My Spring Amongst the Night-Herons- Part 3

Part 3- Migration

John W. Garbutt- Class of 2019

“Sometimes I don’t. If I like a moment, for me, personally, I don’t like to have the distraction of the camera. I just want to stay in it.”- Sean O’ Connell- The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

As April ended, storms were cancelling plans to travel with my sister to the Texas coast for migration, yet ultimately, weather is the biggest factor on being able to see migrants. Storms hit our area the night of the 27^th and into the following morning. Despite the thunder, lightning, and rain, I headed to the wooded area to check on the heron and hawk nests, and to seek shelter from the elements as the storm was to be over soon.

Wind and storms dictate when and where migratory songbirds end their nightly migration flights. During the day, strong winds can push neotropical migrants further inland upon mid-afternoon arrival at the coast. Some birds, bypassing the coast, continue north searching for the most appetizing green space or until nightfall ends this leg of their journey. Once inland, the migrants continue their journey north, nearly every night, as the weather and winds allow. A good time to look for migrants in our area is during the peak migration push over the last week of April through the first week of May, and especially when a storm sets birds down overnight.

The rain had ceased, and my nests survey was complete. I was wet and had heard no calls or sounds alerting me to the presence of migrating birds. I started thinking of heading home but not without another pass or two through some good viewing areas. 

The first wave came to my attention as I heard the familiar titmouse, a local guide of sorts for our travel weary warblers. Migrants tend to flock with the resident titmice and chickadees, finding safety in numbers as they voraciously refuel for the next leg of their journey. Nashvilles, Black-and-whites, a Tennessee, Yellows, and Black-throated Green Warblers appeared before me. Blue-headed and Red-eyed Vireos sang above. Then a singular sighting of the male Magnolia Warbler: its bold black mask with white markings above and below the eye, highlighted with a bright yellow throat and chest, streaked with black stripes. It is such a stunning bird. It was Christmas tree adorned with warblers and vireos.

Next, the fiery orange head and throat of a male Blackburnian poked through the outer cluster of leaves. I know I may only see one a year if I am lucky. With a gray sky above and green backdrop, the brilliant orange, yellow, black, and white plumage stood out in ways these words can’t describe. My heart raced as I attempted to get a closer view through my binoculars knowing that in any moment it might be gone. It is a moment that produced a smile of purest joy on my face knowing most likely it could be the only time to see my favorite two warblers this migration.

There were also Wilson’s Warblers, Common Yellowthroats, and a Chestnut-sided Warbler. Gray Catbirds picked any edible fruit they could locate while a Yellow-breasted Chat appeared at the top of a clump of trees in a meadow. An Olive-sided Flycatcher hawked insects from the high barren perch above. An Orchard Oriole quickly moved through an open area seeking cover. Overlooking the pond, a female Rose-breasted Grosbeak called. Chipping and Lark Sparrows foraged in the grassy area out front as White-crowned Sparrows, a species that winters in our area but are rarely in the park, were plentiful along the edges. I have no photos of these birds, only the moment I stayed in as long as possible.

The following day, though not as bountiful, was full of migrants. My only American Restart and Bay-breasted Warbler were added at this time. I later reflected on this year’s migration. There was no trip to High Island and only these two days locally that really felt like a full rich migration day compared to other years. I felt as if I missed migration this year. Despite this feeling, I cherished the special moments with the Magnolia and Blackburnian.

“And in the lonely cool before dawn
You hear their engines roaring on
But when you get to the porch they’re gone on the wind”

Bruce Springsteen- Thunder Road