For many birders, the hobby of birding is at its best in the springtime. While you head out into the field, the observer of the changing landscape with all its fresh, different sights, there will be transient birds migrating through, new residents staking out territory, early breeders busy at their nests, and winter visitors moving on north. This is clearly one of the best times to survey the vast numbers of bird life on this continent and make a useful contribution to science. This is the idea behind the North American Migration Count—which is held on the second Saturday of May. Although this date falls later than the peak of spring migration for the Southeast, there should still be plenty of migrating birds moving through. Migration counts may be conducted by teams of birders or individuals, but each count area must be confined to a single county. All wild birds within the count area may be included in the tally, and the counting procedure is very simple and straightforward—like that of the Christmas Bird Count.
I was a teenager when I first participated in the North American Migration Count. The Oktibbeha Audubon Society asked me to survey a route in the southeastern part of the county. My dad and I headed out on our route at about 9:30 a.m., hitting the Bluff Lake levee first to tally any herons, egrets or songbirds that crossed over into Oktibbeha County. The morning was warm and muggy but full of birds. Very quickly we picked up Acadian Flycatcher, Common Yellowthroat, Yellow-throated Warbler, Great Crested Flycatcher, Eastern Kingbird, Prothonotary Warbler, White-eyed Vireo, Indigo Bunting and many other species in the woods, including a Ruby-throated Hummingbird feeding from Trumpet Creeper blossoms. We heard a Fish Crow and also counted many egrets flying overhead, a couple of Wood Ducks, and one Great Blue Heron, which surprisingly, would turn out to be our only one all day. Just as we were leaving the area, I glimpsed a group of three large birds flying high overhead—White Ibises.
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| Prothonotary Warbler |
We drove a little down the road, looking and listening for some of the forest species such as Red-eyed and Yellow-throated Vireo, Pileated Woodpecker, Eastern Wood-Pewee and Yellow-billed Cuckoo. By now our list was around 40 species. There were good numbers of singing Yellow Warblers, and I could make out two Northern Parulas trilling close by. As we got out to walk a trail that cut through the woods, there was a harsh chittering overhead, which alerted us to about two dozen Chimney Swifts circling. These were probably natural-nesting swifts, choosing a hollow tree over a manmade chimney.
The woods were mostly deciduous, with tall pines mixed in here and there. There were also many deep puddles of muddy water from a recent rainfall. Pine Warblers, chickadees, titmice, towhees, and vireos noisily proclaimed their territories in the dense woods, seeming almost indignant at us traipsing through their home. I accidentally flushed a Cooper’s Hawk from its roost. It flew away, disturbing the singing birds for a few minutes. I heard White-breasted Nuthatches in the distance and saw a pair of Summer Tanagers in the trees. Bird songs were not all that we heard: Gray Treefrogs were also making their presence known in the forest with low-pitched croaks.
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| Cooper's Hawk |
I had just commented to my dad on the odd absence of Kentucky Warblers, when one in a thicket burst emphatically into song. A Hooded Warbler added its short, eight-syllable whistle to the other sounds of the forest, while wrens and skinks scuttled through the thickets and leaf litter, the wrens putting in a word now and then, unlike the lizards! There was a creek by this trail where we were likely to find Louisiana Waterthrushes, and in the trees near it, American Redstarts. Unfortunately, neither species showed up for us, and eventually we moved on, making a mental note to come back to the trail later.
We went up Oktoc Road for more counting. The habitat here was mostly thickets, fields and pastures, with scattered trees, which meant a whole new group of species for us. Bluebirds and kingbirds perched on the wires; grackles and blackbirds foraged in the pastures. We were able to add Red-headed Woodpeckers and many more Cattle Egrets to the tally. Eastern Meadowlarks, Orchard Orioles, Barn Swallows and Purple Martins also put in appearances. Overhead, there were vultures, Red-tailed Hawks and a Green Heron that flew from a small pond. A little farther down the road, I heard a loud ringing song coming from a thicket—a Swainson’s Warbler. I listened to the recording on my audio field guide back in the car; no doubt about it: the song was a Swainson’s Warbler’s. Since this is a fairly scarce bird, I wrote down the location, including the mailbox number, and we headed on.
We came to a place down the road where mixed forest grew on one side and young trees and shrubs were just coming up on the other. Almost immediately our ears picked up Northern Bobwhite, Yellow-breasted Chat and one Prairie Warbler. A few more Kentucky Warblers and Indigo Buntings sang loudly, and I spotted another Summer Tanager pair. Then I noticed something lower down in an oak tree. I investigated with binoculars and found myself looking at a beautiful male Scarlet Tanager, just sitting on a limb in a little shaft of sunlight, his jet-black wings and tail contrasting with the bright-red of his body. What a treat!
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| Scarlet Tanager |
We still had to head through Starkville, so after tallying, we drove on. While in town, we saw plenty of House Sparrows and European Starlings and two Eurasian Collared Doves. Our next stop was a sewage lagoon where we supposed to locate a few ducks and shorebirds. As we began walking around the pond, we flushed bunches of Red-winged Blackbirds and saw Northern Rough-winged Swallows overhead, but the edge of the pond, choked with weeds, just didn’t look promising for sandpipers. Farther up, however, we noticed the drastic difference in the habitat. There were obvious mud flats with shorebirds feeding. Three Solitary and one Spotted Sandpiper dotted the bank with several Killdeer, too. We saw two Blue-winged Teal, a pair of Canada Geese with four large fuzzy young, and thirteen Wood Ducks—two adults and eleven ducklings.
The count list was pretty big so far, but I did notice that we were missing a few birds. We managed to find some Blue Grosbeaks by retracing our route and only counting species that were new to us, not ones we’d counted already. We managed to hear a flock of Cedar Waxwings this way, and then went to search again for the redstarts and waterthrushes.
The woods were a lot quieter now; it was about 4:00 p.m. and I doubted that we’d see the elusive species we were looking for. Although we didn’t pick up any new birds while we were there, we did see other wildlife. Butterflies fed on the flowers, Ichneumon wasps flew up from the grass, and a Southern Leopard Frog was in one of the puddles. My dad was pleased to observe a Toad Bug that I located near another pool of water. We watched it as it hopped about, its coloration blending in amazingly well with the gritty mud of its habitat.
Back in the car, we counted up the species we had found during the day: seventy-six, and hundreds of individuals all over. It had been a great count. We were both exhausted but filled with a sense of accomplishment and exciting memories of that spring day.
Even if your schedule doesn't permit you to count every bird that you see for an entire day, it’s still worthwhile to spend some time marveling at the diversity of species during this fascinating season!
