The author's late parents, Rollin and Dori Reiter, pictured in
in 2015 at The Wilderness Center, in Wilmot, Ohio.
Two more reasons I’m a birder

(published 4-29-21)

Birdwatchers often refer to a “spark bird”—a sighting experience that launched them into this wonderfully addictive hobby. I have one myself, a hooded warbler, spotted in 1994. Seeing it, and then figuring out what it was, hooked me for good.

It’s fun to have a spark bird but there is usually more to the story—true in my case, for sure. I was interested in birds as a kid. The hooded warbler ignited something that was already there.

If I’ve become a bird nerd, I blame my parents. In a good way. I’ve been thinking about them a lot since they passed in January, on consecutive days in Florida. Dad was 92, mom 90.

My folks were not devoted birders, but they were bird friendly. They kept a full feeder in our Canton, Ohio, backyard, and a Peterson field guide within reach. In the fall, dad would call attention to V formations of migrating Canada geese, a spectacle worth watching. Geese had a better reputation back then.

Our family of four traveled outside the neighborhood for birds, too. I remember an evening trip to The Wilderness Center in Wilmot, where mom did some volunteering. It was March or April, not warm, and we were woodcock watching. At the time, I didn’t know a woodcock from a woodchuck.

I think we saw American woodcocks performing their aerial courtship display but can’t swear to it. The experience, not the bird, is what I recall. Fifty-plus years later, I’m a dues-paying member of The Wilderness Center and my father-in-law is at rest in Foxfield Preserve, the center’s conservation burial ground.

Another family adventure took us to Hinckley, for Buzzard Sunday, a classic “rite of spring” event. I guess you could say it was my first birding festival. Legend says that the buzzards (turkey vultures) return to Hinckley Ridge every year on March 15. It’s Ohio’s version of the famous swallows of San Juan Capistrano in California, only more reliable.  Hinckley’s been celebrating the homely buzzards every year since 1957. Did we see them? Again, my recall is fuzzy, but the pancakes and hot chocolate were good.

Mom instigated those family outings and encouraged my interest in the natural world. Thanks to her, I became an avid subscriber to Ranger Rick from the National Wildlife Federation and treasured my collection of annual NWF stamps. I became a nature boy, diverging from my more athletic older brother.

Around age 10, before I was old enough to join Boy Scouts and attend Camp Tuscazoar, mom and dad sent me to a one-week “conservation camp” in Kentucky, a place I surely learned about in Ranger Rick. The camp was in the Land Between the Lakes, near Paducah. I was too young to appreciate the natural beauty of the place. What I remember most is a mop-topped boy named Jeremy who was obsessed with birds and could ID anything with wings. We called him Bird Man. I didn’t necessarily want to be like him—perhaps I was beginning to question if birding was cool—but his skills impressed me.

The author and his dad visited this birding
hotspot in 2001, our country's southernmost
national park. For the senior Reiter, a U.S. history 
buff, it was all about the fort.
Flash forward to April 2001, my first of two trips with dad when birding was the main objective. I was deep into the hobby by then, and eager to see new species. Somehow, I talked dad into a three-day Florida Nature Tours excursion to Dry Tortugas National Park, a group of tiny islands 70 miles west of Key West.

Dry Tortugas was a perfect destination. As a history buff, dad was keen on visiting Fort Jefferson, the massive 19th-century garrison that dominates the park. He’d be happy exploring the fort while I explored the birdlife.

My plan worked! Sort of. Accommodations on the tour’s small ship were subpar, and dad took ill on the ride back to Key West. He’d spend the next several weeks recovering from acute diverticulitis.

Dad apparently forgave me because in 2014 he agreed to an all-day field trip with Hendry-Glades Audubon Society, in the Lake Okeechobee region of south-central Florida. We drove up the night before, and this time our beds were fine, at the historic Clewiston Inn. A fading but still beautiful hand-painted mural depicting Florida birds covered the walls in the hotel’s little tavern—a good omen. Better yet, it was fried chicken night in the dining room down the hall, like they knew we were coming.

The next day, his 86th birthday, dad shared my excitement in spotting a crested caracara, my No. 1 target bird for the trip. Later we bagged a scissor-tailed flycatcher. We enjoyed those birds a lot.

Rollin Reiter's hand-carved decoys, like this
wood duck pair, were coveted by family and 
friends. Some of them won awards.

Mom wasn’t on board for these adventures, opting to stay home in Key Largo with the ducks. Decoys, that is, about three dozen of them. Dad began carving and painting decoys in the late 1970s, soon becoming an accomplished amateur artist. His ducks, geese, and shorebirds, plus others purchased from master carvers, were widely admired by friends and family.

The decoys (and duck-inspired art on our walls) were an important aspect of my bird-filled upbringing. I learned about the importance of Ducks Unlimited and the federal duck stamp. Hunting isn’t my thing, but dad taught me to appreciate the conservation role played by waterfowlers. I purchase a duck stamp every year and probably always will. 

My final bird walk with dad, if you can call it that, was a brief stroll down his street last October. He was in a wheelchair, pushed by Linda, a young caregiver. To her, the game of looking for birds and trying to identify them was completely new. She was amazed when a bird landed in plain view and I told her it was Florida’s state bird, a northern mockingbird. Dad knew the species well, his favorite songster, and it momentarily lifted his spirits.

