Identification Tips » BirdQuiz.net

Little Gulls = Big Find

Mar 252021

At around this time of year Jeanine and I like heading to Cape May, to sit on the bayside dunes at Miami Rd. and sort through the gull-tern-shorebird flock. Well, today the tides were perfect, and the temperature peaked in the mid-60’s with little wind, making the attempt a pleasure (unlike our ill-fated attempt last week with freezing winds in our faces). The main targets are a pair of mostly European species, Black-headed Gull and Little Gull. We have tended to do well with Black-headed Gull over the years, but have only seen Little Gull once in our birding lives, desperately chasing one that had been seen up at Spruce Run Reservoir four years ago.

Today was different. As we walked the shoreline, before we even reached our traditional vantage point ~250 yds. from the parking area, we spotted a dark hooded gull with otherwise very light plumage, a large red bill, and red legs: Black-headed Gull! Nearby were a pair of smaller Bonaparte’s Gulls (or so we thought) for a nice size comparison. It was a great start and time for a few documentation photos.

Our initial view of the Black-headed Gull, with a smaller gull (we incorrectly assumed it was a Bonaparte’s Gull at the time) behind it. The light wingtips and relatively bright legs of the smaller bird should have been our clues to look closer. Photo by Jeanine Apgar.

Here’s a better view of the Black-headed Gull, with its dark chocolate hood, large red bill, and bright red legs.

Black-headed Gull in flight shows a dark triangular patch on the underside of its wings that distinguishes it from the more numerous Bonaparte’s Gulls.

Or at least we thought the nearby smaller gulls were Bonaparte’s. After we tried passing these birds to get to the main flock out on the sandbar, they flushed and we noticed that the two smaller birds had dark underwings with white borders. LITTLE GULLS!! TWO LITTLE GULLS!! Or could we be mistaken? Cameras clicked away as the birds circled, landed briefly, but then rapidly flew off northward into the fog, never to be seen again.

Little Gull in flight, showing the distinctive dark underwings with a white trailing border. Perhaps you can see a slight pinkish hue to its belly.

Or we thought we wouldn’t see them again. We sat near the main flock, sorting through the remaining birds but unable to spot any on the sandbar. We also re-examined our photos, compared them with the field guides, and indeed, the photos revealed that they were Little Gulls; we weren’t mistaken. We texted the sighting and were soon joined by Tom Johnson, who pointed out that a Little Gull was standing on the sandflat a short distance in front of us, which we hadn’t noticed. They look so similar to Bonaparte’s Gulls (and we had no prior experience with seeing them perched), that we weren’t even sure what field marks to use. Leg color? Size? Facial pattern? Each of those marks seemed inadequate. Tom pointed out that the Little Gull has whiter upper wingtips, and that the bird in front of us was showing part of its black underwing. (see the photo below). I think this is the best field mark for us to look for in the future.

The Little Gull (in center of the photo) spotted (or re-found?) by Tom Johnson, on the edge of a group of Bonaparte’s Gulls and Forster’s Terns. Note the light primaries with the black underside visible on a twisted wing feather. Photo by Jeanine Apgar.

Here’s a small part of the flock, with the Black-headed Gull on the far right, in the company of Bonaparte’s Gulls. Note the dark primary wingtips on all these birds compared with the Little Gull’s light wingtips shown in the photo above.

Now I am curious: were there actually THREE Little Gulls there today (two of which flew off, and one on the sandbar that we missed) or only two, one of which returned without our noticing it? Either way, it was a great sighting, a great day, and a great learning experience.

Later on, we spotted our first Barn Swallow, first Eastern Towhees, and first Louisiana Waterthrush of the season. A super day for ‘Firsts’. I’m still smiling.

Yellow-rumped Warblers and yellow-rumped warblers

Oct 102020

This past week we experienced a yearly birding rite of passage, transitioning from a nice variety of diverse warbler species early in the week to the late season monotonous swarm of Yellow-rumped Warblers that signals the approaching end of warbler season. For those who are somewhat overwhelmed by trying to identify fall warblers, with their variety of identification marks to observe (facial patterns, presence or absence of wing bars, body and head color, undertail color, tail length, bill size, behaviors, etc. etc. etc.), it is easy to get lured into thinking that if you see a bird with a yellow rump, then it must be a Yellow-rumped Warbler, right? Wrong. (editor’s note: when “Yellow-rumped Warbler” is capitalized, it means a specific species, Setophaga coronata, but without the capital letters, a “yellow-rumped warbler” could be any warbler with a yellow rump. Got it? Capitalization matters.)

OK, so here we have a fairly distant bird in a tree. But is it a Yellow-rumped Warbler (Setophaga coronata) or a confounding yellow-rumped warbler? Read on.

Let’s start by looking at a classic fall Setophaga coronata Yellow-rumped Warbler and make sure we can identify it first, and then proceed onward to the confounding species.

A classic fall Yellow-rumped Warbler, featuring dark but thin and diffuse streaks overlaid on a light gray breast, with small yellow patches on the side, a patchy brownish face and the namesake yellow rump. Unlike most warblers, they are often found in groups.

Frontal view of a classic fall Yellow-rumped Warbler, showing that the breast streaks do not continue completely across the breast.

