Beth Graham

Fish Crow @ AllAboutBirds.org

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 17:06:00 +0000

I'm thrilled to see that the Cornell Lab of Ornithology is using another one of my photos on their website, AllAboutBirds.org.

It's this photo of a Fish Crow that I took a couple of years ago at Marlton Park here in Woodstown.

Here's the link @ All About Birds.

The Greatest Show on Earth

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 23:07:00 +0000

The latest video by Symphony of Science, on Evolution, featuring David Attenborough, Richard Dawkins & Bill Nye.

Eagle & Osprey Nests

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 21:23:00 +0000

What I Know:

where Bald Eagles will typically build nests
where Ospreys will typically build nests
Bald Eagles will steal Osprey nests
Ospreys will steal Bald Eagle nests
there are exceptions to almost every rule
Bald Eagles will snatch a young Osprey out of a nest for lunch
Bald Eagles are very territorial
Ospreys will nest in "colonies"

What I Do Not Know:

Will Ospreys and Eagles share a nest? Meaning, will they "take turns" with it? Basically, stealing it back from each other?

I guess I may not find out until next summer. Once the eagles leave, will the Ospreys show interest in the nest again? Will the eagles stay in the area and remain territorial?

Big Nester

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 20:43:00 +0000

Anyone who is familiar with Mannington, New Jersey, is most likely familiar with this nesting site.

I guess it's safe to say that Ospreys aren't nesting here anymore. Or are they?

Is this this eagle's first year nesting at this site?

Furthermore, I want to know: Will Ospreys and Bald Eagles share nests?

I'm off to google.

Snowy Owl Invasion

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 22:25:00 +0000

Here is a short documentary on what drives Snowy Owls south.

My Top Reasons for Participating in the Christmas Bird Count

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 23:30:00 +0000

It's nearing that time of year. I've been so anxious and ready to get out for the Christmas Bird Count. But why?

I've been thinking, what makes the Christmas Bird Count so much fun? Why do I bother at all to do it?

So, I thought up a list, and here it goes:

My top reasons for participating in the Christmas Bird Count:

1) Well, the most important reason for the CBC is the contribution made to bird & wildlife conservation. "Citizen Science": To make a difference! We're not just counting birds for the sake of counting birds. The data collected is assessed and used to follow trends in bird populations, etc, etc. I won't go into all the details. For more information on how the data is collected and used, the history of the CBC, how to participate and all that, go to http://birds.audubon.org/cbc .

2) I see different birds. For most of the counts I participate in, I hit areas that I don't usually go (different habitat). So, considering the length of time I'm out and that I'm in areas that are out of my usual zone, I sometimes get to see birds that I may not always get to see.

3) I see other wildlife. Just because my goal is to look for and count birds, it doesn't mean that I can't enjoy the other wildlife that I may be lucky enough to come across.

4) I enjoy the winter scenery. Going to different areas, I can not only have the opportunity to see other birds and wildlife, but also different natural scenery... which leads to a greater appreciation of our natural world.

5) I learn new things about birds. No matter how highly qualified you think you may be at identifying birds, there is always something new to be seen and learned. Birding is a challenge.

6) There are plenty of photo opportunities. Whenever I go out, I always have my camera strung around my neck. You never know when you're going to have that once-in-a-lifetime moment. Of course, even with a camera in hand, that moment can be missed!

7) This is the second most important reason for getting out for the CBC. You get to be with friends. Birding with friends is more fun than birding alone. And counting birds is easier with friends, than it is doing it alone!

Red-bellied Woodpecker, Woodstown, NJ, December, 2009.

Three Little Birds

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sun, 04 Dec 2011 20:19:00 +0000

Recent pictures of some little birds I saw in Gloucester County, taken Thanksgiving Weekend.

Carolina Chickadee

Song Sparrow

White-throated Sparrow

Where are the Purple Martins?