I wanted to thank that neighborhood mocker for its good timing. Today, I’m thanking a higher spirit for the two people who made birds and birding a part of me forever. It’s cool now.

Copyright 2021 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

Al Stokie recorded his 400th Illinois bird last December in Channahon,
where a Great Kiskadee made a first-time appearance in the state.
He’s shown here at Hidden Lake Forest Preserve in Downers Grove. 
The birding life

Al Stokie, the area’s most prolific birder, writes a daily report that fellow watchers treasure

(published 3-10-21)

We are all creatures of habit. But to describe the daily routine of Al Stokie as habitual would be selling him short. It’s much more: curiosity, discipline and obsession all rolled into one.

The man went birding every single day in 2020, usually leaving his Park Ridge home before sunrise.

When I contacted Al for this column, he was hesitant. “I’m not really a very interesting person,” he said. “I’m just an old retired guy who goes birding a lot.”

Birders in the Chicago region view him differently. To us, Al is a fountain of information. His daily journal entries, composed after his morning adventures, are posted on the birding list-serv known as IBET, short for Illinois Birders Exchanging Thoughts.

The reports tell us where Al went today, what he saw, what he missed and who he ran into. We learn about places to visit, best times to go and what to expect. And through Al’s words, we experience the ups and downs of the hobby we love.

Each post begins with “Hello Bird People” and ends with his Bird of the Day award. Occasionally, he’ll declare a Fancy Pants Bird of the Day, an honor reserved for a particularly striking bird that catches his eye. Mammal sightings, fast food preferences and unusual license plates may get a mention, too.

A Vietnam vet with a master’s degree in early modern European history from Northwestern, Al spent his entire working career at DoALL Sawing Products in Des Plaines (now Wheeling). His job involved “getting reports out and distributed to the proper people.”

Hearing that made perfect sense. At 75, Al is still reporting.

Al Stokie scans the open water at Hidden Lake, looking 
for something special among the Canada geese and
mallards. "You can't have a kiskadee every day," he said.

The year he retired, 2013, Al purchased a Prius C that now sports 135,000 miles, reflective of his Iron Man birding ethic. Rain and snow may alter his plans, but he still goes birding—some days solo and other days with a friend or two.

“What I like most is searching for whatever birds I may find. Every day is different!”

Ah yes, the search. I can feel birders nodding their heads. Most of us love that aspect of birdwatching, especially when a rare species comes to town.

What sets Al apart, besides dogged persistence, is his humble acceptance of whatever a new day of birding may bring. He’s a master of finding little things to celebrate. Last month, he went out of his way to track down a reported killdeer—a common shorebird that’s quite uncommon in January. He recognized the significance of that bird and had to go see it.

Almost a year ago, in early March, Al challenged himself to see how many kinds of ducks he could find in a single day, touring the Palos area. His best-case scenario, with luck, was 20 species. He found them all, and his post-game report offered a fascinating lesson in bird-finding strategy.

Rarities, of course, get Al excited just like the rest of us. He often plans his birding around sightings gleaned the night before from IBET, eBird or messages from his birding buddies.

“I may want to chase a rarity but if there are none [being reported] then I might try a place I haven’t been in a while or check a place that should be good for a certain species at that time of year.”

American Redstart by Jackie Bowman 
Sometimes his destination is a no-brainer, as it was on December 6, 2020, when Al made a beeline to Channahon for a mega-rare great kiskadee reported the day before. That bird became Al’s 400th species for Illinois, a milestone that only nine other birders have achieved.

Al didn’t begin serious birding until 1985, but he recalls two formative sightings in the late 1970s, both in Des Plaines. The first was a male American redstart, a colorful member of the warbler family. Al was impressed.

The other bird was a tiny owl in a tree. After seeing it, Al spent a half hour walking back to his car and drove home (another half hour) to retrieve his camera. He then returned to the bird, which fortunately hadn’t moved. He took photos and later figured out it was a saw-whet owl.

Saw-whet Owl by Philip Dunn
If anything was a spark bird, that was it," he told me. 

These days, Al has a particular fondness for shorebirds, a category offering significant ID challenges. He’s good at telling them apart but firmly denies being an expert. “They’re big enough to see well and they aren’t as flighty as warblers,” he said, explaining his attraction.

Something else needed explanation: his lack of cellphone. Can a man who seeks rare birds not own such an essential tool?

“I’ve been with birders who get calls and messages every 10 minutes and I’d rather not go through that. I know that I miss some information about sightings but so be it.”

Al isn’t against technology; he just prefers to be off the grid while birding. I find that admirable, but not half as much as his eagerness to share what he sees and learns. Reading his stuff can make you a better birder.

Little wonder that Al is beloved within the birding community. That won’t change, but his daily regimen probably will. He talks about slowing down due to mobility issues. The Prius is fine, his legs are not.

Fortunately, there are many ways to bird—phones are optional, and so are long hikes! Al might finally spend some time watching his yard. I’ll be reading those reports, too.

To join the IBET network, a free service, send an email to ilbirds+subscribe@googlegroups.com.

Copyright 2021 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.