So what other warblers can have yellow rumps? We will ignore the species that are yellow nearly all over, such as Yellow Warbler, Hooded Warbler, and Wilson’s Warbler, since the most important thing is having a yellow rump that contrasts with the rest of the body. After all, it is not merely the presence of a yellow rump that gives the Yellow-rumped Warbler its name, but instead it’s the distinction of the rump from the rest of the body color.

So let’s take a look at a few of those non-Yellow-rumped Warblers that have yellow rumps.

This guy clearly has a yellow rump, but is buffy yellow on the belly, with remnants of a rusty cap, and lacks the breast streaks of a true Yellow-rumped Warbler. This is a bright eastern Palm Warbler, whose most notable feature in the field is its nearly constant tail bobbing.

Here we have a drabber western sub-species of Palm Warbler, lacking the yellow undersides. It’s easy to see how this bird might be confused with a true Yellow-rumped Warbler, but the tail-bobbing would give it away in live view.

This bird, sporting a bright yellow rump patch, is a Magnolia Warbler. Magnolias differ from Yellow-rumped Warblers in nearly every other way, so they are not easily confused if we take the time to examine the entire bird. Visible in this photo, Magnolias have a bright white eyering, two white wing patches, and have a bright yellow breast. But if your only view is from the back, it is best not to come to a hasty decision after seeing just that bright yellow rump patch.

Here’s another warbler with a yellow rump, with little else visible, except for an overall drab gray color and yellow edging on the tail feathers. Could it be a Yellow-rumped Warbler? Decide after you see the next photo, after it turns sideways.

Here is that same bird turned sideways, giving a better field-guide view. It does have streaky sides on a dull-ish breast, similar to real Yellow-rumped Warblers, but there is no yellow patch on its side, and the wings have yellow edges to them, with a partial white wing patch. This is a drab fall Cape May Warbler (perhaps a first-year female?), easily confused with a Yellow-rumped Warbler.

Here we have a frontal view of another drab Cape May Warbler, showing that the breast streaking continues across the entire breast, not just the sides. Also, as is seen here, the bill of Cape May Warbler is more pointed than that of a Yellow-rumped Warbler.

This is a brighter Cape May Warbler in fall, showing the yellow rump that is the topic of this post, but also showing a bit more yellow color on its face that is inconsistent with being a Yellow-rumped Warbler. Note also the yellow edging to the tail and wing feathers and the white wing patch.

So there you have it; we have at least four warbler species with yellow rumps, only one of which is a capitalized Yellow-rumped Warbler. We can take that fact in either of two ways: (1) we can curse the birding gods and the nomenclaturists for confounding and confusing us, or (2) we can have a healthier attitude and say that a yellow rump is simply a great field mark that helps to narrow down the number of possibilities for the warbler we are examining, and seeing it eliminates many other warbler species. I fall into that second camp, using rump color as an important criterion to differentiate the fall warblers.

A fall Roseate Tern

Sep 082019

I seem to be on a Roseate Tern fixation lately. We have been searching successfully for them in spring for the past three years, I posted recently about how they seem to be increasing in NJ over the past decade or so, and now Jeanine and I just found our first fall Roseate that I think merits some discussion.

If you want a brief recent description of their local history, you can click here, but suffice it to say that sightings of Roseates are increasing over the past few years, but locally they occur more often in spring than in late summer / fall. This might be partly due to the fact that they are easier to identify in spring, when they tend to stand out among other medium-sized terns due to their black bills (when Forster’s Tern and Common Terns usually have orange bills), long tail, and overall pale plumage. In fall the bills of Common Terns and Forster’s Terns also turn black, and it can be tough to find a tern with a thinner black bill among all the other medium-sized black-billed terns.

But while scanning through a flock of Common Terns this week in the Sedge Islands, one bird stood out as having light plumage. It did have what appeared to be a longer narrower bill, but was it real, or was it just birder’s imagination trying to turn it into a rarer bird? It didn’t have a long tail, which argued against Roseate. As we approached closer, we did see that it was banded, having a yellow band with black lettering, but a few weeks ago we had an interesting and confusing Common Tern that was banded, and previous Roseates that we found all had blue bands with white lettering. Finally, we knew that Roseate fall sightings are rare here in Ocean County, with only two eBird reports ever from August, and none in September. Because we were in a canoe, we didn’t have our field guides with us, so we leaned toward it being a Roseate, took lots of photos (too many of which ended up being overexposed) and hoped that when we got home we could figure it out.

Here is the bird isolated, where it is tough to make comparisons. Overall it looks bright and with a longish thin bill. Note the black edges to the outer primaries, which will become relevant later.

Now the bird looks even brighter when compared to a nearby Common Tern, and indeed the bill looks slightly thinner too. I find that brightness can change dramatically when a bird turns, but here they are facing the same direction.

Before we get to the thrilling conclusion, a few details about the distribution of Roseate Tern might be in store.
Roseate Terns can be found world-wide, nesting on offshore islands. The population here in the northeast US is endangered, with the two largest breeding colonies, each with ~2,000 pairs, located on Great Gull Island (NY) and near Buzzards Bay (MA). After breeding, they stage until late summer in Cape Cod before migrating southward. So this is the narrow fall window for spotting them on coastal beaches in our area.

Now back to our photos. We already saw how bright this bird appeared compared to the surrounding Common Terns. In some photos the bill indeed looks longer and narrower.

In this comparison the bill looks quite narrow again compared to the Common Tern.