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 18:42:00 +0000

Purple Martins left New Jersey months ago. But where are they by now? Some warm, insect-filled forest in Central America? Or roosting in an oil refinery in Brazil?

I've stumbled upon this short video of David Attenborough discussing some of the Purple Martin's winter roosting and summer nesting habits.

Bird Songs

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 22:13:00 +0000

"And above, in the light
of the star-lit night,
Swift birds of passage wing their flight
Through the dewy atmosphere."
from Birds of Passage by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It seems like there are countless poems in which birds are the topic of, or are mentioned in.

The other day I heard Kate Wolf's song Redtail Hawk. And it got me to thinking; How many songs are there in which birds are the topic of, or are mentioned in?

It was easier than I thought it would be to think up some (famous and not-so famous) songs about birds....or at least songs which mention birds.

If you share my taste in music, you're most likely familiar with:

Fly Like an Eagle by Steve Miller Band
Bluebird by Buffalo Springfield
Blackbird by The Beatles
Sparrow by Simon & Garfunkel
Three Little Birds by Bob Marley & the Wailers.

Just to name a few.

Or maybe we can combine poetry with song, like Alan Parsons Project did with their rendition of Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven.

Here is a favorite song of mine (especially to listen to this time of year) which mentions a bird.

"Now the warriors of winter
they give a cold triumphant shout
And all that stays is dying,
all that lives is getting out.

See the geese in chevron flight
flapping and a-racing on before the snow
They've got the urge for going,
and they've got the wings so they can go."
from Joni Mitchell's Urge for Going

But maybe you'd rather listen to something a little more contemporary and explicit. I Like Birds by Eels.

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 19:33:00 +0000

The Amazing Intelligence of Crows

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sat, 22 May 2010 00:38:00 +0000

Black Vulture

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sun, 09 May 2010 23:23:00 +0000

This morning, I spotted this Black Vulture feeding on (what appears to be) a groundhog, along the side of the road.

Fort Mott on Mother's Day

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sun, 09 May 2010 23:01:00 +0000

Much to my surprise, my boss scheduled all mothers off for Mother's Day. So, Saturday night I had to quickly think up how I wanted to spend my Sunday. Well, it definitely had to start off with a bird walk. I was wishing to have a day off in May, so that I won't miss some of the migratory birds moving through. My wish came true.

But it can be maddening trying to figure out those birdsongs. After awhile you just have to give up and move on. Not before, of course, taking a few (poor quality, to help) photos and videos to post on flickr, in hopes that someone somewhere somehow will see it and help with ID'ing. Yes, if you would, click on my flickr link just to the left there and take a look and listen.

A guided walk was to start at 7 am at Parvin. Sounded like a good idea, but for convenience's sake, I decided on Fort Mott. On my way there, I drove through Mannington. There had to have been about 300 + Laughing Gulls (in 2 separate flocks) in the fields surrounding Mannington Lake.

Before leaving Pennsville, I stopped by Supawna Meadows to have a quick look. I saw and heard much of the same birds. Adding Yellow Warbler to my list of birds for the day.

Here are some photos I took at Fort Mott, followed by a list of all birds seen/heard...from my drive from Woodstown to Pennsville. With the exception of some warblers that I could not identify by song...and could not locate in the trees.

Double-crested Cormorant
Great Blue Heron
Great Egret
Canada Goose (with goslings)
Turkey Vulture
Black Vulture
Red-tailed Hawk
Osprey
Wild Turkey
Killdeer
Ring-billed Gull
Laughing Gull
Mourning Dove
Red-bellied Woodpecker
Downy Woodpecker
Eastern Kingbird
Great Crested Flycatcher
Eastern Wood-Pewee
Barn Swallow
Tree Swallow
Carolina Chickadee
Tufted Titmouse
House Wren
Carolina Wren
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
American Robin
Brown Thrasher
Northern Mockingbird
Gray Catbird
Blue Jay
Fish Crow
Red-eyed Vireo
White-eyed Vireo
Black-and-white Warbler
Yellow-rumped Warbler
Yellow Warbler
Common Yellowthroat
Ovenbird
Northern Cardinal
Eastern Towhee
American Goldfinch
House Finch
Chipping Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Common Grackle
Red-winged Blackbird
European Starling
Brown-headed Cowbird
House Sparrow

May Afternoon

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sun, 09 May 2010 22:50:00 +0000

It was way too beautiful of a day on Tuesday afternoon to just come home from work and sit around. So, I took a drive down Featherbed Lane and out to the farm.

