HollerPhenology

A Tennessee warbler visits the holler

On May 11th this year, Merlin identified one of the birds singing near my house as a Tennessee warbler. I tried to locate it but, as often happens by that time of the year in the holler's woods, I couldn't see the bird for the leaves. Even though it's named for the state I live in, these warblers don't spend much time in Tennessee, so I felt fortunate to at least have caught one's song, my first ever.

Yesterday, I watched a couple of American goldfinches hunting for bugs on a giant ragweed plant not too far from my birding window. When they flew off, another bird landed on the plant. At first I thought it was another goldfinch but the size, color and feather patterns didn't quite fit. With field glasses I clearly saw a thin, pointy bill and obvious lack of white on this bird's wings. I quickly traded the binoculars for a camera and managed to get several photos as the bird moved up and down the plant, gleaning the stems and flowers.

Tennessee warbler (Leiothlypis peregrina), September 1, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Since I couldn't immediately identify the species, the photos gave me a chance to gather more field marks and narrow the choices. Before long, I'd settled on Tennessee warbler as the closest match, and then used Birds of the World, Merlin and other online resources to sort through similar species with all of their seasonal variations. I concluded that it was, indeed, my first visual experience of a Tennessee warbler in action.

Tennessee warbler (Leiothlypis peregrina) gleaning giant ragweed (Ambrosia trifida), September 1, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Once I had an identification, and just for the heck of it, I decided to check out the BirdCast site to see who'd been flying over the holler that past evening. The estimate for Campbell County, Tennessee was 1,240,400. Though Tennessee warblers did not show up in the species list, it gave me goosebumps to think about that many winged beings flying by while I was sleeping.

I'm seeing indigo buntings more often at my end of the holler this year

The first indigo bunting that I saw in the holler this year was a female that landed on some old milkweed stems in my planter garden.

Indigo bunting (Passerina cyanea) female, April 26, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

A few days later, I started seeing a male. He came back almost everyday in late afternoon, but I never caught sight of another female.

Indigo bunting (Passerina cyanea) male, April 30, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Adult indigo bunting (male) with a seed he found. June 26, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

On June 29th, I thought I spotted another adult female. A short time later, a male indigo bunting joined this bird and they foraged in the grass together. After a few minutes observing them, I noticed that the first bird was just kind of following the male around, occasionally opening its bill wide. When I got a good look through binoculars, it was clear that the bill I was seeing was that of a fledgling.

Adult indigo bunting dad introduces a fledgling to the planter garden and feeding areas of the yard, June 29, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

On that visit, the dad and his fledgling stayed in the taller grass at the edge of the yard. It was difficult to get a good photo.

Dad and fledgling return to forage on June 30, 2022.  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

The following day, however, the dad and fledgling returned and foraged in more open areas of the yard. I was able to get a photo of the fledgling getting a seed or two on its own as well as taking food offered by the parent.

Indigo fledgling finds some seeds on its own, June 30, 2022  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

The parent and fledgling continued to forage together every day for awhile. The young bird would often get here first, and some days -- for example, on July 4th -- it came several times without the parent.

Fledgling on the 4th of July, foraging on its own.  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

The fledgling on a white oak branch, July 4, 2022.  [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I haven't seen the younger bird now for several days, but an adult male indigo bunting has been here several times, usually early morning and late afternoon. This year was the first time I'd seen and identified an indigo bunting fledgling. I'm still hearing indigo songs out in the woods near the house and down in the flatter parts of the holler and my neighbors' fields.

Louisiana Waterthrush in the holler

A little more than a year ago I saw my first Louisiana waterthrush. It was grooming its feathers on a branch, easily identifiable with binoculars and almost beyond reach of the camera lens I was using at the time. I felt lucky to get any kind of usable image.

Louisiana waterthrush (Parkesia motacilla) on June 11, 2021. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

After my first sighting, I looked this species up at Birds of the World -- something I like to do for any bird I find in the holler -- to predict what my chances of seeing more of them might be.

Pretty much centered in the breeding range for Louisiana waterthrushes, the holler's natural features match a majority of those where these birds more frequently breed. It's hilly with closed-canopy mixed deciduous and evergreen forest, and has two high to medium gradient headwater streams running through it. Neither stream could be classified "perennial" but, in most years I've lived here, they'd have had plenty of water flowing during the waterthrush's peak breeding season. Not an exact match, but I thought I had a good chance of seeing them again.

