Hey Folks,

You know you’ve neglected your blog when you speak of enjoying the peak of the Spring shorebird migration and in your next entry the things are already coming back. Yeesh.

I'm in Algonquin Provincial Park in Central Ontario for another surely interesting Summer, so my postings should become more or less regular now that I'm actually living in one place and getting a steady income.

Before I came up to the Park, however, Kyle Holloway and I journeyed into the Midwest for some birding before I disappeared. We went to Rainy River - Ontario's west end, and some parts of Minnesota as well as the lower peninsula of Michigan.

The bird I had most wanted to see lived in the latter locale almost exclusively. It is a bird much revered by North American birdwatchers and foreign birders as well. It was a Wood-Warbler, a very habitat-choosy wood-warbler, that only breeds in select Jack Pine stands 16-20 years of age. The bird in question is the lovely Kirtland’s Warbler.

These birds show up at Point Pelee every now and again (whenever I’m not around) and they do breed in Ontario (in an inaccessible locale) but if you don’t have many days or someone who knows where they are in Wisconsin, there is only one place on Earth you can see this bird in the breeding season, and that is in Michigan.

Why? Jack Pine forests are meticulously managed by the Michigan DNR every year to suit the warbler’s choosy lifestyle. If the stand becomes so tall as the branches of the tree do not touch the ground (to use as shelter for the ground-nesting bird that the warbler is), the birds abandon them.

You then wonder how these things survived before we helped them out… the answer to that question is a phenomenon that is now frowned upon and is seen as a danger to most everything that lives in and around the forest – forest fires. Smoky the Bear evidently had some sort of grudge against Kirtland’s Warblers.

Long ago, fires were frequent throughout Jack Pine stands in the Upper Midwest, and frequently would burn huge stands down to the ground, from which they’d eventually grow into prime Kirtland’s habitat. There’d be enough fires every year for there to be Kirtland’s habitat available somewhere within the range of the bird. Of course when these same fires burned down human habitations and killed people, they were suppressed big time. Without fires, there are no young Jack Pine stands, and without those, there are no Kirtland’s Warblers.

So, the bird’s population plummeted and in the first annual survey for the bird in 1971, there were only 200 singing males. The last Kirtland’s on Earth. It didn’t help that the clearing of land for logging allowed the parasitic Brown-headed Cowbird to venture into Kirtland’s habitat and parasitize their nests. The warblers did not have any sort of evolutionary protection against this onslaught, and the birds that did pair and breed more often than not ended up raising cowbird young.

Luckily, it is relatively easy to manage Kirtland’s habitat and the Michigan DNR now maintains 36’000-40’000 acres of Kirtland’s habitat. They also trap and euthanize cowbirds in these stands, something that has helped the warbler numbers rebound amazingly. Once the trees get too big, they are logged and replanted by hand.

Kyle and I ventured into one of these plots of land and were not disappointed.

Indeed, the birds loud, melodious song was heard from every which way in the stand. It was, in fact, the most common birdsong to be heard. But, surprising as it may be in this barren habitat, not the only one. Upland Sandpipers wolf-whistled from the sandy barrens. Eastern Bluebirds were attending a nest in an older, dead tree. Several different species of sparrows sung their songs from within the pines. But for me, Kirtland’s still stole the show.

For one reason or another, the bird is foolishly tame. I walked up to within four feet of a singing male and he didn’t even flinch – in fact, he continued singing, threatening my hearing ability in a way that made my ears ring for the next few hours.

It was surprising that, while the bird needed Jack Pine in order to survive, the amount of time that males spent in the actual tree was minimal. They seemed to much prefer the taller Black Oaks, undoubtedly for singing purposes, rather than the small, spindly pines. One male sung from a hydro wire that went through the habitat. 

We walked for about a kilometer into the stand on a little sandy trail, from which we heard no less than 25 birds. They really do thrive big-time in suitable habitat, which is surprisingly easy (notwithstanding the labour costs) to manage for. It can be said now, safely I think, that Kirtland’s Warbler is an easy bird to see in Michigan, and many yearning ears and eyes can now see and hear the bird of the flames singing away in its piney realm. It is quite amazing what we can accomplish if we really try. 