In some photos where the bird is resting we see that the two outer primaries are black, which is good for Roseate. The best flight photo however, shows that six primaries are darkish gray in flight, seemingly arguing against Roseate. In support of Roseate, however, those six primaries are dark on the forward half of the feathers and light on the rear half.

Finally we see the bird in flight. It lacks the long outer tail feathers, but I only count four feathers on each side of the tail, so presumably the longer feathers are molted or worn.

The tail completely lacked the long outer retrices, but upon closer examination, I see only four tail feathers, so presumably the outer feathers are molted away at this time of year.

Here we get good documentation of the banding code, but the bill looks only slightly different from the Common Tern.

Overall, we were now convinced that we had our first fall Roseate, so we submitted a report to the bird banding lab, and within two days the report came back positive. Our Roseate Tern was banded in 2017 in CT, being too young at the time to fly. So this bird is two years old, and should be ready to breed next year.

It was a great lesson for us on the finer points of how to identify Roseate Tern in fall.

Western Sandpipers

Aug 062019

I’ve always had troubles with Western Sandpipers. I could never be sure whether I wasn’t seeing any, or whether I was seeing them but not recognizing them right in front of my eyes. Plus, all of the ‘peeps’ can be somewhat difficult to distinguish, being small active shorebirds with relatively subtle differences, especially if we are viewing them from a distance or under sub-optimal conditions (poor light, windy conditions, in tight flocks, partly submerged in water, etc.).

Yesterday I enjoyed a delightful day on the Jersey Shore with thousands of shorebirds at close range, including a few Western Sandpipers. But this time I was able to identify them readily and find them quite easily from within a sizeable flock of the related and similar Semipalmated Sandpipers. I thought that I’d share the experience and a few photos with you in the hope that it might help you to find your own Westerns.

Here is a Western Sandpiper. Superficially it resembles other peeps, but more careful observation reveals the three characteristics to look for: rufous tones to the head and scapular feathers, chevrons that extend down the side of the breast, and a relatively longer, thinner, and slightly drooping bill.

So what should we be looking for if we want to find Western Sandpipers this time of year? The distinguishing characteristics are that when compared to Semipalmated Sandpipers, Westerns Sandpipers have more rufous tones in their plumage, more extensive chevrons on their breast/belly, and a longer, thinner bill. For me, trying to find one by comparing bill sizes alone was not productive at all. But simply sorting through a flock of sandpipers by searching for birds that have the rufous tones or the chevrons proved rather easy, especially when these characteristics were combined. Plus, it didn’t matter too much which way the bird was facing; if the birds were facing me, looking for the extended chevrons was simple, and if the birds were facing away from me, I searched for patches of rufous feathers. To back up the identification, the length of the bill then became a third supporting characteristic.

Here we have a pair of photos of Western and Semipalmated Sandpipers in close proximity to each other in different positions. Notice how similar yet different they appear in direct comparison with each other.

The differences between a Semipalmated Sandpiper (sitting bird on the right) and a Western Sandpiper (upper right) become more noticeable when they are side-by-side. Notice the duller overall color of the Semipalmated and the shorter bill.

Here the differences in the breast pattern become more obvious, with the Semipalmated Sandpiper (on the left) sporting a more limited dull brown/gray breast band, and the Western Sandpiper in the center having more extensive chevrons.

We leave with one more photo of an isolated Western Sandpiper. Do you think you can find one now? As the season progresses I suspect that they will lose that rufous color. Will we still be able to find them?

Scoter Identification

Jan 032019

OK, so today I want to comment on the identification of scoters. I know what some of you are thinking: “Really? Scoters? Aren’t they easy-peasy?” After all, they are relatively common ducks of our eastern seaboard, there are only three scoter species, and the males have obvious markings. I agree; the males are distinguishable and easily identified.

Male Black Scoters are all-black except for the large bright yellow-orange knob on their bill. They are perhaps the most common of our three scoters.

Male Surf Scoters are unmistakable whether they are facing you or facing away, with their multicolored bill and large white rectangular patch on the back of the neck.

Here’s a male White-winged Scoter, with the distinctive white ‘comma’ near its eye. They are the least common of our scoters, and are slightly larger than the other two species.

So as we see, the adult males are indeed simple to distinguish from each other. But for me the identification becomes more challenging when we consider female and immature scoters. Since they constitute more than half of the population, we shouldn’t simply ignore them. For example, can you identify these two birds with certainty? Can we determine their gender or age? If not, then read on.

This is a scoter, but which one?

Here is another mostly brown scoter with some white patches on its face. Do you know what it is?

With regard to the female/immature scoters, Black Scoter is easiest. To me its facial pattern is very reminiscent of a non-breeding or female Ruddy Duck (a bird that might be more familiar to most of us), with the dark cap and contrasting light cheek, which as we soon will see, is very different from the other two scoters. Here is a nice example, followed by a female Ruddy Duck for comparison.

This is a female Black Scoter, with a dark cap and contrasting lower cheek. Compare it with the Ruddy Duck shown below.

This is a Ruddy Duck. It has a similar facial pattern as the female Black Scoter, but is much smaller, with a different bill shape, and usually has its tail held in an upright position as we see here.

For me the major scoter problem was distinguishing female and immature Surf Scoters from White-winged Scoters. I used to focus on the pattern of the white spots on the face. After all, Sibley has arrows pointing out that the front spot on White-winged Scoter face is more oval, while for Surf Scoter is is vertical. In reality, I would cheat and hope that some white wing feathers were peeking out to make the decision easy. But the problem with looking strictly at the facial pattern is that the spot was often roundish or dispersed, so I couldn’t figure out if it was more oval or vertical, and sometimes there was no obvious spot near the bill. Here’s one example.