In less than an hour and a half, I spotted about 30 different bird species. Highlights were the Bobolinks (no photos) and the Night-heron on Featherbed Lane; and the Savannah Sparrow at the farm.

Bird Quest

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sun, 09 May 2010 22:30:00 +0000

The first Saturday of May is the Gloucester County Nature Club's Bird Quest. Here are some of the photos I took of our morning out in Clayton. In all, we saw about 62 different species.

Cape May Snow Birds

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 16:11:00 +0000

An Article by Pat & Clay Sutton...

The past few weeks at Cape May have given us a new appreciation of the term Snowbird.

For most of us, the frequent and heavy snow storms have placed birds and birding far down on our list of priorities. Power outages, downed trees, and the exigencies of daily (!) shoveling, just to reach the street and mailbox, have been foremost in the minds of Cape May residents, with birds only in the background as we lift yet another heavy shovel full of snow.

Yet life goes on in the bird world, and careful observations even yield a few reassuring signs that spring is on the way – however distant it may seem.

The term “Snowbird” (beyond that of describing those fortunate souls reading this from Florida) is often used for several species of birds that to the casual eye only seem to appear in the dead of winter.
Dark-eyed Junco is the bird most often called “snowbird” by locals, but we have heard it applied to Snow Buntings and Tree Sparrows as well – all winter visitors to the Cape. In reality these birds arrive in late October and November, but harsh winter conditions and snow cover can force them out to bare areas and to our bird feeders, where they are most often observed.

As many know, heavy snow concentrates birds, and well-stocked feeding stations always have some new “snowbird” visitors during storms.

In the past weeks our bird feeders have hosted Chipping Sparrows, Savannah Sparrows, Fox Sparrows, and an Eastern Towhee among the more “regular” birds. Friends’ feeders have hosted Tree Sparrows and even Eastern Meadowlarks during the recent snow storms.
This is the time of year when feeding stations can play a crucial role in the survival of birds. Besides the several hanging feeders, we clear the snow from under pines and cedars and spread millet and sunflower hearts there. Even our porch has become a “platform” feeder in the past week.

Our heated bird bath is a key feature too. At a time when most creeks, ponds, and puddles are frozen, a water source is equally as important as food for many birds.

As we worried, and rightfully so, over electricity, heat, frozen pipes, and our basic needs, many birds faced a battle for survival in the past few weeks. Those species that winter here that are at the northern limit of their winter range have the toughest time; Carolina Wren, Gray Catbird, Hermit Thrush, and American Woodcock are a few that are hit the hardest.
Woodcock may have the highest mortality of all when heavy snow covers the ground where they probe for worms. None-the-less, a few woodcock seem to be doing adequately feeding in under snow-free overhangs or dense trees where the sun has thawed the ground.

Other birds have different strategies. Many are “frequent flyers” in the winter, virtually commuting back and forth, north and south. Ducks and geese are the best examples of frequent flyers. Many winter as far north as they can, where they are best positioned in early spring to get a head start on the breeding season (first arrivals get the best territories, for example – think of it as getting in line early to get the best seats).

Many if not most ducks that were around Cape May in December and January are gone now – but this story has a happy ending. They simply head south to stay ahead of the weather (with its frozen marshes and ponds, and fields buried under snow) and to find ice-free areas where they can feed. They may journey to the Delmarva Peninsula or maybe the Carolinas. But amazingly, after a few days of thawing, these birds come right back north.

