The Later Hours of the Morning
-Fri, Mar 31 2023-
A Chilly Proposition
Today, I am moving my work outside at 8 AM for a few hours to attempt to spot a migrating Common Loon before the first round of weekend storms sets in. It’s also the first time I’m going to get to see what happens after the clamor of dawn dies down.
My dawn prowl went as expected, in 28 degrees and cloudy, turning somewhat clear. The Song Sparrows have taken over the earliest 40 minutes before 6:30 AM, with the American Robins getting into their rhythm around 6 and ebbing a bit by 6:15. Around 6:30, a particularly loud and close robin was so alarmed, perhaps by me, that it blocked out the wake-up calls of more distant birds.
Our favorite White-breasted Nuthatch skipped the electric pole and the red maple altogether today in its 6:51 flyby, and headed upriver somewhere.
What Happens Is They Move in Closer…
I really feel that I am encroaching on their territories. Perhaps they have adapted to avoiding me until I go inside. The vacant parking lot below is a busy landscape between 8 and 9. Before 8, local human commuters haven’t left yet, whereas at 9, the landlord and his co-worker arrive for their work day in the century-old insurance business on the first floor. Precisely during that hour, House Sparrows, European Starlings, and American Robins do general clean-up. They seem to be after the scraps and crumbs that fall out of folks’ vehicles, and as in any feeding frenzy, there is plenty of fighting.
I have the distinct impression I’m being watched. Not long after I settle in to a chilly meeting, a pair of Mourning Doves arrives to perch on the nearest wire a few feet away; they stare intently at me for a bit and then are off.
By 8:35 AM, the dawn activity finally tapers off. I’m scanning the skies, but no sign of loons. I have read that they fly early, and my daily updates from the Tussey Mountain Hawkwatch to the northeast inform me that I should already be seeing a few. The loon is a nemesis bird of sort for me for the hotspot; our records are all from Mom, who has heard them go over in the past. Until now, I really didn’t know how or where or when to look for them. I believe they do not go over in the night, so NFCs won’t help me, and I don’t relish combing through hours of daytime NFC noise to try to pick out a loon calling.
Later in the hour, the Common Raven who haunts the junkyard takes up a post in the old red maple at the confluence. It faces me directly for several minutes, undeterred as I snap a series of photos.
It croaks loudly and repeatedly, apparently at me, opening and closing its beak and hunching up its shoulders, I think in some sort of threat display. Again, I have to wonder whether my unexpected presence is noted by an individual that most likely has memorized the day-to-day rhythms of people and other potential threats throughout the downtown.
…and Closer
After the parking lot fills up again, I find out who’s getting ready to take over my building block.
Robins are spending a lot of time practically at my feet, and I think may be working on a home project underneath an old exchange unit next door. They also hang out a lot on the wooden balconies and lower roofs; they’re not bold enough to build on my choice real estate, and they don’t seem to happy about that. But they’ll find their places.
Meanwhile, House Sparrows are coming and going from a gap between outer wall and roof. A caroling House Finch lands very close to me and then continues up to the roof—I can’t see its spot, but it’s nearby as well. European Starlings I think are nesting on the Pennsylvania Avenue side, or soon will be, and in a month, a few Chimney Swifts will take over an old brick chimney, as well as dozens of other chimneys about the downtown.
The robins, nesting again near the ground (last year, it was right on our fire escape), seem to have the worst strategy, since there are at least two ravenous feral cats in the neighborhood. I have not actually seen a robin carrying nesting material yet, but one at the power pole does tug at a clasp holding a bundle of electric wires.
Another local phenomenon, the Common Grackle, is keeping its distance, occupying a choice power pole that has hosted Osprey, Belted Kingfisher, and many others during the last year.
Winds aloft are right for loons, but I can spot none. Better luck in April.
PUFI!
Mom emails later in the morning: at 8:10 AM, a male Purple Finch showed up at the feeder in the company of American Goldfinches! This is always one of her favorite feeder species. Brown-headed Cowbirds and a Northern Flicker, the latter getting into the swing of spring migration, have also appeared.
We saw a loon on Raystown on the north end (Snyders) on Friday. It was diving and feeding. We also see them on Glendale Lake every spring.