Author

Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

BirdingBirding BasicsBirding guidancePhotography

Recruiting new birders at the Airstream Rally: Have I lost my mind?

by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal
written by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

With only a few days to go until our “Beginner’s Guide to Birding” seminar at the 62nd International Airstream Rally, I still couldn’t figure out what to say. When Anders and I volunteered to do the talk months before, the mission seemed simple: Persuade our fellow campers to try their hand at birding.

We had just parked our trailer alongside 700 other Airstreams on a sweltering July afternoon at The Meadow Event Park in Doswell, Virginia. More than 1,000 members of local Airstream clubs had migrated from across the U.S. and Canada for this annual week-long gathering.

Some of the vintage Airstreams at the rally

Spread before us was a sea of silver: Iconic Airstreams, the oldest dating back to 1947, the largest at 34 feet and 5 tons, and all of them gleaming. American flags, state flags, and local chapter flags proudly flew from the bowsprits. Scattered flocks of plastic pink flamingos, the de facto Airstream mascot, greeted folks passing by.

The splendor of it all took my breath away. But then came a severe case of nerves about this upcoming talk. I truly believe people who spend so much time camping could enjoy life more – and perhaps live longer according to scientific studies – by simply tuning in to the birds all around them. So I soldiered on.

My assignment was to craft a short but helpful sales pitch. But what if nobody showed up? And if they did, how could I communicate the thrill of the hunt and the overwhelming dose of awe each time we track down a new species?

Baltimore Oriole

This stage fright was not without cause. Lots of people ask us how we came to be birders in the first place. We start to explain, and nearly always, by a couple of sentences in, their eyes glaze over. Or else it becomes obvious that what they really want to know is how on Earth we completely lost our minds.

Family and friends have watched us cram all manner of stuff into a 23-foot “mobile home” and buy a Ford F150 to haul it around for weeks on end. (Our daughter’s reaction: “But you’re not truck people!”)

It doesn’t help that what we tend to talk about is which species we saw during spring migration. We launch into anxious diatribes on habitat loss, plus detailed descriptions of which bird eats what and why it matters. I frequently lose my train of thought at the sound of any chirp, squawk or tweet I don’t recognize.

Continue Reading
4 comments
2 FacebookTwitterEmail
Bird of the WeekBirding guidancePhotographySpecies

What’s this bird? How a drab little guy stumped the experts

by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal
written by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

When you upload a bird photo to the terrific Facebook group called “What’s This Bird?” you tend to get an identification back in a matter of seconds.

A few nights ago, however, something was wrong.

I like to count how long it takes for my mystery bird to be pegged, and it’s rare that even five seconds tick by before several veteran birders on the Facebook site from the American Bird Association agree on the species.

Here’s the bird that kept everyone guessing.

But this time I had uploaded a photo of a small, greenish-gray bird – drab except for white bars on its wings. I knew from my guidebook that this bird was a type of Flycatcher, but which one?

East of the Mississippi River this time of year, the guidebook showed eight very similar possibilities: The Yellow-bellied, Acadian, Willow, Alder and Least Flycatchers, all in the Empidonax species group called “Empids;” or else the Olive-sided Flycatcher, Eastern Phoebe or Eastern Wood-pewee.

Although my Flycatcher was on a branch close to the ground obscured by green leaves in low light, I had no doubt Facebook’s crackerjack birders would solve the riddle.

And so I began to count – 10, 20, 30 seconds – then a whole minute. That’s odd, I thought. Was everybody on vacation?

After about five very slow minutes, I saw the Facebook signal that someone started typing. And it turns out that identifying Flycatchers is so difficult that the ensuing deliberation sounded like a bunch of scientists judging a dog show.

“My gut says Eastern Wood-Pewee,” the first person wrote. “Any Empidonax would have a cleaner chest, but this bird has a smudgy gray “vest.” Definitely not a Phoebe — a Phoebe would have a black face contrasting the paler grey back, also a brighter white lower belly.”

Hooray, I thought. Mystery solved. And then someone else started typing:

“The relatively short primaries suggest otherwise. A Pewee would have very long primaries. Also a Pewee would have a much less pronounced eye ring. Empids can have a smudgy vest. This is an Acadian Flycatcher.”

The back and forth went on for a couple of days, and even some of the best birders in Washington, D.C., got involved.

EasternPeeweeEasternPeewee

Here are three views of the bird that turned out to be an Acadian Flycatcher.

EasternPeewee-2EasternPeewee-2

The front view doesn't give you much information.

