A Good Night and Good Night-Birds

This is the last post about our trip up to the Biggest Week in American Birding (BWIAB) festival. So I thought I would talk about good night-birds, and a good night birding,

One group of birds that I was not expecting to see much at the festival was birds of the night. [Also emus since they don't live anywhere near Ohio.] Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised that we ended up seeing 5 species of birds that are nocturnal.

One of the tours that we signed up for was a woodcock walk at dusk, so we were hopeful of seeing a woodcock. I've been out looking for woodcocks a few times in the past and never succeeded in seeing their aerial display.  I was prepared for us to either not see any birds or the display would be distant and infrequent.

Our woodcock group met up with a couple of guides shortly before sunset. One of the guides told us that the displays had been going on the last couple of nights so he had high hopes. The bird that had been displaying near our spot was showing up as the very last of rays of sunlight vanished. So we had time for the guide to regale us with his guiding stories. 

As the guide was talking, a group of about five wood ducks flew pasts us just above the tree height. The guide paused and pointed them out then returned to his story. Then a few more ducks flew past. And then more. And more. And more just kept coming... By the end of the story, a whopping total of 56 wood ducks had flown past us. 

Finally the time had come to go in search of the woodcock. Our excited group followed the guides out of the lot and down the road to a mowed path. At the far end of the path a few other birders had set up chairs and cameras. We stood there and waited for what the guide had described: at some point, the woodcock would fly in and settle on the short grass, then launch itself up into the air, fly high overhead in a spiraling pattern and then drop back down, all the while making a peenting sound. 

"There it is" someone called out. And sure enough, on the far slope of the path was a dark ball with a big stick out the side. That really is a good description of woodcocks, especially when seen in failing light. They have short legs and a round body. They are shorebirds that don't really like water but do have the long, probing bill which they use in the soft ground of woodlands. When resting, the bill extends out at 45 degrees and almost touches the ground. Even with all of us looking for it, the bird had dropped in unseen. We don't know how long it was on the ground before it was spotted. After a minute or so, it just vanished. We could hear the faint peenting from up above so people started searching the sky, but nobody saw it until BAM it was back on the ground. Again, after a minute's rest or so it was off faster than anyone could see. Listening carefully I could follow that it was spiraling around somewhere above but had no luck picking it out in the dark sky. Then things fell quiet and BAM, back on the ground. It took off and landed so quickly that even if we were looking in the right place at the right time, it seemed to just disappear and appear. After a few display flights, a female stopped by for a look. She didn't seem impressed and moved on after a few cycles. But the male kept on displaying. 

This gave us a chance to develop a watching technique. The woodcock was taking off in the same general direction every time so I would watch the treetops a little to the right of where the bird was sitting. Then I could see the streak against the sky as he flew up. Watching carefully with binoculars, I would follow him trying to keep him in the center of the binocular view. This allowed me a little reaction time when he veers off in one direction or the other in the spiraling flight. If I lost sight through the binoculars, there was no chance of refinding him and I'd have to wait until the next display. I never saw a whole display, generally losing track about a third to halfway through the flight, when it was directly overhead. The experience of seeing the woodcock display lived up to all my hopes.

Eastern screech-owl

When in the right place and time, owls are pretty easy to hear at night. They are much harder to see. So when an owl is spotted during the day, it draws a crowd. As we were starting our walk on the boardwalk at Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge, we encountered a group of half-a-dozen people, staring up high into the tree. With a little help, my wife and I were able to find the Eastern screech-owl sitting hidden among the branches. I was not expecting to find an owl on the trip and if we found one, a screech-owl wasn’t high on my expected list. This was a great find and I’m happy for the people willing to share their excitement and show us the bird.

About an hour later we came across a few more people standing and talking with a spotting scope and camera trained up into the trees. Their behavior suggested they were looking at something stationary and not a small bird moving around feeding. The likely candidate was another owl. Sure enough, they were focused on a young barred owl. Again, they happily directed us to the bird. This one was more out on a branch but much further off the trail than the screech-owl. Easier to see once I was lined up with the gaps in the nearby tree. It is so cute in its scruffy white plumage. Barred owls, like many large birds of prey, nest in late winter so their young have 8-9 months to fatten up and learn to hunt before the cold winter sets in.

We returned to Ottawa a few days later for one of our guided tours and both owls were still in the their same locations. In fact, I was pretty sure they were in the same posture. I hope we hadn’t been caught by a birding trick of sticking a stuffed owl up in a distant tree.  [No, I’ve never heard of anyone actually doing that.]

Juvenile barred owl 

The two real surprises of nocturnal birds were found at Magee Marsh. During our first walk on the famed boardwalk, in among all of the amazing warblers, there was a crowd apparently watching a pile of sticks. We asked someone what was the draw and they pointed us to a bump on a log that was a resting Eastern whip-poor-will. You may have heard their three-syllable whip-poor-will call, echoing through the forest on spring and summer nights, but they are heard much more often than seen.  This is one of the sightings that made us realize how special Magee Marsh is. Here is a camouflaged, night-time bird sitting just 25 feet away from us finding refuge on this little strip of land before heading across the open waters of Lake Erie. And maybe it is only that  there were hundreds of people walking by that allowed someone to spot it. But due to the friendliness of birders passing the sighting on, it seems most people who came by on Tuesday got a chance to see this unusual bird.

Eastern whip-poor-will having a rest

Common nighthawk on the branch

The next day during the fall-out we walked one of the trails at Magee Marsh in the morning. The trail was busy and we bounced from one group to the next inquiring about what they were seeing. Everyone was happy to share their sightings and we saw a lot of cool birds this way. We also kept an eye out for other movement and added a good handful to what was being seen and shared. Near the end of the trail someone pointed out another bump on a branch they claimed was a bird. Sure enough, there sat a common nighthawk snuggled against the branch. Their job done, that person walked on in search of other birds. We studied and photographed it for a couple of minutes, until the next group came through, a woman with her two college-age daughters, and we pointed out the nighthawk to them. Two of them quickly saw it while the other struggled. This isn’t uncommon when trying to point out a bird to someone else. It took a few minutes and help from all of us before she finally saw the bird. But the effort was worth the reward for both her and the rest of us.  

Near the nighthawk was a tree cavity with a raccoon family in it. The first day we were by we saw an adult and several young hunkered down in the hole. Today, at least one of the young was very active and mom kept grabbing it in her mouth to keep it inside. They drew as large of a crowd as any of the birds on the trail. It was a really cute view into the lives of a mammal that tends to be active in the night.

Momma raccoon keeping her babies safe and secure

And with these night creatures, I say Goodnight to the festival. I hope you have enjoyed these stories and will stick around for other nature adventures here on The Heron Files in the coming weeks.