First in Illinois: This great kiskadee attracted birders from throughout
the Midwest to Will County earlier this month. Photo by Matt Misewicz.
What a year for birders!

Watchers in 2020 enjoyed relief from pandemic stress and a flurry of rare sightings

(published 12-17-20)

The scene along Front Street in Channahon as dozens of
birders wait for a glimpse of the great kiskadee.
Photo by Ryan Jones.
You probably heard about “Rocky,” the saw-whet owl discovered last month inside the huge Christmas tree on Rockefeller Plaza in New York. The adorable stowaway became an instant star, giving the Big Apple and nation a welcome feel-good story.

Around the same time, local birders found their own saw-whet to fawn over at Morton Arboretum. But a far more unexpected traveler would soon arrive in Channahon—a great kiskadee found by John Weisgerber on December 2. The species, a first record for Illinois, normally resides in South Texas and Mexico. Hundreds of birders scurried to the Des Plaines Widewaters Conservation Area in Will County for a peek, including me.  

The “Miracle on Front Street” brought the curtain down on a birding year full of surprises. Well, not quite. A week later, in almost the same spot, a western tanager turned up, reported by Niklas Klauss. It was Channahon’s third rarity in three weeks, a hot streak that began with a Eurasian wigeon in late November. You guessed it: The fancy duck was right about where the kiskadee, and later the tanager, would soon appear.

One week after the kiskadee's arrival, birders
 rushed back to Channahon to see this dazzling
western tanager. Photo by Matt Misewicz.
If birders didn’t know where Channahon was before, they certainly do now.

Joining the kiskadee as worthy Bird of the Year  candidates were a Townsend’s warbler at Deer Grove Forest Preserve in Cook County (found  in April by Heidi Tarasiuk); black-headed grosbeak in Woodstock (Oct.); and a golden-crowned sparrow in the Rockford backyard of Dan and Barbara Williams (Nov.). A front porch rufous hummingbird hosted by the Baier family in Lisle was yet another December treat.

Sightings of these rare birds, combined with flexible work schedules and low gas prices, created a perfect storm for bird chasers. In 2020, homebound enthusiasts needed few excuses to hit the highway.

Indeed, the pandemic changed how we bird. We wore face coverings, did less carpooling and tried our best to social distance on the trails.

Perhaps the biggest change brought about by the virus was more birders, especially backyard watchers. Many came to realize that feeding birds is a pleasant diversion. Keeping a yard list became a thing—a fun challenge for all ages and a solid remote learning activity. 

An evening grosbeak could visit your house
this winter, too! They usually travel in flocks.
Photo by Josh Engel/Red Hill Birding.
For newbies and veterans alike, at home and in the field, it was an extraordinary year to be a birder. Not only did we have more time for the hobby, there was a lot to see. Spring migration was sick with warblers, followed by an early summer yellow-billed cuckoo fest fueled by a major cicada hatch. Spotting or at least hearing a cuckoo was never easier.

Fall proved especially rich. In late October, reports of evening grosbeaks poured in throughout the region—almost unheard of in these parts. Just the thought of one landing on my sunflower feeder is exciting, and currently it’s a real possibility!

Other “winter finches” have invaded as well, namely common redpoll, pine siskin, red crossbill and white-winged crossbill. Red-breasted nuthatch is back, too. All are nomadic species from the north that don’t come around every year. This will be an entertaining winter.   

County highlights

Space limitations force me to pick and choose, but a county-by-county listing of notable bird sightings shows the remarkable avian diversity that Chicagoland birders encountered in 2020.

Two rufous hummingbirds—one in Lisle and this one in
Naperville—thrilled DuPage birders in early December.
Photo by Matt Misewicz.
DuPage: black-bellied whistling duck; cattle egret; cerulean, hooded, Kentucky, prairie, yellow-throated and worm-eating warblers; eared grebe; golden eagle; lark sparrow; neotropic cormorant; northern mockingbird; pileated woodpecker; red-shouldered hawk; rufous hummingbird; surf scoter; western tanager; whooping crane

Kane: American avocet; black-necked stilt; black scoter; black tern; Connecticut, Kirtland’s and prairie warblers; Eurasian tree sparrow; Hudsonian godwit; northern goshawk; red-necked phalarope; ruddy turnstone; Say’s phoebe; western kingbird; whip-poor-will

Cook: black-legged kittiwake; buff-breasted sandpiper; Cassin’s sparrow; Franklin’s gull; great-tailed grackle; harlequin duck; Harris’s sparrow; hoary redpoll; lark bunting; little gull; painted bunting; parasitic jaeger; piping plover (Monty and Rose returned to Montrose Beach, fledging three chicks!); purple gallinule; red knot; red-necked grebe; red-throated loon; Sabine’s gull; Say’s phoebe; snowy egret; snowy owl; Swainson’s hawk; Townsend’s warbler; varied thrush; western grebe; whimbrel; whip-poor-will; white-faced ibis

In October, a generous homeowner in Woodstock permitted
birders to view this black-headed grosbeak, a rare visitor
from the West. Photo by Matt Misewicz.
Lake: black-necked stilt; black vulture; buff-breasted sandpiper; harlequin duck; Kentucky warbler (in December!); loggerhead shrike; marbled godwit; Mississippi kite; purple sandpiper; scissor-tailed flycatcher; snowy owl

Will: black-bellied whistling duck; black-necked stilt; cattle egret; Eurasian wigeon; great kiskadee; Hudsonian godwit; western tanager; yellow-crowned night heron

McHenry: black-headed grosbeak; black tern; common gallinule; lark sparrow; red-necked phalarope

Finally, a shout-out to Kendall County, which produced a Townsend’s solitaire last January at Silver Springs State Park, the first rarity of 2020. Doesn’t that seem like five years ago?

