Shorebird migration is in full swing, and I will be spending quite a bit of time in the next month on mudflats, in marshes, and on beaches. This morning, I visited Wharton Point in Brunswick. I tallied a very good count for this location, including my first migrant juvenile shorebirds of the fall. (Juvenile shorebirds migrate later than adults, so we see our first few newly arrived juveniles – not counting the local breeding species – about now, well over a month after we first see southbound adults).

The totals for this morning visit were:
300+ Semipalmated Sandpiper (including a few juveniles)
150+ Lesser Yellowlegs (a very good count)
82 Short-billed Dowitchers
30+ Semipalmated Plovers
~10 Least Sandpipers (a few juveniles)
5 Greater Yellowlegs
4 Black-bellied Plovers
1 Willet
1 Killdeer

Plus, 13 Great Blue Herons and a dozen Snowy Egrets were foraging at the receding water’s edge as well.

Then, while birding Highland Road, I enjoyed watching a family of American Kestrels dogfighting with a Sharp-shinned Hawk. One of the two adult Kestrels would chase the Sharpie. Then, the Sharpie would chase a Kestrel. Sometimes one of the chasees would pull up or barrel-roll to become a chaser. It was quite entertaining.

In other news, last week I was mentioning the Monarch caterpillars that Jeannette and I “adopted.” Well, when the painters finished, and we went to put them back outside, one of the largest caterpillars was missing. Uh-oh. We searched high and low, but it seemed to have disappeared somewhere in our kitchen.

Then, while doing dishes later that night, I noticed – on the windowsill, behind the dish rack, between the dish soap and the grease can:

A pleasant stroll around Pineland Farms in New Gloucester this morning was not do birdy, but I did see a few juvenile Savannah Sparrows and a few Alder Flycatchers were still singing. Butterflies, however, were quite active.

Speaking of butterflies, Jeannette and I have adopted a handful of Monarch caterpillars that are now living on our kitchen counter. We have a small patch of milkweed (the only plants that Monarch caterpillars feed on) growing in a rather cumbersome spot along the side of our house. This week we are having our house painted, so of course a few plants are likely to be casualties.

The other day, I came home to find one of the milkweed plants broken, but with a caterpillar still attached. We placed the plant in a vase and brought it in. To be safe, we then collected caterpillars off of other plants that were possibly in the painter’s way (but I’ll give this crew quite a bit of credit for how careful they seem to be). So, we now have 7 monarchs happily munching away on milkweed on our counter. We had planned on putting them outside as soon as the painters finish (hopefully today), but we may have to keep a couple inside for a little while longer – we must say we have become a bit attached (how unscientific of us!). Actually, we have found it rather relaxing to sit and watch the caterpillars much away – you can even hear them. There’s something pleasantly blissful about their simple lives – eat, poop, sleep, eat, poop, eat . . .

Speaking of blissful, tomorrow at the store, we welcome Native American Flutist Dail Dragonfly Martin to our July Maine Artist Feature Day. If you have been in the store recently, you have likely heard the relaxing sounds of Dail’s CD being played. She will be performing from 10 to about 3 on Saturday, so stop by to have a listen. I just hope I don’t find it so relaxing that I don’t get my work done!

And, what can be more blissful than ducklings? Here are a couple of shots from our Tuesday trip to Plum Island of a hen Gadwall and one of her kids.

And, while I’m uploading photos, here’s one of a roosting Semipalmated Plover and a few Semipalmated Sandpipers from my visit yesterday to Biddeford Pool.

I spent a pleasant morning today birding in and around Biddeford Pool. The Pool is a tough place to beat, especially during shorebird migration, which is now rolling along at full force.

There are a number of places to bird in the area, and I find it difficult not to want to thoroughly comb ALL of them. That is why I don’t go there too often – it takes me too long to leave! But, I had the time today, and the tides were right, so I took full advantage of it.

