Wednesday, June 4, 2008

central NJ grasslands


The first two weeks of June is quite possibly my favorite time to bird in New Jersey. Migration is fun and all, but I love searching for breeding birds. Its like a well studied treasure hunt; you bone up on habitat requirements and ID tips then hit the field hard. You get excellent opportunities for close behavioral observation, and of course, you can always dream of that tantalizing rare find. So when an associate called yesterday to say she had found a Sedge Wren in Somerset County, my coworker Thom and I dropped everything and were out of the door as soon as possible.

The Sedge Wren, a shy denizen of dense, grassy, and (usually) wet meadows, was once much more common in New Jersey than it is now. This species is part of a group of grassland obligate songbirds whose survival in the northeast has long been dependent on agricultural lands. An explosion of pasture farming in central New Jersey in the 19th and 20th centuries allowed these birds to flourish, but recently they have seen severe declines. Once widespread species such as bobolink, grasshopper sparrow, and eastern meadowlark have become only locally common. Other birds; sedge wren, upland sandpiper, henslow's sparrow, and dickcissel to name a few, have become exceedingly rare. The sedge wren itself has less than five known breeding records in the state in the last twenty years.

While it is true that these species existed in the northeast prior to widespread agricultural development, inhabiting natural grasslands in coastal locales like Long Island, by the 20th century their fate had been pinned to regional cattle farming. When local farmers began to dissappear in the 20th century, their tenant birds went with them. New innovations in agro-chemicals and labor saving machines were causing the practice of farming to rapidly industrialize. By the 1970s, 'agriculture' had largely given away to 'agribusiness', and the vast midwest became the undisputed center of our food production, funneling (primarily) corn into a long supply chain that ended in then relatively new supermarkets and fast food chains. Grassland birds were hit from both sides. The midwestern prairie, the stronghold of these and many other obligate species, was giving way to barren cornfields. Gluts of cheap food and fuel were driving rapid expansion out of major population centers, and the farmlands that once separated New York City from Philadelphia gave way to housing developments.

Somerset County lies at the crossroads of New Jersey's former farmland. At the turn of the 20th century, it was a vast expanse of pasture and hayfields, spanning from East Amwell practically to New Brunswick. One can only imagine the birds. Even eighty years later, large blocks of remaining grasslands were incredibly productive. Anyone familiar with the first edition of Bill Boyle's A Guide to Bird Finding in New Jersey surely recalls the entry on Beekman Lane, the Hillsborough road that bordered the eastern edge of the Orchard Road Grasslands Natural Heritage Priority Site. This was a place with an active colony of upland sandpipers, where such rare breeders as Dickcissel and Vesper Sparrow bred annually. Take a drive down Beekman now and all you'll find is Hillsborough Chase, an upscale Toll Brothers development.
Despite the loss of habitat, grasslands in Somerset & Hunterdon Counties continue to host impressive birds, such as this Sedge Wren. The continuing importance of this region for grassland bird conservation has been highlighted by the Raritan Piedmont Wildlife Habitat Partnership, a working group comprised of special interest organizations and local government dedicated to land preservation and stewardship. Some important reserves fall within the RPWHP area, including the highly successful restorations at the Negri Nepote Reserve, Duke Farms, and a large tract of preserved farmland in East Amwell. The goal now is to connect these key areas, largely through grassland restorations on public lands and aiding private landowners with the enrollment process for various federal and state wildlife habitat incentive programs. The property this bird was found on is in the RPWHP area.

From a birder's perspective, it is interesting to note the habitat- dry, upland hayfield. Definitely not what one usually pictures when they think 'Sedge Wren'. My guess is the dense, tall vegetative structure is the real key, and it just so happens this kind of habitat is usually associated with wet meadows. The bird was clearly on territory, though we were unable to confirm breeding. Definitely a great surprise on a balmy early June day! Photo by Thom Almendinger.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Sussex County Big Day

On Saturday May 10th, my girlfriend Amy, two friends, and myself set off at midnight to complete a Sussex County big day. The idea is simple; see as many species of birds as possible in the span of 24 hours. The big day is a decades old tradition among birders, a challenge to your ID skills as well as your endurance (if you've ever sorted through flocks of peeps after being awake for over 30 hours, you know what I mean). I like it because it is ultimately about avian ecology. The best way to see a bird on your big day is to have scouted out breeding birds prior to the event. In order to do that, you must be familiar with the habitat requirements and behavior of dozens of species. From there you can add to your list with migrants, which demands an understanding of how birds move across the landscape of your 'playing field'. All of this requires proper timing; your route must be planned such that it takes advantage of different species' periods of peak activity or you'll turn up empty handed.