When luck and skill collide

Congratulations to Isoo O’Brien for shattering the Big Year record for Cook County of 281 species. He did it with a common redpoll on October 30. The Evanston high school senior likens birding to a treasure hunt, and I couldn’t agree more.

Hundreds of birders with spring fever pursued this
Townsend's warbler in a Cook County forest preserve.
Photo by Scott Latimer.

The all-time Illinois Big Year record of 334 species also fell, but at press time it was unknown what the new record would be, and who would set it. Nathan Goldberg had 340 species with Steve Huggins just one bird behind. Their lists were identical except for the Geneva Kirtland’s warbler in May; Nathan got it, Steve did not.

Springbrook Prairie steward Joe Suchecki witnessed the first successful sandhill crane nesting at the Naperville preserve. He also registered species No. 240 at Springbrook when a flock of 22 evening grosbeaks flew over on November 6. Joe said he hadn’t seen evening grosbeaks in Illinois since 1996.

Illinois Ornithological Society made the most of a stay-at-home spring by holding a Backyard Big Day competition in April. Some 200 households from 34 counties participated. IOS followed up with a Big Sit tournament in September that raised $5,000 for bird-related causes.

Illinois Audubon Society purchased 40 acres within the Prairie Ridge State Natural Area in Jasper County, protecting additional habitat for greater prairie-chickens.

The 2020 Indiana Dunes Birding Festival was cancelled but still won the Mindful Birding Award for its devotion to ethical birding and bird conservation. The 2021 fest is on for May 13-16.

Birders had several opportunities in 2020 to witness
Hudsonian godwit, a rare shorebird. This one visited
 a small roadside "fluddle" in Will County, in late May.
Photo by Pat Andersen.
The grand opening of the International Crane Foundation’s updated campus in Baraboo, Wis., also was called off. They’ll try again on May 1, 2021.

Black birders matter

Rocky the owl made us smile. Another New Yorker made us cringe. You surely heard about the ugly incident in Central Park last May, when a white dogwalker confronted Black birdwatcher Christian Cooper, falsely accusing him of threatening violence. A video of the encounter attracted 30 million views.

It wasn’t about birding, of course, but it did create high-profile exposure for the hobby. Black Birders Week took flight in June, a first-time awareness campaign to encourage birding by people of color. 

Worth mentioning, too, is the “Bird Names for Birds” movement. The idea, now gaining momentum, is to assign new names to birds currently named after people. Some of the individuals, history shows, were racist in their actions and beliefs. Some were slave owners. In August, McCown’s longspur was officially reclassified as thick-billed longspur. Expect more such changes. About 150 North American birds are named for people.

Checking my notes

I’ll remember 2020 for many things but the sweetest memories involve birding. May 15 produced my finest day of backyard birding ever, with 47 species. One was a worm-eating warbler, only the second of my life! Northern waterthrush also joined my all-time yard list that day.  

Spotting a backyard “wormie” is hard to top, but finally getting my lifer Kentucky warbler was my best birding moment. A big assist goes to Joan Campbell for helping me find it at Greene Valley, where dozens of other birders enjoyed it, too. Kentucky’s are not usually so cooperative! I guess it was just my turn.

I read 33 books in 2020, the best one about birding being Kenn Kaufman’s “A Season on the Wind.” Two more goodies wait on my nightstand: Sibley’s latest, “What It’s Like to Be a Bird,” and Ted Floyd’s “How to Know the Birds.”

Best new beer? Piping Plover Pale Ale, of course, launched by Imperial Oak Brewing (Willow Springs) in August. I’m raising one now, in a toast. Here’s to 2020, a difficult year made better by exciting birds and fun birding adventures. And to a brighter year ahead. Maybe I’ll see you in Channahon.

Copyright 2020 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

 
Gracie McMahon, 2020 ABA 
Young Birder of the Year.
Photo by Kristine McMahon
Young birders who care

(published 11-4-20)

Those of us working through the COVID-19 era may be tiring of video conference calls. It’s easy to get Zoomed out, dreading the next “virtual” meeting.

But a Zoomer about birding? That’s different. I couldn’t wait to log on for the 2020 Illinois Young Birder Virtual Symposium.

The recent Saturday morning confab was time well spent and ended with a flourish as keynote speaker Kenn Kaufman addressed the kids and took their questions.

Kaufman tuned in for the entire symposium, listening to the presentations by some of our state’s top young birders and sharing his own perspectives in small doses. There is no bigger fan (and coach) of youth birding than Double K, one of the hobby’s rock stars.