I began at dead low at Hill’s Beach, tallying shorebirds – led by 101 Semipalmated Plovers and a good count of 92 Short-billed Dowitchers, including one of the interior “hendersoni” subspecies. That was added to 85 Semipalmated Sandpipers, 28 Sanderling, 6 Ruddy Turnstones, 2 Black-bellied Plovers, 2 Spotted Sandpipers, 1 Piping Plover, and 1 lone Least Sandpiper. 4 Roseate Terns joined Common Terns – including quite a few recently fledged juveniles - on the beach, along with about 30 Bonaparte’s Gulls. And, at least 100 Tree Swallows, many juveniles, were swirling overhead – and quite a few were sitting on the beach, preening, which was a most unusual sight.

. . . Or at least that what you tell yourself when you MISS the bird you were looking for.

Jeannette and I decided to make a run down to Plum Island in Massachusetts for the vagrant Black-tailed Godwit that has been hanging out there. It’s a third (I think) record for the Bay State, and there are only a couple of other records (at most) for the rest of New England. In other words, it’s a darn good bird.

I have seen one during my time working as a tour guide on St. Paul Island, Alaska, so it was not a life bird. But, it was a potential lifer for Jeannette, and it is of a subspecies that I have not seen. Plus, we are always looking for an excuse to hit Plum Island during shorebird migration.

We arrived at about 8:00am, and the bird has not yet been seen. We waited for a while – it has been frequenting a section of salt pannes along the road, not far south of the entrance – but no godwit. We made a run down to see what shorebirds were feeding at the Bill Forward Pool, but the light was already bad there (we were looking into the sun at the majority of the birds). Plus, the pools are better at a higher tide.

So, it was back to the godwit spot. No dice – but luckily, we didn’t “just miss it,” the worst thing a birder can hear. After a spell – including a brief look at a Stilt Sandpiper (a bird we don’t see that often in Maine) and a family of fuzzy Gadwall ducklings – we checked the Stage Island Pool. More shorebirds, but again, the light wasn’t great (shorebirding, from a lighting perspective, is best at Plum in the very early morning, or late afternoon).

Back to the Godwit spot. No bird. Somehow, it was already noon, so we decided it was time to head back north. Neither of us were complaining – much – although Jeannette did let out her usual, “This is why I don’t chase birds” quip, and we did have a brief discussion on how stupid birding can be. On the other hand, we did enjoy the morning – the light breeze even kept the greenheads at bay, at least for those of us wearing long pants. We studied numerous shorebirds at close range, and we thoroughly enjoyed watching Purple Martins feeding young in the colony at the visitor’s center. A large, tasty, meat-filled sub on good bread on the way back only further added to the enjoyment of the morning’s outing.

I've been meaning to upload some photos off of my camera, but I am just now getting to it.

These first two are from Jockey Hollow National Historic Park in New Jersey. This is NOT how the Eastern Deciduous Forest is supposed to look. But, thanks to an overabundance of White-tailed Deeer much of what's left of NJ's woods shows significant damage from deer. Basically, the native understory has been obliterated by hungry ungulates, and has been replaced by invasive, non-native Japanese Barberry

. . . . or nothing at all . . . .

Closer to home, here are a few pics from Thursday's boat trip to Outer Green Island . . .

As we approach the island, some of us get ready in anticipation.

Nancy and Bob wait patiently, enjoying the calm waters.

We scan the island for our quarry, carefully checking every rock and every bird.

Meanwhile, this morning, while taking another walkign route through Pownal, I happened upon an immature Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. on an apple tree. What strikes me as odd was the age of this bird, did it come from a local nest, which would surprise me - I didn't think that they bred locally. Or, was it already a southbound migrant?