We chose Sussex County because of its excellent avian diversity. The fact that we all live here helped too! The ridge and valley region of New Jersey is diverse in its habitat types. Throughout the day we birded in deciduous woodlands, limestone fens, dark Hemlock ravines, agricultural grasslands, and several other ecosystems. We made a valiant effort to stay on birds and keep from getting distracted by plants, though occasionally we couldn't resist. The Sussex County botany big day will be next!



Going in, my slightly overly ambitious goal was 150 species. We fell a bit short of that, but made a great showing with 140. A few bird groups gave us a bit of trouble. Our nights were a bit slow and we missed several nocturnal breeders, probably due to lack of scouting. Scrub/shrub birds also hung us up, and we failed to turn up several species that we had found on territory earlier in the week (Chat, White-eyed Vireo, Golden-winged Warbler..). We also missed several possible migrants; unfavorable weather patterns made us decide to cut planned visits to a couple migrant traps from our route to have more time to search for waterfowl and shorebirds instead. All in all, it was a great day with some really spectacular sightings. Personal hightlights included a spectacular male Cape May Warbler in Layton and several Ovenbirds engaged in courtship behaviors, making an entirely bizarre upslurred vocalization that was almost reminiscent of a Gray-cheeked Thrush. Here is our species list:

Canada Goose
Wood Duck
Mallard
Green Winged Teal
Ring-necked Duck
Common Merganser
Red-breasted Merganser

Ring-necked Pheasant
Ruffed Grouse
Wild Turkey

Common Loon
Pied-billed Grebe
Double-crested Cormorant
Great Blue Heron
Green Heron

Turkey Vulture
Osprey
Bald Eagle
Northern Harrier
Sharp-shinned Hawk
Cooper's Hawk
Northern Goshawk
Red-shouldered Hawk
Broad-winged Hawk
Red-tailed Hawk
American Kestrel

Virginia Rail
Sora
Common Moorhen
Killdeer
Greater Yellowlegs
Lesser Yellowlegs
Solitary Sandpiper
Spotted Sandpiper
Least Sandpiper
Wilson's Snipe

Mourning Dove
Rock Pigeon
Black-billed Cuckoo
Yellow-billed Cuckoo
Barn Owl
Eastern Screech Owl
Great Horned Owl
Barred Owl
Ruby-throated Hummingbird
Belted Kingfisher
Pileated Woodpecker
Red-bellied Woodpecker
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker
Downy Woodpecker
Hairy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker

Acadian Flycatcher
Alder Flycatcher
Least Flycatcher
Eastern Phoebe
Great Crested Flycatcher
Eastern Kingbird
Blue-headed Vireo
Yellow-throated Vireo
Warbling Vireo
Red-eyed Vireo
Purple Martin
Tree Swallow
Northern Rough-winged Swallow
Bank Swallow
Cliff Swallow
Barn Swallow
Blue Jay
American Crow
Common Raven
Black-capped Chickadee
Tufted Titmouse
Red-breasted Nuthatch
White-breasted Nuthatch
Brown Creeper
Carolina Wren
House Wren
Winter Wren
Marsh Wren
Golden-crowned Kinglet
Ruby-crowned Kinglet
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
Eastern Bluebird
Veery
Hermit Thrush
Wood Thrush
American Robin
Gray Catbird
Northern Mockingbird
Brown Thrasher
European Starling
American Pipit
Cedar Waxwing
Blue-winged Warbler
Northern Parula
Yellow Warbler
Chestnut-sided Warbler
Magnolia Warbler
Cape May Warbler
Black-throated Blue Warbler
Yellow-rumped Warbler
Black-throated Green Warbler
Blackburnian Warbler
Yellow-throated Warbler
Pine Warbler
Prairie Warbler
Blackpoll Warbler
Cerulean Warbler
Black-and-White Warbler
American Redstart
Worm-eating Warbler
Ovenbird
Northern Waterthrush
Louisiana Waterthrush
Common Yellowthroat
Hooded Warbler
Scarlet Tanager
Eastern Towhee
Chipping Sparrow
Field Sparrow
Vesper Sparrow
Savannah Sparrow
Grasshopper Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Swamp Sparrow
White-crowned Sparrow
Northern Cardinal
Rose-breasted Grosbeak
Indigo Bunting
Bobolink
Red-winged Blackbird
Eastern Meadowlark
Common Grackle
Baltimore Oriole
Purple Finch
House Finch
American Goldfinch
House Sparrow

When we do a botany big day, I will NOT be typing out the entire plant list!

