Eyes on the skies

Eyes on the Skies

by Beth Sullivan

Certain times of year I find it hard to keep up with all that is going on. Eyes on the ground to look for mushrooms, is one of my enjoyments during this season. But eyes on the sky right now seems to be the most exciting

This is migration time. Many shorebirds have already passed through, but the young of the year are later travelers. They gather in flocks on sandy shores, Napatree and Sandy Point in particular, and when they move as a flock and take to the sky, they are usually mesmerizing to watch as they circle, rise, and fall again to walk the sand and waterline.

The hawks are migrating now too. On those clear, blue, crisp September days ( of which we have had very few so far), when the wind is out of the north, look up and then look higher. Sometimes it takes a while for our eyes to focus so very high, that birds are small dots. But the hawks circle up each morning on rising warming air currents, then drift south, being helped along in an energy saving glide. Locally I see them usually singly, but on a good day they will stream constantly if you are in a good coastal spot to watch. There are other areas where the winds are perfect, and hawks gather in masses, called kettles, and swirl in large numbers, ever upward and southward.

The young broadwinged hawk still screeches to be fed, but soon will join on of the large kettles of this species headed south.

Red shouldered hawks may catch the thermal winds but many will stay here through the winter. Photograph by Rick Newton.

Dragonfly migration

While you are looking up, you may notice dragonflies on the move. Our largest species, the Darners, both green and blue in color, are as big as some small birds. Only these biggest ones stage a true migration to beat the cold. They will also follow the coast. Here they fly westward rather than always heading south over the Sound. They also seem to fly at a variety of heights, some so low you can almost hear them, but look higher and you can see them so high they begin to disappear from sight. Anywhere along their route they are fair game for migrating birds to grab and eat. The purple martins have generally left their nesting areas, but high-flying dragonflies make up a big part of their autumn diet.

The martins, as well as the other swallow species, are some of the most spectacular migrants as they stage themselves in preparation for their long migration to South America. All along the coast, over salt marshes and dunes, hundreds and thousands of swallows seem to gravitate to certain spots where they converge and swirl in spectacular formations, sometimes for a long period of time, before they suddenly settle into the vegetation. The lower Connecticut River is one of the most famous staging areas. I have witnessed it several times, but more recently, at our own little Dodge Paddock, a group of us witnessed a small but no less inspiring demonstration by a flock of a few hundred birds, some of which flew so close we could feel their wings push the air by us. They converged and swirled and settled into the bayberry bushes that are one of their main food sources now.

Dragonflies are important food sources for the purple martins during nesting season and on migration.

Darner dragonflies may look imposing but are harmless and quite beautiful.

Clouds of swallows swirl and fill the sky as they stage on the Connecticut River before roosting for the night.

Swallow at Dodge Paddock.  A smaller flock but still impressive. Photograph by DEEP.

Monarch butterflies head south

One of the most famous and easily witnessed migration miracles is put on by the beloved Monarch butterflies. The species has been terribly threatened from so many fronts: habitat loss in Mexico, their wintering grounds, and loss of habitat and milkweed food source here in the north. Herbicides and pesticides and invasive plants all play a part in the demise of the species. This year seemed to be a better year for them locally. Citizen science observers noted more caterpillars and more adult monarchs. People have been purposefully planting and cultivating milkweed species for them too. At this time of year, the last generation will be hatching. They will be fueling up for their journey south, and then west across the US, and then further south into Mexico to their historic and ancient wintering grounds. As they seek nectar plants, they often find the best sources along the coast as the goldenrods are in bloom. Find a place along the shore (coastal dunes and saltmarshes have the best goldenrod), and on one of those blue September days, just sit and watch. They will feed a while, then lift off lazily, rising sometimes so high to as to be out of sight, and with all the other species, begin to make their way south on the winds from the north.

Keep your eyes on the sky to wish them all well, and then start looking for the northern migrants to begin arriving here for the next season of change.

This newly hatched monarch fuels up on the abundant seaside goldenrod.

Photographs by Beth Sullivan unless otherwise indicated.

Coming and Going: Transitions

By Beth Sullivan

A couple of weeks ago, my hummingbirds left. Right on time- on the first or second of October. There are still flowers full of nectar, we haven’t had a frost yet, but the time and light was right and their migration began. For a few days the Downy Woodpeckers and curious Chickadees used the nectar feeder. Bird watchers in my area have noted this behavior over the last years and we wonder if it is a local learned behavior. These birds will stick around, but the hummingbird feeder has been brought in and cleaned for the winter.

I am always amazed at migrations. As a kid ( okay...and as an adult) I watched the timeless journeys of the large mammals in Africa, always in awe of the volume, mass and energy of the large herds. But I am even more in awe of the smaller creatures and their abilities.

As we lose our nectar-sippers, the insect-eaters are not far behind. While it is hard for us as lay people to know the difference between one Common Yellow Throat and another, science has been able to inform us that those that were born in our area are moving on, heading south, and those we may encounter now as we walk a wetland thicket are likely from more northern origins.

Goldfinches will be happy with wild seeds and birdfeeder offerings. Photo by Rick Newton.

Hummingbirds have fueled up and left the area.

Shorebirds, like this Yellowlegs, have an extended migration period.

More on the coast

Because we live on the coast, we have greater numbers of migrants. It is also known that most birds, especially the young of the year, migrate along the shore line. It might be a visual cue, maybe there is something atmospheric as well. But as they follow this Atlantic shore line, flying most frequently at night, they “drop out” each morning for their R&R in the coastal thickets and shrub lands. Hiking at places like Barn Island, Bluff Point, and Knox Preserve, or visiting off shore islands like Fishers Island or Block Island is a bird watcher’s heaven. Be on the look out for a great variety of fall warblers, thrushes, vireos, and others making their way south through this month.

Shore birds have mostly finished passing through here. The adult plovers, sandpipers, and other shore bird species leave their nesting areas in the far north well before their own young can fly. They also migrate along the shore line so local beaches are often alive with the small birds, picking through seaweed and resting up. Their young will follow up to a month later, usually following the same route, and often landing on the same beaches in South America as their parents. Bird banding studies have proven this, and now radio telemetry has made it even more accurate.

Flocks are forming

The Swallows are still massing before they roost every night, but that spectacle is nearly over. Our Martins left first, making their own flocks. In more southern areas, their roost flocks are so large that they show up on radar. The same occurs with the mixed flocks of Tree, Barn and Rough Winged Swallows that collect in marshes, most notably at the mouth of the CT River. Each evening they gather and swirl, and then settle to rest and ready themselves for their push southward.

From this, it sounds like we will be birdless shortly. Don’t despair. The sparrow numbers are already increasing in the grass lands. At Dodge Paddock, Knox Preserve, and Fennerswood, the weedy fields are full of chirp notes as they search for seeds. More northern finches will arrive and populate the thickets. It is time to bring out the seed and suet feeders. It is also time to think about Project Feeder Watch here, which gives us all an excuse to get out and look for the birds of Autumn.

The process of bird banding gives us greater insight into migrations. Photo by Rick Newton.

Nightly, thousands of swallow mass in preparation for their migration. 

Soon the Hooded Mergansers will arrive in local coves.

Sparrows are in abundance in local grassy fields.

Photographs by Beth Sullivan unless otherwise indicated.