We watched as two black and white woodpeckers—one large and one small—danced their way up and around the bare tree branches. The littler of the two, with its stubby bill, was a downy woodpecker. It zipped about, hanging upside-down like a chickadee as it tapped at the tree bark for insects. The other, a hairy woodpecker, was slightly larger with a longer, black bill. It lurched its way towards the canopy, uttering singular chirps as it climbed. A third bird flew in and landed just out of sight. At first, I thought it might be another woodpecker, but when it hopped into the light I caught a glimpse of a bright, yellow patch at the base of its back. “Butter butt!” murmured half the group.
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| The orno gang. |
On a crisp November morning, my ornithology class was back in the field at Lake Logan in search of fall and early winter migrants. Dr. Miles had brought along a scope in hopes of spotting a common loon silhouetted against the misty water. A few pied-billed grebes popped up from the lake bottom, but no loons appeared. We moved through the underbrush, scribbling on notepads as white-throated sparrows and American goldfinches darted away. “I was hoping we would see a few butter butts,” Miles said as we headed to our next destination.
The Yellow-rumped Warbler is lovingly nicknamed the “butter butt” by birders for the distinct patch of yellow on its backside—a trait shared by both sexes. Unlike other local warbler species, most of which migrate through Ohio or stop here in the summer to breed, the butter butt overwinters in lower latitudes before traveling to nest in the Canadian arctic and Alaska (as well as a patchy distribution in the western US). Most warblers molt into drab non-breeding plumage in winter, and the yellow-rumped is no exception. However, its distinct yellow hindquarters remain just as vibrant throughout the year.
It wasn't until our last stop that we finally encountered our butter butt. As we watched, the little, gray bird began feeding on berries, allowing for excellent views and dozens of photographs. Despite its washed-out attire (summer birds exhibit striking black breast stripes and gunmetal-gray heads), the warbler was still a welcome surprise. Feint yellow streaks were visible on its flanks as it quivered from one branch to the next. Butter butts are relatively reliable in the winter woods of Southern Ohio. Some northern breeders, however, are much more sporadic.
This season, Ohio is scheduled to receive an irruption of several northern species. A poor birch and cone seed crop in Canada has pushed many seed-feeding species out of the arctic and into northern states. One bird species of notable significance is the red-breasted nuthatch. A few of these small cousins of the white-breasted nuthatch usually make it to Ohio each winter. Some years they don't turn up at all. Until this fall, I had never seen one of these northern residents. One trip to Stroud's Run State Park in Athens resulted in a dozen or more of these charismatic creepers feeding in the canopy above me.
With their orange-dyed belly, blueish back, and black and white head stripes, red-breasted nuthatches rival any warbler for beauty. When feeding, they are easily located by their nasally yank-yank call, slightly softer than the call of a white-breasted nuthatch. While easy to hear, they can be challenging to see (and even harder to photograph) as they feed primarily on pine cone seeds at the very tops of coniferous trees. Their small stature allows them to disappear among the tangles of branches only to reappear dangling upside down from a pine cone. They will occasionally work their way into the understory as they search for food, though they remain flighty and shy.
It remains to be seen what other northern residents will find their way to Ohio. I've kept an eye on the eBird reports, hoping that a red crossbill, evening grosbeak, common redpoll, or purple finch will turn up in my vicinity. More info on this winter's migrants can be found at Jeaniron.ca.
More soon!
Keep living the field life.
RBW
