Crystal clear and warmer (39) today, and everything seems louder. The contrails, on fire, linger awhile until the eastern sky is streaked with exhaust.
The early bird sequence is: American Robin (before 6) - Song Sparrow - Carolina Wren - House Sparrow - Northern Cardinal - Canada Goose - Mallard -Eastern Phoebe (6:28). Geese and ducks are consistently paired: Canadas flew out calling from a roost in the Gap, perhaps the pond: Mallards from just up Bald Eagle Creek.
Almost all of the rest of the dawn crowd is up and about by seven now: Tufted Titmouse (6:31) - Common Raven - Dark-eyed Junco (!) - American Crow - Chipping Sparrow - House Finch (6:35). Next comes the aerial group, and sky is filled with them within a few minutes: Common Grackle - European Starling (pairs) - Brown-headed Cowbird - Red-winged Blackbird (pair). Then the birds of sunrise, which is 6:52 today: Great Blue Heron - Mourning Dove (pair) - Downy Woodpecker - Rock Pigeon (pairs and then flocks).
Promenade
Blinding sun doesn’t hit the balcony until 7:47. In the intervening time, the sky stays active, even with a lack of breeze. Commuters between and across town and country include the icterines as well as Rock Pigeons, Canada Geese, American Robins, and a wave of Northern Flickers, mostly plying the ridgetops; this continues later into the morning.
Blue Jays have suddenly become a prominent part of the spectacle, calling by 7 and then flying, single file, from one sycamore top to the other, displacing icterines and starlings as needed. Cardinals are also less shy: they’ve taken to singing in the hedges, and the most local pair, high up in the trees, ticks for minutes on end about something I can’t see along Bald Eagle Creek. At 7:13, the Cooper’s Hawk hits the tallest sycamore, scattering birds in all directions. It then heads downriver on the railroad side.
At 7:27, an adult Bald Eagle is number 30 on the morning. It flies out of the Gap along Sapsucker Ridge, but does not perch today.
At 7:33, three phoebes chase each other around the confluence. I’m guessing two males and a female; they don’t sit still long, often perching, calling loudly (3 different vocalizations), twitching tails.
The last new species is a Louisiana Waterthrush, calling out of sight.
At this point, every species, of the ones I can see, is either noticeably paired or working hard on finding a mate. Raptors, ravens, and a few others are already nesting. Territories are everywhere; as I mentioned recently, I’m inside the home spaces of at least four nesters. Even the flocking species, such as grackles, vultures, robins, pigeons, House Sparrows, and House Finches, are as often two-by-two as they are in larger groups. With all these aggressive species about, it’s a wonder the migrants to come will have any space of their own, and indeed, they have very little here in town. The majority of the summer residents will be out in the sticks, though from my balcony, I’ll be able to enjoy a peek at the home lives of Barn and Northern Rough-winged swallows, Chimney Swifts, Baltimore Orioles, and Warbling Vireos.
Vireos Are Back!
The day heats up, and it’s not much of a surprise when Mom alerts me of the first Blue-headed Vireos singing in the Hollow. When I go up to get the recordings, the fields are alive with sparrows, after what I have heard was a big migrant night last night. Field Sparrows, some of whom will soon be singing 24 hours, are letting loose their Space Invaders songs.
As usual, I’m behind on NFCs. I’ve identified the bulk of March calls, with more Long-tailed Ducks than I ever could have imagined. A Virginia Rail at the end of the month, a Savannah Sparrow, and what sounds like a Ring-tailed Duck, along with the vireo, put the Plummer’s Hollow 200 total above 90. I’ll have the night checklists up by the weekend, which should see the year top 100.