Admittedly, I haven’t spent quite as much time birding in the last few weeks as usual – relatively speaking of course. Between the trip to NJ and a very exciting Tour de France, I have not spent ALL morning out in the field EVERY day. However, a mid-summer case of rarity fever, has certainly put quality over quantity for this month. And, if your rarity fever has yet to be satiated, there’s always the Black-tailed Godwit in Plum Island, Mass,or the Red-necked Stint in Connecticut, not to mention the Western Reef-Heron in Nova Scotia. (All three, by the way are Eurasian species, so one has to wonder if their occurrence is related – and if so, what other Euros could be out there?)

Meanwhile, for the last few mornings, I have taken short visits to various local parks: Hedgehog Mountain on Friday, Dragon Field with my store’s Birdwalk group on Saturday, and a 4-mile stroll around Pownal this morning. One thing is for sure, is that birdsong is again on the increase. While some species, such as American Goldfinches and < ahref="http://images.google.com/images?svnum=10&hl=en&lr=&q=cedar+waxwing" target="new">Cedar Waxwings are just now nesting, others are also singing again. Some birds will reclaim territories for a second nesting attempt, and others – with most parental duties behind them - will once again break into song.

One species, however, that really never quiets down are good ol’ Red-eyed Vireos. No matter how hot, no matter how late in the summer, no matter what time of day, Red-eyed Vireos seem to always be singing. While it may not be considered the most beautiful song out there, it can always be counted on to break up the mid-summer drown of the Deer Flies circling around your head!

Although I hate to leave off with a depressing story, it’s been another miserable breeding season on seabirds in the Pacific. Warm waters have again disrupted the food chain that supplies many of our pelagic species with nourishment for themselves and their young. One has to wonder if a similar event in the Atlantic has been the reason, or at least part of the reason, for the relative plethora of southern terns in Maine this summer.

Just so you don’t think that my birding adventures are always successful (i.e. the first trip to Outer Green Island for the Bridled Tern and the run out to Stratton Island for the Yellow-nosed Albatross), I should mention that the boat that I organized last night to Outer Green Island failed in its mission.

No Bridled Tern. No Peregrine Falcon chaos. No Albatross, Frigatebird, Tropicbird, or anything else that we dreamed of.

So, I am complaining? ABSOLUTELY NOT! It was a beautiful evening, the water was smooth, the Common and Roseate Terns were spectacular, and we spotted an adult Great Cormorant and three drake Surf Scoters – both species rare in summer in Maine. Ok, I’ll also admit that I didn’t drive nearly as far as some of last night’s participants.

Here’s another take on last night’s trip from a friend that I am trying to infect with the birding sickness.

I am complaining though that I wasn’t seawatching from Dyer Point in Cape Elizabeth this morning, with an onshore wind as Tropical Storm Beryl passed offshore. Although it was likely too distant to bring in anything rare, with the recent smorgasboard of rare seabirds, it was probably worth a try.

Instead – after briefly birding Bayview Preserve (three Marsh Wrens this morning) – I stood on line to try out for Jeopardy. Uh, I didn’t make it. Should of went birding!

So, here’s the background. A Yellow-nosed Albatross has been seen sporadically this summer along the New England coast. Normally found in the South Atlantic and Indian Ocean, this species will occasionally cross the doldrums and the Equator, and show up in the North Atlantic. When they do, they can stick around for a while, perhaps even years. It is very likely that that sporadic reports of Yellow-nosed Albatross along the East Coast this year, and quite likely over the pass few years – if not much longer – pertain to the same individual.

The most recent sightings were by seabird biologists on Stratton Island, as the bird made a few passes over the island last weekend, before drifting off to see. This is fairly typical for this species: a brief visit to a bay or often a seabird colony, and then it wanders away. A few birders spent that evening scanning the water from Prout’s Neck, but to no avail.

