Meals on the Wing

Dogwood, with reddening leaves and berries. (Margo D. Beller)

At this time of year, if I want locally grown fruit I can go to a farmstand and buy peaches, plums and apples. I could also go to a supermarket at all times of the year.  

Birds don't have that option. As they head south to their winter areas they need to find food where they can. That can mean stopping at a bird feeder or scouring trees and shrubs for insects, seeds or, my focus here, fruits.

I have plants I bought specifically to provide fruit for the birds, either during migration or into the winter. One such plant is a dogwood tree, which has lovely pink flowers in spring. Its leaves are among the first to go into fall coloring. It has provided many red fruits for the taking.

In my yard and beyond there is a smorgasbord of food Nature has set out for migrating birds that will sustain them on their journey. In my previous post I showed some of the plants that provide nectar and seeds for the birds in return for pollination or spreading the seeds. However, here I focus on plants that provide fruit the bird (or squirrel) eats, digests and expels, another way of perpetuating the species.

Here are a few of the many fruiting plants I've seen in my travels (I took these photos):

There are over 150 different types of viburnums that flower in spring and fruit in fall. I see them in the woods and along stream beds. This one, an arrowwood viburnum, I planted in my yard. For the first three years I kept it surrounded by fencing but it made it hard for MH to mow around it and on windy days the fencing would be blown on the plant. Worse, no bird went for the berries. This year I didn't put up fencing, which made MH happy as well as the deer, which snacked on the leaves they could reach as fast as they could grow. (I never see viburnum browsed in the wild.) Luckily, the plant grew tall and the deer could not reach the flowers or these berries at the top, which I hope will feed the birds.

Many of the plants in my backyard were either put in by previous owners of my house (such as the apple tree) or sprang up in areas and left alone. I've see privet in many a yard. Its flowers have a sickly sweet orange smell (its other name is mock orange) but the hedge grows tall and thick and is very good for privacy. Imagine my surprise when I discovered several privet plants along my backyard border fence (widely separated, unfortunately). These are privet fruits that will go blue-black when ripe.

Wild grape vine (like poison ivy or Virginia creeper, which also provide birds with fruit) will take over if allowed to spread. This one, not in my yard, has foliage that looks like fig leaves but there are others whose foliage looks like a spade. The berries ripen from green to blue and are very popular with sparrows, from what I've seen in my travels.

Multiflora rose is considered an invasive species and I am continually pulling up plants that take root in areas where I don't want them. However, there are many areas where I leave them alone because the white roses, unlike modern hybrids, smell wonderful and the robins, catbirds and occasional mockingbird enjoy the rosehips. Left alone the thorny plants can grow to be very tall and will then grab onto the nearest plant to continue its ascent. This photograph, from a recent hike, was taken from below the rosehips.

Unlike the cultivated strawberries you can buy in the grocery store, wild strawberries are smaller and not as sweet. They are also available for me to pick in autumn as well as spring. I am finding wild strawberries all over the yard (we don't spray pesticides or weed killer) but, unlike the equally spreading ground ivy, I leave the plants alone because I enjoy the fruit as much as the birds. 

A Walk Among the Autumn Weeds

It is nearly autumn. Leaves on the maples and the dogwoods are turning and the days are getting shorter. Now that I have more time on my hands I find that unless I can get out and take a walk I don't feel comfortable in my skin.

A lovely autumn plant with an ugly name - snakeroot.
It is poisonous so deer leave it alone.
(Margo D. Beller)

The other day I went to one of my usual bird-spotting places but there were very few birds to be had aside from the ubiquitous jays and catbirds. The tree swallows that had been zipping around the sky over the open field had been replaced by a variety of dragonflies, also hunting for food. No calling warblers, wrens or even a red-winged blackbird. All gone south.

The field itself was now filled with wildflowers - bright yellow goldenrod, pink joe-pye weed, milkweed and a variety of seeding plants and others that had already boomed and busted.

It is an unfortunate fact that now I can no longer make myself rise before dawn and rush out after the birds, especially at this time of year when there is no birdsong, no bright-colored feathers, no prospect of something possibly hanging around for a while. Now, the birds just want to go south whenever the weather allows them. I have seen more hummingbirds visiting the jewelweed along rivers than my feeder.

That doesn't mean nothing is flying at midday. There are many types of butterflies including sulphurs, cabbage whites, tiger and dark swallowtails and the mighty monarchs, all heading south. If a leaf isn't falling, the fluttering will more likely be a butterfly.

This time, however, the wildflowers and weeds have my attention. Let us take a walk along this path, Reader, and see what there is to see. (All pictures by me.)

