Anna's Hummingbird in Ohio

 

A subadult male Anna's Hummingbird (Calypte anna) strikes a pose. The bird has been present for about a week in and around the yard of Gerry and John Brevoort, in a north Columbus neighborhood. Two Ruby-throated Hummingbirds have also been hanging around. When Gerry noticed this bird, she didn't think it looked right for a ruby-throat. Its identity was parsed out and word came down last Monday. I could not make it until today - even though it is only about a 12-minute drive - but there were no worries. The hummer is still in residence, and it may stay for some time. This is the third Ohio record of this species, and the other two stayed for over a month.

Anna's Hummingbird is quite hardy and breeds as far north as southern British Columbia. Some hummers routinely venture to southeastern Alaska. The primary breeding range is California - and that state was the traditional core range for this species - but Anna's Hummingbird has been actively expanding its range for the last 60 years. It now nests on Oregon and Washington and has expanded eastward into Arizona and probably has bred/breeds in Nevada and Texas.

The reasons for the expansion involve widespread plantings of suitable nectar source plants, and the proliferation of hummingbird feeders. Anna's Hummingbird appears to be highly adaptable and quick to utilize new opportunities.

The Anna's Hummingbird between sips of sugar water at one of the Brevoort's feeders. This young male's colorful gorget feathers are coming in, and before too long the bird's throat and crown will be shingled in dazzling purplish-red feathered scales.

Anna's Hummingbird, perhaps surprisingly, is a short-distance migrant and what migrations do occur are confusing. Some individuals/populations don't migrate at all, while others move north, up to higher elevations, or relatively short distances in any direction. Much remains to be learned about Anna's Hummingbird migration.

I've occasionally spoken my mind about the use of the term "vagrants" when applied to birds (or perhaps most winged organisms). While there truly are vagrants, such as hurricane-blown birds far off course, and others assisted by similar dramatic weather events, and perhaps the rare individual who loses control of its internal GPS, I don't think in many instances the vagrant term is proper.

Vagrancy implies a haphazard wandering, and I don't think that's what is going on, at least in many cases involving birds. Rather, these out of the normal range individuals (often first-year birds) might be thought of as "scouts". Perhaps a tiny percentage of populations of highly mobile birds are in effect pre-programmed to wander far from their core range. How else would a species discover new fertile territory and expand its range? While most of these out-of-range birds will not locate prime new territory and will either perish or perhaps with luck make it back "home", over the long haul suitable new turf will be discovered and conquered and the range will expand.

There are now Anna's Hummingbird records from nearly every state, all of the way to the eastern seaboard. Also, the southern reaches of most eastern Canadian provinces. The long-haul record belongs to an Anna's Hummingbird that appeared near St. John's, Newfoundland on January 19, 2011, and stayed for about three weeks. That's as far east as one can go in eastern North America and not a particularly hospitable place, weatherwise, in the dead of winter.

It'll be interesting to see how the expansion of the adaptable Anna's Hummingbird goes. I suspect the influx of out-of-range birds will continue, and the breeding range will continue its eastward creep.

Thanks again to the Brevoorts for making scores of people welcome, and for bringing this Anna's Hummingbird to light.

Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks nest again in Ohio, producing scads of chicks

 

This rather innocuous-looking place was our destination last Sunday, October 20, 2024, and it's a spot I had been hoping to visit for a few months. Better late than never, and in this case, late was probably better.

Shauna and I packed the gear and drove the hour and a half to Ohio State University's sprawling Ohio Agricultural Research and Development Center campus near Wooster, in Wayne County, Ohio. The locale in the photo is perhaps most noteworthy for its string of six little ponds. Parts of two of those are visible in the photo. This is where the latest crop of nesting Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks (Dendrocygna autumnalis) has been hanging out.

This tropical duck was first found nesting in Ohio just a few miles from this spot, in 2022. I wrote about that RIGHT HERE.

