Birding in Maine is like a farm-to-table restaurant. The offerings are always fresh, and the menu changes with each season.
When neotropical migrants arrive in spring, it’s a buffet of songbirds competing for mates and territories. You can wander just about anywhere, and the birds will announce who they are and where they are. In autumn, it’s an ala carte menu of experiences. Which dish you choose is up to you — and the season’s menu starts now.
Recently, I spent an afternoon on my deck overlooking the lake. In August, common loons congregate, sometimes by the dozens. In early summer, they compete fiercely for territory, but by late summer that aggression gives way to cooperation. Loons diving on a school of fish are more successful when their prey has a harder time getting away.
Likewise, osprey families stick together until migration, often plunging on the same school of fish. And so it was that five loons and six ospreys were right in front of my house, raising a ruckus for several hours. Furthermore, whenever an eagle soared past, every loon on the lake raised the alarm. It was great birding, without ever leaving my Adirondack chair.
Then a foraging flock came along.
Migrating warblers and other small birds often feed together, moving along the tree line. Right in front of me, a flock of 20 warblers fluttered in the branches. I counted at least ten species in the mix. Half were birds I recognized as likely neighborhood residents, but the other half were birds that drop by my yard only in migration.
Within five minutes, I tallied the four toughest “confusing fall warblers” — blackpoll, Cape May, Tennessee and bay-breasted. Blackburnian warblers are also tricky in the fall, and I spotted at least one male and one female in this flock.
Cooperation spooks insects, making them easier to catch. Two red-eyed vireos, one brown creeper, three black-capped chickadees and one each of white-breasted and red-breasted nuthatch joined the fun.
Fifteen minutes later, all was quiet. They had moved on. Sometimes the best fall adventure is simply sitting on the patio with a book, letting the birds come to you.
Or you can order off an entirely different menu — a whale-sized adventure. Last Saturday, Bar Harbor Whale Watch took 130 enthusiastic birders on a 12-hour voyage to Cashes Ledge. This unique ridge of underwater mountains is so far down the Gulf of Maine that you’re closer to Cape Cod than you are to Bar Harbor.
The sea floor is so uneven on Cashes Ledge that ground-fishing is dangerous and prohibited. The tallest peak — Amman Rock — lurks only 27 feet below the surface. Cashes Ledge hosts the largest, densest cold-water kelp forest on the eastern seaboard. Hence, it is rich in aquatic life that draws birds from all over the Atlantic.
Sure enough, we encountered many great shearwaters along the way. These nest in the South Atlantic, then migrate up here in summer. At Cashes Ledge, I saw more Cory’s shearwaters in ten minutes than I’ve previously seen in my entire life. These nest along the coast of southern Europe and northern Africa.
Wilson’s storm-petrels are small, swallow-like seabirds that nest along the coasts of Argentina and Antarctica. They were numerous on this trip, and numbers became staggering once we reached the ledge. Hundreds flew around the boat.
For me, one highlight was the abundance of pomarine jaegers. These predatory birds bully other seabirds and steal their food. They are Arctic nesters, but some come down here in late summer. I would never claim they are easy to find, but on this day, they were.
Frankly, there are so many adventures out there right now that I’m not keeping up. I have yet to go shorebirding this season. Most years I make at least one trip to the Lubec sand bar before Labor Day, and another after.
Hawk-watching season has arrived. Peak migration typically takes place in mid-September, when up to 300 southbound raptors pass the Cadillac summit on a good day. The official hawk watch starts at 9 a.m. each morning. It’s best on a northwest breeze, often after a cold front has just passed through.
Now that reservations are needed to drive up Cadillac Mountain, this adventure requires pre-planning. Watch the forecast, look for a morning in mid-September when good weather and a northwest breeze are predicted, and hope there’s parking space available.
If that sounds like too much effort, remember the simplest option: pour a coffee, sit on the patio and let Maine’s birds come to you.
