This February seems to be even drearier than usual. It may be because it’s one of the mildest in 150 years. Or that the lack of snow and ice—just 3.9% percent of the Great Lakes are frozen—is making this February even more muted.
February’s often known as the peak of the birding doldrums. It seems there’s just a few resident birds around and not much else. Migration and nest-building haven’t started, and those are still weeks away. The cold-weather birds (think Snow Buntings and Lapland Longspurs) are mostly staying farther north this winter.
February’s a good time to plan ahead for spring birding and dream of days with a bit of warmth and humidity in the air. When the air smells sweet, and the birds are plentiful. So I’ve put together this chart of arrival dates for key species.1
Arrival dates of key migrants
🟢 American Woodcock………….second week of March
🟢 Killdeer……………………………second week of March
🟢 Eastern Phoebe………………..fourth week of March
🟢 Tree Swallow……………………first week of April
🟢 Solitary Sandpiper…………….third week of April
🟢 Piping Plover…………………….fourth week of April
🟢 Blue-Gray Gnatcatcher………fourth week of April
🟢 Barn Swallow……………………fourth week of April
🟢 House Wren……………………..first week of May
🟢 Gray Catbird…………………….first week of May
🟢 Baltimore Oriole……………….first week of May
🟢 Warblers…………………………first week of May
🟢 Spotted Sandpiper……………first week of May
🟢 Rose-breasted Grosbeak…..second week of May
🟢 Indigo Bunting…………………second week of May
🟢 Scarlet Tanager……………….second week of May
🟢 Wood Thrush………………….second week of May
🟢 Vireos……………………………second week of May
🟢 Hummingbird………………….second week of May
🟢 Flycatchers……………………..third week of May
There are still many days before the first woodcocks arrive in March. What to do with our time until then? There are still wintering ducks and other waterfowl around, despite the lackluster ice cover. It’s a good time of year to look for raptors, or center in on one-off species (for me it would be the nearest enclave of Eurasian Collared Doves).
What birds would you add to the spring arrivals list? Robins? Blackbirds? What dates seem off? What’s the timing like in your area? Feel free to challenge the assumptions here and leave a comment. I’m curious to know what you think.
1The dates on the chart are derived from a number of sources, as well as the author’s own observations. These are approximations, and the dates may vary depending on weather patterns. Further, the estimates are centered around Chicago, though they may apply well to other metro areas including places like Milwaukee, Detroit, and Cleveland.
British air ways
People have been tracking the arrival dates of birds for a long time. Inspiration for this post came from Thomas Bewick’s A History of British Birds, which was published in 1797 and 1804. It was a forerunner to today’s field guides and featured magnificent woodcuts done by Bewick. His depiction of the now-extinct Great Auk (see below) is one that may be most notable.
Bewick lived in Northumberland, near Newcastle upon Tyne, so he was at a much more northern latitude than us here in the United States. However, it’s interesting how much earlier some of these birds arrive there than here—take the Redstart, which Bewick lists as mid-April. Here, it is more like early May. There are also some insect eaters that stay year-round in England, like the Redbreast that Bewick notes above. The climate is moderated by waters of the North Sea.
As far as early naturalists go, Bewick is one to be admired. He was an early champion of the humane treatment of animals and a pacifist. In his autobiography, Bewick relates how he first began feeling compassion for animals as a youth after he participated in a hunt and briefly attempted to rescue a hare. From thereon he began to approach the natural world more gently:
I have before noticed that the first time I felt compassion for a dumb animal, was upon my having caught a hare in my arms. The next occurrence of the kind happened with a bird. I had no doubt knocked many down with stones before, but they had escaped being taken. This time, however, the little victim dropped from the tree, and I picked it up. It was alive, and looked me piteously in the face; and, as I thought, could it have spoken, it would have asked me why I had taken away its life. I felt greatly hurt at what I had done, and did not quit it all the afternoon. I turned it over and over, admiring its plumage, its feet, its bill, and every part of it. It was a bullfinch. I did not then know it’s name, but I was told it was a “little Matthew Martin.” This was the last bird I killed; but many, indeed, have been killed since on my account [in his presence].
I’ve been fascinated lately by early naturalists who were not named Audubon, and you can anticipate more of these insights in this space moving forward.
This Week in Awful
Michigan man convicted of diverting river by hand, cutting into Piping Plover habitat
News arrived last week that a river diversion in Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore would result in a misdemeanor. The story goes back to the summer of 2022, when a fishing enthusiast decided to take it upon himself to trench through a sandy spit that had plugged the mouth of the idyllic Platte River at Lake Michigan. There was a desire by some boaters and anglers to have easier access to the lake, and he was caught redhanded. As happens around Lake Michigan, sand had accumulated through the years, creating a spit that provided a natural beach and slowed the river. The National Park Service had stopped dredging due to budgetary issues and because the federally endangered Piping Plover found the spit to be to their liking.
Piping Plover numbers in the Great Lakes have climbed through the years—to 80 pairs in 2023—but this just shows what they are up against. Even in a National Park Service property. One fears what is happening in less thoughtful jurisdictions, and where else plovers may not have room to nest without disturbance. Humanity has impeded the success of Piping Plovers for a long, long time. Maybe the Sleeping Bear Dunes coast is one place where nature should be allowed to take its course, even when it impacts human recreation.
I had my first "Spring" robin yesterday morning as part of my Great Backyard Bird Count, taking a leisurely bath in the shallow dish I filled for the occasion. Also had 9 dark-eyed juncos, 5 house finches (3 male, 2 female), and a red-bellied woodpecker who typically frequents my feeders. Kind of a slow weekend, but I'm always happy to see a Robin!
Good to remember that foft-billed birds feed on infects