Here’s a female-type scoter with a single white spot on its face, despite the fact that the field guides depict two white patches on the face of both Surf and White-winged Scoters. So how can we evaluate it?

After struggling with this problem I went back once again to my big Sibley, and then something happened that happens often with that book…I found more information in there that I had not really paid attention to. It was this panel.

The bill shape of Surf and Black Scoters appears quite similar to me, with the exception of the ‘overhang’ of feathers on the upper base of the Surf Scoter bill. This similar shape is not a problem, because those two species are easily distinguished by plumage features, even from a distance. The point that I hadn’t noted previously is that the bill shape of Surf and White-winged Scoters are very different, so we don’t have to examine the facial spots or hope for the white wing patch to be exposed. White-winged Scoter’s bill has a smile-like appearance to it, being highly curved where it meets the feathers, with the lower ‘lip’ extending far back into the face. Surf Scoter is more triangular overall, with a somewhat vertical angle near the cheek. So if we get a good look at the bill shape (which admittedly is not always possible if they are distant), the identification becomes simple and definitive. Look for this feature when you have a mixed flock of scoters and test yourself with the birds shown below.

This is a ‘classic’ female Surf Scoter, with the two strong white facial spots, including the forward spot being located directly behind a vertical bill surface.

This is the full-body photo of one of our two original quiz birds from above, with a single facial spot. The strongly curved or ‘smiling’ surface of the bill where it meets the feathers indicates that this is a White-winged Scoter.

Here’s that same bird with its wings open, confirming that it is indeed a White-winged Scoter. Photo contributed by Billy Leiter.

This is a full-body shot of our second quiz bird from above. The white wing patch clearly identifies this brown bird as a White-winged Scoter, even from a distance. If that white wing patch wasn’t visible (as often happens), and we relied on evaluating the facial spots, we might be stumped because the forward spot is weak and somewhat vertical. But the ‘smiling’ curved bill shape would be sufficient to identify this bird. (click to enlarge the photo).

The lesson once again is that as often happens when struggling with bird identification, structure (which is consistent) trumps plumage (which is variable).

An Interesting Egret

May 312018

Jeanine and I went to Brig in today’s mist and rain, and near the end of the loop we found some egrets close to the drive with gorgeous bright red lores, very different from their usual bright yellow non-breeding-season color. I snapped a few photos.

Here’s a Snowy Egret from last summer, with its yellow lores that are more typical of this species, as seen throughout most of the year.

Here’s a Snowy Egret from today in breeding plumage. Look at how red its lores are. Wow. Note that it has a typical cluster of shaggy, frilly plumage on back of its head and upper neck.

Then we noticed another bird with lores that were more salmon-colored. I snapped a few photos of that bird too, figuring it would be a nice intermediate color for a blog entry on lore color. After I got home I noticed that this second bird had a single long plume, which immediately called to mind Little Egret.

Our first view of the second bird, with its long stiff plume extending well beyond a frilly mane. The lores are not nearly as rich as the ‘standard’ Snowy Egret shown above.

Here’s the second bird again, with its single long plume and salmon-colored lores, and showing the color of its toes.

The second bird in textbook side view. How about that long plume? Have you ever seen that feature on a Snowy Egret?

Could this be another Little Egret? (click here for the story of our encounter with New Jersey’s first and only Little Egret) Or maybe it’s an aberrant Snowy Egret? Or could it perhaps be a hybrid? To answer this question I needed to do a bit more investigation to learn more about the fine details that distinguish Little vs. Snowy Egret, and after reading more I still don’t know the answer. Apparently nobody really knows the answer.

So here’s the story as I see it. Snowy Egrets, which are a New World species, are difficult to distinguish from Little Egrets, which are an Old World species. Except that Little Egrets have started spreading to the Caribbean, where they have bred in Barbados since 1994, and they now are seen in Trinidad and Tobago, the Bahamas, and Antigua. Some of that population presumably now migrates north with Snowy Egrets, resulting in occasional sightings in the northeastern US. Snowy Egrets have yellow lores in non-breeding plumage that turn deep red when they are breeding, along with a cluster of lacy plumes on back of the head and upper neck. Little Egret has lores that range from grayish to a salmony-color (or should it be salmonish?) and in breeding plumage they have two long filamentous plumes without the cluster of lacy plumes. Other features of Little Egret, such as slope of the head and length of the bill, seem very subjective and dependent on camera angle to me, while others, such as overall size, neck length, and leg length require a side-by-side comparison with a Snowy (which we didn’t have with this solo bird), so I won’t dwell on them here.

So now we have a problem. The bird that we saw has both the lacy cluster and a single stiff filamentous plume. Is it a Snowy-Little Egret hybrid or simply a Snowy Egret with an odd plume? Here’s where opinions differ, with no definitive answer to that question (see here and here). Some experts seem to believe that the combination of long plumes and clustered feathers is evidence of hybridization, which is certainly a reasonable explanation. Others believe that these long plumes occur in Snowy Egrets at a low frequency, party due to them being seen in places like Texas in the 1990s, and now occasionally in California, locations where hybrids are not likely. A particularly interesting specimen was seen in Colorado with two long plumes, no frilly plumes (a combination expected for Little Egret), but with bright yellow lores, which are inconsistent with Little Egret. This bird was considered to be an aberrant Snowy. That is very interesting, and suggests that the long plumes can arise in Snowys at some low frequency. It therefore might not be so unusual for them to appear on a bird with the lacy plumes too.

