Monthly Archives: September 2009

Forecasting birds (and rain)

Freckled clouds, radar

We had some weird weather this afternoon. When I got up, it was raining lightly. The sun peeked out for a bit, but then it clouded over and rained again for a while. When the rain had passed, I took Raven outside for a romp outdoors. It was windy and a bit nippy, but otherwise a glorious fall afternoon: blue skies, warm sun. I took a quick tour about the garden, then came back in to return to work. A short bit later I heard the pitter-pat of raindrops on the skylight again. I hadn’t noticed it happen, but I looked outside and sure enough, it was cloudy and overcast again. What the heck was going on?

A trip over to the Environment Canada radar imagery for the radar station nearest us (eastern Ontario) answered the question of what, though it still left me with some whys. The above image is a screenshot of the radar as displayed by the website at mid-afternoon today. I find the online radar imagery to be an incredibly useful tool. It’s usually much more accurate for one to go online and look at the radar yourself, and create your own weather forecast for the afternoon, than it is to rely on the forecast posted online for your local town – or at least, it has been in my experience. Of course, this is only really useful for about half a day’s forecast at most. I primarily use it if I want to know if it’s going to rain while I’m out for my hike this afternoon, or if there’s going to be enough of a gap in the precipitation for me to take care of some chore outside. Still, it’s the sort of info you can’t get by checking the Weather Network.

On the radar, precipitation shows up as blocky patches of blue and green. Heavy rain appears as yellow, and really heavy rain – those torrential downpours usually only seen during thunderstorms – is red. The image is really just a visual depiction of the density of reflective particles/objects in the air. More raindrops = denser = more reflection = brighter colour. So on the radar image above you can see the patches of rain as blue and green freckles scattered across the screen. They appear in a large circle because the radar is at ground level and is aimed at an angle toward the sky, so the trajectory of the beam means that past a certain distance the beam is higher than the clouds and can’t detect them anymore. Think of it like a stick protruding out of the mud in a pond at an angle – after a certain length the length of the stick inevitably passes out of the water, and it will only get wet (“sample” the water, akin to the radar laser “sampling” the atmosphere) until it exits the water, no matter how long the stick is. (I actually think they cover a “cone” of the sky, but I’m not sure if this is done by changing the angle of the laser or by using multiple lasers.)

Freckled clouds, satellite image

Curious as to what this pattern of rain looked like as clouds, I checked the corresponding Environment Canada satellite image for our area. It looked, unsurprisingly, exactly like the radar did, only as clouds. I tried to do some poking around online about cloud formations and what would cause the clouds to pattern like this, but couldn’t find anything helpful. I did learn that when you see this pattern of clouds on a smaller scale, as in standing on the ground and seeing a freckled sky above, that sort of cloud formation is altocumulus, which apparently usually precede a cold front, and on a warm, humid summer morning can mean to expect a thunderstorm later in the afternoon.

Rain clouds

This is what rain usually looks like on the radar. This screenshot was taken from a US radar page, from the National Center for Atomospheric Research, rather than the Environment Canada one, because EC doesn’t log past radar images, at least not accessible by the public, while the US page allows you to look at radar images from up to five days ago. This is the reflectivity radar image from a station south of us, in New York. It still covers our part of Ontario fairly well. This image was from Monday afternoon, when we had a big rainshower pass through. You can see how at the edges of the mass of precipitation the colour is blue, signifying light rain, and the further toward the center of the mass you get, the brighter the colour, till it’s a very heavy yellow rain in the middle.

Both the NCAR and the EC radar pages allow you to run loops of several images in a row – you can play back an hour’s worth of images (or more, if you choose) to see how fast the precipitation is moving, and in what direction. This is what I do to try to determine if I have enough time before the rain arrives to accomplish something. If you know the length of your loop, and how far the precipitation traveled during that time, you can figure out when to likely expect it to arrive. (Make a note that with the NCAR images their timestamp, and what you choose from the dropdown when creating a loop, is in UTC, aka Greenwich Mean Time).

