Seven birds to ring in the new year
Hint: They're all woodpeckers.
Welcome to Owl My Children, a monthly newsletter where I tell you a bird anecdote and reveal that I am a superstitious procrastinator.
Happy last day of 2023! On this day each year, I tend to feel overwhelmed with last-minute to-do list items such as do laundry, clean apartment, read an entire book in order to meet my Goodreads goal, write last newsletter of 2023, see as many birds as possible before eBird re-sets my yearly count. As if my inability to meet my goals will carry over into 2024 like an ominous black cloud.
Instead of scrambling to do ALL THE THINGS, I could just have a nice day catching up on Singles Inferno in my jammies. But no! I am nothing if not an overachiever. So here is a newsletter to appease the New Year gods!
Finding birds in the worst weather
I mentioned the Christmas Bird Count in my last newsletter, so I thought I’d share an update about my first Pittsburgh CBC.
For those who don’t know about the CBC, it’s basically a national bird census sponsored by the National Audubon Society. It started in 1900 as a way to promote bird conservation by counting birds instead of hunting them. Now, there are established 15 mile-diameter circles across the country where birders go out and try to count every individual bird within the circle. It’s a team effort, and each circle is organized by a specific person (aka the “count compiler”).
In the past, I’ve always done the CBC with the Feminist Bird Club in Madison. A big group of us would meet in the local cemetery at 5:30 AM and wander around in the dark looking for owls. It was usually freezing outside and both of my feet would be numb before the sun came out, but it was a nice way to meet new birders and get outside during a time of year when it’s much easier to stay inside and pretend nature doesn’t exist. (There was a lot of snow on the ground for my first CBC, and in the eerie pre-dawn cemetery light, we heard a chilling scream and saw—a fox! So cool!)
For this year’s Pittsburgh CBC, Michael and I were assigned to cover Emerald View Park on our own. This park is on top of Mount Washington and rarely gets covered during the annual CBC, so we were happy to do the job. Plus, there’s a good diner up there, so I figured we could treat ourselves to breakfast afterwards.
Pittsburgh’s count day was yesterday, Dec. 30. All week leading up to the count, the weather was scarily warm; Christmas Day hit 60 degrees! But of course a cold front came in on Friday, and we woke up for our count day to the sound of rain against our windows. It was 35 degrees.
When we got out of the car, I was worried that we wouldn’t see any birds at all. Emerald View Park is on the side of a mountain that looks over the Monongahela River, so it usually has lovely views—but yesterday it was all fog and rain. We couldn’t see across the river. The wooded trails were dripping with cold rain, and the wind was icy.
I stood forlornly for a moment next to an empty playground, but then I heard house finches singing, and a song sparrow rustled in a stick pile nearby. We found a trail that was teeming with woodpeckers, nuthatches, and chickadees. They were all very busy, chattering and flitting around, collecting food. It was like they were used to the cold, or something.
We birded for about two hours in the foggy rain, and we ended up seeing 19 species. We counted 209 individual birds, which included 106 rock pigeons. I enjoy a pigeon as much as the next person, but my favorite birds of the day were the woodpeckers. They always remind me that birding in winter can actually be fun!
Counting birds on the side of a very cold mountain. [Photo by Michael]
The joy of winter woodpeckers
Winter is one of the best times to see woodpeckers. That’s because many woodpecker species don’t mind the cold and are considered “residents,” meaning they remain in the same place year-round. They’re easier to see in the winter because the trees lose their leaves. Woodpeckers also get territorial in late winter/early spring as they prepare for nesting season, so they’re more likely to “drum” on trees. (Did you know both female and male woodpeckers drum, and they do so to attract mates and establish territories? I’m pretty sure someone once told me that drumming stuns bugs inside the tree—which is not true at all! They don’t actually drum when looking for food, though they might make drumming sounds when excavating holes in trees for nesting purposes.)
Another reason woodpeckers are such fun birds is that they make lots of noises aside from drumming. They have silly voices and they like to yell. They all sound really similar at first, but once you hear them enough, they begin to sound more distinct. Woodpeckers are one of the first birds I learned to identify by sound!
The magnificent seven
There are seven woodpecker species that breed in Pennsylvania. I saw each of these species in Madison, as well—it was an ongoing goal for me to try for a royal flush (seeing all seven local woodpecker species in one day!). I was never successful, though I did have a six-woodpecker day.
Some quick ID tips about the magnificent seven:
Downy woodpeckers
They’re small. They often visit bird feeders. (The Cornell Lab has a helpful tool for figuring out how to attract specific birds to your feeder—suet is a good food source for most woodpeckers.)