Snow Geese are famous for this, and we have seen winters where huge flocks head south one week, followed by vast skeins heading north just a week later.

Many waterfowl are commuters, as it were, and in winter may exhibit a true nomadic lifestyle. This winter we have noticed big flocks of Common Mergansers on lakes where none had been a week before, followed by none again a week later. And rather than a random occurrence, these birds know exactly what they are doing.

While many birds are stressed by the current harsh winter, others can take advantage of it. Raptors do just fine, preying on the weak. Our bustling bird feeders have been raided several times this past week by Sharp-shinned Hawks, and in the way of nature, the weakest and slowest birds are the ones that are taken.

On our first day out after the last snowstorm, we found an adult Bald Eagle perched on a piling on Bidwell’s Creek, eyeing a group of wary Bufflehead and Common Goldeneye in an unfrozen stretch of the creek. And while taking photos of our snowy yard, we heard the distinctive sound of crows mobbing a Great Horned Owl in the woods behind our back gate.

In the endless dance between predator and prey, winter – and particularly a brutal winter like this – can all come down to the quick and the dead. But the amazing lesson is that, in the bird world, life goes on, despite the weather.
The most amazing example of life going on has not been seen, but heard. At Cape May’s latitude, late February is early spring. After each of the recent snowstorms, as we first ventured out to refill bird feeders and begin again the endless task of shoveling out, we were greeted by bird song – not just chip notes or calls, but the full spring songs of many species.

Atop snow-covered trees, Red-winged Blackbirds proclaimed their springtime “Conk-ah-ree.” White-throated Sparrows constantly sang their distinctive “Old Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody” and we repeatedly heard the melodious song of Fox Sparrows. House Finches and American Robins sang loudly, and just once we heard the song of a snowbird – the Dark-eyed Junco. Mourning Doves cooed and Downy Woodpeckers drummed. Tufted Titmice and Northern Cardinals greeted the snow with their full song of spring.
As we labor under the heavy weight of the snowiest winter in Cape May history, take heart from our resilient and hardy birds. To our snowbirds, it is already spring.

Birds of a Feather...

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 16:54:00 +0000

Flock Together.

LINK

The old saying, “Birds of a feather flock together,” is particularly true among blackbirds in winter. Though many birds band together during winter, none are as notorious for their flocking behavior as blackbirds...red-winged blackbirds, European starlings, common grackles and brown-headed cowbirds.
This group of a feather often flock together in the many thousands, sometimes the millions. One winter roost in the Great Dismal Swamp on the Virginia-North Carolina border held an estimated 15 million birds. Flocks in the thousands often roost in urban and suburban areas, where their numbers and their noise make them unpopular among the people living nearby. Attempts by state and federal wildlife officials to discourage or destroy such flocks of wintering blackbirds have usually failed. One experiment, using a wetting agent sprayed on a huge flock of birds from an aircraft, left a much greater mess in the form of rotting carcasses.
Many wonder why birds in general and blackbirds in particular gather in flocks in winter. Though studies have been inconclusive, it is believed that there is safety in numbers. With many more eyes and ears to search for food and watch for predators, the chance of an individual bird surviving winter is increased. There are reports of hawks attacking flocks of flying birds time and again, but failing to capture even one when the prey closed ranks to form a mass that the hawk was unwilling or unable to penetrate without being injured.

Here are pictures I took a few weeks ago in Mannington...

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 15:39:00 +0000

Cowbirds have invaded my yard and one just flew into my window!

2009 Review

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 23:51:00 +0000

Owl Shuts Down Big Bang Research

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 00:56:00 +0000

LINK

Owl Shuts Down “Big Bang” Research
The European Organization for Nuclear Research announced that a single owl knocked out the Large Hadron Collider near Geneva, Switzerland. The owl dropped a piece of bread onto an electrical supply facility which caused a short circuit that shut down part of the cooling system of the 17-mile-long particle collider, the largest in the world. The collider was designed to conduct research on the origins of the universe.

