2017, du og jeg var skuffede over hinanden

And that's before wind chill...

Bird of the year! Black-backed Woodpecker Picoides arcticus, Mont-Tremblant, July 31, 2017

American Woodcock Scolopax minor, Mount-Royal Cemetery, May 2, 2017

Gray Jay Perisoreus canadensis, Fôret Montmorency, February 26, 2017

Black-billed Cuckoo Coccyzus erythropthalmus, Mount-Royal Cemetery, June 29, 2017

Wood Thrush Hylocichla mustelina, Mont-Saint-Bruno, July 12, 2017

Saltmarsh Sparrow Ammodramus caudacutus, Sandy Neck, Cape Cod, June 19, 2017

  I was planning to get out and do a bird-sweep through the cemeteries today, to keep in line with a self-imposed New Year’s birding tradition I’ve stumbled into over the past few years (http://snowyowllost.blogspot.ca/2016/12/first-birds-of-old-year-part-i.html). Do something twice and it’s a tradition, innit. In light of the snot-freezingly, Tauntaun-slashingly frigid arctic air mass that has gripped the area with its mailed fist - I’m out. Personally, I could layer up and weather through it, but I’m not keen to subject my optics to a -30 torture test, just to check a box.
  2017 - what a year. It was the fastest year ever, and also the longest. Normally I’d say “I want that year back,” but eff that. Good riddance. There were some birding highlights though, which I will use to reassure myself that the year wasn’t a complete write-off. I got to really know not only the Mount-Royal Cemetery, but also the Notre-Dame-des-Neiges Cemetery. That less sexy of the two cemeteries gets overlooked by birders, but has some great little scraps of habitats tucked away. One of the year's biggest cemetery surprises was probably the American Woodcock I spotted there in the spring (and the ones glimpsed in fall!). Another recent cemetery highlight was crossing paths with some Red Crossbills in November. As was the case during my first experience with the species, I failed to capture an image, heh heh.
  I got a much better feel for the wood-warblers in the cemeteries, in both spring and fall plumages. I also saw my first Black-billed Cuckoos there, and figured out where they hung out all summer - even saw a juvenile, woo-hoo.
  I was lucky enough to go on some memorable birding trips, notably several with the McGill Students' Birding Club down in southwestern Québec, and also a trip up to Fôret Montmorency near Québec City, with its rock star Gray Jays and Boreal Chickadees.

  A July trip north of Montreal revealed a long-sought-after Black-backed Woodpecker – my bird of the year. My first Wood Thrush since the 80s was also a welcome summer sight, on a mountain south of the island. I picked up more long-awaited species on trip to Cape Cod in June, with Saltmarsh Sparrows standing out in my mind. Speaking at the Congrès QuébecOiseaux in October was also a real hoot.

  Where will 2018 lead? Well, if the coin-toss comes up in favour of continued human life on Earth (instead of thorough nuclear armageddon), then I’ll get outta Dodge. Wherever I end up, I’ll be carrying on with my wacky birding scribblings, and hopefully some more of it will get published. And I'll try to get out birding a few times.
  Be nice to one another.

Cape Cod - Part 3 (Craigville and Hyannis, June 18-20, 2017)

Herring River in Craigville

Craigville Beach

Laughing Gull in situ, Hyannis

Laughing Gull Leucocephalus atricilla

Herring Gull Larus argentatus

Willet Tringa semipalmata

Northern Mockingbird Mimus polyglottos

juvenile American Robin Turdus migratorius

juvenile Tufted Titmouse Baeolophus bicolour

Eastern Box Turtle Terrapene carolina carolina

Atlantic Horseshoe Crab Limulus polyphemus

  While staying in the Cape, I was based in the sleepy cottage country of Craigville, on the south coast. There were loads of fledglings about – Common Grackles being fed next to a creek, young American Robins harassing adult birds, Red-winged Blackbirds (including one freshly fledged bird that appeared to have some kind of grotesque avian conjunctivitis), and a family of Tufted Titmouse (Titmice?).
  I was jarred from slumber on two mornings by a rousing dawn chorus – first in was the song of an American Robin (at 4:15 on the nose), followed closely by the sounds of Mourning Dove, Eastern Phoebe, Red-eyed Vireo, Gray Catbird, Yellow Warbler, Baltimore Oriole, Northern Cardinal, Song Sparrow, Chipping Sparrow, several brief White-throated Sparrow phrases, House Finch, and American Goldfinch. A lovely racket, I wasn’t complaining.
  I checked in on the swampy (and tick-infested) area where the Herring River empties into Craigville Beach several times. An Eastern Box Turtle was a pleasant surprise there, as was a flyby by a pair of Mute Swans. Gray Catbirds were thick on the ground, and four local Ospreys patrolled over the swampy bits, regularly putting up several jumpy Willets. Other Craigville observations included a Green Heron, Ruby-throated Hummingbird, and Northern Mockingbird.
  Hyannis was passed through a few times, and it was there that I got my first looks at Laughing Gulls, Fish Crows, and Horseshoe Crabs. While driving through Hyannis, we passed a reedy pond where I saw/heard several fluttery Black Terns. Is that an odd record this time of year on the Cape? Who knows.

