Pelee Melee

Rusty Blackbird Euphagus carolinus

Belted Kingfisher Megaceryle alcyon

Belted Kingfisher Megaceryle alcyon

Belted Kingfisher Megaceryle alcyon

Ruby-throated Hummingbird Archilochus colubris

Ruby-throated Hummingbird Archilochus colubris
(oddly-marked about the head, I thought)

Palm Warbler Setophaga palmarum

Hermit Thrush Catharus guttatus

Sanderling Calidris alba with
Ring-billed Gull Larus delawarensis

Lesser Black-backed Gulls Larus fuscus
(and friends)

Monarch Danaus plexippus

Woodland Nature Trail

The Tip

I was briefly the southernmost person in mainland Canada

The Zissou, at the Tip

Dan tries The Zissou

The Marsh Boardwalk

Point Pelee National Park, Ontario, September 26, 2022

  Dan and I have been planning to go to Point Pelee together for a very long time. We most recently had a trip planned and booked in 2016, but it was scuppered at the last minute. So when Dan got access to his brother’s fancy car and some time off, we jumped on the opportunity. Life is short, after all. The trip wasn’t solely a birding trip, as there were many side quests to complete, but Pelee was the destination, in my mind. We only had a day there, which was definitely not enough. While I felt like I could have birded for weeks there, it was awesome to finally get a feel for the legendary birding location. There will definitely be a return trip at some point.

  The morning started off slowly in the Woodland Nature Trail at dawn, with faint calls from reticent birds barely audible over the deafening winds. Things picked up when we turned back north and got into some of the swampier, more open bits.

  Among the Spotted Touch-me-nots, we had an oddly-marked Ruby-throated Hummingbird. It had white markings on its forehead, and a dark stripe in the middle of its throat. I’m guessing the white was possibly pollen, and the throat markings were just some vestigial breeding plumage.

  The next spot we birded was the Tip, which we reached via a train-truck shuttle thing. It was neat to be the southernmost human in mainland Canada, if only for a few moments. The wind at the Tip was a marvellous, brutal, soul-cleansing onslaught, and it was hard to stand up straight against its power.

  Several Lesser Black-backed Gulls were seen tucked in among the more common gulls there, a long-awaited lifer. Sanderlings darted between the roosting gulls, using them for shelter from the wind. There were thin warbler ripples at the Sparrow Field Footpath, and back along the beach. Monarchs were found clumped up on trees at the Tip, clinging on tenaciously with their powerful little…feet? Paws? Talons?

  The last spot we birded at Pelee was the Marsh Boardwalk. At the boardwalk’s conclusion, we ran into a small squadron of Rusty Blackbirds. We got great looks at the much-declining species, as they skulked in the low vegetation. Lovely birds.

  Near the parking lot at the marsh, I had the misfortune of encountering the rudest birder ever. As we crossed paths, I quietly gave her a standard birder greeting: “See anything interesting this morning?” She hissed “BIRDS!” at me, then turned away like I’d slapped her, made some confusing and dismissive arm gestures at me, then loped away in a huff. Maybe I ran into a famous ‘local character,’ who knows.

  The Pelee day ended with 57-ish species (9 warbler sp.), and a vow to return.

Writings of late

  I still haven't been birding much this summer. Shame on me. Been writing a lot. Still cranking out 'slow-lit' stories for Bettersleep, and of course I always manage to slip birds into the stories somehow.

  A 5,000-word 'slice' of a novel I wrote was also recently published, by Novel Slices, of course. The novel, titled The War of the Buntings, is a 125,000-word mess, if I'm honest. Well, some of it is a mess. There are three storylines, all set in Korea, where perhaps two storylines would have been a more attainable goal for an attempt at a first novel. Anyway, I managed to put together 5,000 decent words, and was able to fool them, ha ha.

  One of the storylines in The War of the Buntings involves clans of talking birds going to war with one another, the idea for which came from one of my published short stories.

  I've also been putting a lot of time into a writing project that has nothing to do with birds.