The Birth of a New Species

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 23:12:00 +0000

LINK

Click the link for photos.

Birth of a New Species Witnessed by Scientists

On one of the Galapagos islands whose finches shaped the theories of a young Charles Darwin, biologists have witnessed that elusive moment when a single species splits in two.

In many ways, the split followed predictable patterns, requiring a hybrid newcomer who’d already taken baby steps down a new evolutionary path. But playing an unexpected part was chance, and the newcomer’s singing his own special song.

This miniature evolutionary saga is described in a paper published Monday in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, and authored by Peter and Rosemary Grant, a husband-and-wife team who have spent much of the last 36 years studying a group of bird species known collectively as Darwin’s finches.

The finches — or, technically, tanagers — have adapted to the conditions of each island in the Galapagos, and provided Darwin with a clear snapshot of evolutionary divergence when he sailed there on the HMS Beagle. The Grants have pushed that work further, with decades of painstaking observations providing a real-time record of evolution in action. In the PNAS paper, they describe something Darwin could only have dreamed of watching: the birth of a new species.

The species’ forefather was a medium ground finch, or Geospiza fortis, who flew from a neighboring island to the Grants’ island of Daphne Major, and into their nets, in 1981. He “was unusually large, especially in beak width, sang an unusual song” and had a few gene variants that could be traced to another finch species, they wrote. This exotic stranger soon found a mate, who also happened to have a few hybrid genes. The happy couple had five sons.

In the tradition of finches, for whom songs are passed from father to son and used to serenade potential mates, the sons learned their immigrant father’s tunes. But their father’s vocalizations were strange: he’d tried to mimick the natives, but accidentally introduced new notes and inflections, like a person who learns a song in a language they don’t understand.

These tunes set the sons apart, as did their unusual size. Though they found mates, it may only have taken a couple generations for the new lineage to ignore — or be ignored by — local finches, and breed only with each other. The Grants couldn’t tell for certain when this started, but they were certain after four generations, when a drought struck the island, killing all but a single brother and sister. They mated with each other, and their children did the same.

No exact rule exists for deciding when a group of animals constitutes a separate species. That question “is rarely if ever asked,” as speciation isn’t something that scientists have been fortunate enough to watch at the precise moment of divergence, except in bacteria and other simple creatures. But after at least three generations of reproductive isolation, the Grants felt comfortable in designating the new lineage as an incipient species.

The future of the species is far from certain. It’s possible that they’ll be out-competed by other finches on the island. Their initial gene pool may contains flaws that will be magnified with time. A chance disaster could wipe them out. The birds might even return to the fold of their parent species, and merge with them through interbreeding.

But whatever happens, their legacy will remain: New species can emerge very quickly — and sometimes all it takes is a song.

Bird watchers flock to New Jersey shore

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 18:02:00 +0000

LINK

The early bird gets the worm, but who gets the early bird?