The symposium is an annual gathering for Illinois Young Birders, a birding club for kids, teens and young adults ages 9 to 18. Administered by the Illinois Ornithological Society, ILYB aims to “foster and ignite a passion for birding among young people, provide community, promote conservation, investigate careers in birding, build positive relationships with other birding groups, and most of all to have fun!”

The fun part is easily achieved through monthly field trips to birding hotspots around the state, primarily in the Chicago region. Of course, ILYB members are usually birding somewhere every weekend. These kids eat, sleep and bird, and their field identification skills often surpass those of their elders.

Gracie McMahon's hand-painted bird rocks
served a conservation and public awareness
purpose in the Rockford area. 
The symposium showcased other skills, including sketching, painting and photography. A slideshow of member artwork and photos played to a soundtrack that included “Birding” by the Swet Shop Boys, a tune worthy of your investigation.

Earlier this year, one of the symposium participants, 14-year-old Gracie McMahon from Rockford, was named 2020 Young Birder of the Year by the American Birding Association. Her presentation to ILYB summarized her contest entry, including required elements focusing on conservation and community action.

In 2019, Gracie launched a public outreach project in which she hand-painted 52 rocks with different species of birds. Each rock was numbered, with a message on the back: “What bird is this?” along with sandbluff.org, the website of the Sand Bluff Bird Observatory, where Gracie volunteers.

Snowy Owl painting by Stephen Hurst
The rocks were placed throughout the Rockford area for random people to find. The finders could then go online to watch a video about their bird and receive an invitation to visit Sand Bluff. Gracie and other SBBO volunteers created a short video for all 52 birds.

“My project wasn’t for people who were already interested in birds,” Gracie said. “It was for people who knew nothing about them and weren’t aware that birds need our help. Hopefully now they are, and they will continue to expand the birding community.”

Other symposium presenters were Peter Tolzmann, speaking about the human impact on birds; John Fabrycky on birding in Israel; and Oliver Burrus sharing insights about data science and “machine learning.” Part of Oliver’s talk covered iNaturalist, a useful app for helping ID virtually any living thing.

Kaufman closed the event with an inspiring talk that reached beyond birding to show how everything in nature is connected. The kids were mesmerized, the way Little Leaguers would be if Anthony Rizzo showed up to their baseball practice. Everyone on the Zoom, it seemed, had read Kaufman’s “Kingbird Highway” at least once.

White-eyed Vireo by Simon Tolzman
“Birds unite us,” he said, and “Birds will lead you to everything else in nature.”

Kaufman reflected on growing up in Indiana and how, at age 6, he learned to put a name on the blackbirds grazing in his yard. They were common grackles and European starlings—not the most exciting “spark birds,” he admits, but they were enough. The challenge of finding other birds to identify hooked him on birding.

Not surprisingly, as a teen, Kaufman’s favorite book was “Wild America,” the classic bird-finding travelogue by Roger Tory Peterson and James Fisher, published in 1955. A few of the ILYB members had read it as well, which thoroughly impressed me.

Kaufman wrapped up his virtual visit with a call to action, encouraging everyone to share their knowledge and passion with others.

“We don’t have to make people into rabid birders,” he said. “If you can get them to care about birds, to have some interest, then they are likely to support bird conservation in the future. We need a lot more people like that.”

The message resonated but was hardly necessary. Not with this group. Young birders, the serious ones, are among the hobby’s best ambassadors. We need a lot more of them, too.

Visit illinoisyoungbirders.org to learn more and perhaps buy a membership ($10) for the future ornithologist in your life.

Copyright 2020 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

Yellow-headed blackbird, a declining species in DuPage, is among the
county’s most elusive species. Photo by Gary Sullivan/The Wetlands
Initiative

Bird finding made easier

Updated DuPage checklist of 268 birds shows best times of year for tracking them down

(Published 8-30-20)

I’ve gushed before about the wonderful simplicity of birding, how all you need is a pair of binoculars and a field guide. Today I’m recommending a third item, the regional checklist.

I don’t mean a list of species with check boxes. Picture instead a list that offers a rating for every regularly occurring local bird in every season, based on abundance—information that tells you what to expect, and what to look for, when birding.

Abundance or frequency ratings aid identification, too. When you’re unsure about a bird, a good checklist can help narrow the choices.

If you think you saw a yellow-bellied sapsucker in July, you probably didn’t. Not around here. A checklist tells you that.

The sixth edition of “Checklist of the Birds of DuPage County” is hot off the press, compiled by Denis Kania and published by the DuPage Birding Club (DBC). You can download a copy at dupagebirding.org.

Capturing the story of DuPage County’s birdlife is “an ever-moving target,” Kania said, who created the first DuPage checklist in 1989, the bird club’s fourth year. He was inspired by the helpful checklists he acquired during travels to national parks, nature preserves and other highly birded places.Pardon the cliché, but this checklist truly is “new and improved”—the first update in 10 years. The list of birds has changed along with many of the ratings.

“When I’d return from a trip, I often wondered why I didn’t have this same information close to home.”

Naperville resident Denis Kania is president of the DuPage
Birding Club. He teaches birding classes at The Morton
Arboretum and organizes international birding tours for
Field Guides, Inc. Photo by Diann Bilderback
 

Developing the initial checklist was extra challenging. As a novice birder, Kania relied heavily on local experts, written field notes and educated guesses. The eBird online reporting tool, a data gold mine and indispensable for compiling the sixth edition, was still 13 years away.