Louisiana waterthrush, June 28, 2022. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Just a few days ago, I caught sight of one searching at the edge of the woods beyond my driveway and hanging around my planter garden, hunting and catching insects.

Louisiana waterthrush with an insect it caught, June 28, 2022. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Prior to this sighting, my Merlin app had suggested one might be around but I was unable to match my recording to any of the typical songs/calls. I've now seen and heard its calls every day since I saw it on June 28th. It's interesting to me that its appearance near the house coincided with a stretch of really dry weather during which the flow of both streams had slowed considerably, so I'm wondering if that's why it came in closer or if it was just branching out a bit.

Louisiana waterthrush near the planter garden yesterday, July 3, 2022. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Good photos of this individual have been hard to get. It seemed shy at first and would scurry for cover if it saw me at my bird-watch window. Now that it's coming closer, my imaging difficulties relate more to its speedy foraging style -- lots of blurry pictures to weed out.

Such an interesting bird. Makes me happy to hear and see it around the holler.

An eastern phoebe checks in for October Big Day in the holler

Most of yesterday I was online for a webinar and took a couple of breaks to squeeze in bird counts for eBird's October Big Day. I hadn't seen any phoebes in the holler for awhile. They aren't the flashiest birds around, but they have a quiet, elegant presence that never fails to warm my heart:

Eastern Phoebe, October 9, 2021 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

I usually see phoebes once or twice in October and sometimes November, then they disappear for a few months before they return to nest near my house in the spring. I checked my photo files and found this one from October 15, 2020:

Eastern Phoebe on October 15, 2020 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

During two observation periods yesterday, I saw nine different species: downy woodpeckers, tufted titmice, mourning doves, eastern blue jays, Carolina chickadees, white-breasted nuthatches, a rose-breasted grosbeak, Carolina wren, and the eastern phoebe. Eleven of the 30 individuals I saw over both sessions were mourning doves.

A female American redstart flew through the holler today!

Today I saw my first ever American redstart female and got my first photo of this species as well. Here she is:

American redstart (female) on May 12, 2021. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

A scarlet tanager visits the holler today!

I have seen scarlet tanagers in this general area occasionally, but not close to my house. Today a male tanager visited a suet feeder:

Scarlet Tanager (male), April 26, 2021 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Scarlet Tanager (male), 4/26/21 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Scarlet Tanager and Downy Woodpecker, 4/26/21 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Bird Love in the Holler

I observed courtship among holler birds beginning in mid-February this year -- first with northern cardinals, then doves and Carolina wrens -- but activity has intensified over the past few weeks.

My observations of breeding behavior among birds had been comparatively limited before I started maintaining feeders -- mainly songs, calls, and some phoebes and wrens that built nests close to my house. Yesterday, I managed to get photos of courtship feeding in pairs of cardinals and wrens.

When I saw a couple of Carolina wrens together on a porch step right outside my window, I fired the shutter as fast as I could, ending up with a few usable images. The first one below is the first one in the sequence, and shows what I think is the male of this pair feeding a small seed to his mate:

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

He then hopped down to find another seed. In the second photo, the female stands on the step with an open bill. At the bottom right edge of the image, you can see the male's bill and part of his head just before he hops back up to bring her another seed:

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

Later in the afternoon, a pair of northern cardinals engaged in the same behavior. In the photo below, the male has just given his mate a sunflower seed (visible in her beak):

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

At the same time, and a few branches up from the cardinals in the white oak tree, a pair of mourning doves sat near each other:

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

I couldn't tell if they were the same couple that sat on a post below one of the bird feeders on March 9th:

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

Or this pair in the same tree (and maybe the same branch!) on March 31st, just before an attempt to copulate (the photo I got of that was too out of focus to say for sure):

[Photo: Cathie Bird]

Late in the afternoon now, four to five pairs of doves come to feed together. Other species that have been around the feeders in larger numbers all winter seem to have spread out, and only one pair Carolina chickadees, cardinals and downy woodpeckers, along with two pairs of tufted titmice, continue to show up around the feeders every day.