They make a cute “peep” sound. When they “whinny,” the notes of the whinny descend, i.e. “go down”—which is how you know it’s a DOWNy woodpecker!
Hairy woodpeckers
At first glance, they may look identical to downy woodpeckers. However, hairy woodpeckers are bigger with a longer bill. They are less common at feeders (and less common in general, in my experience).
Their “peep” is deeper and more resonant, and their whinny is a flat monotone that does not descend.
On the left is a male downy woodpecker (you know it’s a male because of the red tuft on the back of its head), and on the right is a female hairy woodpecker (same principle as the downy: if it has a red tuft, it’s a male). Note the bill sizes. [Both photos taken by me.]
Pileated woodpeckers
The traditional “Woody Woodpecker.” They’re HUGE birds! When they fly, they look like magnificent magical creatures! You must stop and admire them!
They’re obnoxiously loud. They do various rattle/chatter calls that go on and on and on…
They’re hard to find in Wisconsin, but apparently easy in Pittsburgh—they’re abundant at my local park.
Red-bellied woodpeckers
Common bird feeder visitors. They’re often the bullies at feeders; they like to push little birds around.
Some people accidentally call them “red-headed” woodpeckers because of their red heads, but they’re actually named for the red blush on their bellies. They were named in the 1700s, back when scientists would kill birds so they could study them up close. It’s probably a lot easier to notice the red belly when you’re holding the bird in your hand.
Often make a “rolling kwirr” call, which sounds very Cardi B-esque to me.
Red-headed woodpeckers
Hard to find. (I was told I can’t see them in Pittsburgh.) The species is in decline because they rely on the availability of dead trees in open forests, and humans have a habit of cutting down dead trees.
They have truly gorgeous red heads. Maybe “scarlet-headed woodpecker” would be more apt?
Far left: Pileated woodpecker in Pittsburgh. Top right: Red-bellied woodpecker (male; females have a gray patch on their foreheads that interrupt the flow of red). Bottom right: Red-headed woodpecker in Wisconsin. [All photos by me]
Northern flickers
In my opinion, flickers are some of the coolest birds that most non-birders don’t know about. They’re widespread across the lower 48 and pretty easy to find. They have polka dots.
Sometimes they act like woodpeckers but sometimes they’re on your neighbor’s lawn eating bugs out of the grass. They like edge habitat (i.e. forest + field, or lawns with trees); often found in urban parks.
A male Northern Flicker. (In the Eastern US, flickers are “yellow-shafted,” meaning they have yellow flight and tail feathers, and males have black mustaches. In the West, flickers are “red-shafted,” and males have red mustaches. Females of either subspecies don’t have mustaches.) [Photo by me.]
Yellow-bellied sapsuckers
The pirates of the bird kingdom. If you see a disheveled woodpecker that looks like it recently lost a fight at a dive bar, it might be a sapsucker. Their courtship behavior looks like no-contact swordfighting (their bills are the swords).
They drill holes in trees so they can drink sap. Their drumming sound is uneven, which is how you can ID them even without seeing them or hearing their call.
They’re the only completely migratory woodpeckers in North America. I only saw them briefly in Madison in the spring and fall, though I just saw one this week in PA!
This is a yellow-bellied sapsucker I saw in Hilton Head, SC. This is a female and/or juvenile; males have a distinctive red throat and crown. [Photo by me.]
North America is home to 23 woodpecker species. Maybe in 2024 you can make it a goal to see all the woodpeckers in your county!
Speaking of goals
Before I sign off and try to read 200 pages of a novel, I thought I’d outline three of my bird goals for 2024. That way you can all hold me accountable in the new year.
See a burrowing owl. I’m going to Florida with some birding friends this February in the hopes of finding this bird (as well as lots of other lifers!). Some of my favorite memories in 2023 involved birding trips, so I’m excited to do more of that this year. Maybe that’s the real goal: Go on more birding adventures with friends and family.
Participate in bird banding and/or other community science projects. I got to help band purple martins and American kestrels in Madison, and I want to figure out how to do more stuff like that in Pittsburgh.
I like the idea of getting to know one local birding place so well that I know all its secrets—the best warbler paths, the hidden owl roosts, the most mushroom-y trails and the plant-iest walks. So I might do that at Frick Park, or maybe at the cemetery nearby. Either way, I don’t want to have to drive more than 5 minutes to get there.
I’d love to hear about your #BirdGoals for 2024! I hope the new year brings you lots of new things to discover and places to explore.
Kwirr!
Holly