  I'll go birding soon, I swear. It'd be cool to spend the whole winter birding in Korea. One can dream.

Invertebrate photo dump

Northern Crescent Phyciodes cocyta

Monarch Danaus plexippus

Monarch Danaus plexippus

Canadian Tiger Swallowtail Papilio canadensis

Southern Cloudywing Thorybes bathyllus

Silver-spotted Skipper Epargyreus clarus

European Gypsy Moth Lymantria dispar dispar

Twelve-spotted Skimmer Libellula pulchella

Bald-faced Hornet Dolichovespula maculata

American Carrion Beetle Necrophila americana

Japanese Beetle Popillia japonica (invasive)

Soldier Beetle sp.

  Haven't been birding much this summer. So here are some crawlies and flutterers from...last summer! Huh?

Down by the Baie

Ruddy Duck Oxyura jamaicensis

Muskrat...I mean Ruddy Duck

Redhead Aythya americana

Northern Shoveler Anas clypeata

Ring-necked Duck Aythya collaris

Gadwall Anas strepera

Black Tern Chlidonias niger

Black Tern Chlidonias niger

Just a Black Tern doing Black Tern things

Caspian Tern Hydroprogne caspia
(Honestly...)

Tree Swallow Tachycineta bicolor

Young, confusing Tree Swallows - change my mind!
The ruddy one on the left is weird, for sure...

Young Tree Swallows show a faint
(Bank Swallow-esque) breast band and a white throat...

Common Gallinule Gallinula galeata

Marbled Godwit Limosa fedoa

(Note the Marsh Wren song at 0:04)

Baie-du-Febvre, June 20, 2022

  Drove out Baie-de-Febvre on the weekend with Lead-foot George and Raf, in search of a couple of rare shorebirds. The bird of the day for me was the surprise Ruddy Duck at the water treatment pond. I guess I’d never seen a male in breeding plumage like that, but I was blown away. That’s a helluvan amazing Technicolor dream-bird. It reminded me of a Muskrat when it dove. It was also a treat to get close looks at some of the other waterfowl that had assembled there, including Redhead, Northern Shoveler, and Ring-necked Duck.

  Some young hirundines preening on a roof showed an interesting variety of confusing plumages, from a Bank Swallow-esque dark breast band, to decidedly Barn Swallowy rusty underparts (Pretty sure some folks were mistakenly listing Bank Swallows on eBird because of these birds). Online, it was suggested they were young Rough-winged Swallows. OK…then why do they both have white throats? I believe them to be young Tree Swallows. Why is one of them rusty? Couldn’t tell you. If you have an alternate ID for these birds, please leave a comment.

  The target rarities were almost an afterthought, in my mind. The Black-necked Stilt was just a blurry fever dream, shimmering on the horizon through the scope. The Marbled Godwit was cool to watch, as it strutted through a flooded farm field at a leisurely pace.

  To add fuel to George’s contention that I don’t know how to use my camera, I did make a notable gaffe when it came time to get a pic of the Marbled Godwit. I tried to photograph the full moon the other night, and I left my settings on…’nocturnal.’ I was so dozy when it came time to prepare my camera bag for the trip, I forgot to check the settings. So the record shots of the Marbled Godwit came out more like police artist’s sketches than photos. Oh well, I’m no photographer, never claimed to be.

  As always, I enjoyed watching terns in action. It was mostly Black Terns, swooping the swamps, as well as a distant Caspian Tern out by the trailer park area. Terns out I probably captured a ridiculous 4-pixel-wide image of a Bonaparte's Gull in the background of one of the Caspian Tern record shots. The day ended with 59 or so species, and one moving violation.

Dickcissel Twitch

Dickcissel Spiza americana

  What did you just say?

  Drove out east towards the townships for a Saturday twitch with George. In the lovely, sunlit uplands near Dunham, a lone male Dickcissel sang for a mate that will never arrive. Kind of sad, actually.

  So, where did the name come from, you may ask? From its song, apparently. Dick dick dick…cissel? Anyway, the first few notes sounded like Song Sparrow to my ear.

  Dickcissel, yay!