DSC_2177DSC_2177

The light colored beak, brown head coloring and whitish breast were all clues.

 

With the next comment, we generally settled on the Acadian:

“I will add my vote for Acadian Flycatcher,” wrote one of the most respected and thorough contributors. “The yellow underside of the bill, the moderately long primary extensions and the location all point to Acadian Flycatcher. Right now in southern Maryland, Acadians and their little two-note calls are everywhere!”

For me, one of the most compelling parts of birding is the detective work that goes into figuring out what we’ve seen. These days, we’re armed with dozens of books, apps, websites and laminated pamphlets to help with identifications.

Acadian Flycatcher view of pronounced wing bars.

In my early days of birding, anything beyond the most common species presented a challenge. Anders took photos of almost every bird, and we’d collect the mystery birds at the end of the day. Then we, too, would eagerly compare tail feathers, eye rings and beaks – just like the experts — to try and figure out the IDs. Oftentimes it’s a lot harder than you’d think.

My Flycatcher adventure was a reminder that the complexity of the avian world is enormous. There’s always more to learn. It turns out that the best way to figure out which Flycatcher you’re looking at is to catch their song. Without it, you may never be sure. If I’d known that the two-note call of the Acadian Flycatcher sounds like pizza (piz-ZAH), I wouldn’t have needed Facebook.

A bird’s “vocalizations” are definitive — way more reliable than its smudgy vest or belly color. (However, the process of learning hundreds of combinations of peeps, buzzes, squawks and trills is daunting. A story for another day.)

So what did I learn from my first Acadian Flycatcher? Sometimes, even the best birders get stumped.

One friend had some advice when it came to Flycatchers. “If it doesn’t vocalize, then just move along,’’ he said. “Pretend you didn’t see it.’’

Be sure to try out “What’s this Bird? when you’re stumped. It’s usually fast and easy. Meanwhile, here’s a gallery of various Flycatchers. Scroll over the phots for IDs.

DSC_0261DSC_0261

Great Crested Flycatcher

DSC_4522DSC_4522

Eastern Wood-Pewee

DSC_0350DSC_0350

Vermillion Flycatcher

DSC_6150DSC_6150

Eastern Kingbird, in the Flycatcher family

DSC_2177DSC_2177

Acadian Flycatcher, star of our post

 

 

 

 

0 comment
0 FacebookTwitterEmail
BirdingBirding BasicsBirding guidanceBirds stories

The day I learned birding etiquette: Or how to mind your manners on the trail

by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal
written by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

In our early days on the trail, it took a while to realize that birding has its own, largely un-communicated set of dos and don’ts.

I’ll never forget the morning we pulled into a nature preserve parking lot alongside a group of folks wearing khaki vests and putting away cannon-sized cameras wrapped in camouflage coating.

We were excited to find characters who looked so much the part. These had to be “real” birders, and we had a lot of questions. We got out of the car, grinning and waving. They practically jumped into theirs as if we were planning to attack.

In the early days, some birders ran when they saw me coming with my pink hat and pulled up socks.

Could it have been my trusty pink cap? The white tube socks pulled over my cuffs to avoid getting bitten by a tick? In the birding world, we were as obvious a cliché wearing our beginner garb as they were in identical bird-nerd outfits.

It turns out there are good reasons for the birding nerdyness.

“Birds are very sensitive to colors and often view them as a threat,” said Dale Rosselet, the vice president for education at New Jersey Audubon. “So you don’t want people moving through the forest with hot pink on. Wear muted colors, and try to blend in with the surroundings. If you’re walking through a forest, white stands out like a sore thumb.”

Oops.

Wardrobe fundamentals was just one lesson I learned from Rosselet during a walk with 20 other birders of varying skill levels at the Cape May Birding Festival last month. At one point she trained her telescope on a distant gull and turned to face the group.

“Here’s how we’re going to do this,” Rosselet said. “Each person takes a quick look through the scope, and after everyone has a chance, you can come back and look again.”

Taking turns may be kindergarten basics, but after leading hundreds of field trips and tours, Rosselet has seen many a person forget their manners in the presence of a beautiful bird.

“People get excited. They’re going to rush in, they’re going to squeal – we’ve all done it,” she said. “The main thing is to try and remember you’re in a group, and everyone is trying to see.”

In a recent interview, I asked Rosselet for more advice on how to bird well with others. For starters, go on an organized walk with a trained leader.

