Lazy-ass Birds

Birds perform some of the most incredible, energy-intensive feats of any animal on the planet: Bar-headed geese regularly pass over the top of the Himalayas; Bar-tailed Godwits are known to fly more than 7,000 miles non-stop from Alaska to New Zealand; and Great Snipes make sustained flights of 60 mph for several days at a time.

Even so, birds are sometimes just plain lay-ZEE.

We've been noticing it more often within the past several weeks, with the weather growing increasingly unpleasant, and the birds doing their best to cope. While these strategies may all have sound adaptive value, having been meticulously honed over the course of millions of years of natural selection, their chief virtue is in making birds look hilarious.

Take the Black Skimmer, for instance. Such an odd-looking bird to begin with, skimmers really take it to the next level with their lugubrious habit of lying out flat, resting with their head and bill extended forward over the ground. It's a behavior that's been depicted in Sibley, but that we'd never actually seen until recently. We were beginning to think it must be an uncommon sight, since we've lived along the coast for several years now and see skimmers fairly regularly, but we must always have been in the wrong place at the wrong time; on this particular beach outing, at least half a dozen skimmers were stretched out in this manner.

These Black Skimmers look like they've given up on life

A couple of lazy skimmers

I can certainly sympathize with these skimmers -- it can hardly be fun lugging those massive mandibles around wherever they go, and sometimes you've just got to take a load off. In addition to helping the skimmers rest more comfortably, this method of laying out also reduces the amount of heat they absorb (cf. Gochfeld & Burger, 1994), making it doubly helpful… assuming they don't care what anyone else thinks of them. 

Do they make Prozac for skimmers?

Black Skimmers

Another example of an apparently lazy bird is this young Brown Thrasher we found in Forsyth Park last week. He fluffed out all of his body feathers and held himself in a rather peculiar position for some time, even walking around a bit while holding himself in the same position. Unlike with the skimmers, I suspect that this may have been more about delousing. Some ornithologists have proposed that feather fluffing is a means of removing parasites, either by exposing them to sun (as shown) or by dislodging them with dust (cf. Hauser, 1957). In fact, in revisiting the park yesterday, I did see another thrasher (or the same one) holding himself in a similar position, but with the clear intention of saturating his underparts in earthy goodness. Assuming that these behaviors are related, basking, then, may be one tool in the arsenal against mites. This spaced-out looking Northern Cardinal that Maureen digiscoped seems to support that notion. He certainly seemed more interested in sunlight than dirt, anyway -- maybe with the same idea? Hauser (1957) noted that this type of behavior is especially likely after emerging from long, cloudy periods. 

A particularly fluffy Brown Thrasher

Spaced-out looking Northern Cardinal

But the trophy for laziest-looking bird has to go to this Tufted Titmouse sunning at Skidaway Island State Park. As much as he might look like roadkill, he was up and off just a few seconds after Maureen took this photo. I'm not absolutely positive what this ridiculous creature could have been up to, but in trying to figure it out I came across this fascinating old article titled, "Some Observations on Sun-bathing Birds" (Hauser, 1957). I'm sure the science has improved considerably in the 55 years since it was written, but the hypotheses and illustrations are worth a look. One hypothesis in particular had to do with the preen gland. Specifically, when the preening secretions are exposed to sunlight and then ingested, they can provide a source of Vitamin D. And what do you know! In the picture, you can actually see that the preen gland is fully exposed on the titmouse (the pink, fleshy bit just at the base of the tail). 

A Tufted Titmouse doing... something?

So who's to say a little laziness isn't a good thing? It seems to work for these birds; it's something you should keep in mind next time I go a month without writing a blog post, too. Here's to laziness! 

References

Gochfeld, M. and Burger, J. (1994). Black Skimmer (Rynchops niger), The Birds of North America Online (A. Poole, Ed.). Ithaca: Cornell Lab of Ornithology; Retrieved from the Birds of North America Online: http://bna.birds.cornell.edu/bna/species/108

Hauser, D. (1957). Some observations on sun-bathing in birds. Wilson Bull., 69:78-90.

Equinox Be Damned…

… Because Spring, for us, began this weekend. With the threat of rain looming over us, we were reluctant to make any ambitious plans, so we played it safe, staying reasonably close to home. Forsyth Park seemed a good bet, since it's downtown, and we could always escape into a cafe if the weather turned against us. It's also not an area that we've given much attention to, aside from my lunch break strolls, and this gave us the opportunity to uncover any early migration secrets that lay in store.

This was probably the best decision we could have made.

American Robin

Yellow-bellied Sapsucker

Stepping out of the car, our first-of-season Chimney Swifts flew above us in their erratic paths, wings quivering. I would have been content if that had been the highlight of the day, but this is the start of migration, and migration means warblers.

White-throated Sparrow

Our instinct was to start scanning the trees, but there was surprisingly little action up there. The Yellow-rumps are slowly starting to thin out, after all, even as other species begin to trickle in. No, it wasn't the trees we wanted, but the bushes, right along the paved walkways. Mixed in among the throngs of White-throated Sparrows and Brown Thrashers were all sorts of treats that we dared not expect.

