The Bohemian waxwings are coming
It was difficult to concentrate and count with the din of bird sound in the forest all around. The place was swarming with robins. They were singing actual summer-like songs and giving excited alarm calls as they fed in the dogberry trees interspersed liberally among the fir and larch forest.
Saturday morning last week was cool and clear, and — dare I say — almost calm. Any wind under 20 km/hr feels as good as calm on the Avalon Peninsula at this time of year.
I was wanting to do some birding off the Avalon Peninsula for a change. The isthmus is barely, if at all, depending on your definition, off the Avalon Peninsula, but it was still a change. A cold vapour mist was rising off the salt water at Bellevue in the silver light of the dawn as I arrived.
I walked out on the point past the graveyard. With a spotting scope I counted 49 great cormorants stretching and yawning on the rock where they roosted all night. An early rising flock of 10 purple sandpipers played tag with the water lapping around an isolated rock soon to be covered by the rising tide. Many red-breasted mergansers were already busy feeding off the main beach and in the channel. Perhaps they had been feeding through the night.
The tide was already high enough to cover the tidal flats where gulls and a couple of unusual winter shorebirds have been feeding this month. A careful scan along the main beach turned up the red knot and black-bellied plover searching for food where the waves washed up over the ice coated sand. Three Bonaparte’s gulls and a black-headed gull were actively catching small fish in the shallows next to the beach. Bellevue Beach never fails to entertain the bird watcher no matter what the time of year. With some more places scheduled to check along the isthmus I departed Bellevue early.
Just before getting back out to the Trans-canada Highway my progress was halted by the sight of a flock of birds decorating the top of a fir tree. The sulphur yellow under bellies glowing in the crisp morning light showed they were cedar waxwings. I counted 115 sitting in two trees.
It was difficult to concentrate and count with the din of bird sound in the forest all around. The place was swarming with robins. They were singing actual summer-like songs and giving excited alarm calls as they fed in the dogberry trees interspersed liberally among the fir and larch forest. There was an air of excitement among the activity. More robins were dropping out of the sky to join the feeding frenzy.
Dozens of pine siskins and goldfinches were feeding on the cones of the fir trees. Juncos and chickadees were foraging in the roadside alders. Even a downy woodpecker flew out of the woods to the top of a telephone pole to see what all the fuss was about. It was one big noisy bird party on both sides of the road on a quiet early Saturday morning. It must have been a spontaneous event that no one could have predicted. The woods on this part of the road were no different than anywhere else.
I spent time searching through the robins hoping to find a European thrush, a little nugget of gold sometimes present with the Newfoundland winter robins. I was wooed by the perfectly pretty cedar waxwings and looked through them for the somewhat sexier Bohemiain waxwing. No such luck today.
A pure flock of 115 cedar waxwings was a large flock for Newfoundland. Perhaps it was not so surprising considering there were good number of nesting cedar waxwings around the island in the summer of 2017. But where were the Bohemian waxwings? With all these berries for the taking where were the master dogberry chasers?
The same question was being asked across eastern Canada. The hub of nesting Bohemian waxwings is the boreal forest across the western half of Canada. In the winter, they gather in flocks and spread out across Canada looking for berries. Usually you can track their progress eastward through the winter. Ontario gets the first wave of Bohemians followed by a show of them in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. Sometimes the wave stops short of Newfoundland. This winter the birders in those provinces were curious about the lack of Bohemian waxwings. However, in the past week there has been an unexpected and encouraging sign on the island of Newfoundland. Bohemian waxwings have been reported from the Northern Peninsula, central Newfoundland and Bonavista Peninsula and Clarenville. Not just little groups but big flocks. Darroch Whittaker counted 500 in one flock at Rocky Harbour. Trace Stagg posted a video on the Newfoundland birdwatching Facebook page of a flock too big to count at Lumsden. This is looking good — real good. I am thinking the waxwings came from the north via Labrador after skipping southern Ontario and the Maritimes. Get set for a waxwing invasion. God knows we have enough dogberries this winter to keep every Bohemian waxwing fat until spring. Keep an eye on that dogberry tree nearest you.