Bird checklists sometimes have four columns, one for each season. But like colors on a painted bunting, more is better.

“I always felt that four columns weren’t specific enough,” Kania explained. “In terms of birding, think about how different March is from May, or how different September is from November.”

The solution was to split spring, summer and fall into two periods each, assigning dates that reflect major shifts in bird populations. For example, “early spring” is March 1 to April 15; “late spring” is April 16 to June 5. “Post Breeding,” from July 6 to Aug. 15, is represented as a season, too.

Each bird receives a seasonal rating: A (Abundant); C (Common); F (Fairly Common); U (Uncommon); R (Rare); or X (Extremely Rare). A species may have different or repeating ratings across the seven “seasons,” or no rating at all, meaning the bird is not present. An eighth column indicates if the bird breeds in DuPage.

Our state bird, northern cardinal, rates a C across the board. It’s easy to find and doesn’t migrate. But most species are not so consistent; their numbers vary a little or a lot throughout the year.

Green heron, for example, a migrant, rates an X in early spring and F in late spring. Timing is everything.

The checklist contains 268 species, so a bird by bird update is no simple task.

“Establishing the ratings requires some history but I also try to predict how bird populations will change in the future,” Kania said.

I asked him what’s new about the sixth edition. The news is mixed.

Previously rated “accidental” in DuPage, blue grosbeak
now breeds in the county. Morton Arboretum is a good
 place to look for it. Photo by Jackie Bowman
“It’s disappointing to see some birds fall off the list or to see their abundance ratings on a downward slide. That is balanced by some species being seen more frequently and some moving off the accidental list, like pileated woodpecker and blue grosbeak—both are breeding species in the county now.

“We’ve also seen an increase in breeding attempts by osprey and sandhill crane, both making dramatic changes for the better. Bald eagle is another big breeding surprise over the last few years.”

Species dropped from the checklist include upland sandpiper, common tern and evening grosbeak; they are no longer seen often enough in DuPage to warrant inclusion. Among species still on the list but declining and rare in the county are sanderling, loggerhead shrike and yellow-headed blackbird. When the checklist is next updated in 2028 these birds may be gone from our landscape.

For additional details about the checklist and bird trends in DuPage County, check out Kania’s YouTube video on the topic, accessible from DBC’s recently upgraded website, dupagebirding.org.

Kania, club president through 2020, has made the most of his pandemic downtime. Besides updating the checklist, he launched a growing series of YouTube tutorials focused on bird identification, also on the club website.

If you go there, be sure to check out yet another excellent new resource, Birding Hotspots—profiles of the top places for birdwatching in DuPage County, contributed by the local birders who know them best.

Copyright 2020 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

Prairie Warbler by Jackie Bowman
Three sticky warblers

A trio of hard-to-find species cooperated nicely for area birders, including me.

(published 7-9-20)

On occasions when I simply must see a rock pigeon I know where to go. A small flock hangs out on the utility wires outside the Glen Ellyn McDonald’s on Roosevelt Road. They are what I call sticky birds, loyal to a site. Pigeons have a reliable weakness for parking lot French fries.

The Chicago region, of course, is a permanent or part-time home to more exciting birds. Many are uncommon, even rare. But seeing the rarities can be a challenge—they are often “one-day wonders,” observed by a lucky birder or maybe a small group in the right place at the right time.

Birders like me depend on stickiness. I am rarely among the first people on the scene after a rare bird is spotted and then reported online. Unless it’s an ivory-billed woodpecker, I’m inclined to try for a look after the bird is reported several days in a row. I like to know the odds of success are really good.

This laid-back style of birding, of course, can backfire. I’ve missed some rare birds from being late to the party. Not recently though. In the last six weeks, I’ve followed in many a birder’s wake to enjoy fine views of three coveted warbler species. All three birds were sticky indeed—just where the reports said they would be and in no apparent hurry to leave. Birders call them “continuing” birds.

Checking off Kentucky, mourning and prairie warblers shouldn’t be this easy. For sure, I’m indebted to the original finders of these yellow-bellied beauties and to the many birders who posted their sightings in the days that followed. Thanks!

Kentucky Warbler by Todd Fellenbaum

The Kentucky warbler, as I related here last month, was a lifer for me. Mike Madsen found it at Greene Valley Forest Preserve (Naperville) on May 23. I went there on May 25 and by then dozens of birders had eyed the bird, a singing male. The Kentucky’s churry-churry-churry song is loud and distinct, making this one easy to locate. 

Having a guide helped, too. Joan Campbell texted me from the woods, urging me to get my butt in gear for a chance to confront my long-time nemesis. Twelve minutes later I was heading south on Route 53. 

Once on site, I expected more of a struggle. Kentucky warbler is usually secretive and hard to view. You might hear it but seeing it can be iffy. The Greene Valley bird, however, was moving from branch to branch, teasing us with occasional open looks. I could not have been happier.

A reported mourning warbler at Lyman Woods in Downers Grove grabbed my attention next. Here was another elusive species apparently outfitted with a tiny pair of molasses slippers. Discovered by Graham Deese on June 5, the bird was sheltering in place.