It is interesting that in April and May of this year Yong Kong spotted as many as three egrets at Brig with these hybrid characteristics. Presumably our bird is one of Yong’s that has now transitioned to having salmon-colored lores. Harvey Tomlinson spotted several similar ‘hybrid’ egrets at Brig in previous years.

Although we don’t know as much as we would like to know about these birds, the bird-to-bird individual variation is the stuff of evolution in progress and sure makes it fun to look at these birds in detail. Keep your eyes and mind open.

An Interesting Phalarope

Sep 212017

Earlier this week I stopped by Whitesbog on the way to mom’s for lunch. I was a bit early, so I had an extra half hour or so before I was expected to arrive. What do you do with an extra half hour? Go birding, of course! The nearest local hotspot is Whitesbog, so off I went for what I thought would be a quick drive-through. As I pulled into the drained bog area, I found the water at nearly-perfect levels, with ample shallow water yet with exposed flats and grassy areas. The first bird that I looked at caught my attention, even while still driving. It was too white for most shorebirds, and was out in the deeper water despite being small. I stopped the car, pulled out the bins, and found myself looking at a phalarope!

Phalaropes are very small shorebirds. Here it is in comparison to a nearby Greater Yellowlegs.

That was great, but now the question became which species of phalarope was it? Here in NJ, phalaropes fall into that category of birds that occur frequently enough to recognize that they are different, but I do not see them frequently enough to feel comfortable identifying them to species without checking the field guides. In terms of abundance, Wilson’s Phalarope is the most common species here in NJ, followed by Red-necked, and with Red Phalarope being a review species that should be reported to the NJ Birds Records Committee. This bird clearly was not a Wilson’s Phalarope due to the dark eye patch, so the new default was Red-necked. But the bird was moving away, preventing high-quality photos or analysis. I tried to read this bird’s mind and anticipate where it was heading, drove to the cross-dike, and found that the bird reversed direction. Arghhh. While scoping it out, however, I spotted another nice bird, American Golden-plover. Oy! Is there such a thing as rare bird overload? The problem though, was I could hear the clock ticking and could sense mom wondering where I was and why I was late, while I was unable to get any great photos or know what this bird was. I had no choice but to get into the car and drive back to the original end of the bog and hope for better photos. I couldn’t re-find the Golden-plover, so full attention fell to the phalarope. The bird quickly flew off, landing further away from where I was, but right next to the roadway. Here was my chance. I got out of the car, grabbed a few close shots, when it once again flew past me and toward the water’s edge, finally allowing ample opportunity for documenting photos. I had to leave and hope that others would re-find it.

The mostly white bird stood out among the mostly brown shorebirds present today.

Like most phalaropes, it was very active, feeding at twice the speed of any other bird in the area.

The bill looks quite sharp and thin from this view. But notice that little bit of rusty red color on its belly. That color shouldn’t be there in a Red-necked Phalarope according to the field guides.

When I arrived at mom’s I finally had an opportunity to look at the photos. Then I became confused. This bird had far too much red on it’s belly to be a textbook Red-necked Phalarope. Could it be a Red? Look at these photos and compare it to your field guide before reading further. What do you think?

The Phalarope in flight. This was the first photo where I noticed how much of a red belly this bird had.

Here’s a nice view of the upperwings in flight.

I texted a few friends in excitement, and after lunch went back to try to re-find the bird without any time constraints. Unfortunately it was nowhere to be found (by me or by others), so all we had were the photos. So what bird are we looking at here and what are the features that we should look for when we see a phalarope at this time of year?

When the bird came into the shallow water edge, more of that rusty color could be seen.

Here we can see even more of the red belly, and get a look at its legs.

The key features to note on this bird are the black eye patch, the rusty belly, and the relatively sharp bill. As we said earlier, the black eye patch eliminates Wilson’s Phalarope. The red belly points toward Red Phalarope, but the relatively pointed bill favors Red-necked. So where does that leave us? After studying this bird and the field guides there were two options. Either my judgment of bill shape was off and this is a Red Phalarope, or the bill shape assessment was correct, and this is a stained Red-necked Phalarope. If there is one theme that I have learned in bird identification, it is that structure trumps plumage. Bird structure (size, shape, leg size, wing length, bill shape) is amazingly consistent, while plumage changes; mutations cause pigmentation issues, food choice can affect feather color, molting or feather loss results in feathers at different plumage stages, and feathers can be affected by mud or oil or staining. As one example, think back to all those Snow Geese that you see with discolored plumage on their necks or undersides.

I showed the photos to people whose opinion I trust, and everybody agreed that the bill is not blunt enough for a Red Phalarope, and they uniformly agreed that it was a stained Red-necked Phalarope.

Does staining of birds happen frequently? I already cited the example of Snow Geese, but have heard of other tough identification cases involving stained shorebirds. A quick non-exhaustive on-line search revealed a passage from a book by Scott Weidensaul where he described birds that are stained by iron oxide in the arctic mud. That would be consistent with the breeding grounds of Red-necked Phalaropes in low Arctic bogs and marshes. Another book more specifically mentions Red-necked Phalaropes in the following passage, lending support to the origin of the red color in today’s interesting bird.