Birds on the radar

Forecasting your own weather may not be the coolest thing about radar websites, though. Forecasting bird migration – that’s right, I said birds – is most likely the coolest thing you can do with radar. At night, starting at dusk and continuing till nearly dawn, during spring and fall the skies fill up with millions upon millions of birds as they head south (or north). Each one of those birds reflects the radar. Normally, a single bird wouldn’t be enough to register on these images, but when you start getting them in the densities observed during migration, they become visible.

The above image is a screenshot of the Indiana radar, taken just before midnight tonight (Wednesday). This is what birds look like on the radar. You’ll notice three things. First, the shape of the mass is nearly perfectly circular. Unless the radar is situated in a mountainous region where the radar’s sightlines are broken, birds will always show up as a circle because they’re everywhere in the sky, so the radar’s entire sweep will detect birds.

Second, the edges of the colour start with brown, not blue. Blue is the middle colour. The very brightest is green, at the centre. This is because of the altitude that birds fly at, relative to where along the stick-in-the-water. Most birds fly closer to the mud than the water’s surface, so even though the birds are evenly distributed horizontally along the pond, the stick is only going to register high densities where the stick actually passes through high densities. The far end of the stick, where it exits the water, is much too high above the high densities at the pond bottom to be able to register them. Even at their most abundant, birds also fly at lower densities than rain does, so their fringes start with the lower-density brown and never get any brighter than green.

Third, take a look at the resolution of the two images, the birds and the rain. Note how fine the “particles” look in the bird image, versus how blocky the rain looks. I think they’re actually displayed at the same resolution, but the birds look more fine-grained because they’re an even density throughout, whereas rain clouds by their nature show up on the radar in irregular patches.

Birds, flying south

Okay, there’s also a fourth thing to note. This only works at the NCAR site, not at the EC site. If you select the velocity option instead of the reflectivity, it will show you what direction the detected mass is moving. This is illustrated by colour. The radar station is a dot in the very centre of the image. I’m not sure what the unit is on the scale at the right of the image (knots, probably), but anything above 0 is moving away from the station, and anything below 0 is moving toward the station. So grays and blues are moving toward, and yellows and reds are moving away. Birds usually register lower numbers – here, it’s about 10 knots – while storms are often faster.

Because the birds are all flying in approximately the same direction, you get a very strong directional movement on the velocity screen, as represented by a nice sharp horizontal line across the middle. In this image all the blues and grays are above the station and the yellows and reds below it – everything is moving south. In the case of rainstorms, the movement is often west to east, or southwest to northeast, or etc. Very rarely is it north to south or south to north, as it is with birds.

Birds! and rain

On the NCAR site you can also choose to display the regional reflectivity, or multiple radar stations all shown together in a composite image (EC also has something similar). Here’s the regional radar for the midwest, from just before midnight tonight (Wednesday). It shows a band of rain in the southwest, associated with a cold front I assume, which appears, by the way it’s curved, to be moving east-northeast. Over in Michigan, Indiana and western Ohio, bird migration is booming. Further west, toward the incoming cold front, the birds aren’t moving in large numbers, perhaps put off by the weather. Right immediately around the band of rain there’s only a speckling at the radar stations, and this may or may not even be birds – even radar images from the middle of the afternoon on clear, sunny days will show a bit of speckling, which may be birds, insects, dust or pollution, or other things in the air that are reflecting the radar back.

Migration “fallouts” occur when there is strong migration overnight, and precipitation rolls in halfway through the night. If the rain comes in too early, birds won’t take off at all, they’ll just stick it out another day, but if it doesn’t come in till after a few hours, birds will already be on the wing. They’ll look for a place to put down to avoid flying through the nasty weather. If you’re watching your radar, and you see rain coming in to interrupt a heavy bird migration, there’s probably going to be a fallout as a result. So call in to the office, tell them you came down with food poisoning overnight and book the day off work. You just know the birding is going to be good that morning!