While I knew finding and seeing the large "tree ducks" would not be difficult, in this case it was ridiculously easy. We pulled into the site, and before even getting out of the vehicle I heard the squeaky peeping whistles of the whistling-ducks. A glance in the direction of the pond revealed the extended head of an adult, peeking up and over the embankment. It didn't long to walk into a good position and start getting shots of the beautiful fowl. Here, two adults with pink bills bookend three dusky-billed juveniles.

But wait! There were more! It didn't take long to realize that the pack had expanded from the eBird reports I had recently seen, which listed 10 juveniles and two adults. In total, we saw 19 juveniles and six adults. We arrived right around sunrise, and the ducks were still resting on the banks of one of the small ponds, in three discrete pods, each with two adults. It would appear that three pairs of whistling-ducks bred somewhere locally, and then merged the troops here after the young became flighted. As we were leaving, Jethro Raber, an ace local birder who has been keeping tabs on the ducks, told us that the assemblage of this big pack was a recent event, just a day or two prior to our visit if I recall correctly.

As always, you can click the image to enlarge and if you do with the photo above, you'll see the frosty rime on the grass. It was in the low 30's F the prior night, and nighttime temps have been getting consistently frosty. I suspect these Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks will not hang around much longer.

As the sun warmed the earth, and the birds, they began foraging and moving around. We saw them skimming lesser duckweed (Lemna minor) from the pond's surface and plucking at other plants. While they didn't venture far, some short flights were made, and we saw all 25 birds flying and flying well. The juveniles will soon be ready for their southward journey, if they aren't already. A juvenile stretches its long wings in the image above, and shares space with four other young birds. An adult is to the far right.

An adult whistling-duck strikes a pose. It is atop a long linear pile of who knows what. I suspect the material is a mixture of manure and other offal of farming operations, but I really have no idea. There was something in there that pleased the ducks, though, and they avidly rooted about in the stuff. Perhaps corn kernels or other edible plant matter.

Once the ducks became active, they wasted little time in heading to these piles and remained on and around them the rest of the time that we were there. I wonder if this stuff, whatever it may be (and if you know, please leave a comment) is what made them fixate on this particular site.

A juvenile strikes a subservient posture before an adult. It was great fun observing the interactions and dynamics of these charismatic birds. While highly social, there are pecking orders and squabbles to establish them. Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks can be incredibly tame, and these birds weren't exactly shrinking violets. Nonetheless, we maintained a good distance from them which allows for better opportunities to observe natural interactions while avoiding the possibility of spooking/flushing the birds. There's no reason to do that, in this situation especially.

It seems that we are seeing the genesis of a breeding population of Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks develop before our eyes. From one pair three years ago, that produced (if memory serves) four surviving chicks, to the current crop of three apparent broods and 19 chicks. All of the last three year's nestings were within a few miles of each other. It'll be interesting to see if and how the Wayne County population continues its expansion, and if and where other future breeding records occur. I don't know offhand the exact number of Black-bellied Whistling-Duck records in Ohio, but since the first report in 2004, there have probably been a few dozen. It seems likely that other vagrant (if we can still call them that) whistling-ducks will remain to breed elsewhere in the state.

A very cool moth

 

On July 28 of this year, I did some backyard mothing - something that I should do more of here, as I usually get cool bugs. And who doesn't like cool bugs. This uber-cool bug is a Lesser Grapevine Looper (Eulithis diversilineata), a moth that arches its abdomen up and over until it points at its snout. While conspicuous on a white shed wall, this bizarre posture may serve it well as disruptive camouflage when hiding in vegetated haunts. Its caterpillars feed on grape and Virginia creeper and I've got plenty of that. Worthington, Ohio.