Fast forward to yesterday evening, at about 5:00pm:
1) Robby (one of the seabird biologists on Stratton) calls Lysle. But, Lysle’s away on business, so Joanna takes the message, “The Albatross is sitting on the beach at Stratton!”
2) Joanna calls me to “get the word out.”
3) I post the report to the listserves.
4) I call Rich. “Rich, what are you doing?” “Uh, not much, I was . . .” “Good, meet me at Back Cove in 15 minutes, the Albatross is standing on Stratton.” “OK!”
5) 16 minutes later Rich and I are on our way to Prout’s Neck.
6) Turk calls, “I just got a call from Linda, who’s on Stratton, there’s a . . .” “I know, Rich and I are on our way.” “Where are you heading?” “Prout’s.” “See you there.”
7) Rich and I, soon joined by Turk are scanning the beach at Stratton Island from the Cliff Walk at Prout’s Neck. We can’t see it. A bird that big would, and should, be visible.
8) We call Suzanne on Stratton, “Is it still there?” “It should be, but it’s sitting down, and it’s in a little dip, you may not be able to see it.”
9) Turk, Rich, and I look at each other and say, “We need a boat!”
10) We call Lucy, tell her the story, and she simply says “I’ll meet you at the yacht club in 15 minutes.”
11) Lucy, her sister, and her mother (who were pulled out of a cocktail party) and Turk, Rich, and I, hop into their boat and motor out to Stratton.
12) We scanned the beach from a safe distance (so as not to disturb the bird, or the many breeding species on the island. Stratton Island is a protected sanctuary, and visitors are not allowed to land during the breeding season. –Here’s the “don’t try this at home” spiel.- Approaching too closely could cause significant harm to the nesting terns, herons, etc., so anyone operating offshore of Stratton – whether birding or fishing – needs to use extreme care in not bothering the birds . . . By the way, getting too close could also run you the risk of “finding” some of the submerged rocks just offshore.
13) Soon, we spotted it – sitting there on the gravel beach, just behind a little high-tide berm. Wow! What a magnificent bird. Ooh, ahh, and cheers were shared by all!

I’m actually (for a change) rather speechless here: I mean an ALABATROSS, in MAINE, and we saw it! Wow!

Stratton Island:

The Yellow-nosed Albatross (Photos taken through binoculars from the boat):

When you own a store, your perspective on what a “vacation” entails changes. For Jeannette and me, our summer vacation was a one-night camping trip to the White Mountains. (And after a week in Joisey, it was nice to escape people for a bit!)

We set up camp late Monday morning in a beautiful, small, quiet Forest Service campground not far from the Maine border in New Hampshire. We spent the afternoon hiking an 8-10 mile loop that followed a few creeks, passed over one (relatively speaking) small hill, and meandered through varying habitat. Do to heat and my bum knee, we weren’t about to summit Mt. Washington on this trip!

Our loop winded through mostly mixed deciduous/coniferous woodlands, with some riparian brush, and a few scrubby, recovering blowdowns. Species typical of this habitat were seen and heard in abundance, especially Black-throated Blue Warblers and Swainson’s Thrushes. Quite a few gorgeous Blackburnian Warblers were seen, and we often stopped to enjoy the intricate song of Winter Wrens. We encountered one family of Ruffed Grouse, and our dog, Sasha, completely fell for the hen’s distraction display, hook, line, and sinker!

We returned to the campground, and refreshed ourselves in a nearby swimming hole. Cedar Waxwings sallied for insects overhead, and more Swainson’s Thrushes echoed from the woods. As dusk fell at our camp, we fell asleep to the sounds of serenading Swainson’s Thrushes, interrupted by the occasional vocalizations of a pair of Barred Owls.

The morning chorus was suprisingly loud for this time of year, led by the thrushes and Red-eyed Vireos, along with a few Blackburnian, Black-throated Green, and Yellow-rumped Warblers.

After much stalling, and a bit of relaxed lolly-gagging, we decided to head down from the hill to spend the morning birding at Brownfield Bog, just south of Fryeburg. A stiff knee, muggy air, rising temperatures, and very threatening clouds confirmed our decision. Besides, we had not birded this great spot at all this year.

