Steamy July birding

The alarm clock struck 6am and it was still 69 degrees out. The 3 “H’s” were going to make a third appearance this week.

Pouring myself into my kayak I took great joy in knowing that I would be birding atop a glistening river where tall trees along the shoreline, create a temperature-dropping shade to hide myself and rejuvenate.

With beaver dam obstacles, low-growing alder shrubs, and the occasional deer fly all behind me I can now focus on my task of surveying another boreal forest habitat for resident birds. I’m on “part two” of my Chubb River survey. Part one was from the DEC Canoe Access Site (along Averyville Rd in Lake Placid) to the 1/4 mile “carry” skirting some rapids and waterfalls. Part two is from the end of the carry to about a mile further up stream.

As I plop back into my kayak at the end of the carry, I hear the sounds of warblers and flycatchers nearby. I conduct this survey by listening to all bird vocalizations and recording them during a 10-minute point count. I have 5 points on this section of the River.

Suddenly I find myself writing down bird names furiously as they blend their songs and call notes into a chaotic melody. After 3 minutes I tick off Northern Parula Warbler, Alder Flycatcher,  Purple Finch, Magnolia Warbler, and Swainson’s Thrush.

Well,  I have to say, I’m surprised at the liveliness of the birds this hot, early morning. I was expecting a quiter survey. But once again the birds prove me wrong and belt out song after song in the steamy, jungle-like humidity of an Adirondack(?) summer.

My next three point counts continued along with the same unexpected results. Birdsong seems to filter down from the tall conifers and out onto the flat layer of sedges that line the river’s edge. Singing White-throated Sparrows sit among the conifer branches, and Yellow-bellied Flycatchers, and Nashville Warblers top-off this Adirondack symphony from their hidden perches in the alder shrubs.

I finally make my way to the 5th and final point count of the morning. I’m still in a marshy habitat along the river with sedges, alders, and grasses towering over me and my kayak. Then, just beyond my line of sight, falling somewhere outside of my imaginary 50 meter circle that I sit in, I hear the emphatic request…”Quick-Three-Beers” of the Olive-sided Flycatcher

To me, no other bird carries the boreal region in it’s song more so than this bird. I long to hear those notes off in the distance on some far-off peatland or conifer swamp, telling me that it has safely arrived on the breeding grounds.

To our dismay the Olive-sided population, across the country, has dropped precipitously and ornithologist are scrambling to figure out the cause. Loss of habitat on breeding grounds?  Loss of habitat on wintering grounds? Answers elude us.

All the other birds I hear on this steamy morning share their notes with the landscape, and to one another. And they all go on with their lives having dodged disaster after disaster on yearly flights North and South. As they sing along this river they speak volumes to those who will listen.

Photo Credit: Royal Fern along River-Brian McAllister