Shale-barren Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium), white-flowered form

 

As always, click the photo to enlarge

Last Saturday, Shauna had to give a program on Bobcats to a group at the Arc of Appalachia's Highland Nature Sanctuary and following that we headed down to Lynx Prairie in Adams County to drum up some late-season flora. One species that was high on my list to photograph was Shale-barren Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium). It is in peak bloom in early to mid-October, and we soon found ourselves admiring this large colony.

Shale-barren Aster is well-named, as can be seen from this image. It favors dry, rocky ground, and in Ohio often occurs on slopes like this. The plant is rhizomatous and can form sizable colonies. But in our state, it's a rarity and is listed as threatened by ODNR. Shale-barren Aster barely gets into southern Ohio and is known from only three-four counties and Adams County hosts most of the populations.

Here's the typical flowers of Shale-barren Aster. The rays are a showy pale purplish color, offset by bright yellow disk flowers.

PHOTO NOTE: Sometimes, to better isolate plants in crowded environments, I place a piece of black velvet behind the subject. That's what was done here. It also allows me to use a smaller aperture without penalty of creating a distracting image with lots of background clutter confusing the issue. This image was made at f/16, 1/125 second, and ISO 800. The only reason that the ISO was so high was due to breezy conditions and possible subject movement, but since very little cropping was required and the Canon R5 handles higher ISO settings well, it's not a problem. The lens was the stellar Canon 100mm f/2.8L macro.

As we walked towards the main colony, Shauna drew my attention to a white-flowered aster. Wow! It was an odd plant of Shale-barren Aster with snowy-white flowers! I had never seen, nor heard of such a thing. There were only three specimens, fairly close together and I suppose they could have essentially been the same plant, interconnected by rhizomes. This image shows the distinctive herbage, with alternate slightly clasping oblong leaves.

Here's a closeup of a flowering head. Not even a tinge of pink, purple or rose in those rays.

I've scouted about a bit and cannot find any references to white-flowered forms of Symphyotrichum oblongifolium. That's not to say it doesn't occur elsewhere, because anomalous white flowers regularly turn up in flowers that are ordinarily other colors. But it must not be common, or botanical manuals would mention it, and someone probably would have described it as a named form. The great botanist Merrit Fernald was big on noting variations such as this, yet his 1950 Gray's Manual of Botany makes no mention of white-flowered variants of Shale-barren Aster. He does note a forma roseoligulatus, which has rosy-colored rays. That, however, would be far more subtle and probably often insensibly grading into typical flower colors.

It will be interesting to see if these plants persist and expand, or eventually vanish.

NOTE: In botany, the equivalent of a subspecies in animals is termed a variety. Varieties are typically stable and distinctive variants but do not rise to the level of a species and are clearly closely related to the nominate, or typical variety. An example involving another aster would be Purple Swamp Aster (Symphyotrichum puniceum). It was long split into "subspecies": Symphyotrichum puniceum variety puniceum (the nominate, or typical, subspecies) and S. puniceum var. firmus. As sometimes happens, these two varieties were later shown to be distinct, and both are considered separate species now. Forms do not rise to that level and are minor variants. In the case of Purple Swamp Aster, two forms have been described, Symphyotrichum puniceum forma etiamalbus with white flowers, and forma rufescens with reddish flowers. These forms only different in flower color, thus are minor variations, and possibly best treated as occasional anomalies, not stable characters of the species, hence the forma designation. That's undoubtedly the case with the white-flowered Shale-barren Aster that we found.

Alder and Willow flycatchers, side by side

Back in early June, Shauna and I traveled to rural western New York, to attend the Allegany Nature Pilgrimage. It's quite the event, with hundreds of attendees, scores of field trips and other activities, and lots of speakers. I was there in the latter capacity, speaking about - what else, this year - moths.

The Pilgrimage takes place in a beautiful region with lots of interesting places nearby, so we took the opportunity to tack on a few days and visit some new sites. We saw lots of flora and fauna, managed to eke out some decent imagery, and learned lots about various things. One of the more interesting avian experiences for me was stumbling into a large shrubland that was occupied by both Alder Flycatchers (Empidonax alnorum) and Willow Flycatchers (E. traillii), in about equal numbers.