Our decision seemed like a good one, except birding at the Bog was a near complete failure! It was hot as heck, reducing bird activity, but the deer flies were just too much to take! Thanks to our favorite bug dope, they weren’t biting us, but the constant drone near our ears severely limited our ability to hear anything avian. Worse, however, were the deer flies for Sasha. She spent most of the time rolling in mud, running away from swarms of flies, or swatting at flies landing on her head with her paws (very cute and amusing at first), or snapping at the ones in front of her face (doing her best Tree Swallow imitation). Basically, our dog looked like Pigpen from the Peanuts – except the cloud following here were voracious flies, not JUST filth.

A few somewhat open sections of trail provided a bit of wind, and a bit of a respite from the flies (the thunderheads were really building over the mountains, so our decision to bird the bog wasn’t all bad), but we soon threw the towel in – mostly for our dog’s sake – and turned around. We did see one Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, one of the target species of a trip here, but we were really forced to be out for a brisk walk rather than a slow, birding mosey. So, unfortunately our trip did not end as well as it began, but it was still a great, albeit far-too-short, vacation!

I spent a few hours this morning catching up with my good friend Bruce, as we birded the Sourlands Mountain Preserve. Neither of us had been here in years, despite it’s proximity to where we live(d), so it was a good place to mosey through the woods, chatting, and enjoying the typical local breeding species.

We were both impressed by the density of Scarlet Tanagers and Wood Thrushes, but for me, the highlight was great views of a pair of foraging Worm-eating Warblers, a bird that is a true rarity in Maine. I’ll admit that the potential for a Kentucky Warbler was also there, but I have given up on that quest for this visit – not that I would have looked the other way if one popped into view, of course.

Since I am hanging out with old college friends tonight and attending a very good friend’s wedding on Saturday night, I have absolutely no aspirations of being out the door early enough in the next two mornings to fit in any worthwhile birding time (the heat wave, which is of course, even worse down here, certainly limits bird activity (or at least our detection thereof) – and my ability to function - even earlier than normal for mid-July.

Therefore, here’s the final scorecard for this trip:
-State birds: 1 (Wilson’s Storm-Petrel)
-Sandy Hook Patch List Birds: 1 (Wilson’s Storm-Petrel)
-Birds not seen in 1+ year: 4 (Hooded Warbler, Forster’s Tern, Clapper Rail, Black Skimmer)
-“Life” birding locations: 1 (Black River WMA)
-Birding locations not visited in 8++ years: 2 (Jockey Hollow, Sourland Mountain)
-Favored patches: 2 (Duke Island Park, Sandy Hook)
-Italian deli: 1
-Kosher deli: 1
-German deli: 1
-Slices of “real” pizza: 2 (low count)
-Cannolis: 2 (very low count)
-Pork roll, egg, and cheese on a bagel: 1 (record low count)
-Rita’s Water Ice: 1
-Ears of Jersey corn: 6
-Pints of Yeungling: No comment.

Of course I always enjoy visiting friends, family, and birds in Joisey - but my favorite part of visiting the state is LEAVING to go HOME to Maine!

And, I’ll leave you with this iinteresting article on evolution-in-action with “Darwin’s Finches” in the Galapagos Islands. Have a great weekend, and stay cool!

With most of my tasks down here finally accomplished, I was able to go farther afield and visit one of my very favorite birding locales – Sandy Hook. I met up with my friend Scott for a full morning of ‘Hook birding.

And we had a pretty good day! It was sweltering hot and humid, but luckily the light breeze off the water prevented me from completely melting away! We ended up with 60 species on the Hook today, plus three more (Rock Pigeon, Turkey Vulture, and Black Vulture) during or after lunch at “Off the Hook,” which as you may of guessed, is just off of the hook.

