area.

As of mid-August, IBET had 588 registered members according to Sue Friscia, a birder from Alsip who founded the list-serve in 1985. Her motivation? “I was obsessed with knowing what everyone else was seeing and didn’t want to miss anything,” she says.

Devoted IBET users don’t miss much, that’s for sure. News travels quickly on the network, often leading to spur-of-the-moment birding opportunities that are too good to pass up. A few years ago I was in my downtown Chicago office when I noticed a fresh IBET posting about a least bittern at North Pond in Lincoln Park. The secretive marsh-dwelling species had been spotted about an hour earlier. What the heck, I decided, it’s Friday afternoon. So I grabbed my binoculars and dashed out the door to catch a northbound bus. I was on the scene 20 minutes later and, fortunately, so was the bird—in plain view, perched on a low branch just above the water. It was the first least bittern I’d ever seen, and IBET made it possible.

The network is valuable in other ways, too. It’s a place to ask questions and get answers, and a place to share birding stories that might otherwise go untold. Plus, at any given time, there’s usually a spirited discussion going on about some aspect of the hobby. For example, a recent exchange focused on the merits of field guides with illustrations versus those with actual photographs of birds. (For the record, most participants seemed to prefer illustrated books.)

The number of daily messages posted to IBET varies greatly by season. During the peak of spring and fall migration, when waves of non-resident birds are moving through the region, the network may receive 40 or 50 postings a day. That’s information overload for many of us. But if you read just a fraction of the messages you’ll get a good sense of what birds to watch for at different times throughout the year—and even what to expect in your backyard tomorrow.

So, if you’re a computer user and you want the latest local birding news, give IBET a try. Membership is free. To join the network, send a blank e-mail to ILbirds-subscribe@yahoogroups.com, wait for the response, and then follow the instructions. (Note: “ILbirds” is the group’s formal name for registration purposes but users still call it IBET.)

Reiter is a Glen Ellyn, Illinois, resident who became hooked on birding about 10 years ago. He can be reached at jreiter@wordsonbirds.com.

Copyright 2004. All Rights Reserved.