Continue Reading
4 comments
0 FacebookTwitterEmail
BirdingBirds storiesBreeding and NestingMigrationPhotography

How he stole my heart: Cocky, reckless and drunk with love

by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal
written by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

Love can be dangerous. We know it. And yet, there are times when this most elemental of emotions pushes you beyond all reason.

Why else would an otherwise elusive, tiny yellow bird end up walking down the middle of the road in broad daylight? It was a gorgeous spring day, and this Yellow-throated Warbler was drunk in love.

Typically Yellow-throated Warblers are so difficult to find that they’ve hardly been studied. They spend most of their lives hidden, conducting all of their daily activities behind the leaves of trees some 200 feet tall.

And yet…there he was, hopping down the road in mid-May at the Pokomoke River State Park on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.

Anders and I had just finished a long birding hike through the forest, heading back to build a fire and call it a day. Out of the corner of my eye there was a suddenly a splash of lemony yellow where it wasn’t supposed to be.

A jolt of something akin to electricity shot down the backs of my legs as I realized what was happening. I dug my fingernails into my husband’s arm and pointed, resisting the urge to jump up and down.

Then all I could do was stand by and watch, holding my breath to see if Anders could move fast enough to get the photo.

Continue Reading
1 comment
0 FacebookTwitterEmail
Birding and the Airstream

We used to snicker at Snowbirds — until we discovered this Airstream getaway

by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal
written by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

There’s one avian species I never thought we’d be observing at such close range: Snowbirds.

That’s what Florida locals call retirees from “up north” who migrate to the Sunshine State every winter. Three decades ago — when Anders and I were newlyweds living in Miami Beach – we’d snicker at old fogies who drove so slow and yet rushed out to dinner at 5 o’clock for the “early-bird” menu.

Now we’re part of that flock.

Normally our extended birding adventures involve a leapfrogging route over thousands of miles, camping in state or national parks surrounded by lush hiking trails. As wonderful as this nomadic life can be, the downside is a complicated checklist of moving chores.

Every other day or so, I’m inside the Airstream furiously cleaning, packing the breakables and securing anything else that could become a projectile once we move. Anders tackles the outside – pulling up stakes (literally), hitching the trailer, hoisting bikes and emptying water tanks.

And then we drive, hours and hours, only to do everything in reverse at the next location.

Beverly strolls down the main street of Land Yacht Harbor

This trip we wanted to try staying put, so we spent the last six weeks of winter as snowbirds in an RV park in Melbourne, Florida, called Land Yacht Harbor. We chose the park due to its proximity to a host of preserves, national parks and other birding hotspots that allowed us to make all kinds of day trips around South and Central Florida.

Continue Reading
3 comments
3 FacebookTwitterEmail
Bird of the WeekBirdingMigration

Sandhill Crane Stories: Bold city birds vs. their shy cousins

by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal
written by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

Audubon’s annual Nebraska Crane Festival starts today, where 80 percent of the world’s cranes are converging on one 80-mile stretch of land. More than half a million Sandhill Cranes will touch down in central Nebraska this spring to fatten up before migrating north to their breeding grounds.

Meanwhile, in central Florida, some 5,000 very unusual Sandhill Cranes aren’t going anywhere.

Florida is home to a sub-species of Sandhill Crane that never migrates. While their cousins in other parts of the U.S. are so skittish they’d never stay still for a photo, Florida’s cranes are urban birds unafraid of people.

There may be tens of thousands of Sandhill Cranes near Kearney, Nebraska, for the festival this week, but to see one up close you’d have to hide behind a bird blind. If you’re in Florida, like Anders and I are for a winter birding trip, the crazy cranes are grazing on golf courses, standing in people’s front yards and walking alongside major roadways without showing a care in the world.

Because Florida’s suitable crane habitat has been shrinking for years, these native birds have grown accustomed to sharing space with humans. (Sandhill Cranes can live up to 35 years and mate for life.) State law forbids feeding cranes, but it’s not unusual for them to walk right up to your car hoping for a handout.

You’re not likely to forget a close encounter with a Sandhill Crane. Statuesque at 4 feet tall, with leathery crimson skin on their faces and gray-and-brown feathers that fan out at the hips like a skirt, these birds are astonishing. Cranes are among the world’s oldest living birds and one of the planet’s most successful life forms, having outlasted millions of species. The Sandhill Cranes of North America have not changed appreciably in ten million years.

