"Well, spring sprang. We've had our state of grace and our little gift of sanctioned madness, courtesy of Mother Nature. Thanks, Gaia. Much obliged. I guess it's time to get back to that daily routine of living we like to call normal."
― David Assael
Never!
The last of the boreal-bound warblers are moving through southern Wisconsin. Early this morning I set out via bicycle in the rain to search for Connecticut Warblers. Well, I found one. Naturally, it was at the furthest and northernmost end of my 5-mile route, along an edge of habitat I seldom ever check during spring migration ― what luck!
So, adding a CONW face for the 23rd, here's my all-time record for my patch:
A sure sign that migration is beginning to wane is the cacophonous Tennessee Warbler calls, punctuated by occasional softer and diminutive TSEE-TSEe-TSee-Tse-tse Blackpoll Warbler songs. Numerous American Redstarts and Yellow Warblers are establishing territories throughout Pheasant Branch ― loud voices to be sure, but not like the Tennessee's. Though warbler songs stand out to my ear, pausing to listen reveals Red-eyed vireo, Indigo Bunting, Baltimore Oriole, Wood Thrush, Gray Catbird, American Robin, and a dozen or two other avian songs of the woods.
The ubiquitous Eastern Wood-Pewee can now be heard in just about every corner of the woods, too. Their songs will grace the dense jungle-like creek corridor until late September. Do you remember some people experienced depression after watching the movie Avatar? Some were even suicidal at the notion of being unable to visit a utopian alien planet. Aren't pewees good enough?
But seriously ... just look at this place!
Well, so there isn't as much (if any) bioluminescent flora and fauna. But still, it's just fantastically gorgeous. These photographs were taken during one of my Connecticut Warbler excursions a couple of days ago. Two birders reported finding one in this particular area, but I was a day late. Seldom is it ever the case that one of these birds spends the night along the creek corridor ― one and done, and off they go. I thought perhaps I would miss it this year.
Swainson's Thrushes (perhaps soon to be woke-named) moved through in high numbers rather late this migration. Typically, I think of this species as more of a second week of May bird, but the past few days I've observed a substantial uptick in their numbers and ethereal songs. If all of the eponymous-named birds are descriptively renamed so as not to cause harm, I may just refer to such species by their Latin names: "Did everyone get on the Catharus ustulatus?" Ustulatus is Latin for burnt, so perhaps it'll be renamed to Burnt Thrush.
Or perhaps White-bellied Buffy-faced Spotted Brown Boreal Forest Thrush will suffice.
Obligatory tiger beetle content (Big Sand Tiger Beetle):
Coming back from a day trip to Baxter's Hollow with my friend Catherine, I showed her the tiger beetle habitat where there were Big Sand, Festive, and Bronzed Tiger Beetles. Nearby, I helped her see what might be her lifer Vesper Sparrow. She wasn't entirely sure, but did we ever get good looks at one of them perched just off the side of the road.
Well, what now? Well, I suspect trips to Wyalusing for Kentucky and Yellow-throated Warblers, and then perhaps Pine Glen for Worm-eating, and then ... and then ... Prairie? Kirtland's? We'll just have to see. It's conceivable that a 37 Repeat could be in the cards. To be sure, I'll be spending time with late spring birds and tiger beetles. Summer isn't too far off, and the daylight hours already begin to diminish in less than a month. It all goes by too quickly, doesn't it?
All images © 2021 Mike McDowell