You must look closely to see the red belly on one of these woodpeckers. As a child growing up in New Jersey I had little hope of ever encountering a Red-bellied Woodpecker. They were birds of the south, although they had been seen uncommonly in the area of Long Island around the middle of the nineteenth century. One showed up in Central Park, New York in 1909, and there were only four other records in the greater New York/New Jersey area through 1940. For some unknown reason they started returning in the in the late 1950s, reaching my area of northern New Jersey only a few years after I left for good when I got drafted into the service in 1966. Now they are abundant all over the Garden State, as they are in our present home in south Florida. They are handsome birds. The male has a conspicuous red area on the top of his head that extends from nape to forehead. Sometimes you can even see his red "belly." This male is visiting a feeder at National Audubon's Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary. They are gregarious, often seen in small family groups and more often heard than seen, as this homeowner will attest as one drums loudly on the rain gutter. The red area on the female's head is limited to the nape. Here a pair explores the top of a dead Royal Palm in our neighborhood wetlands. I came upon this one while he was sunbathing. As I watched he started scratching and then rubbing his head against a branch before flying off. The related Golden-fronted Woodpecker ranges from Texas down into Mexico. The two species overlap in central Texas. This one visited a feeder in Palo Duro Canyon in the Texas Panhandle. It is a particularly beautiful bird. A third similar species, the Gila Woodpecker, is restricted to the arid southwestern US-- southern Arizona and extreme southern California. It looks like a drab version of the Red-bellied. The red is confined to a small patch atop the head of the male. I photographed this one in the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum in Tucson. The Gila Woodpecker favors Saguaro Cactus, in which they excavate unique cavities in the spiny plant's soft wet pulp. They must wait several months for the walls to dry into a durable hard enclosure.
One bird that can be counted on to arrive at our neighborhood lakes by the middle of April is the Least Tern (Sternula antillarum). While it is the smallest of the tern family at about 9 inches long with a wingspan of 20 inches, it makes up for its small size with graceful energetic flight, strident calls and interesting behaviors. Four Least Terns arrived on our lake on April 5th, apparently three males and one female. One of the males was in the early courtship stage, posturing before the female and bringing her fish, which she at first refused.
The pair engaged in recognition displays. I expected that soon they would be in full courtship mode, with the male offering gifts of small fish.
The male and female plumage is very similar. During breeding season, the larger males are said to have brighter orange-yellow bills, legs and feet, though this is not always noticeable. Note that the male, on the left, is a bit larger and has a brighter yellow bill than the female. This video, "A Tern is Spurned," documents his failure as a suitor. It is best viewed full-screen (If the video fails to load, visit this link.)
Most mornings I watched the terns' behavior from the shade of this little tree at the end of a peninsula, very near the rocks where they like to roost. Although it was impossible to identify the individual males, the bonded couple appeared to stay together and they chased off the other males if they tried to roost with them. The calm was disturbed when one of the unpaired males flew in and began a bill-up display. The established male blocked the interloper and then chased him away. The unwelcome third tern kept an eye on the pair from a nearby rock.
First one, and then the other male disappeared, and on April 15th and 16th, only one male and female remained. Presumably, the male was the "Spurned Tern." Having failed in his attempts at ceremonial courtship, the male tried a new tack-- he would impress his prospective mate with his fishing prowess. The couple was already on the lake when I arrived before sunrise on April 16th. In the semi-darkness I photographed the male hovering and diving for fish. (Taken at f/5.6 1/640 sec at ISO 1000).