A word of advice to folks in Michigan, Indiana and Ohio – if you haven’t already booked Thursday off work, try to go in early or head out at lunch, because I suspect your local birding spot may be busy… too bad that rain won’t make it through in time to down stuff mid-flight.

Sun spike

And finally, I can’t embed this, so you’ll just have to follow the link, but it’s very cool to see so I highly recommend that you do. :) This link should take you to tonight’s (Wednesday’s) radar loop for Indiana. It’s a three-hour loop starting just before sunset and going to about 10 pm. The first couple of images are just radar noise, but then you should see one with a big spike coming off it to the west (shown above). The spike is called a sun spike, caused as the sun sets and hits the radar at the same angle as the radar is projected (you’ll see one in the east as the sun comes up in the morning, too). Almost immediately after the sun spike, the radar image begins to bloom and grow as birds take to the air.

Isn’t that cool?

Tuesday Miscellany

Sunset

It’s been a busy week! I’ve been trying to pull together the October issue of the Ontario Field Ornithologists’ newsletter, and have been working on a fair bit of moth-related stuff for the book. This has not only kept me from posting much this week, but also kept me from getting outside very much, so I don’t have many photos for the miscellany post this week. I have a few backlogged subjects I hope to get to soon, but in the meantime, here are the handful of “leftover” photos I had.

With the cooler weather settling in as we pass the fall equinox, we’re starting to see mist rising over the fields in the morning, and settling in at night. This photo was taken on one such cool evening, as the sun was setting and the dew was falling. It’s a phenomenon I really only see in meadows and over water; I don’t know whether that’s just because large open areas are better for making it visible, or if the mist is caused by it being a large open area. The little “island” in the mist here is a small hummock that was built by the previous owners many years ago. I don’t know what’s underneath the grass or why they built it.

PinkUnderwing

After a couple of months of distraction before, during, and following our move, I’ve finally got back into mothing regularly – naturally, now that the weather is turning cool. This week will be too cold to bother, but last week had a few decent nights. The large flashy moths at this time of year are the underwings, members of the genus Catocala. Most species in this genus have rather drab, wood-grained forewings, and brightly coloured hindwings that give the group their name. The hindwings are usually pink or orange, but sometimes a yellowy colour, or solid black. Many can be tricky to tell apart from each other. This one is a Pink Underwing, one of a few species with pink underwings. Because they’re so large and flashy compared to many moths out at this time of year they’re one of the groups that has been relatively well-documented, along with silk moths and sphinx moths.

GreenDarner

Although most of the bugs I get to my trap are moths, I do get some other critters. Wasps, beetles, midges, true bugs and daddy-long-legs are regulars. What I don’t see very often – or at all, really – are dragonflies. I nearly stepped on this Green Darner the other morning. Dragonflies are day-fliers, so it would be unusual for one to be out at night to be attracted to the light. I can only think either that this one was roosting in the garden near the light, or it rose before I did in the morning and came to the light before I came out to turn it off (I’m not up at the crack of dawn, so this is in theory possible, though I don’t know if dragonflies would actually do this). This is a female or immature Green Darner, as told by the colour of the abdomen – adult males have blue “tails”, while those of females and immatures are red.

Katydid

I found this near the trap one morning, too, though I think it was just coincidental that it was nearby. It’s a katydid, perhaps an Oblong-winged Katydid (Amblycorypha oblongifolia) or a related species. The name comes from members of the genus Pterophylla, the True Katydids, whose call sounds a little like “katy-did, katy-didn’t”; katydids of other genera don’t sound like that. The Amblycorypha includes 14 species in North America. Most are the typical green, but occasionally one will turn up that’s a rather startling bubble-gum pink, like this one photographed by Tom of Ohio Nature. Female katydids have long, thick, curved appendages protruding from the rear of their abdomen (their ovipositors), while males do not; I think this individual is a male.