My fall garden is mainly shades of pink - rose of Sharon, sedums, coneflowers and liriope - but I was given some goldenrod and that has brought a welcome shade of yellow. In the wild, there are large stands of goldenrod. Some forms bloom early, some much later in the summer. 

Unfortunately, ragweed is another fact of autumn life. You will see it everywhere, including in parks.

Milkweed, by contrast, is something to encourage. Monarchs need milkweed to survive - the adults lay eggs in it and the caterpillars eat the foliage.

Japanese knotweed grows in thick stands and at this time of year it flowers, enabling it to spread its seeds. I have been in many parks where it was cut down, even burned, but it comes back and thrives. It is one of the worst invasive plants you'll ever see in this area.

This one was a surprise. If you look closely you'll see the thin, feathery, green branches of wild asparagus. If the park mower doesn't destroy it, it should provide edible stalks of asparagus in the spring.

Bermuda grass is right up there with crabgrass and ground ivy as one of the worst plants to invade my yard. Every summer I find a large stand growing under my rhododendron, where it is hard to reach it because of the deer netting. It comes out easily but it is a perennial so you can expect more next year.

By contrast, I wish I could grow more joe-pye in my yard instead of grass. But while I've never seen a field of wild joe-pye browsed by deer, some that I planted was nearly destroyed, forcing me to put it behind deer netting, where it hasn't been happy. Seeing stands of it in the wild makes me envious.

I can't know everything. I have no idea what this is but at this time of year it looks like it is full of spikes. Was this a lush plant with flowers that dried? I don't know. I'll have to come back here in the spring and see what comes up.

Another mystery. The leaves suggested columbine when I saw this in the spring. But there are blue berries. Columbine doesn't produce blue berries. I found this and nearby stands in the woods, and at some point I'll look at my references.

If ever there was a plant I wish was on my property it is jewelweed. It is found in wet areas, near streams. It can grow in large stands and attract bees, flies, beetles and hummingbirds, which pollenate the plant by taking pollen from the small yellow-orange trumpet flowers. Whenever I see jewelweed I look for hummingbirds.

There are other plants, of course, many on the decline but others that are producing food such as the fruiting vines of wild grape, poison ivy and Virginia creeper.

As I discovered, even while concentrating on the variety of textures and colors in the weeds and wildflowers, there is always the possibility of a bird surprising me.

For instance, as I was taking the picture of the joe-pye seen above, I saw a raptor flying high over the field. The binoculars revealed a broadwing hawk, easily identified by the broad white stripe in an otherwise dark tail. That bird reminds me why I must get out of the house, whatever the time of day.

The King of Hawks

This post is based on one that originally ran on Sept. 9, 2017, on the blog of New Jersey Audubon's Scherman Hoffman sanctuary. The NJA blog was significantly overhauled since then and the archives were deleted. However, I was able to keep a copy so this can again see the light of day.

There was no birding before the binocular, there was simply ornithology.
-- Pete Dunne

When summer is ending, there is nothing like the prospect of finding an area with a clear view to the north and then waiting for the annual migration of south-bound raptors. It doesn't matter if I am on a mountain, in a park or in my front yard, looking up and seeing a small speck that could be a broad-winged hawk or a red-tailed hawk or a peregrine falcon is exciting. There are areas where hawk watches are held every year because these areas, if they are on mountain tops, provide the warm columns of air called thermals these bird need to soar and float southward, allowing them to conserve their strength. 

Southbound Cooper's Hawk, Hawk Mountain (RE Berg-Andersson)

For many years, the author and birdwatcher Pete Dunne has been coming to the hawk platform at New Jersey Audubon's Scherman Hoffman sanctuary. His visits, in early or mid-September, are timed to when the flight of broad-wings is at its highest and other raptors are increasingly on their way to their wintering grounds. Pete always draws a big crowd. Twice I have watched him in action on the platform, encouraging young birders, providing identification tips and, if you picked up a copy of one of his many books, signing an autograph.

Pete ran the NJ Audubon center in Cape May for a long time but after suffering a stroke in 2014, he stepped down to become the group's Birding Ambassador. Nowadays, however, he has given that up and when he is not in the field he is writing a book or a blog post somewhere.

So it seems fitting that I reprint this NJ Audubon post, my 300th on this blog, in September about a man who is an institution in the birding field as well as a humble guy for whom there is no stupid question and always much to learn:

At high noon, on a mid-September day that feels like mid-August, Pete Dunne sits in a chair on the Scherman Hoffman sanctuary hawk observation platform, calling out what he sees through his binoculars and providing a wealth of observation tips.