 

A pine warbler returns to the holler

Pine Warbler on March 2, 2021. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I had just started today's eBird checklist when I saw a really yellow bird among the American gold finches. He found a few seeds on the ground under the feeders, and flew in and out of my view-shed at least twice, allowing me to get a couple of usable photos. This is the first warbler I've seen in the holler in 2021.

A tweet-storm of different species

I have some photos and stories about plants ready to compose but I face a major distraction: birds. Lots of birds. Different kinds of birds. Birds I've not seen here before. So first I'm going to do a post on what's flying, singing, eating and nesting in the holler this spring.

Indigo buntings have shown up in the holler every year -- usually late March or April -- since I moved here twenty years ago. For several years, now, goldfinches from open fields farther down the holler have been coming to feed on Echinacea fruits. Last year I added bird feeders around my planter garden, and they have attracted quite a few more goldfinches.

I bought a digital SLR camera last year specifically to catch more bird images. Here are some early photo results for indigo buntings and American goldfinches:

Indigo bunting -male on May 9, 2020. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Male goldfinch (left) and a female indigo bunting (right) on May 9, 2020. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

American goldfinch male, May 9, 2020. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

American goldfinch female, May 9, 2020. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Rose-breasted grosbeaks, a species I had never seen in the holler or anywhere else, showed up at my feeder on April 25th. First I saw a male and female. Since then, more have gotten brave enough to stop by -- as many as four females and three males so far. Here are some photos:

Male red-breasted grosbeak, May 9, 2020. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Female rose-breasted grosbeak, May 9, 2020. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I see Tufted titmice and Carolina wrens year round. Both species build nests and raise chicks near my house every year. The wren couple has not been around much in the past week. They often come together in the evening and groom, eat and play around my planter garden. Once a new batch of wrens has fledged they usually come to play as well.

Tufted titmouse, May 9, 2020. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

 

Carolina wren on May 5, 2020. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

In addition to the birds I've managed to photograph this spring, I've seen others at a distance and heard many more voices in the woods around my house: cardinals, eastern phoebes, blue jays, crows, wood thrushes, hooded warblers, white-eyed vireos, common yellowthroats, yellow-throated warblers, and some others I'm still working to identify. I'm pretty sure that at least one pair of northern cardinals is nesting nearby. A male phoebe has been around since January 27th but I don't think he's found a partner yet. The first ruby-throated hummingbird of 2020 -- a female -- came to my window on April 30th, the earliest I've seen one, I think. She came several days in a row after that, but I haven't seen her since May 3rd.

I love to take porch breaks to see who's around and hear the tweet-storm du jour!

Fall creeps into the holler

My holler walk with Shadow on 11/11/18 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Peak color for most of the trees in the holler happened around the 25th of October. With windy storm fronts moving through during the first week of November, many of the leaves came down. RedMaple2, for example, lost all remaining leaves --95% or more-- early on November 6th in a thunderstorm strong enough to wake me and my pets up at 3am.

As of today -- except for the Amur honeysuckle, forsythia, multiflora rose and the beech tree farther down the holler -- all the forbs, shrubs and trees I observe have lost 95% or more of their leaves.

The holler had a couple of light frosts that shriveled leaves up and down the lane. Out in my planters, however, the chives, lavender, foxglove, and a few of the bee balms still look good. Time for one final chive and lavender harvest, I think.

So, in terms of phenology observations and reporting, I'm pretty much down to noting phenophase shifts for 3-4 plants and watching for birds and animals that will be around the rest of this fall and winter. The quieter times in the holler gave me some space to think about what's happened since my last post, and to write a little about how things went for some of the plant species this season.

White avens (Geum canadense) on July 1, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I noticed tons of white avens (image above) in more places around the holler than I'd seen since I moved here. The same was true for orange coneflowers and common St. Johnswort (images below).

Orange coneflower (Rudbeckia fulgida) on July 13, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I hadn't seen much St. Johnswort the last 2-3 years. I'm still checking photos to decipher the species. On occasion I've observed Spotted St. Johnswort considered to be "rare" in terms of frequency in this part of Tennessee. If they come up in such perfusion next year, I need to get a better record of the tops and bottoms of the leaves, and clearer images of the flowers to help myself out on identification.