Clearcut

I saw this scene along a sideroad near my parents’ new home. It seems to be a common land-clearing practice out in eastern Ontario, but was something I hadn’t encountered in the Greater Toronto Area when I lived there. I don’t know if this was because of the higher population density in the GTA, or just that land wasn’t used for agriculture as heavily as it is in the east. To clear the land for crops farmers will bulldoze the trees and stack all of the leftover brush in huge mounds that they then burn (for scale, that’s corn growing behind the mounds). On the weekend, on the way back from the pink ribbon ride, I passed a couple such controlled burns. I suspect that the large trunks are sold, either for firewood or lumber, and it’s the remaining brush that’s burned, but it seems like a bit of a waste to me. Couldn’t they sell it to someone for mulch or woodchips? Is it really necessary to burn it and release all that carbon into the air?

RoadSign

Also on the drive home on the weekend I spotted this version of the “Slow, children playing” sign one often sees around family neighbourhoods. I wonder what exactly they mean by that?

Macaw Clay Lick by devittj on Flickr

One of the stops on the Peru tour will be a viewing of the local clay lick. This photo of Red-and-green Macaws was taken at the clay lick at Manu. Clay licks are exposed earthen banks that are rich in minerals. Generally speaking, such clay licks are only visited by parrots. It is presumed that the minerals in the clay neutralize any toxins contained in the fruit and seeds that the birds consume. Macaws of various species seem to be the most common visitors to clay licks, but certainly not the only ones. Different species of amazon parrots, parakeets and parrotlets all partake of the rich earth as well. Some clay licks can attract hundreds or even thousands of parrots from the surrounding rainforest. Just imagine the spectacle! If you’re having trouble imagining, check out this video of the Tambopata clay lick also in Peru:

I’m going to Peru with Kolibri Expeditions as part of their blogger promotional series. Want to come? I’d love to have you along! My departure leaves November 13, 2010 and returns the 21st, well before the US Thanksgiving. You can get more information about the trip, including itinerary and, of course, cost, at this page. Don’t forget that if you’re also a blogger you get $100 off. In addition to having a great time, meeting some great bloggers, and seeing some fabulous birds, you’ll also be supporting the local communities as they work toward developing a sustainable ecotourism industry for their area. It’s a win-win!

The “artificial” natural forest

Larose Forest, Ottawa area

This morning I drove out Ottawa way to join my sister and mother who were doing a horseback ride in support of breast cancer research. The ride was organized by a local group that helps maintain the trail system in one of the largest tracts of forest near Ottawa, and in fact southern Ontario south of the Shield. At 26,000+ acres, the Larose Forest stretches for miles. Within its boundaries are about 160 km (100 miles) of trails and roads. The pink ribbon ride did a loop through a portion of these trails. I came along partially for logistical support and camera-handling, and partially to visit the forest. While they were off on their ride, I hiked through a small portion of the trails. (You’ll be able to see more photos from the ride itself at my mom’s blog.)

Larose Forest, Ottawa area

The forest has an interesting history. Most of it originally started out as a plantation forest, and its history as such can still be seen among the tall, straight pines that grow more or less in lines. Enough time has passed that it’s just starting to lose its plantation feel – a few pines have come down out of the rows, and the understory has been growing up, disguising the straight lines.

Larose Forest, Ottawa area

The plantation was the result of the dedication of Ferdinand Larose, who was hired by the Ontario Department of Agriculture to address the barren sand plains that had been left over as a result of aggressive logging in the latter half of the 1800s. Virtually all of the virgin trees were eventually removed, leaving nothing but an empty desert. Agricultural practices took over, but the denuded landscape was suffering from heavy erosion. The Larose Forest began as an initiative to try to curb some of this erosion. It is now identified as the second-largest plantation forest in southern Ontario (I’m not sure what is the first, and the websites didn’t say), and the largest tract of forest in eastern Ontario.