Much to my surprise, I even added a bird to my NJ list – one of the really BIG holes: Wilson’s Storm-Petrel. Three were offshore on the ocean side. This was one of the odd holes on my state list, likely due to my lack of time in NJ in the summer (I haven’t been birding in the state in mid-summer in 7-8 years). Also, there are not usually many Storm-Petrels off of the Jersey shore (most are either well offshore, where they can only be seen by pelagic trips; or they spend the summer – their winter – farther north, such as in the Gulf of Maine). Furthermore, when I was birding in the state in the summers, it wasn’[t really well known that Storm-Petrels could be seen just offshore in mid-summer at a place like Sandy Hook – there just wasn’t anyone looking!

So, adding the state tick was a nice treat, but so were many of the other birds that we saw. As shorebird migration is underway, we had a smattering of newly arriving shorebirds (Lest Sandpiper, Semipalmated Sandpiper, Short-billed Dowitcher, and Lesser Yellowlegs). Furthermore, while enjoying a Black Skimmer over the salt pond on the north end, 2 Greater Yellowlegs and 4 more Lessers, flew in, presumably just having flown across the bay: migration in action!)

Seeing 6 Americans Oystercatcher all together was a treat, and we were surprised to see a total of 3 Forster’s Terns – not expected at Sandy Hook in mid-summer. A flock of 19 Wood Ducks launched out of North Pond, and a single Glossy Ibis was flushed from a grassy field. The highlight of the day, from a rarity perspective anyway, was a first-cycle Lesser Black-backed Gull that was loafing on North Beach.

So, it was a very productive day, catching up with a good friend, at one of my most favorite birding locations – and finishing off with a beer and a burger at my old watering hole (when I worked at Sandy Hook one spring counting migrant raptors). What could have been better - other than being home in Maine of course!

As I thumbed through the Guide to Birdfinding in NJ last night, looking for some mid-summer inspiration, I came across the chapter on the Black River Wildlife Management Area. It's only about a half hour away, and I've never been there! Oh, what a creature of habit I can be.

So, that was this morning's destination - and yes, there was at least one trail that was suggested for Kentucky Warbler. However, that was not the goal. A wide diversity of breeding birds and the opportunity to explore a new location were the primary goals.

I was impressed by the size of the place, and the diversity of habitats. One trail provided a chorus of serenading Veeries. Another trail produced spot-on, crippling views (for you, Mike F.) of a family of Blue-winged Warblers. We don’t see many Blue-gray Gnatcatchers in Maine, either, so seeing a handful of those was a treat. I heard one Yellow-throated Vireo – another uncommon bird in Maine, and also enjoyed more crippling, spot-on, AND point-blank views of gaudy Scarlet Tanagers and Indigo Buntings.

Interestingly, my good friend Scott was telling me that this park used to be more heavily birded. Now, he rarely hears about sightings from there. Either it’s not longer a “trendy” place to go, or it is no longer as “good” as it used to be. Or both. Speaking things not being as good as they used to be, Scott also mentioned that he doesn’t think that Kentucky Warblers are being seen at the Cross Estate in Jockey Hollow (where I was looking for them yesterday), likely due to the fact that deer have completely devastated the native understory (all that is left if dirt or Japanese Barberry tangles). Guess I’ll need to head to the wooded swamps in South Jersey to add this tick to the state list.

It never ceases to amaze me that every time I visit Joisey, there are more people, more cars, more traffic, and more White-tailed Deer. I didn’t think we could fit another subdivision or another interchange, or another strip-mall, but yet, somehow they do.

But, all of this crowding aside, the state does hold some magical places. There’s a plethora of great parks, reserves, and refuges that protect open space and wildlife in an ever-spreading sea of suburbia. When I am down in NJ, I tend to gravitate towards all of my old patches, but there are many places that I have either never been to, or have not been to a number of years.

So, I have decided that during each visit to NJ that I make, I have to visit at least one place that I don’t usually go to. Also, there’s a few gaping holes on the Ol’ State list for me, so if I could tie in a visit to a “new” park with the pursuit of a state bird, well, all the better.