Efforts to increase conservation of this bird by partnering up Michigan DNR (who obviously know what they’re doing) with conservation authorities in the Bahamas (where the bird chiefly winters) and also with conservation authorities in Ontario (which lacks a management plan for the bird) and Wisconsin (I don’t know much about the bird there) will hopefully continue to ensure the bird’s success in North America.

Well, readers, my little bakery stint is complete and I’m out in the world, looking for birds once more. Of course, during my inability to go birding, the weather was beautiful. Now, there’s 5 cm of snow over here in Maple, ON and it’s still going pretty good. Of course.

I was in Algonquin for a little bit on Monday. I wasn’t planning to do any birding, and the horrific weather re-enforced that idea...and enabled my low-clearance city vehicle to get stuck in the middle of Highway 60. Twice. This made me late for my appointment in the Park. Ever had one of those days?

Having that postponed, I had some time to sit and observe the Visitor Centre feeders.  There was a recent snowfall and several redpolls were busy bulking up. Redpolls are an intriguing bunch of birds, small finches that come from various Northern latitudes to grace feeders in Southern Ontario just for the winter season. In a few weeks, these were to leave for their breeding grounds, so I thought I’d enjoy them for the time they are here.

There are two species of Redpolls in Ontario, and these are the Common Redpolls and the rarer Hoary Redpolls. There are two subspecies of each of these species in Ontario as well.

The most common of these is the nominate subspecies of the Common Redpoll – Acanthis flammea flammea. These are the ones we see in the big numbers at feeders –

The adult male flammea is the most colourful of all redpolls.

The females (top) and juveniles are a bit more drab. There were many different Common Redpolls at the feeders.

However, there were Hoary Redpolls at the feeders as well. They are less common than the Common Redpolls in Southern Ontario, but usually a few show up with Common Redpolls at feeders in big redpoll flight years – like this year. The ones that do are almost always of the subspecies Acanthis hornemanni exilipes.

You can usually separate them from Common Redpolls by their overall pale, frosty appearance. Their bills are usually more”stubby” looking than Common Redpolls and their undertail coverts are frequently very pale as well.

I took a quick parting glance at the redpolls on the ground, and immediately noticed a bigger redpoll in with the flock. It was also markedly paler as well... so later on in the day I ventured below the viewing deck to have a closer look.

The bird was back, and this time I confirmed my suspicions – it was the rarest of the redpolls – a Hornemann’s Redpoll! This is the nominate subspecies of the already rare Hoary Redpoll – hornemanni.  

Notice how this redpoll even appears bigger when there’s no other bird to compare it with – it has a very thick-necked look to it, and that stubby little Hoary bill. It’s very pale as well.  Behavioural clues can also help to identify this bird – but they’re to be used with a little bit more caution. Hornemann’s are apparently less skittish than other redpolls. This makes sense as they’re from the High Arctic where they rarely, if ever, see humans. They also tend to hold their tails up when on the ground.

At this point I was excited because I had the distinct possibility of detecting all four redpoll subspecies in this big flock at the feeder. I began my quest for the other subspecies of Common Redpoll , the Greater Redpoll– rostrata. This is the exact opposite of the Hornemann’s Hoary Redpoll – It’s dark, very often brown, with thick streaks and the bill is very powerful and thick for a redpoll. It is also bigger than other redpolls, but not as noticeably as a Hornemann’s. I took several pictures of surrounding redpolls to hopefully see if I captured a Greater. Sure enough, I had – the lower bird

At this point I realized that I had completed the prestigious “Redpoll Challenge”, finding all four Ontario subspecies of Redpoll in a single flock, which has been achieved only a handful of times in recorded history!

Read more about it, and redpoll subspecies here: http://www.jeaniron.ca/2007/Redpolls/redpolltext3.htm

But really, folks, Redpolls are Winter birds here. I don’t know about you, but as much as I love Redpolls, I’m sick of Winter. Hopefully the white stuff melts in a short while and the stream of migrant birds can continue, as the “Redpoll Challenge” leaves Algonquin for parts further North where they will sing from stunted willows in their barren tundra habitats, just as our memory of them will leave until they come back into Southern Ontario for many more birders to puzzle over and enjoy. But et’s not think of that just yet...for now, bring on the Warblers!