Baltimore oriole. Photo by Mark Videan.
By Brian Allen
Getting up before dawn, I find the ground around the feeders is already attended by small societies of juncos and tree sparrows, eating their breakfast before the Cooper’s Hawk wakes up. It’s been really cold, and the ground is frosted, but cardinals are singing in the distance. The woodcock is finishing up his courtship flight, whistling high above the apple orchard. Time for some spring birding.
I head to Tippy Dam, hoping to find early migrants. They shelter there from the cold north wind, along steep banks that warm early in the morning sun. When I arrive it’s still cold, 13 degrees, and the sun is just breaking over the hills. Hundreds of fishermen have beat me to their stations, gear already unloaded, wading in the stream and casting for steelhead.
A couple of years ago, about this time of year, my friend Doug Cook and I found a Say’s Phoebe here. Say’s Phoebe is a black, brown and peachy-colored bird normally found in New Mexico and Arizona. So, we were a bit astonished by finding it poking around the rocks at the foot of the dam. That week, dozens of birders from around the state would drive up to Tippy to share in the excitement of seeing this desert bird that had migrated off a wrong compass.
It’s a quiet morning. A lone Herring Gull is cruising up and down the river, perhaps hoping the fishermen leave a little treat from a catch, calling along the way and connecting the river with Lake Michigan by its seashore call. Around the bend, a Belted Kingfisher rattles in excitement over a prime nesting bank or a school of tasty-looking minnows in the clear water.
I’m not finding much, seeing only my frosty breath and crystals of ice coating the unopened aspen buds.
A small group of Golden-crowned Kinglets are searching the trees, too, calling “zee-zee-zeet” repeatedly. I’m always impressed that kinglets, only slightly larger than hummingbirds, can survive such cold weather. Researchers have found that they will sleep together in little groups, huddled up from the cold along a sheltered evergreen branch.
Looking over the backwaters, now completely ice free and steaming in the golden sunrise, I hear geese honking and see mergansers diving for their meals. Most of the ducks have headed north, with only a few Goldeneyes and Bufflehead reminding me of the wintering flocks. I head back to my car as some fishermen already leave for the day, loading their truck as a country music song blares. I guess they assume everyone here likes the song.
I drive up the hill over to Sawdust Hole Campground, where the sound of birds mingles with tinkling spoons of campers’ breakfasts. Despite a low of about 10 degrees last night, there are several campers here and even a tent. These guys know how to enjoy the outdoors!
Hiking down the hill to the riverside, I come out of the shadow of the hillside and into the wonderful warming sunshine. A pair of sky-blue Eastern Bluebirds are enjoying the sun too, the male singing its “cheerful charmer” song at the top of an ash snag. Distant Flickers and a Pileated Woodpecker are drumming in the spring down the valley, and mated pairs of geese are shattering the quiet with their panicked honking. I’m hoping to return here later in spring when the willows and aspens have produced their bright new green leaves, and more songbirds like the bright yellow-and-chestnut-striped Yellow Warblers are on territory.
This spring, like so many others, has been too warm and then too cold as the jet stream, tortured by a warming arctic, fluctuates wildly. As I write in early April, the trees and shrubs have started to bud a month too early. I’m perhaps one of the only people around that hopes this recent cool weather holds (well, probably the orchard owners too), so the leaves are not grown out, making it harder for the migrant songbirds to find freshly emerging caterpillars.
We are right in the middle of spring now, with some great days behind us and hopefully a lot more to come. I’m looking forward to some more calm sunny mornings, perhaps at Magoon Creek, Lake Bluff, North Point Park in Onekama or Chamberlain Road in Arcadia.
These parks and places can offer you the wonderful spectacle of sunshine, new green trees and the gems of recently arrived birds that have migrated here all the way from the tropics. Spring birding offers the prospect of orioles, tanagers and warblers, with their rainbow colors and their chorus of mingled songs, who will be here in May. I hope that you too can enjoy them.
Brian Allen is a long-time birdwatcher and bird researcher based in Manistee County. Each spring he counts birds and bird species from Bear Lake to Wellston as a volunteer with the U.S. Geological survey. Reach him at manisteebirder@gmail.com