Brown Thrasher

Hooded Warblers and Ovenbirds appeared simultaneously, and soon, seemed to be everywhere. We ended up with about half-a-dozen of each, and the Ovenbirds, in particular with rather rambunctious, chasing each other from bush to bush, and across the paths. The Hooded Warblers, or at least some of them, will stay and breed here, but the Ovenbirds, unfortunately, are just passing through.

Ovenbird

Ovenbird

Our bird-of-the-day was another creature of the undergrowth. We'd expected that when we eventually find our lifer Swainson's Warbler, it would be in a quiet, swampy area, away from the boisterousness of a city park. Instead, it was in a thin strip of shrubbery, amid all sorts of weekend hustle-bustle.

Hooded Warbler

Hooded Warbler

We had seen it long enough to confidently ID it, and were anxiously trying to relocate it, when we were accosted by a professional photographer trying to get rid of us. It seems his idea of a family portrait doesn't include a couple of hipsters skulking in the background. Now, I know that when we go in the field, we're ambassadors for birding, but this man was ridiculous. We awkwardly tried explaining that we were looking for a bird, and that we wouldn't be able to oblige him. Then he changed tactics, and pointed at random birds: "There, is that it?" thinking that maybe we could move along now. My reply, I think, was a derisive laugh.

Many of the birds here are accustomed to people

Catching up with my best friend, an American Robin

We eventually got back to birding, but not before we lost the warbler. It's a pity, but it's just one of the risks you run when birding a shared public space. And with 9 warbler species, Red-eyed Vireo, and plenty of other birds, the morning was already a resounding success. Now, with migration so clearly upon us, I'm finally ready to admit that Spring is here.

Lunchtime in Forsyth

Alas, I'm neither a field biologist nor an ornithologist, having discovered birding during graduate school, traveling down an entirely different path. But while I don't get to spend nearly as much time outdoors as I'd like during the week, I do try and make the best possible use of the one hour a day that I can claim during my lunch breaks. Since a month and a half ago, I've had the good fortune of working in an office building exactly one short block from Forsyth Park, the largest and greenest public space in downtown Savannah, meaning that I can get to where the birds are without wasting any time at all.

The Forsyth Park Fountain... probably the least imaginative name for a fountain ever, but still neat

 
Forsyth is a product of the same movement that led to the establishment of Central Park in NYC, although it's considerably smaller. The south end is undeveloped, but cleared to make way for frolicking and various sorts of athletic merriment. The north end, around where I work, is laid with numerous tree-lined pathways, dripping with Spanish moss, and all leading to a central fountain. The fountain itself apparently draws a certain inspiration from nature, featuring, among other figures, herons feeding among cattails. 

Forsyth Park Fountain

Cast iron herons cavort among the cattails

Upon my daily strolls, the birdlife is often salient, with Robins sometimes laying claim to the fountain as their very own gigantic bathhouse. The incessant stream of foot traffic from tourists and other passersby has inured many of the birds to the presence of people, and I sometimes find White-throated Sparrows digging the leaf right beside where I sit. 

White-throated Sparrow

Various monuments to the state's Confederate past pepper the park, as indeed, the rest of the city... apparently without the least trace of irony or shame

 
I don't take my binoculars with me when I leave for work, so these days have mostly been an exercise in naked birding. However, over the course of a week I brought our digital point-and-shoot camera in order to try and document my lunch break experience. Maureen typically takes 99.9% of the photos on the website, but the proximity and trusting nature of the birds doesn't require the more heavy duty equipment that she uses. In further illustration of that fact, all of the pictures shown here are left uncropped. The short video below serves a montage of some of the sights that I've encountered. 

An American Robin surveys the park

American Robin

Savannah is a peculiar place, populated by peculiar people -- if you doubt it, it's time for you to rewatch Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. There's also a prominent art school downtown, and you can often find students setting up all sorts of strange projects in the park. Now, I've long ago lost any sense of embarrassment when I bird in public, but even if I hadn't, my repeated crouching and videotaping beside dark recesses of the shrubs would still seem perfectly ordinary within the larger context, making even the most self-aware birder would feel at home. 

A Brown Thrasher reflecting philosophically

 

Pondering his own existence

Anyway, this is where I get to spend my lunches, which hopefully means that I won't have to let spring migration pass me while I put in my 40 hours a week. What about you? Does anybody else get the opportunity to get any birding in during the week?

 A Carolina Wren preparing to serenade me

Carolina Wren

Carolina Wren

Brown Thrasher With An Unusually Long Bill

This afternoon at A.D. Barnes, in Miami, we came across a Brown Thrasher with an unusually long bill -- like, several times too long. Unfortunately, none of the pictures convey its full magnitude, because they're either taken at an angle, or the tip is obstructed. If anybody knows any conditions that might be responsible for this, or whether abnormalities of this nature are at all common for thrashers, or mimids, generally, please  let us know in the comments.

UPDATE:
For anyone interested, Bill Pranty has been kind enough to share two articles on the subject of abnormal bill length in Florida's Brown Thrashers:

http://www.fosbirds.org/FFN/PDFs/FFNv04n1p11-13Brown.pdf
http://www.fosbirds.org/FFN/PDFs/FFNv01n2p6-8Taylor.pdf