That would be the people who get into Cape May, N.J., before sunrise. I found myself in that category one Monday early in August when Pete Dunne of the New Jersey Audubon Society invited me along on a field trip he was leading at the Cape May Migratory Bird Refuge.
A migratory bird refuge in New Jersey might sound a little weird. But this is Cape May, three hours south of Manhattan, 45 minutes from Atlantic City and a little more than 90 minutes from Philadelphia, dangling from the southern end of the state. The peninsula divides the Delaware Bay from the Atlantic Ocean, making New Jersey an ideal place for a migratory bird refuge.
Most birds migrate at night, taking advantage of the cooler temperatures, stable air and fewer predators that come with darkness. Many also follow the coastline, and on the East Coast that tapers to a blunted point in Cape May.
So the rising sun has greeted countless migrating birds with the uninviting prospect of finishing their night's flight with 17 more miles over open water before reaching Delaware. Naturally, the hard-traveling birds descend on Cape May for some R&R before the next leg of the journey.
Birds aren't the only ones unwinding on Cape May.
Most of the birding is done near the tip of the peninsula, around Cape May Point — including salt marshes, beaches, forests and a beanery. But just north is the town of Cape May, the nation's original seaside resort.
Booming in the mid- to late 1800s and then lying fallow for decades, the town has received National Historic Landmark status, thanks to its huge cache of surviving Victorian architecture.
So if you want to get the early bird in Cape May, you can ease into the dawn's early light from a staggering number of gingerbread B&Bs, many of which cater to birders with an early breakfast to go.
Many of those birders will likely be carrying copies of “The Sibley Field Guide to Birds,” the illustrated bird guide endorsed by the National Audubon Society. Artist and writer David Sibley spent seven years working on the guide from his home in Cape May Point during the 1990s.

“Cape May was really a great place to be while I was working on the book,” Sibley explained, “because if I had any questions or wanted to refresh my memory on some species, either that species or a close relative was likely to be within a mile of my house.”

With conditions just right, the trees drip with birds. On Sept. 14, the hawk watch in Cape May set a single-day record for bald eagles with 46. (The previous was 38.)
My day birding in Cape May came early in the fall migration and without ideal conditions. But still, from the parking lot of the migratory bird refuge, I saw something I hadn't seen before: four cedar waxwings — sort of sleek, tan cardinals — perched atop a line of trees.
“That is a designer bird,” Dunne told the group as a handful of “interpretive naturalists” — volunteer birders with really nice gear — set up spotting scopes for us to take turns sneaking up-close peeks.
They set up the scopes again and again as we encountered purple martins, ospreys, egrets, oystercatchers, yellowlegs, catbirds, laughing gulls, chimney swifts, black skimmers, sandwich and royal terns, tree swallows and the New Jersey state bird, the goldfinch.
Dunne summed up the area's migratory role: “Cape May is a running stream. You put your hand into it again in two weeks, you'll get an entirely new set of birds.”
A prime opportunity to put your hand in Cape May would be Oct. 23-25 for the 63rd Cape May Autumn Weekend. What began as the New Jersey Audubon Society's annual meeting has grown into the pre-eminent birding festival in North America (other than the World Series of Birding — which is also held in Cape May — May 15, 2010). The event offers three days of field trips, workshops and programs, including Saturday night's keynote address by Sibley.
One fall morning in particular has stayed with Sibley from seasons past and demonstrates the great potential of the area. Rising before the sun, he could hear endless deep, croaking calls peppering the darkness, and when dawn finally broke, it revealed more than 1,000 great blue herons, uncharacteristically flying in V formation flocks, stacked layer upon layer every 300 feet up into the sky.
“It was just an incredible gathering of great blue herons, this sort of once-in-a-lifetime event,” Sibley said.
“And things like that happen in Cape May.”

Skippers Galore

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 23:58:00 +0000

I took some pictures a few weeks ago in my yard... mostly of skippers.

Because they've been all over the place. And they still are.

I've up-loaded some of the pictures to my flickr page. (I've been lazy about creating slideshows, like I used to. I'll get back in the swing of things again soon.)

http://www.flickr.com/photos/bethgraham/

Any IDs on these guys would be great.

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 17:36:00 +0000

I just counted four goldfinches together on top of a Maple Tree in my neighbor's yard.

Also, click on my flickr badge (over there, to your left) to see a few new photos taken last Sunday at Parvin State Park.

I was very disappointed that I had to miss the Salem County Nature Club's walk at Parvin on Saturday (I had to work), so I went Sunday morning, on my day off.

It was very quiet. Not much stirring. But an incredibly beautiful morning for a walk in the woods.

Galapagos Flightless Cormorant

noreply@blogger.com (Beth Graham) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 00:29:00 +0000