With both of those goals in mind this morning, I set out for Jockey Hollow, a division of the Morristown National Historic Park. One think that Jersey has no shortage of (in addition to parking lots and strip malls) is historical sites. Jockey Hollow is where, “General George Washington set up quarters for his Continental Army during the winters of 1777-78 and 1779-80. The Morristown area provided a source of food, water, wood fuel, while the nearby Watchung Ridges enabled the lookouts to observe the activities of the British, 30 miles to the east in New York City,” according to Bill Boyle’s A Guide to Bird Finding in New Jersey. This area is rich in history, as well as birdlife.

Boy, it’s wicked hot (and humid) down here in Joisey! I certainly don’t miss summers around here! But, here I am again for the week and heat or not, I will most definitely be getting out to do some birding.

As I usually do when I visit the area, I stop by one of my old patches – Bridgewater’s Duke Island Park. And that’s where I spent my morning today.

While few birds were singing, there was a lot of activity – just about everyone had young to feed: from Titmice to Flickers, from Kingbirds to Red-eyed Vireos, from Song Sparrows to Barn Swallows – well you get the idea. A few Purple Martins were overhead, a bird we don’t see much of in Maine. The density of Carolina Wrens at Duke Island Park always impresses me, and seeing lots of Red-bellied Woodpeckers is always enjoyable. I also have very good luck with seeing Yellow-billed Cuckoos here, but this morning I only heard – but did not see – two of these.

The Carolina Wren, Red-bellied Woodpecker, and Yellow-billed Cuckoo are all very uncommon species in Maine. While the cuckoo is local (they’re actually quite common around the Brownfield Bog area and Fryeburg), the other two species are just beginning to colonize Maine. 10 or 20 years ago, both species would be quite noteworthy, but now, they are becoming fairly regular in the southern part of the state. Red-bellied Woodpeckers are now breeding north to Portland, with a few isolated breeding pairs even farther north. Carolina Wrens are increasing as well, although sever winters tend to reduce their northward progress. In fact, yesterday, while birding in Kittery on my way south, I spotted both of these species: a Carolina Wren at Fort Foster and a Red-bellied Woodpecker at the corner of Rte 103 and Haley Rd.

There’s little doubt that these two species are following the same northward range expansion of other southern species that have recently colonized the state, such as Turkey Vultures, Tufted Titmice, Northern Mockingbird, and Northern Cardinal. No doubt others, such as Black Vultures, are probably not far behind. Of course, the tradeoff to new species moving north into an area due to Climate Change is that they have to find a niche to fill. That niche is usually a void left by a species that is vacating the southern limits of its breeding range. In fact, it is likely that for every “new” species that begins to breed in the state, there are multiple species that cease breeding here. The big problem with that, is there’s only so much room to our north – it’s not too far before a species runs out of land to colonize.

Yesterday evening, 14 crazy birders (from Maine, New Hampshire, and Massachusetts) boarded a fishing boat that we chartered out of Portland. The destination: Outer Green Island. The goal: Bridled Tern. The water was calm, the wind was slight, the air was warm – no complaints were heard about conditions as we left the harbor.

First spotted on June 19th, this tropical species has been hanging out and roosting within the island’s Common and Roseate Tern colony. A handful of us decided that this was worth a chase – there is only one birder in the entire state who has seen a Bridled Tern before in Maine! That First State Record was of a dying bird, that succumbed overnight, found on Monhegan Island. This bird, however, was doing quite well, despite being so far from home (in summer they can be found in the Gulf Stream waters as far north as North Carolina, but very rarely any further north).

On the way out, Stella phoned the biologist on the island, and he indicated it was at it’s usual spot. As we approached the island, the excitement and anticipation increased as the swirl of activity increased. Thousands of Common Terns wheeled around overheard, while others commuted to feeding areas or were on their way back with fish in their bills to feed hungry youngsters. We spotted a few endangered Roseate Terns as well.

