Waiting for Rosie

When May comes, there are many things for me to expect. Mother's Day. Daylight extending to 8 pm and later in New Jersey. Our wedding anniversary.

In the bird world, early May is when we can expect to see a rose-breasted grosbeak (or five) at the house feeder.

Rose-breasted grosbeak pair, May 2013 (RE Berg-Andersson)

"Almost time," MH told me today. "The feeder is full? I hope they come while we're home."

MH is particularly eager to see these large birds because they are colorful, he knows what they are without my telling him and he likes to take their picture. The male is striking, with black and white wings and back, rose coloring on the breast and a large, pinkish bill for crunching seeds. The female is equally striking, despite the dull brown designed to hide her (and the nest) in foliage. However, she has distinct white eyebrows and brown streaking on the breast.

This grosbeak is a relative of the black-headed grosbeak, a western bird, and the evening grosbeak usually found in the north. The evening grosbeak looks like a goldfinch on steroids and that is the same feeling I get when I look at the female rose-breasted grosbeak because she looks like a much, much bigger version of a female purple finch, including the white eyebrow.

The first year I kept the house feeder filled into May, we had two females followed by five males. It was quite a sight to behold. Since then, I've found these birds usually arrive in our part of the country in early May, although occasionally in late April. (I've only just started seeing reports in the New Jersey bird lists today as I write this, the last day of April.)

2 males showing how they got their name. (RE Berg-Andersson)

There have been times when I have heard the grosbeak before seeing it. It has a sweeter, faster, slightly higher in pitch song than a robin. It usually catches me off-guard, particularly if I am hearing other birds in the woods. You have to pay attention. It will sit and sing for a long time, then fly off and you'll hear the song from another direction. If you're lucky, there will be two males "battling" in song, filling the woods with sweetness. They'll hang around the yard as long as the feeders are out, but can more reliably be found in my favorite hiking areas.

There are many other migrants passing through that are almost as colorful although many don't sing as well. Thrushes are passing through including the wood thrush, of which Henry David Thoreau said, "This is the only bird whose note affects me like music." One early morning in New Hampshire I walked in woods and heard five birds' flute-like songs, seemingly one per tree. In their midst was the higher, more ethereal sound of the hermit thrush. A thrush-like bird, the veery, has what sounds to me like an electronic song that can sound eerie in the woods. 

Three on the feeder, 2013 (RE Berg-Andersson)

And then there are the warblers, which don't really warble at all but buzz in unique patterns that can help you identify them, presuming you can see them high in trees or low in the brush. These birds don't hang around my yard but stop maybe a day to eat on their way north to more suitable habitat.

For now, we wait on the rosies. 

Return of the Wren, Again

I have written over the years about house wrens, and this year will be no exception.

Usually, the nest box goes out in late April and it doesn't take long before one of the little, brown wrens comes to investigate.

This year has been different. We had a warm spell in early April and I put the box out early, after reading reports of house wrens arriving in areas of the state south of my town. But it seemed a day or so later the winds turned and started blowing from the northeast, blocking the northbound migrants (and making the area colder than normal).

House wren

A few weeks ago I took my usual morning walk for the newspaper and heard a house wren in a yard across and down the street. House wrens have a small territory of which they are fiercely possessive, so I knew this one wasn't going to be coming to my backyard. As the weeks went on, I would hear a house wren here and there but not in the backyard.

That changed on Friday, May 10, when the winds finally turned again and brought warm weather out of the south. That morning, I awoke to the bubbly call of a house wren in the backyard. I came downstairs and found it investigating the box. When I went on my walk, I took the long way home and managed to find - no lie - seven different types of warblers: myrtle, several parulas, a couple of black and whites, a couple of American redstarts, a yellow, a common yellow-throat and my first-of-season black-throated blue.

If you swap the blue for a palm warbler, these are the same birds I managed to find over many hours and much traveling over parts of Great Swamp a couple of weeks ago, when migrants were few and far between. This day, they were all within a half-mile of each other.

With a good tailwind, the birds came and the birders of New Jersey rejoiced.

Wren nestbox

But the house wren's arrival was weeks late, part of the wacky weather we've been having this spring. Winters that are snowier or colder than usual. Rainy Marchs. Cold Aprils. May winds out of the northeast. And then a sudden spurt of south winds and hot temperatures.

Today, the house wren was bringing sticks to the box, getting on a branch every so often to sing his heart out. Males put a few twigs into the box and then brings the female around. If she likes it, she brings more twigs to build a full nest and then the laying and brooding begin.

The house wren sings one song and it sings it all day to claim his territory.

Meanwhile, I was looking out the kitchen window and saw what I first thought were three dingy goldfinches. No, I thought, that isn't right. At this time of year, the males are bright yellow with a black cap and the females are green-yellow. I looked closer and realized I was looking at three pine siskins, the first I've ever seen during spring migration rather than in winter.

They were quickly chased off by a sparrow. In turn, this bird was chased off by a more welcome visitor - a rosebreasted grosbeak.

Male rosebreasted grosbeak

Specifically, 2 male and 1 female grosbeak.

This is a well-named bird, as you can see in my picture. The male's bill is prominent, made more so by the contrast with the black head. And there is that rosy triangle on the breast, contrasted with the white.

The female, tho' brown rather than colorful (to better blend into the woods when breeding) is also striking, with her large, light bill and a distinctive white "eyebrow," which is how I can easily identify her.

Usually, these large birds show up in early May - when they show up. It is not a given. Sometimes they don't. Sometimes we have been traveling when they do. This is the first time in several years that we have been at home and they have been at the feeder at the same time.

As I said, I saw 3 of these. I had to take care of something and MH told me that we ultimately had 5 grosbeaks - 3 males and 2 females, an impressive total.

I don't know how long these grosbeaks will hang around. At some point I want to bring in the feeders, put out a hanging basket of flowers and put my houseplants on my screened-in porch. (Every time I plan on doing this it suddenly gets cold and I leave things where they are.) That is my summer ritual.

I don't have such doubts about the house wren. If he finds a mate and if she accepts the box, they will have a brood and in a few weeks I'll hear almost continual singing and see almost continual movement as the parents hunt for food for their young. Then, one day, they'll fledge and disappear from the box. Summer will be over. 

Life will go on.