My wife Sandi and I led a Penobscot Valley Audubon birding trip to Sunkhaze Meadows National Wildlife Refuge and Stud Mill Road a few years ago. A vanload of enthusiastic birders joined us.
Worst. Trip. Ever.
The logging roads east of Milford are often very good for winter birds. In fact, we were inspired to lead this trip, because we’d had such good luck the previous year along the same route.
It was cold, breezy and deathly boring. I still remember the red-breasted nuthatch that proved to be our one-and-only bird for miles. In subsequent years, we switched to doing winter trips to Acadia, where it’s less likely the leaders will embarrass themselves.
Apparently, the lesson wore off. We’re planning another close-to-Bangor trip in February. Details are in the Penobscot Valley Audubon newsletter that just hit member mailboxes this week. Still smarting from the misery of that last attempt, this one is branded “Leader’s Choice.” Even we don’t know where we’re going yet.
Perhaps we’ve gotten smarter since then. Over the last decade, I’ve discovered just how much the winter bird life varies from year to year. I make predictions based on the signs I see in nature each autumn.
For instance, I spent a few days in the woods around Moosehead Lake over the Thanksgiving holiday. In some years, finches arrive from their Canadian nesting grounds in November.
This year, the woods were relatively quiet. I heard a few white-winged crossbills fly over, but no big flocks. I heard a few goldfinches, but only one pine siskin and no redpolls.
I also noticed that the evergreens have not produced many cones this year. Thus, I predict a quiet finch winter in the northern forest.
On the other hand, chickadees and nuthatches seem to be staying home. Resident birds that spend all summer foraging for food can sense when it’s going to be a lean winter. A surprising number leave Maine in autumn, if they fear a difficult winter ahead.
Blue jays sometimes migrate, too.
Lately, I’ve been ogling the berry bushes and fruit trees around town. Many look like they’ve already been picked over, although I think the crop was just not very robust this year. Accordingly, I suspect we won’t see as many Bohemian and cedar waxwings this winter. Fruit-loving pine grosbeaks are likely to be few and far between.
On the plus side, Maine has produced a bumper crop of barred owls this year. Unfortunately, some of them are running into bumpers. I’ve heard about a multitude of owl collisions with vehicles this season.
I’m guessing it was a big rodent year, and that plentiful food supply allowed owls to raise more young successfully.
Actually, I’m not guessing about the rodents. I’m battling a horde of mice invading my garage, looking to set up a winter home. I don’t mind their company, but I resent it when they set up nests and store acorns in my toolbox.
Meanwhile, I’ve never had so many squirrels in my yard as I do this year. The oaks produced massive quantities of acorns again this fall. Anything that eats acorns should do well this winter. That includes you, Mr. Turkey.
Roadsides offer a convenient hunting corridor for many raptors. If barred owls are finding them attractive this year, I expect to see more red-tailed hawks along I-95 during the winter, feasting on the same abundance.
Evidence suggests more snowy owls will visit Maine this winter. They’re already being reported across northern states, moving south from their breeding grounds on the Arctic tundra.
Snowy owls have already been reported in Cumberland and Hancock Counties, and there’s a young female holding court offshore on Monhegan Island.
It’s been several years since snowy owls traveled south in big numbers for winter. Their populations rise and fall with the lemmings in the far north.
When there are lots of lemmings, snowy owls raise more babies. When the food supply inevitably wanes in autumn, many owls flood southward in search of food.
Snowy owls are tundra birds, unaccustomed to trees. Frozen marshes, broad mudflats, farm fields and barren mountaintops resemble home, and that’s where they are typically found in Maine.
Unfortunately, airports also resemble home, which sometimes creates conflicts with flight safety.
Those are my predictions: more raptors, fewer finches and waxwings. Feel free to clip out this column and stick it on the refrigerator for later reference. It won’t be long before it’s clear I was uncannily correct or woefully wrong. It’ll be entertaining either way.