Larose Forest, Ottawa area

The land was bought by the county from private landowners and manually replanted. Red Pine was the first species to be planted, followed by White Pine and White Spruce, and later early-successional deciduous species such as birch or poplar. At the peak of replanting efforts, in the 1940s and 1950s, some one million trees a year were being planted. The last significant planting took place in the 1970s; annual seedling numbers had been reduced to about 200,000 by that point.

Larose Forest, Ottawa area

From the outset the forest was intended to be a harvested resource, but also a multi-use public land. Logging still takes place at low, sustainable rates, and until recently most removal of felled timber was done by horses. Revenue obtained through the logging is returned to the forest for maintenance of infrastructure such as roads and signage. The trail system is used by hikers and mountain bikers, but also horseback riders and dog sledders. ATV riders have their own designated trails. Unfortunately, hunting also takes place in the forest – I say “unfortunately” not out of concern for the animals, though it is unfortunate for those that get taken, but rather for non-hunters who are at risk during these periods (even though hunters are supposed to avoid the hiking trails). I try to avoid anywhere there might be hunters during the open season.

Larose Forest, Ottawa area

Although the oldest parts are only 80 years old, the forest already contains a remarkable diversity of creatures. Much of their species lists come from a BioBlitz undertaken in 2007. Other lists are maintained and added to annually. A total of 141 species of birds have been tallied from the forest, including such rare or threatened species as Evening Grosbeak, Northern Goshawk, and Whip-poor-will. Other groups, including herpetiles, mammals, butterflies, odonates, vascular plants, and others, have also been documented. They’ve even got a moth list, which stands at 211 species, probably representing only a handful of nights of effort, given that any mothing parties would by necessity need to be brought in and run off of a generator.

Larose Forest, Ottawa area

There appears to be some development pressure on the forest, as there always seems to be with large tracts of “unused” land. Everybody seems to have an idea on the best way to utilize the space, and a lot of these people’s plans don’t include nature appreciation as part of it. So far, however, development remains as pressure and not as present activities – and hopefully it stays that way.

Larose Forest, Ottawa area

Tay Meadows Tidbit – Cooper’s Hawk

Cooper's Hawk

You know those moments where you just happen to be prepared at the right place, at the right time? That happened to me the other day. I had taken my camera out into the yard to try to capture some photos of the Chipping Sparrows that have been hanging around in the garden, so I had the long lens on it. I haven’t put the long lens on the camera in weeks and weeks. After the chippers had flown I walked with Raven down to the vegetable garden on my regular garden round, to see how the produce is doing. By this point in the season there’s not all that much to see, since other than the tomatoes we didn’t have any late-maturing veggies planted. Still, I strolled down anyway. Halfway down the path, I glanced out over the open field to the north – the area around the house is enclosed by trees so sightlines are short – and a Cooper’s Hawk was cruising south along the field, low, perhaps only 20 feet (6 meters) high. And I was there, with my camera turned on, with my long lens attached, with the lens focused for 20-feet-away birds, and I saw it coming, so I was able to lift the camera up and rapidly shoot off four frames as the bird passed nearly directly overhead. And two of them actually turned out. Wow. Talk about serendipity.

This is the first Cooper’s Hawk I’ve seen at the new place. It’s not a species I typically see a lot of to begin with. They’re not uncommon, they’re just not abundant. They also tend to be more quiet and secretive than many other raptors that we’re familiar with, such as the Red-tailed Hawk. While the Red-tail is primarily a meadow-hunter, the Cooper’s generally sticks to forests, making them difficult to sneak up on, and darn near impossible to spot at a distance. They are incredibly agile flyers, able to squeeze through narrow spaces in dense forests by flapping in the open bits and then pulling their wings in tight to their body to shoot through small gaps like a projectile, or twisting to fly sideways like an airplane doing a stunt. They use their long tails as efficient rudders in these high-speed maneuvers. Despite its traditional preference for dense woodland, the Cooper’s has adapted well to city living, and can now be found in many urban centres, such as Toronto, in higher densities than it is in its natural habitat, likely due to the great availability of avian prey. It still prefers a patch of trees or small woodlot in which to build its nest, however.