Mourning Warbler by Philip Dunn

Joan agreed to meet me at Lyman, her home patch, on June 10. She’s a bird monitor at the preserve and leads walks there for the DuPage Birding Club. She’d already seen the warbler and took me directly to it. Easy peasy, and my best look ever of a species I’d last seen in 2003. (I might need to get out more.)

My luck continued on July 1 with a prairie warbler—fittingly, along the Prairie Path at West Chicago Prairie Forest Preserve. Matt Wistrand found the bird on June 25 as he was biking by, alertly detecting its high-pitched buzzy trill. Acting like a male bird on territory, it stayed put long enough to be my first prairie warbler outside of Florida.




My inaugural visit to West Chicago Prairie was fruitful in another way. A singing yellow-breasted chat—yet another sought-after warbler—greeted my arrival, posing on a bare tree in the early morning sun. (Picture perfect, except my camera was in the car.) Chats breed on the preserve and this might be the best place in DuPage to find one.

Yellow-breasted Chat by Jackie Bowman

So, there it is, three successful sorties around DuPage and not a wasted minute or mile. Target birding at its best! It shows that sometimes it’s okay to be late—with good information, and perhaps a little help from a friend, you can still get the bird. 

To track notable bird sightings, consider using eBird, a free service of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.  Sign up at ebird.org to receive a daily list of uncommon or rare birds for any state or county in the United States. I get the Illinois and DuPage reports.

Copyright 2020 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.

A great-crested flycatcher was among 47 bird species spotted in or from the
author’s yard on May 15, a day when birders throughout the region enjoyed
 fallout conditions. Photo by Jackie Bowman.
Freaky Friday fallout

(published 6-23-20)

Almost three inches of hard rain can make a mess of a newly mulched landscape. I saw this when stepping into my backyard on May 15. But mulch wasn’t the only thing that migrated during the night. The yard was messy with warblers, too.

You could feel it. Something special was happening—in my yard, on my block and throughout the entire region, I’d find out later. The heavy storms had triggered an avian fallout.

Cleaning up the lawn could wait. I’d been waiting for this all spring. Stay at home order? No problem!

The first big surprise was a northern waterthrush, a streaky, ground-loving member of the warbler family. My little patch of Glen Ellyn offers nothing this bird typically prefers. In the prime of spring migration, however, almost anything is possible.

The waterthrush joined my all-time yard list as species No. 119.

Flashier warblers were all around: Blackburnian, chestnut-sided, bay-breasted, pine, Cape May and American redstart. Baltimore orioles and rose-breasted grosbeaks at the feeders would be all-day companions.

An ovenbird joined the party, another terrestrial warbler named for its Dutch oven-shaped nest. It walks like a miniature chicken. A great-crested flycatcher called “wheep!” from above as a yellow-throated vireo foraged nearby. Higher still, chimney swifts glided on stiff wings, adding their chittering notes to the morning’s natural soundtrack. (Conditions were far too wet, fortunately, for the neighborhood landscape crews to power up their lawn mowers and leaf blowers.)

A nice thrush triple-crown featured gray-cheeked, Swainson’s and veery. Robins are thrushes, too, so make that a grand slam.

At least 30 birders witnessed this worm-eating warbler at Elsen’s Hill in
Winfield. The species, while not colorful, is a rare visitor to northern Illinois.
Photo by Andrew Steinmann
The sparrow family, not to be unrepresented, contributed a Lincoln’s—by no means a bird I see every year in the yard. What else would drop from the sky?

At 9 a.m. my heart almost stopped when a worm-eating warbler appeared in the lilac bush—only the second one I’d ever seen. No. 120!

Sharing my backyard “wormie” with friends would have added to the experience. It’s a coveted, hard-to-find species in northern Illinois. Alas, in a few minutes my special visitor moved on.

Thrill-seeking birders willing to leave home did have a chance to see a worm-eating warbler at two locations on May 3: Elsen’s Hill, part of the West DuPage Woods Forest Preserve in Winfield; and Les Arends Forest Preserve in Batavia.  

A couple of even rarer warblers made appearances this spring. Townsend’s warbler, a western species, turned up at Deer Grove Forest Preserve in Cook County on April 16, discovered by Heidi Tarasiuk. The bird stayed for 10 days, enabling dozens of watchers to extend their life lists.

On May 18, a Kirtland’s warbler surprised a birding group at Bennett Park in Geneva. Reported by Bob Andrini, possibly the first Kirtland’s ever found in Kane County.   

Scattered reports of cerulean, Connecticut, hooded, Kentucky and yellow-throated warblers also kept local birders on the go—with proper social distancing, of course.
In late May, with spring migration winding down, watchers enjoyed a singing
male Kentucky warbler at Greene Valley Forest Preserve in Naperville.
Photo by Matthew Studebaker
The Kentucky warbler at Greene Valley Forest Preserve (Naperville) on May 24 was my lifer, ending a long quest filled with rotten luck and near misses. Mike Madsen made the initial find but it was Joan Campbell who alerted me to the opportunity. I owe her a nice bottle of wine.