American Golden-plover

Aug 312017

It was the kind of day where I just had to go out birding. The skies were clear, the temperature was ideal (in the mid-80’s), and the winds were light and coming from the west. There HAD to be something good out there, right? And even if there wasn’t, it was a perfect day to search for them, so Jeanine and I ventured out to the Sedge Islands again.

The Sedges have been good to us this year. Every trip there yields good numbers and quality of birds at close range, and there’s always the possibility of a rarity. For me, an average day at the Sedges beats a good day almost anywhere else nearby. Today my sights were set on either American Golden-plovers, which are popping up at the sod farms in nearby counties, or on one of the really unusual terns.

We arrived later than usual, with the tide already rising. Our first pass through the main flats didn’t yield anything remarkable, with the highlight being a large gathering of 70 Royal Terns. We couldn’t turn any of them into a Sandwich Tern, like we did last week. At the inlet it was relatively quiet, although its always nice to see a flock of around 30 Brown Pelicans (‘normal’ for the Sedges), and a scraggly Red Fox patrolling the beach, trying to figure out how to convert one of the Common Terns into a meal. Returning back to the main flats, most of the birds now were concentrated into a relatively small area as it approached high tide. The goal of finding an American Golden-plover became more realistic upon seeing a sizeable flock of Black-bellied Plovers gathered on the edge of the water.

Here is a portion of the gaggle of Plovers that we found today. Can you spot the American Golden-plover in the crowd? It’s in there somewhere. We’ll come back to this photo later. Notice all the plumage stages on these plovers. Click on the photo for a larger version.

Jeanine and I spotted the bird at about the same time. I don’t always know what makes a tough bird stand out, but something stood out about this bird. The Cape May school of birding would just say that it was the GISS (or ‘jizz’) of the bird. Most of the time we prefer not to see an interesting bird walking away from us when we’re working on an ID, but in this case it was very helpful, since a definitive field mark is the black undertail of the American Golden-plover compared to the white undertail of the Black-bellied Plover. That sealed the case.

I’m not always hoping to see the underside of a bird, but in this case it was helpful to see those remaining black splotches on the undertail.

We tried to approach closer, but the bird had a comfort zone, and as soon as we approached 10 ft closer, it ambled 10 ft further away. It was a fun game that we repeated a few times (we sneak closer, it shimmies further; we try a different direction, it goes in a different direction, etc. etc.) , but ultimately we were happy with our views and switched to being distracted by the terns (more about them tomorrow).

The field guide view of American Golden-plover. The combination of gold, brown, and white highlights on the feathers was delightful to view in person.

American Golden-plover feeding. Here you can see the undertail molting from black to white. Black-bellied Plovers have an all-white undertail.

American Golden-plover in flight.

Before we leave for today, it is worthwhile to compare American Golden-plover (AMGP) and Black-bellied Plover (BBPL) in more detail; what can we look for when trying to find an AMGP in a group of BBPLs? The field guides mention several field marks. American Golden-plover is a tad smaller and has a slightly smaller bill than Black-bellied Plover, but the size difference is very tough to distinguish unless you are fortunate to have a direct side-by-side comparison, and apparent size changes depending upon posture. I would consider size a secondary trait, and not one that I would use to scan through a flock. The bill size can be particularly important when the birds have completed their molt into non-breeding plumage, but again, it would be tough to use as the primary search criterion. As we mentioned earlier, the undertail color is important, but relies upon at least some remnant of breeding plumage. If the birds are in breeding plumage, this would be a good mark to search for, but it requires that they are facing sideways or away from the birder. For example, in the photo at the top of this post, all the birds are facing into the wind towards the camera, so the undertail is not visible. In flight, the underwing pattern is definitive, but that often relies up on a fleeting glimpse. All of these field marks help. Searching for golden tones to the feathers doesn’t work for me, since that seems very lighting-dependent and plumage dependent. For example, a flock of Black-bellied Plovers at this time of year can have some individuals that look nearly gray and other that have a tinge of brown. I think that we can all agree that in the photo below, even the Black-bellied Plover looks somewhat golden.

Here’s a pretty nice side-by-side comparison of an American Golden-plover on the leftt, with the more common Black-bellied Plover. Note the slightly smaller size, smaller bill, and speckled undertail of the American Golden-plover.

So what is the best field mark to start with? For me, the quickest way to scan through a mixed flock is to search for the bird with the prominent white supercilium that highlights a darker cap. Let’s re-examine the original photo that was at the top of this blog entry. Click on the photo below for a larger version, and then scan quickly looking for that bold supercilium and see if you can find the AMGP now.

Can you spot the American Golden-plover in this crowd? Click on the photo to get a larger version, and look for the prominent white supercilium.

OK, in the next photo the group has shifted slightly, and the bird is now more obvious, with the spotted undertail visible and the shorter bill. See, it’s not that hard after all, is it?

OK, now that it turned sideways and I added an arrow, the American Golden-plover is more obvious. Click on the photo for a larger version.

This was the first American Golden-plover reported in the county this year, and there were only two reports in 2016. So it definitely qualifies as a nice find.