Cooper's Hawk

It’s almost identical in appearance to the related but smaller Sharp-shinned Hawk. The males are smaller than the females in both species; small male Cooper’s can overlap in size with large female Sharp-shins, so size in and of itself isn’t always a reliable indicator, especially without any sort of reference point. There are two things that are useful for telling the two apart, though. If you’re lucky enough to see it soaring, like this individual was, the way it holds its wings is diagnostic – the leading edge (the front edge) of the wings will line up in a straight line in Cooper’s, while Sharp-shins tend to hold them slightly forward so they form a gentle curve around the head. If the bird is sitting and you can see the face (or even if you get a really good look in flight, like this), Cooper’s have a heavy bill relative to the size of the head, and heavy brows, giving them a fierce look. Sharp-shins, by comparison, have a small bill and reduced brows and look much daintier.

This individual is a hatch-year, that is, born this summer. It’s probably no more than three months old. You can tell its age by its brown plumage and streaky breast, as well as the yellow iris. In adults, the back is grayish and the breast striped with rusty orange. The iris of the adult is likewise a rusty orange.

Tuesday Miscellany

milkweed bug

I have a suspicion that my Monday Miscellanys may be indefinitely bumped to Tuesday for the winter, as Mondays are my tv-watching night, with the season starting yesterday. I don’t watch much tv, following just a couple of shows religiously every week rather than plopping down on the couch in the evening, and Monday happens to be the big tv night. I guess we’ll see.

First up this week, a Small Milkweed Bug (Lygaeus kalmii) on a Milkweed pod. Milkweed bugs are found across much of North America generally in association with milkweed, as the name implies. Though they take nectar from flowers, they’re primarily known for piercing milkweed seeds to “drink” the seed contents. For the same reason that Monarch caterpillars and butterflies are unpalatable to predators, so are Milkweed Bugs. They ingest the chemicals in the milkweed plant and deposit them in their body tissue. The markings on their back, the bright orange-and-black cross pattern, are presumed to be aposematic coloration – warning to predators that the bug tastes bad or is poisonous.

Many organisms employ this sort of coloration, which helps to enforce the idea to predators that anything brightly coloured should be avoided. However, it’s a learned avoidance – they have to taste a few before they’ll get the idea. Back in university, in my insect behaviour class, we did an experiment where we presented live assassin bugs with live milkweed bugs that were reared on milkweed seeds (and therefore tasted bad) or on sunflower seeds (which they also grow successfully on but don’t obtain the distasteful chemicals), and manipulated the coloration of the milkweed bugs using non-toxic marker. It was interesting to see how the assassin bugs learned to avoid the pattern that tasted bad, whether it was the natural pattern or not, and how they would adapt and “re-learn” when the patterns were changed.

Giant Water Bug

I put out my moth lights and trap last night, our first warm night in over a week. There was a great diversity of moths, including a few species I hadn’t seen before (the joys of moving to a new place). There were also these guys, Giant Water Bugs, Lethocerus americanus. They were abundant, with at least half a dozen appearing at my sheet. I was quite surprised to discover them at the light, for two reasons. The first is that prior to this I’d only ever encountered them in the spring (for instance, this individual I got at my parents’ old house, or these ones at the last place). The second is that at both previous locations my sheet had been set up within sight of water. Last night happened to be autumn (just to clarify in case anyone had been asleep the last few months and wasn’t sure), and I’m not aware of a pond anywhere near the house, so I don’t know where they’d be coming from. Now that said, this evening I was hearing some Spring Peepers peeping from the forest not far from the house. The forest is the neighbour’s property, so I’ve never been in there. It’s entirely possible there’s a vernal pool just a short distance in, and without the frogs peeping, or the water bugs showing up at my light, I would never have known.