Mostly I stayed home this spring, watching my backyard like a hungry Cooper’s hawk. In fact, if not for COVID-19, I’d have been at work on that Freaky Friday fallout and missed a lot of the show. It was not a morning-only phenomenon; warblers and other newly arrived migrants were hopping around in the trees all day.

By sunset I’d counted 47 species, six more than my previous one-day best. Fifteen of the 47 were warblers, two of which were first-time visitors during my running yard watch of 23 years.

Coincidentally, I’d agreed to do a Zoom interview that day with Naperville Community Television, for a story on backyard birding during the pandemic. At noon, I calmed down enough to speak with the reporter, Aysha Househ, who asked, “What do you like most about birdwatching?”

Good question! I could have answered it 10 different ways but with that worm-eating warbler fresh on my mind I talked about the surprises that birding brings, and how you never know what might pop into view. Every day, there’s always the chance of seeing something remarkable. Even in your backyard.

Copyright 2020 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Scarlet Tanager, male, by Linda Petersen
Songbird sirens

(published 5-4-20)

 Ask people why they watch birds and you’ll get all kinds of answers. A common one is that birds are beautiful. Nice to look at. Colorful.

Those who feel this way are in luck. This month, pandemic or not, is spring migration’s prime time. Some of bird world’s brightest beacons have just arrived. They’re here and available for viewing—potentially, right in our own backyards.

Here are five feathered flamethrowers to watch for in May:

Scarlet Tanager
I love being close by when somebody sees this bird for the first time. Then I help them pick up their jaw. The male scarlet tanager is shockingly beautiful and is surely a “spark bird” for many new birders. Even for veteran watchers, the first spring sighting of a tanager is a moment to savor.

Tanagers we see in May spent the winter in South America, and some will nest here. But this is a forest-loving species that can be hard to spot during the breeding season. They are easiest to see when they first arrive—before they choose a mate and before the trees get too leafy.

Tanagers are not feeder birds, so watch for them in the upper levels of deciduous trees, foraging for insects. Oaks are a favorite.

For this bird and the others here, knowing calls and songs is an advantage. To hear them, visit All About Birds, a Cornell Lab of Ornithology website.

American Goldfinch
Here’s one that will visit feeders, thistle preferred. In fact, you might have hosted American goldfinches all winter long, when they looked nothing like they do now. In May, the males are in full breeding plumage. If you favor eye-popping yellow and admire vegetarians, this is your bird!
American Goldfinch, male, by Christian Goers
Goldfinches are strictly seed eaters, never insects, which explains how they can survive winters around here. But the species is migratory. Most of the individuals we see now traveled from the southern U.S. or northern Mexico.

Goldfinches possess some notable quirks. Their flight is undulating, like a roller coaster, and they say “potato chip” as they fly. Their tiny cup-shaped nests are often affixed to the ends of branches, even when this places their home directly above a roadway. That’s living on the edge!

Baltimore Oriole
As noted in my last column, this striking member of the blackbird family hankers for oranges and grape jelly. It might even try to sip from your hummingbird feeder.

Baltimore Oriole, male, by Linda Petersen
Baltimore oriole is the state bird of Maryland, naturally, and is named after Lord Baltimore, whose coat of arms featured orange and black. As a baseball fan, this species reminds me of Brooks Robinson and Cal Ripken every time I see it.

I also think about this bird’s nest, an architectural wonder. The hanging basket, about six inches deep, is woven together with plant fibers and grasses. I read that one oriole spent 40 hours on the project! The nest is durable, too. On fall and winter bird walks we sometimes see the vacant pouches swaying in the breeze, usually at the ends of wispy limbs in cottonwood or willow trees.

Indigo Bunting
This is the only all-blue species common to our region. Indigo buntings arrive here from Central America, raise their families and start heading south in August.

Indigo Bunting, male, by Jackie Bowman
When the sun hits a male indigo just right, the look is electric. Yet, from a different angle, this bird may appear blackish. Fortunately, we can usually get a good view of this guy, thanks to its birder-friendly habit of perching in the open and singing persistently.

Indigos prefer brushy forest edges, roadsides and weedy fields. They occasionally visit backyard feeders but locating this bird will be easier in edge habitat at a park or forest preserve.

Blackburnian Warbler
This is your challenge bird—the hardest to observe in this five-pack of avian hotties. Unlike the previous four species, Blackburnian warblers are just passing through, on their way to nesting grounds in the North Woods.

The bird is named after Anna Blackburn, an English patron of ornithology in the 1700s. I wonder if she wore a fluorescent orange scarf. That would describe the throat of a male Blackburnian, the signature field mark of this beloved warbler.


Blackburnian Warbler, male, by Christian Goers
The flaming throat and upper breast is handy for spotting this bird, since you’ll probably be looking straight up to find it. It prefers the canopy of tall trees and like most warblers is constantly moving. I usually see a Blackburnian or two every year from my back patio, high in my neighbor’s massive locust.

The special colors of spring migration are not limited to a few birds, of course. The warbler family alone—about 25 species are possible this month—is spectacular. Consider this column a starter kit.

Remember to be alert for subtle beauty, too. Taken a long look at a female cardinal, lately? All birds are worth watching.

Happy birding this month, the most colorful time of year. Even from home there is plenty to see and appreciate.

Copyright 2020 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)