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Invaders in the Garden

As a committed National Public Radio junkie, I was delighted to here this story on last Thursday's episode of All Things Considered addressing the role of the horticultural industry in the proliferation of invasive plant species. In this case, the plant in question is Lythrum salicaria (Purple Loosestrife), a species that has been wreaking havoc on wetlands in the northeast United States for decades. Yet it is still readily available in many garden centers. Whats more, dozens of other commonly used landscape plants are either known to be invasive already or are waiting in the wings.

There are two prime modes by which invasive plants come to new ground. They can be introduced accidentally, such as with Microstegium vimineum (Japanese Stiltgrass) which arrived as packing material for shipping containers. More commonly they are brought in purposely for use as landscape or garden plants. There is a very good reason for this, or rather there is a very good reason why plants desirable for landscaping so frequently become invasive. Many of the qualities people seek in landscape plants are the very same that make them so excellent at slipping out into natural areas.

The landscape bed is a tough place to live. The soil is heavily disturbed, often coated with mulch or sometimes (I wish I was making this up) shredded tires. Pesticides are used to suppress undesirable plants. Good landscape stock has to tolerate such stresses, and species are selected and bred such that they can. Further, a garden can be anywhere and subject to any number of conditions. Dry, wet, shady, sunny, disturbed by salt, etc....the better a plant can tolerate such stresses the more it will sell.

Such is the story of Berberis thunbergii (Japanese Barberry), a lowly member of the Berberidaceae with little to define it except for a crop of bright red berries and willingness to be pruned into any shape desired without consequence. The secret to this unassuming plant's popularity, to the point where you are hard pressed to find a corporate office landscape display without one, is the fact that it will grow anywhere. You can put one in a five foot diameter island in the middle of a parking lot and completely cover its roots with bright white gravel (another landscape convention I will never understand) and it will do just fine. This uncanny ability for survival is exactly what has allowed it to flourish in New Jersey woodlands. Rising densities of white-tailed deer slowly depleted native shrub layers, and Japanese Barberry moved in to take its place. The deer would not eat it (yet another excellent quality for both a landscape plant and an invasive) and continued targeting dwindling native plant populations. The end result is acres upon acres of woodland where Japanese Barberry is virtually the only species in the shrub layer.

The same scenario has more or less played out for other invasives. The driving factor may not always be herbivory, but the basic issue is always the same; a fundamental alteration of some natural ecosystem process that presents these 'generalist' introduced species with a competitive advantage. If you consider biological invasions from a Darwinian perspective, the notion does not make complete sense. After all, how can an outsider plant out compete a species adapted to live exactly where it is living; fine tuned by millions of years of evolution to fit perfectly into its niche? The answer is simple, through much of the world humans have changed all the rules.

In New Jersey, nearly all of the forest we have is less than one hundred years old. Prior to that, the land on which is stands had been cleared and committed to agriculture. Whats more, these secondary woodlands did not rise to reforest all of the areas on which trees stood prior to human habitation. Instead the state has become a mosaic of woodlands, farm fields, and the lawns and landscape beds of housing developments. Clearly the conditions in these new woodlands were not the same as the old. Drastic changes in soil chemistry, herbivore communities, and landscape composition shattered the native plant's advantage. This is not the forest to which they are adapted and the generalists, most of which are non-native, have been allowed to run wild.

This gets to the heart of the greatest challenge of modern environmental stewardship; how do we foster whole, functioning ecosystems on a landscape that has been so fundamentally altered? There is no single answer to this question, but one issue most of the ecological community agrees is at the forefront in terms of importance is the on-going spread of invasives. The sale of such plants threatens the welfare of our natural areas and renders the hard work of many land managers a losing battle. Lacking good regulation, the best way we can move the horticultural industry in a more earth friendly direction is through education. There are many excellent resources that will help you identify invasives that may be lurking in your garden or at your local plant supplier. I suggest starting with the The Nature Conservancy's Global Invasive Species Team page. Learn what to watch out for and you'll be on your way to being an ecologically responsible gardener!