This vast shrub-dominated meadow is in Iroquois National Wildlife Refuge, about 40 miles northeast of Buffalo, New York. We were slowly cruising by when I heard the song of an Alder Flycatcher. As this is a species that I am very much smitten with, we quickly pulled over and got out to better assess the situation. To my surprise I soon heard a Willow Flycatcher, then another Alder, another Willow, and so on.

This site is near the southern overlap of these species' ranges, and maybe shrublands full of both species isn't that unusual in this zone, but I had never seen it. Where I live, in central Ohio, Willow Flycatcher is the common species, and Alders only occur sparingly in northernmost Ohio, especially in the northeast corner which has the most boreal-ish habitat. But I've spent scads of time in the north country, such as the northern tip of Michigan's Lower Peninsula and the Upper Peninsula, where Alder Flycatcher is very common, and I know it well.

Alder and Willow flycatchers were considered conspecific until 1973, although the differences between the two were noticed long before, perhaps most notably by Roger Tory Peterson. Much of the differentiation is in vocalizations, and habitat. They are well-named birds, as Willows typically occupy areas with some willow (genus Salix). Alders prefer, duh, alders (genus Alnus) and thus are typically found in wetter sites as that's where alder thickets thrive. But good luck identifying a silent bird in migration. If it issues a few distinctive call notes, you might nail it, but otherwise it'll have to go down as "Empidonax sp. Even birds in the hand, with measurements possible, cannot always be separated (ever?).

A male Alder Flycatcher in the Iroquois meadow in the first photo. Its singing perch was a willow. Indeed, we could not find any alders in this damp meadow, just willow of several species.

Here is a nearby male Willow Flycatcher, also teed up in a willow singing perch. We walked around much of this roughly 20-acre site and spent much time listening to and watching the flycatchers. In all, we counted 5-6 singing Alders and 4-5 singing Willows. The birds seemed to have marked out well-established territories, and we saw no interactions between the species. It certainly was a great site to hear both of these look-alikes singing side by side.

A brief, greatly compressed video of one of the singing Alder Flycatchers. Sorry, my learning curve with video processing is not very advanced, but you should be able to hear its distinctive song well. It is a burry ascending Free-beer! or Fe-bee-oh!

I was going to post a singing Willow Flycatcher video that was nearby the Alder above, but now my video "editor" is giving me fits and I can't make it work. I'll try to correct this and post it later. Its song is a quite different sneezy Fitz-bew! With some practice and experience, separating these species by song is normally not difficult. Even the call notes are mostly distinctive, especially the dry whit whit calls of Willows and the more robust pip pip notes of Alders. In fact, the latter species reminds me of a miniature Olive-sided Flycatcher as some of its calls suggest that species, and the territorial males seem more pugnacious and prone to singing from exposed perches.

There apparently is no concrete evidence of hybridization between these very similar species, even though they are extremely similar genetically, much more so than most avian species pairings. Our observations in this mixed meadow, the type of site one might think that hybridization might occur if it indeed does happen, indicated that the two species maintained well-defined territories and did not interact much.

Brown-headed Nuthatch

 

I've been playing catch-up with photo labeling and archival - note to self: do not fall behind on this. Anyway, one positive is revisiting many cool sites and lots of interesting flora and fauna. This is one of the world's cutest birds, the Brown-headed Nuthatch (Sitta pusilla). The elfin weighs maybe 10-11 grams, and barely exceeds 4 inches in length. For comparison, the White-breasted Nuthatch is 20 g and 5.5 inches - a comparative giant. BHN's are obligatory pine residents and small troupes of them make a gentle cacophony as cute as the birds: it sounds like a dozen kittens are in the limbs, playing with squeak toys. Hickory, North Carolina, January 1, 2024.