“That’s a Turkey Vulture. It holds its wings in a V. V for vulture.” 

“There’s a Broad-wing flying just above a Red-tail in that cloud. You can see the Broad-wing is a little smaller and its wings look like a candle flame.”

“That’s a Sharp-shin passing over us. It looks like a flying mallet. A Cooper’s hawk looks like a flying crucifix.”

Pete Dunne (Margo D. Beller)

The crowd is a bit smaller than when I was last on the platform while Dunne was visiting five years ago, but it is no less avid. Up go the binoculars as sanctuary director Mike Anderson uses a clicker to count off the number of raptors seen while making sure everyone can see what Pete Dunne is seeing. Dunne visits this New Jersey Audubon sanctuary every September from his home near the Delaware Bay, close to Cape May at the state’s southern tip as the gull flies. He ran New Jersey Audubon’s Cape May Bird Observatory for many years before a stroke in 2014 prompted him to step down.
Since then he has been New Jersey Audubon’s Birding Ambassador. His mission is to inspire your interest in birds and conservation. He comes north to Scherman Hoffman in mid-September because it is in the “Broad-wing belt” when these buteos can be seen flying south for the winter in the greatest numbers. There are more of them seen now in northern New Jersey than in Cape May, he said. Also, it gives him an excuse for the Morristown-born Dunne to visit family.

But today the weather is not cooperating, even for Pete Dunne. While the rising warm air, or thermal, will keep a flying hawk aloft, the wind is out of the south. Southbound migrants prefer a strong wind out of the north to push them along so they can conserve energy.

Shortly after I arrived at noon, two hours into his visit, five Broad-wings were counted among the raptors seen including a couple of Red-tails, some Turkey Vultures, a few Black Vultures and a Sharp-shin, the smallest of the accipiters. We waited. The small number does not bother Dunne. He remarks that the previous year on the platform there were no Broad-wings seen although there were plenty of other raptors, including Bald Eagle and Osprey. When no hawks are flying, he points out migrating Monarch butterflies and the occasional non-migrating Blue Jay. The binoculars come down and people break into small groups, sharing birding stories and other interests, including choral singing and politics.

At this point Dunne stands and asks if everyone has a pair of binoculars, and points out the ones in a box for a free loan. “Everyone knows what a loan means, right?” he says, smiling. If you don’t know how to use them, he’ll show you. He discusses differences in price and features, which can be substantial. He asks how many of those on the platform are first-time visitors. There are a few. The crowd is generally older and long-time birders and most have been to Scherman Hoffman’s platform. The platform is big enough to hold all these people and more but Mike Anderson told me Pete Dunne’s annual visit is easily the largest crowd up there. He’d love to have a daily hawk count but the usual two evils – lack of time and money – prevent that.

(Margo D. Beller)

There are young people on the platform, too, searching for specks in the sky. Dunne encourages them because they are the future. He talks to them like a friendly uncle. After all, he was once a wunderkind birder, encouraged by his father. Dunne was so much into birding that he was devastated when the father of his primary birding companion – a girl – forbid her to travel with Dunne in the woods anymore when both achieved puberty. Dunne said he didn’t understand why he now had to bird alone.

He got over it and has birded alone or leading large groups for most of his 66 years. He is a hero of mine for being self-taught and not a trained ornithologist. He was one of the creators of the World Series of Birding, an annual competition where the idea is to find as many birds as possible, either throughout New Jersey or in a particular large or small area. The competition raises money for conservation. Dunne’s first team included Roger Tory Peterson. He knew David Sibley before Sibley became famous with his illustrated birding guides. Dunne has written a slew of books including “Tales of a Low-Rent Birder” in 1986 (which is how I first heard of him), “The Art of Bird Finding” in 2011 and books on raptor identification, including his newest, “Birds of Prey.”

We once crossed paths at Cape May’s Higbee Beach as he led a very large group to a larger tour bus as I was arriving just after 7 a.m.. You’d never know he’d had a stroke. He took a moment to point out to me a singing Carolina Wren. His enthusiasm is infectious, which is a good thing if you are on a mission to expose as many people as possible to the wonder of birds.

When I left the platform an hour later, he was still up there, still talking to the crowd and watching for Broadies. According to Mike Anderson, those who came after got to see about 20 Broad-wings, four Bald Eagles and an equal number of Ospreys, five American Kestrels, Northern Harriers, Cooper’s and  Sharp-shinned hawks. Oh, and a Mississippi Kite, not a sanctuary record but it must have been quite a sight.

You don’t need a Pete Dunne to see hawks from the observation platform. There’s still plenty of migration season left for you to come up and find them.