He succeeded and brought home an actively wiggling minnow. Dispensing with the feeding ritual, he simply dropped the struggling fish, missed the the female's waiting jaws and quickly flew off, not noticing that she failed to acquire a proper hold. The minnow slipped out of her bill and she tried to retrieve it, but the little fish escaped back into the water. There are three distinct populations (subspecies) of Least Terns in the US. One group nests in limited areas on the beaches of western Mexico and California. A second finds sandy places to nest along rivers and streams in the mid-west. Both of these populations are of particular conservation concern. With protection of its nesting areas, the endangered California population has increased from less than 600 pairs in 1974 to over 4500 pairs, while the interior subspecies have increased to 7,000 pairs from a low of 1,000 pairs in 1985 . Our Florida birds belong to the third subspecies, which breeds up and down the entire US Atlantic coast, wintering in the Caribbean and along the east coast of Central and northern South America. All three populations face threats from human activities, notably destruction of beaches and loss of beach and stream-side habitat. Plume hunters took a huge toll in the late 1800s-- I have seen photos of ladies' dainty hats adorned with the whole bodies of one or more Least Terns. Though not on the Endangered Species list, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service lists the east coast Least Terns as a Species of Management Concern.Their swift erratic flight makes it difficult to photograph a Least Tern in flight.
Once bonded, the pair stays loyal to each other for the entire breeding season. The male must prove his prowess as a provider by catching fish and offering it to his intended mate. Following the age-old Least Tern courtship ritual, the female waits patiently while her suitor hunts for a small fish. When he catches one, he calls excitedly and flies toward the female's position, sometimes adding a dramatic flourish by swooping past her. The female eagerly awaits his arrival, calling back and begging. I captured the courtship ritual during the spring of 2013 in this video, best if viewed full-screen . (If the video fails to display, click on this link).
I am quite sure that Least Terns have nested on the gravel roofs of an elementary school and a strip mall in our neighborhood. Young terns are precocious and are able to walk about soon after hatching, but they remain dependent upon their parents until they move south in late summer. In late summer, 2012 I watched these two immature terns as they were being trained to fish by their parents. The adults would catch a fish and make their youngsters chase after them. The adults would then drop the fish in the water and fly down as if to get to it before the "trainees." If not retrieved, the parents would pick up the fish and try all over again. Note that the white area on the forehead of the adult, to the left in this photo, is enlarging. After breeding the adults' bills and feet also become darker.
Least Tern immature in flight, July 27, 2011.
First-year birds may remain on their wintering grounds through the next breeding season.
It is impossible to pass by a cardinal without taking a second look, or a photo (usually many) if camera is in hand. As a child I remember my grandmother called it a "Redbird," and that name stuck until I got my first bird book. I didn't know it, but way back then the New York City area was only beginning to celebrate the return of this species. During the first quarter of the 20th Century it had inexplicably withdrawn from the northern limits of its range. Ludlow Griscom wrote, in 1923 (Birds of the New York City Region, Amer. Mus. Nat. Hist., NY), that the "Eastern Cardinal" had been "extirpated" from the area. Its return to my home turf in New Jersey during the 1930s and 40s was variously attributed to milder winters and the increasing number of bird feeding stations. I was gifted with a copy of Allan Cruickshank's 1942 edition of Birds Around New York City, which became my point of reference when I found an unusual bird or one during an unexpected time of year. Cruickshank described the cardinal as "...slowly but steadily re-establishing itself northward... Like all permanent residents which reach the northern limits of its range here, the Cardinal is subject to severe winter killings." Later, John Bull would write: "The increase and spread of the Cardinal in the New York City region, as well as throughout most of the northeast, particularly since the mid-1940s, and more especially in the 1950s, has been positively phenomenal. Few, if any, species have made such gains" (Birds of the New York Area, 1962). Since that time we have seen extraordinary range expansions of other bird species, for example the House Finch, Cattle Egret, Boat-tailed Grackle, White-winged Dove, Eurasian Collard-Dove and the steady northward shift of the breeding grounds of many native land birds. In the above portraits I have provided equal space for both male and female Northern Cardinals, for if one captivates us with color, the other subdues us with softness. Cardinals may be North America's most welcome visitors to water features and back yard feeders. Because I took up photography after moving to the sunny South, I suffer a notable absence of images of red cardinals on white snow, a magnificent combination. However, if you look closely at this coy female peering around our daughter's feeder in Illinois, you may catch a few snowflakes. In the interest of fairness, I should also embarrass this adolescent male before he has time to dress in his finery. Note the dark bill which will become fully red as an adult. An adult male in molt can be a sorry sight. I can't blame him for hiding behind a leaf!
