
This week has proved to be fairly quiet on the birding scene. While hordes of hungry goldfinches, chickadees, titmice, and rose- and white-breasted nuthatches continue to vacuum up any and every seed they can find with stunning speed, the garden has quieted down.
Mealtime is always busy, but there's a late-summer stillness in the air, accompanied by cooler nights, ripening pumpkins, and shyly turning leaves. I did have some fairly interesting sightings this week, which inspired the name for this column: white, black, and tan.
No, I have not discovered an improvement of the Black and Tan cocktail while lazily looking out my window. I was, instead, pleased to see interesting activity.
Driving on Route 30 between Manchester and Bennington, I saw several white figures perched in the swampy waters near the Arlington exit, best known for their 10 or so Blue Heron nests precariously perched atop tree skeletons.
This time, however, I saw four or five snow white Great Egrets. The largest white egret in its range, the Great Egret is easily distinguished from its Great Blue counterpart by stunning pure white plumage, making it easy to spot as it fishes and feeds in the water.
The birds, which were once common, became scarce due to plume-hunting at the end of the 19th century; however, due to conservation efforts, numbers have increased and the birds' range has continued to extend northward.
I also spotted a Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker in my backyard, poking around at one of our conifers. I know they're nothing too special, but I have always has a soft spot for these black-and-white birds with streaky yellow underparts and a red cap and throat for the males. They're larger than either the Downy or the Hairy Woodpecker and are easily recognized by their distinctive plumage and their horizontal rows of tiny holes, made when they search for sap. Finally, I have seen more and more Cedar Waxwings as the weeks have passed.
At first I spotted a few of the pretty little tan birds zipping around my garden, searching for berries to fill their insatiable hunger for fruit.
On a walk by the Dorset Pond, I spotted hundreds of them dramatically swooping over the water as they decimated the local mosquito population. In spite of their efforts, I got some nice bites on my legs.
Guess they're not working hard enough.
Has migration season thrown some strange birds into your backyard?
Feel free to send all questions and comments to my (new!) e-mail at watch.the.birds.vt@gmail .com and check us out online at www.watchthebirdsvermont.blogspot.com for additional sightings and birding stories.