Continue Reading
1 comment
0 FacebookTwitterEmail
BirdingBirding and the AirstreamFeatured

Birding from the Flying Cloud: Aboard an Airstream, you’re already there.

by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal
written by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

Our birding base is an Airstream Flying Cloud. It’s what makes it possible to pursue this passion on our own terms. Forget waking up and driving to the woods to catch the dawn’s birdsong. We’re already there.

A campsite just outside Asheville, N.C.

On move day, here’s the routine: Pour coffee into a Stanley thermos, pull up stakes, crank up the truck and hit the road in search of the next scenic campground. The Flying Cloud follows along like a satisfied puppy on a leash.

We’ve situated ourselves beside a brook in the Virginia mountains where Louisiana Water Thrushes hopped from rock to rock. Goldfinches bathed farther upstream.

The scene on Ocracoke camping amid the sand dunes

One August afternoon we parked 10 yards from a lake on a rocky peninsula in New Hampshire. Before we could unload the chairs, we’d already noticed Brown Creepers scaling the surrounding pine trunks. (Another new bird for my Life List!)

Just beyond a primal sand dune on Ocracoke Island in Cape Hatteras National Seashore, Anders got photos of a Great Egret walking through a puddle near the bathhouse. (Cold showers only at Ocracoke, so hooray for the Airstream’s propane water heater.)

All of this splendor can be had for an average of $30 a night. You don’t get room service, but the camping life offers other perks. Anders wakes me up with a cup of coffee, and he often builds a campfire before a breakfast outdoors. No overpriced buffet, but even oatmeal tastes terrific with a touch of wafting wood smoke.

Camping beside a rushing stream in Southern New Hampshire

Continue Reading
0 comment
1 FacebookTwitterEmail
BirdingBirding researchFeaturedPhotography

Who delivers the Stork? Here’s a nursery like no other

by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal
written by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

There’s a rare birding phenomenon that happens every spring at Wakodahatchee Wetlands in Delray Beach, Florida. The 50-acre preserve turns into a full-fledged nursery, chock full of nests, eggs and chicks anxious for their next meal.

Baby Wood Stork

The unique thing about the Wakodahatchee Wetlands is access and diversity. You don’t even need binoculars or a telephoto lens to see the nesting Wood Storks, Great Blue Herons, Anhingas, Great Egrets, Green Herons and more.

You can stand under a shaded gazebo on a boardwalk 12 feet from the action. This is not a zoo, but it sure feels like one.

On two visits to Wakodahatchee in the past week, Anhinga chicks wrapped their necks around their moms’ so tightly it was hard to tell one from the other. Great Blue Heron babies are simply comical with oversized eyes and feathers like dandelion fluff. But it was the dozens of newly hatched Wood Storks who stole the show.

Storks feed their young by squirting “pre-digested” fish directly into their mouths. And when these downy chicks are hungry, everybody hears about it. Disproportionately large yellow beaks fling wide open, and you can even see their tiny tongues as they cry.

Great Blue Heron chick

Bawling Wood Stork chicks sound oddly like distressed human infants. When one starts up, they all join in. It’s loud, and just as things start to get obnoxious, the mother Stork reaches over with a long pink toe and strokes the baby. Ornithologists call this “comforting behavior” — pretty much what any good Mom would do.

Wood Storks breed for life, and at least one parent stands guard at all times to shade the chicks and sprinkle water over them if they need cooling off. They’ll also intervene if a Great Egret from a nearby nest happens to get too close.

Here’s a video that puts you in the middle of the action:

Continue Reading
0 comment
1 FacebookTwitterEmail
Bird of the Week

Paying respects to an under-appreciated bird: Yellow-rumped Warbler is a survivor

by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal
written by Beverly Mills Gyllenhaal

Of the 55 species in North America, the Yellow-rumped is probably the most abundant Warbler. It shows up all over the country at some point during the year and winters much farther north than most other Warblers do.

While the Yellow-rumped Warbler should be admired for its hardiness, adaptability and tenacity, it’s often under-appreciated in serious birding circles. Anders and I see so many that we just call them “Rumps” – as in, “Darn. It’s just a Rump.”

In an era of profound worry about habitat loss, climate change and the other perils so many birds face, we should be celebrating the only Warbler that’s able to digest the wax in bayberry fruit.

The ability to switch from eating insects to bayberries is key to the business of winter survival and allows Yellow-rumps to spend cold months in coastal areas as far north as Nova Scotia. Not having to migrate so far to find food contributes to the bird’s overall proliferation.

Continue Reading
0 comment
1 FacebookTwitterEmail