Alcids in New Jersey

Jan 082017

A highlight of winter birding for me is looking for alcids. Sighting any member of this family of birds from land feels special because alcids spend most of their time in the open ocean. One drawback, however, is that sightings can often be less-than-optimal, either from a distance or of birds quickly flying past offshore. Because sightings can be fleeting, it is beneficial to know which alcids can be expected to appear in your area and to be prepared on how to distinguish them. I just completed my annual personal alcid refresher session, and thought it might be useful to share some general features of the alcids, and then focus on those that can been seen in my home turf of New Jersey.

A breeding colony of Common Murres. Don’t you wish that we could see this many in NJ?

The alcids are a relatively small family, with only 24 species world-wide, 21 of which occur in North America. They are strictly a northern family, not normally found south of the equator. Although most birders would probably guess that they are most closely related to penguins, they are actually more closely related to gulls. They have a completely marine lifestyle except for breeding on land. Interestingly, alcids have diverse breeding strategies, with puffins nesting in burrows, murres and Razorbills nesting on steep cliffs, Kittlitz’s Murrelets nesting on open tundra, and Marbled Murrelets nesting in trees. They are extremely proficient divers that rely on their wings for propulsion, like some ducks (Long-tailed Ducks, Eiders, and Harlequin Ducks), but unlike loons and grebes, which use their feet for propulsion. Their wings therefore are relatively short and stubby, well-designed for underwater ‘flight’, but ill-equipped for soaring. This adaption results in flights that are typically low to the water and consist of continuous wingbeats. Most alcids are counter-shaded, being mostly black on top and white below. Putting all of this together, any time I am near the shore in winter I look for smallish short-necked low-flying birds with black uppersides and white undersides that together should distinguish them from any grebes (which are not often seen in flight), loons (which are much larger), or ducks. Although these characteristics describe the family in general they don’t allow distinguishing the species. So once we spot an alcid, how do we begin to distinguish them from each other?

First of all, it is extremely useful to know that only seven alcids have been seen here in New Jersey, greatly simplifying the problem, and only five are very likely from land. A reasonable place to start is with relative abundance; which species are we most likely to find? Of the seven NJ alcids, Razorbill is by far the one most frequently observed from land, followed in frequency by Dovekie, Thick-billed Murre, Common Murre, and Black Guillemot. At the other end of the spectrum, Atlantic Puffins are rarely sighted from land, and Long-billed Murrelet has only been seen once in the state.

A second useful criterion is size. The three largest species (Thick-billed Murre 18″; Common Murre 17.5 “; Razorbill 17″) are in a similar size range as Red-necked Grebe (18″) or Black Scoter (19″), while the next two (Black Guillimot 13″; and Atlantic Puffin 12.5″) are in the same size range as Bufflehead (13.5″). At 10″, Long-billed Murrelet is noticeably smaller than Bufflehead, while Dovekie, at 8.25” is tiny, being the same size as a European Starling. Imagine trying to find a Starling floating on windy seas! Being able to estimate the size relative to the more familiar loons, grebes, or ducks in the area is a great start to the identification process.

Beyond size, what other features can we look for to distinguish these species? Most birders would rely on plumage, but with the exceptions noted below, plumage of most alcids doesn’t help me very much because most of them are black on top and white below with a white neck. So I like to focus on structure: the size, shape, and proportions of the bird. Let’s start with the most common candidate. Razorbill has a longer tail than the other alcids, extending the same length as the legs, resulting in a symmetrical, football-like appearance in flight, unlike the similarly-sized murres, where the legs extend beyond the tail. At close range, its broad bill with both horizontal and vertical white lines is distinctive.

Razorbill in breeding plumage. The blunt bill with its horizontal and vertical white lines is distinctive at close range.

Distinguishing between the murres is a challenge, since they have relatively similar plumage patterns. Thick-billed Murre is seen more frequently from shore than Common, has a blacker head, and tends to hold its bill level. It’s a heavier pot-bellied bird, so it has labored takeoffs from water. Common Murre is less common from shore than Thick-billed, has a browner head and back, and its bill tends to be held pointing upward. In winter, it has more white on the face than Thick-billed. That combination of whiter face and upturned bill makes it Red-throated Loon-like vs. Thick-billed with its level bill and darker face being Common Loon-like.

Thick-billed Murre with a Common Loon, showing the extreme size difference. Even though Thick-billed Murre is our largest eastern alcid, it is not even close to being loon-sized.

This photo of a Thick-billed Murre from Manasquan Inlet nicely shows how the longer legs protrude beyond the body. For a Razorbill, the legs extend only to the tip of the tail.

Common Murre has a noticeably browner head and back, although perhaps not always as evident as this specimen, which is from breeding season.

Dovekie is best distinguished by its tiny size and short blunt bill. They have proportionately long wings for an alcid, and because it is not very heavy, it takes off quickly from water. Its wingbeats are too fast to count or even to see. For these reasons, Pete Dunne cleverly refers to Dovekie as ‘The Bumblebee Alcid”.

The diminutive Dovekie. Notice the blunt bill and short perky tail.

Black Guillemot has the most distinctive plumage of the alcids, at least in winter when most of us get to see them. It is a pale bird, with a mostly white face and body, and large white wing patches all year. It can be seen most often on rocky coasts, where it prefers to forage. Its red legs are visible in flight.

Black Guillemot in winter. It is the only eastern alcid that is mostly white in winter. Photo by Dave Koehnlein.

Atlantic Puffin is the most recognizable alcid, at least with its oversized bright orange bill and orange legs that should be obvious in flight. It is the only eastern alcid with a black throat/collar year-round, unlike the other alcids, which have white throats in winter. Puffins like deep water of the continental shelf, so they are unlikely to be seen from shore, except perhaps after storms.