Here's a few bad ones for NJ that are "under the radar", so to speak. To the best of my knowledge, all of these can be readily purchased and some I've noted are heavily used.

Miscanthus sinensis (Chinese Silvergrass)- This ridiculous looking plant can be found on every other front lawn from Bergen County to Cape May. Though it is not widely naturalized, where it has stepped out of the garden it has shown a disturbing tolerance to a variety of conditions and habitat types (a great trait from a landscape plant, remember?). If you want to see a particularly bad infestation of this stuff, head for Duke Farms in Hillsborough. In the interest of full disclosure, I work at Duke Farms in their Environmental Stewardship department. So make sure you come quick before we eradicate it all.

Ranunculus ficaria (Lesser Celandine, Fig Buttercup)- A delightful little yellow flower that makes great early season groundcover and is capable of completely (and I mean COMPLETELY) dominating a floodplain herb layer. Its rather bizarre life history; the plant is capable of reproducing by seed, tuber, and bauble; allow it to sweep new areas quickly.

Aralia elata (Japanese Angelica Tree)- Personally I don't know why anyone would use this plant in landscaping, unless you're going for the 'JRR Tolkien thorny forests on the slopes of Mordor' effect. It is truly nasty looking stuff. However, it is becoming a larger threat in the Mid-Atlantic Region.

Rhodotypos scandens (Jetbead)- This shrub has been used in American horticulture for decades, but only recently has been identified as an invasive species. Just goes to show you how difficult identifying the potential for a plant as an invasive can be.

Also, if you feel as good about that NPR piece as I do, head over the comments section of NPR's website and write Michele Norris some fan mail. She did decide to pull her Purple Loosestrife out, after all!

Monday, March 31, 2008

slow birding

Several weekends ago, I was birding at the Paulinskill Wildlife Management Area, a favorite local spot of mine. I had just parked my truck and stood alongside the road, hands in my pockets, listening. At first nothing...it was dead quiet in contrast to the din of car engine and radio I was lost in moments ago. Then slowly dead silence resolved into quiet babble. There was the high, sharp notes of titmice overhead. The short, agitated clucks of a nuthatch came from off to my left. The thin, wispy calls of Cedar Waxings drifted across the breeze. A cacophony of urgent chip notes gave away my quarry, a feeding flock of sparrows.

Grassy alleys wove in among dense shrub thickets, primarily of Multifloral Rose and Japanese Honeysuckle. Dozens of sparrows scratched about on the ground, producing a soft, constant rustle as if someone was ceaselessly crinkling a paper bag in their hands. Quick, furtive movements could be seen throughout the underbrush. There was a brief flash of rufous. A fox sparrow perhaps? I brought my hands out of pockets and held my binoculars lightly, preparing to scan. I took a deep breath and I pished.

For the unintiated, 'pishing' is a catch-all term for the battery of noises meant to drive birds completely crazy and make birders look completely ridiculous. It includes exaggerated shushing sounds, kissy face squeaks, and sharp chips produced by sucking on the back of your hand. All are meant to emulate noises birds make when they are agitated, such as when a predator approaches. Think of it as the universal bird code to say, 'Stop and pay attention, trouble is near!!!'. It is a wonderful piece of interspecific adaptation. One alarm call and everybody in the area, from kinglets to jays, is on high alert.

Birds are incredibly curious creatures. They are not often content to simply know that danger is afoot. They want to see what exactly is going on. When pishing, birders use this curiosity to their advantage, luring skulky individuals out into the open and gaining clear, identifiable looks. This is precisely what happened when I pished at these sparrows. Almost immediately the rustling ceased and several hopped up to the highest branches of the shrubs in which they fed. I scanned fast; a dozen or so Song Sparrows and several White Throated Sparrows regarded me back. One close individual gave me what I can only imagine is the avian version of a withering glance and the birds vanished into the brush. The ensuing silence was perforated only by a single titmouse who was not so quick to deem that I was no threat and hopped nervously along a branch just eight feet above my head, scolding me in threes.