Then, as a number of terns took flight, we spotted our quarry – the Bridled Tern! A state bird for all, a life bird for others (myself included). The tern flies directly towards us, and banks just off to the side of the boat, showing off all of its diagnostic features. What a great view of a great bird!

A stroll into the salt pannes off of the Eastern Road Trail in Scarborough Marsh this morning produced hundreds of migrant shorebirds. (7 Killdeer, 2 Greater Yellowlegs, 59 Lesser Yellowlegs, 105 Least Sandpipers, and 110 Short-billed Dowitchers – plus breeding Willets – to be exact.) It seems that the cold front that past yesterday has ushered in the first large wave of returning migrant shorebirds.

In addition to the shorebirds, a Virginia Rail called from the distance, a few Green-winged Teal loafed in the water, and 7 Little Blue Herons joined Snowy and Great Egrets at the pannes’ edges. Tree Swallows were buzzing around, including a number of recent fledglings – a good sign that at least some swallows were successful this season. Marsh Wrens were suprisingly vocal, as were numerous Nelson’s and a few Saltmarsh Sharp-tailed Sparrows. Meanwhile, two Roseate Terns joined Common Terns feeding off of Pine Point.

Who says July birding is dull? Not me!

Now, admittedly, I do sleep a little more in this month than most others, and there is less song, and less migration than June, but there are still lots of birds to see. As if you really NEEDED an excuse to go birding, here are five of them for the month of July:

Yesterday, Jeannette and I made another visit to the Kennebunk Plains. Canada Lilies were in full bloom and looking quite pretty, while ripening blueberries provided a tasty treat. Despite the warm temperatures, and early July date, the birding was quite productive as well.

We enjoyed watching at least 4 Upland Sandpipers. Vesper and Savannah Sparrows were feeding young, and we heard at least 7 Grasshopper Sparrows. Prairie Warblers were also quite active, with most individuals flying around with beaks full of food for hungry nestlings.

One of the Clay-colored Sparrows that we found here about a month ago, continues to be seen, so one of our goals was to confirm breeding activity for this species. This smart-looking sparrow is a rare and irregular breeder in the state, but it has been documented breeding before in the Kennebunk Plains. The one individual, which has been seen by a number of birders of late, was still singing along the northern edge of the Plains. We watched it for about a half hour, hoping to see a behavior indicative of breeding – such as carrying food, feeding nestlings, intra-pair interactions, etc. But, since he is singing so persistently, it is most likely that he is still looking for love. Otherwise, he would most likely be busy feeding the kids by now.

We also searched the substation along Maguire Rd, where we had two singing Clay-coloreds last month. They have not been reported recently, so our hope was that they males were just not singing anymore because they too were busy with young’uns. But, after searching the area for about 45 minutes, we did not see any Clay-colored Sparrows there.

Maybe next year.

Well, I had every intentions of spending the morning birding the Biddeford Pool area. But, as I was ready to head out, I noticed the building clouds. A quick check of the radar showed some fairly heavy rain moving our way. It didn’t look like it would last too long, but, frankly, I am getting kinda tired of being out in the rain!

Now, during the peak of migration, there’s no way a few thunderstorms would hold me down, but this morning, I threw up my hands and went back to bed. Birders usually have a fairly optimistic viewpoint when it comes to weather – some of the worst weather can produce some of the best birding! However, in mid-summer, with few species on the move, bad weather just gets annoying. And to be honest, I’m getting a bit annoyed with the weather! Oh, well, complaining isn’t going to change it, so I might as well stop.

I did head out for a mosey through Hedgehog Mountain Park (after the first line of showers passed) with the dog, enjoying singing Wood Thrushes and Veeries (my favorite song) and spending some time with the other local breeders, like a Blackburnian Warbler and the Cliff Swallow colony. Mid-summer is a good time to get to know, and enjoy, the inhabitants of your local patch.

Then, it was back home to watch some of the Tour de France. Go George Hincapie!