The Atlantic Puffin is unmistakable at close view. In flight, its orange bill and feet stand out. Notice its black neck, unique among our alcids in winter.

Keep an watchful eye out for this interesting group of birds. Because they are relatively uncommon, it can take some effort to find them. I have taken to sitting patiently on a folding stool at inlets in winter, scope at my side, especially on more tolerable warm and calm winter days, ideally after easterly winds have blown birds landward. Maybe I’ll see you there too.

Comparing Caspian and Royal Terns

Sep 282016

When I first started birding I had a tough time distinguishing the two largest terns in our area, Caspian Tern and Royal Tern. After all, they both have big red or red-orange bills and black caps, right? It has become much easier with time and experience, so if you have problems with these species, I’ll share a few photos and tips. But first, here’s a test: are these Royal Terns? Caspian Terns? Or a mix of both? If so, how may are Royals, and how many are Caspians? If you aren’t sure, then read on. The answer will be provided at the end of this post.

Royals, Caspians, or both?

It’s tougher when they are isolated. Royal or Caspian?

First of all, both of these terns are LARGE compared to the medium-sized Forster’s and Common Terns, and enormous compared to the tiny Black or Least Terns. The head-to-tail tern sizes according to Sibley are: Caspian 21″, Royal 20″, Sandwich 15″, Gull-billed 14″, Forster’s 13″ Common 12″, Black 9.75″, and Least 9″. So start with size to narrow down any terns that you see, especially if other terns are in the mix. Caspian averages just an inch larger than Royal, but it’s tough to distinguish them just by size unless they are side-by-side, and even then the difference between the two species is not always apparent.

The two largest tern species stick out in a group of other terns strictly by their size. Here’s two Royal Terns mixed in with and towering above Common, Forster’s and Black Terns.

A second clue can come from their abundance and breeding range. Caspian Terns breed in small numbers here in NJ; Royal Terns do not breed here, with the nearest breeding location being in the Chesapeake Bay region. In the east, Caspian Terns breed mostly in Canada and along the Great Lakes, and therefore can be seen inland in spring when they are migrating through, while Royal Terns are more southerly breeders that are nearly always near the coast. Both species start appearing here in larger numbers in late summer and early fall when they disperse from their breeding grounds or when the Caspians migrate back through. Royal Tern numbers increase first, and Caspians increase later. Although surprises can occur, it’s useful to have expectations, so look up the relative frequency and timing of these species appearing wherever you are birding.

Although expectations can help guide us, ultimately we need to get down to the key identification points. With these species, the most important characteristics are the bill and the cap. The field guides will tell us that the bill of a Royal is huge and orange-red while that of a Caspian Tern is huger and redder. And for younger birds the Royal has a yellow bill while a Caspian has a light orange bill. Really? Can we distinguish red vs orange-red and yellow vs light orange, especially when the lighting can change our perceptions? Surprisingly, the answer is yes, especially with experience or when there is a mixed flock. But another thing to look for, especially using a scope or if you get a close look, is the smudgy tip on the Caspian Tern bill. Look at the photos below for some examples.

Royal Tern in breeding plumage. Notice the orangey bill and the lack of a smudgy tip. The bill is also less bulky than that of Caspians.

Caspian Tern in near-breeding plumage. The color of the bill is on the red end of the red-orange spectrum, but by itself it’s still tough to judge confidently. The smudgy tip confirms the ID.

Perhaps the easiest distinguishing feature between these species is the cap. As you can see above, both species have all-black caps in breeding plumage, but the Caspian Tern retains that full cap much longer. Royals have the full cap from March to June, while Caspians have it from February to October. Any large terns with a ‘Friar Tuck haircut’ from June through mid-September will be Royals (although the smaller Sandwich Terns have the same look too…see below). The Caspians don’t lose as much of the black either, even late in the season, so they never reach full ‘Friar Tuck’ mode.

Four Royal Terns in late September, The complete black cap is now a ‘Friar Tuck haircut’. They have looked like this since June. Compare with the Caspian Tern photo below taken on the same day.

Three Caspian Terns in late September when they just start to lose their cap. Although there is variability in how much black remains in the cap, they never lose as much of the cap as Royal Terns. The smudgy tip is quite obvious in this close-up photo. Notice that the bill color is only slightly different from the Royal Terns in the previous photo. Look for the smudgy bill tip if you’re not sure.

An immature Royal Tern in July. Note the yellow bill, fleshy legs, black tips of the feathers on the back, and the lack of a full black cap. All are characteristics of young Royal Terns.

Look out for Sandwich Terns, which are also larger than our mid-sized terns, and also have a distinct ‘Friar Tuck haircut’. They are much more rare in NJ than Royals, and have a black bill with a yellow tip.

Here we have three Sandwich Terns next to a Royal Tern, to show the size comparison. Look for Sandwich Terns mixed in flocks of Royal Terns.

Good luck trying to find and distinguish these birds. As with all birding, it gets easier with practice. Regarding the quiz photo at the top of this page (taken in August), there are five mature Royal Terns (with the funky haircut and orange bill), two young Royal Terns (with funky haircut and yellow bill), and a single Caspian Tern (with full dark cap and deep red bill) sitting down near the center of the photo. The second photo shows a single adult Royal Tern.

Older Entries