Common St. Johnswort (Hypericum perforatum) on July 13, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

A new arrival to my eyes this far up the holler is one of the dayflowers. I've seen these down near Terry Creek for many years, but not up here. The blue color of this flower is striking, but it only flowers for one day. Maybe I've just missed them. For now I've decided this one is the non-native Asiatic dayflower:

Asiatic dayflower (Commelina communis) on July 13, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Among the abundant populations around the house and the holler was Echinacea, leafy elephant's foot, orange jewelweed, and the smaller of the two purple aster species that grow here.

Mature fruit of Echinacea purpurea, some of which has been harvested by goldfinches. August 29, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Leafy elephant's foot (Elephantopus carolinianus) on September 3, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I try to mow around patches of Elephant's foot because it produces a thistle-like fruit that draws goldfinches, white-throated sparrows and other birds to the yard on cold, snowy days.

I observe two different jewelweed plants, both of which are in an area that receives less sunlight than when I began to track them. Compared to larger patches in a sunny area on the opposite side of the lane, the individuals I track did not produce as many buds, flowers or fruits this year.

Orange jewelweed (Impatiens capensis) on August 29, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

A year or so ago the utility company did a massive clearing of trees and brush around the power lines that run along State Route 297 from Pioneer to Jellico. Since then, populations of small purple asters have flourished. This summer there were tons of them to inspire jaw-drops and wows from me every time I drove to town. I even had some up here in the holler, but I photographed these growing at the end of Terry Creek Lane just before it intersects with TN297:

Small purple asters on October 9, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Plants having lower numbers than usual throughout the summer and early fall included white wood asters, lobelia, and goldenrod.

For example, this is about as good as things got for the wood aster I track. Before it could produce any buds, the leaves got holes in them, turned gray-brown and disappeared:

Initial and first leaves of a white wood aster (Aster divaricatus) on July 1, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

On November 5th, however, I happened to catch activity of a relative just a few feet away, on the other side of the tree from WoodAster1:

White wood aster (Aster divaricatus) on November 5, 2018 [Photo: Cathie Bird]

The wood aster a few inches away from this flowering one already had mature fruit:

Aster divaricatus on November 5, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

So many factors impact the lives of each individual forb, shrub or tree -- a good reason to track more than one plant of the same species.

Great blue lobelias were also missing in the holler this season. I love these plants. They are photogenic and often have an interesting mix of little bugs and pollinators crawling around on them (though this one didn't have any on the day I walked by):

Great blue lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica) on October 9, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Didn't see as much goldenrod this year, either, and most of what I saw -- at least around the holler -- was early goldenrod:

Early goldenrod (Solidago juncea) on August 29, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

Some of the other plant stories of 2018 that I'd classify under "kind of weird": I didn't see as much heath aster in the holler, and the one I finally spotted was a volunteer in one of my planters. By the time this species starts to come up, they are already surrounded by a lot of other plants, making initial leaves hard to see. In fact I almost pulled initial leaves of this aster out because I thought it was a weed. As it continued to grow, I didn't really notice its distinctive narrow, pointed leaves because they blended in with the little snapdragons that were supposed to be the only residents of that planter. I didn't figure out I had a white heath aster in there until it made flowers:

White heath aster (Aster pilosus) in the planter on September 29, 2018. [Photo: Cathie Bird]

I finally located the real HeathAster1 after it grew taller than the surrounding Echinaceas and the bright white flowers caught my eye. It did not produce a lot of leaves or flowers this year though. I wondered if it had to spend most of its energy reserves just to get up out of the Echinaceas.

And one final weirdness: the mapleleaf viburnams had a tough year for some reason. I track only one of this species, but new viburnams in its neighborhood have been increasing yearly since I began observing them, seeming to do very well. This year, the only one to get all the way to the flowering phenophase was the plant next to the one I track, and it never made fruits.

As the holler slides deeper into fall and winter, I'm thinking about future posts for the slower observation season. I have expanded my Phenology Album at Flickr. In my next post -- unless something unexpected emerges -- I decided to gather images of my Nature's Notebook observation area and its neighboring landscapes to share more of a "whole holler" background for blog posts on species I observe.