Cape Cod - Part 2 (Bass Hole and Monomoy National Wildlife Refuge, June 20, 2017)

Bass Hole boardwalk

Osprey nest at Bass Hole

Beach at Monomoy NWR

Osprey Pandion haliaetus

Laughing Gull Leucocephalus atricilla

'Orange-tailed' Cedar Waxwing Bombycilla cedrorum

Willet Tringa semipalmata

American Oystercatcher Haematopus palliatus

Common Tern Sterna hirundo (Buoys and gu...never mind...)

Northern Rough-winged Swallow Stelgidopteryx serripennis

Fish Crow Corvus ossifragus

  While on the road, a dart was thrown at a map, and it hit Bass Hole (Bass Hole!), so that ended up being the first birding stop on June 20. A pair of nesting Ospreys, an American Oystercatcher, and several noisy Willets were viewed from a long boardwalk. Being the eternal scopeless wonder, a raft of terns and gulls on a far-off sandbar remained uninvestigated and blobby. I regret nothiiiiiing!
  On an interesting note, I saw a Cedar Waxwing there with an orange tip to its tail, as opposed to the expected yellow. Apparently this happens in the northeastern US as a result of the birds eating an introduced species of honeysuckle berries. Neat-o.
  By the time we got to Monomoy National Wildlife Refuge (just south of Chatam, in Cape Cod’s southeastern armpit), the fog and wind had fully socked the place in, visibility was low, and most birds were keeping their heads down.
  Notable observations included a pair of Eastern Kingbirds on the dunes, several Willets probing for benthic organisms in the fog, four Common Terns dive-bombing for fish (no Roseates, boo-hoo), two Snowy Egrets, a nice close flyby from an American Oystercatcher, and good views, finally, of a vocalizing Fish Crow. Nuh-uh! Nuh-uh!
  At the sandy cliffs on the beach, a Northern Rough-winged Swallow got caught out by stiff winds, and it was incredible to watch its repeated aborted landing attempts and circle-rounds in the vicious gusts before a successful landing in its nest hole.
  Bass Hole!

Cape Cod - Part 1 (Sandy Neck, June 19, 2017)

Saltmarsh Sparrow Ammodramus caudacutus

Saltmarsh Sparrow Ammodramus caudacutus

Spot the Piping Plover chick! Hours of fun! (Scroll to the last image at the bottom for the answer...)

Piping Plover Charadrius melodus

Herring Gull Larus argentatus

Bonaparte’s Gull Chroicocephalus philadelphia

Least Tern Sternula antillarum

Least Tern Sternula antillarum

Diamondback Terrapin Malaclemys terrapin

My legs got sun-crisped a lively Nantucket red, to match my borrowed shorts

Habitat-o-rama: dunes on the left (with a beach beyond), saltmarsh on the right

Piping Plover chick

  I’ve just returned from a jaunt down to Cape Cod, and managed to sneak in some rewarding birding along the way. In preparation for the trip, I flicked through my Sibley and made up a ‘dream hit list’ of about 40 species that don’t often make it up Montreal way. By the time the fog had settled and I was on the road back north, I realized that I’d checked 11 lifers off that list! Badass.
  The most fruitful birding spot was Sandy Neck, which boasted a sensational mix of saltmarsh, dune, and beach habitats. The highlight there was superb close looks at a pair of Saltmarsh Sparrows. I had a string of frustrating brushes with Ammodramus sparrows along the saltmarsh trail, of the whack-a-mole-better-be-quick variety. Exasperated, and worried that I wouldn’t end up getting an ID-worthy look, I hunkered down at a promising spot by a small open pond, and let the birds come my way. After about ten minutes, they did just that (to my considerable surprise). Two cracking Saltmarsh Sparrows popped up, but instead of flopping straight back down again, they fluttered down onto a flat patch of dead grass, 15 feet in front of me. The encounter only lasted about ten seconds, but I won’t soon forget it – that is one spectacular species (and listed as "vulnerable" by the IUCN).
  Several Diamondback Terrapins were seen shuffling along the trails, and the park rangers were busy moving some of their nests to less precarious spots up the dunes.
  The walk towards the beach through the scrub and squooshy sand of the dunescape held its own little clique of birds: mewling Gray Catbirds, three Eastern Towhees, a Northern Mockingbird, and several Common Yellowthroats and Yellow Warblers, but sadly no Seaside Sparrows.
  On the beach, the whole area where dune meets sea level was roped off for nesting Piping Plovers, a "near threatened" species very susceptible to disturbance. Walking along the beach trail (accessible to walkers and 4WD vehicles alike), I came across an adult Piping Plover noisily leading me away from the roped-off bit, which hinted that there were chicks about. I spotted one standing immobile near the dunes, perfectly camouflaged, and quickly cleared off back towards to beach to give them their space. Another spectacular bird I’m not likely to see up here!
  Six delightful Least Terns squeaked and fluttered in the onshore winds, while handfuls of Herring and Greater Black-backed Gulls sulked on the waterline. Three Common Terns were also in the mix. Two Bonaparte’s Gulls were cavorting and wheeling low on the water, seeming to take pleasure in the act of flight.