Such is pishing; effective yet fleeting. Before long, birds will recognize a false alarm and vanish once again. Using this approach, your success relies on your ability to sort through and quickly identify individuals. Not surprisingly it can be vexing for beginners, or for someone who is in a new locale where they do not know the avifauna well. It also makes it difficult, if not impossible, to observe behavior. You see birds in only one state, highly agitated, and I can assure you that will be any species at its least interesting.

Awhile later I was standing a bit downslope, having followed the flock of sparrows into a sunny glade. This time I made no noise and I stood as still as was comfortable. As before dozens of birds flitted among the bushes. My eyes chased brown flashes in and out of shadows, but I let my binoculars hang motionless around my neck and I waited. Ten or more minutes had elapsed before the first intrepid bird hopped out of cover to forage in the grass, an especially brawny looking Song Sparrow. This bird was joined by others; first more song sparrows, then white throateds, and a single field. Several more minutes passed and a fox sparrow, an especially shy species, emerged from the depths of a nearby rose tangle. By now many birds were feeding out in the open, indifferent to my presence. I stood transfixed, not focusing on any single bird, but taking in the entire scene all at once. The spell was broken when a fox, unaware of my presence, came trotting along her trail and approached within ten feet of me before realizing the error. We both started and she turned and ran back from where we came. Immediately the air was filled with alarm calls and the sparrows that had been feeding in my midst vanished once again.

When I go out into the field, I pay close attention to my mood. Wild creatures are highly acute. They have to be; if you are not constantly aware you get eaten or conversely, miss your chance to eat. Nervousness, anxiety, frustration...these are all states of being that a bird will be able to sense even in the slightest. They are also conditions we frequently cope with in our busy, modern society. When we try to go from our world into nature without letting these emotions go, we see very little. Animals flee from us, so we resort to pishing. Instead of taking the time to fall into rhythm with the birds' world, we spread our own agitation around to draw them out. In the end we not only distract birds from their typical behavior, we miss an opportunity for more acute observation.

Here are a few guidelines if you wish to try such an exercise yourself. It really is pretty simple stuff. I will be the first to admit that I am FAR from an expert woodsman yet the difference "slow birding" made in my second encounter with the sparrows is striking.
  • Before you go out, take a deep breath. Try and push your human world concerns aside. Relax, quiet your mind, and open up your senses. This is your time to interact with nature, don't spoil it by fretting over grocery shopping or whatever else!
  • Go slow. We have all experienced the jolt of excitement when we come across a large concentration of birds. Immediately your mind is tearing around at one hundred miles an hour and you're frantically trying to determine where to look first. Don't fall into this trap! Move slowly, a wild animal will associate quick jerky movements and an excited temperament with danger and be gone before you have time to raise your binoculars. Trust in the fact that if you provide no disturbance, birds will have no reason to defer from feeding or whatever else they're up to.
  • Familiarize yourself with bird language. By this I do not mean the identification of birds by ear (although that is helpful as well, see below). Listen to the calls you hear and pay attention to the mood. An annoyed bird is just as easily identifiable as an annoyed person. If the birds in your vicinity are excited, its probably time to stand quietly and wait.
  • Minimize binocular use. The best way to freak a bird out is to put a pair of three inch wide, shiny eyes on it. Try to practice identifying birds without using your binoculars at all. You'll be surprised at how close some individuals will get if you're still and quiet. Knowing a variety of call notes is also very helpful. If you're looking through a flock of warblers consisting of some two hundred Yellow Rumps with maybe a few different species mixed in, knowing a rump call note will allow you to key in on something that sounds different. Concentrate on learning the species you most commonly encounter first, both by voice and by unaided sight. Reserve the binoculars for something that seems unusual.
  • Stand still. Wilderness educator and bird language guru Jon Young says you must be still and quiet for 15 minutes before birds will become acclimated to your presence. Who knows what you might see then! Birds are rich in behavior, there is always something new and fascinating to learn about even the most common species. Such a practice will also sharpen your ID skills by forcing you to pay attention to detail. Such careful observation feeds directly into your "search image" for a particular creature. This is another instinctive behavior birders use, whether one realizes it or not. Maximize your search potential by observing birds in all states.
This is a topic that I am very much a beginner student in, so I will surely be writing about it more. Go out and give it a try and let me know how it works! If you feel like you can't suitably remove yourself from your life at the time, do what I do: look at plants instead. Thats the best thing about our photosynthetic friends, they're pretty hard to bother unless you step on them!

Lycopodium digitatum A. Br., Bashakill WMA