jumping spider

This unidentified jumping spider had quite a wild ride yesterday. I’m not sure whether it climbed on to my car here at home or at the grocery store, but I only noticed it as I was zipping down the highway from town at 100 km/h (60 mph). The poor spider was clinging desperately to the windshield, flattened and with legs spread. I have no idea what it was gripping, but I guess glass, like many things, is rougher at a microscopic level than it appears to our macro-scale senses. It rode for nearly 10 minutes in 100 km/h winds before I finally reached home. I expected it to lose its grip and go flying off at any point, but it never did. When I got home, it finally let go and started scurrying across the car, perhaps looking for a less exposed place to hide. It hung out on the car long enough for me to get my camera, though.

argiope sp

Last week I mentioned the Black-and-yellow Argiope that I had been seeing a lot of out in the meadows. There seems to have been a quick shift in the Argiope population, because I haven’t seen one of those in a few days. Now all I’m seeing are the above, Banded Argiope, Argiope trifasciata. They have similar web-building habits, though I find them slightly lower in the grass and not as often across trails. They also don’t seem to make the same bold white zig-zag down the middle. The most noticeable difference between the species, though, is that Banded Argiopes are incredibly camera shy. I have been trying for several days to get a good photo of one on a web. Never did. As soon as you approach the web, they let go and drop down into the grass. This is a survival tactic for avoiding being carried off on some large animal that might blunder through the web (or perhaps defensive against being plucked off the web by a bird or something), but it makes it really difficult to get a photo. I finally happened across this very obliging individual just sitting on some vegetation.

Northern Walkingstick

Northern Walkingstick

Earlier in the week I spotted the first Northern Walkingstick, hanging out in my garden on some Amaranth, and then a few days later, saw another – or the same? – individual on one of the screened windows. With the one that I found at our porch light back in August, I have been surprised at how many I’ve turned up this year, given how many I’d seen in the last few years.

Blue-headed Vireo

Fall migrants continue to trickle through. One of these mornings I’m going to have to rouse myself just after dawn and put on my rubber boots and rainpants and go back through the dewy meadow to try to catch the birds when they’re active… one of these mornings. I’m usually up just early enough to catch the tail end of it before things go quiet for the day. This bird was one of the tail-enders this morning, a young-of-the-year Blue-headed Vireo that was testing out its pipes for next spring. We’re at the southern-ish edge of their breeding range here in Ontario; the species can be found, patchily, right down to Lakes Erie and Ontario, but the concentrations get very sparse that far south. Their highest densities are further north, in some areas of Algonquin Park and northern Ontario. It’s hard to say if we’d have any Blue-headeds in the large tract of land down the road, but this bird was most likely from much further north, either way. Blue-headed Vireos are one of the minority of species with a large, statistically significant population increase in the province over the last 20 years.

Andean Cock-of-the-Rock by dermoidhome on Flickr

This week’s Peru highlight is my number two most-wanted for the trip. The Andean Cock-of-the-Rock is a cool bird with its bright orange plumage and half-circle forehead crest. I’m not sure if it’s official or not, but it’s often considered the national bird of Peru. The males all congregate together in a “lek” where they compete to gain the attention and affection of females, usually in the morning and evening hours. They’re typically more of a higher-elevation bird, found often along stream valleys in cloud forests. I don’t know if I’ll actually get a chance to see these guys; the first day of the itinerary stops at Cock-of-the-Rock Lodge for lunch, where there’s an active lek not far away, but it may not be ideal circumstances to see the birds, and I don’t know that they’ll be encountered elsewhere on the trip. But I can hope. :)

I’m going to Peru with Kolibri Expeditions as part of their blogger promotional series. Want to come? I’d love to have you along! My departure leaves November 13, 2010 and returns the 21st, well before the US Thanksgiving. You can get more information about the trip, including itinerary and, of course, cost, at this page. Don’t forget that if you’re also a blogger you get $100 off. In addition to having a great time, meeting some great bloggers, and seeing some fabulous birds, you’ll also be supporting the local communities as they work toward developing a sustainable ecotourism industry for their area. It’s a win-win!