Nighthawks

We could call it a "kettle," if they were hawks--a pretty good description of a flock where the individuals seems to boil from the top to the bottom over and over again. In that sense, I watched a kettle of Common Nighthawks over the dog park on September 20. I estimated at least 60 in the flock, but it could easily have been twice that. The kettle gradually moved west, the birds whirling and flashing like flakes in a snow globe. The birds never dropped as low as the tree tops, while below, a flock of migrating Green Darner dragonflies roiled in their own version of a kettle, 6 to 15 feet above ground. The Crossley ID Guide (Richard Crossley, 2011) mentions that they are often found along wooded streams, and the dog park is within sight of the Meramec River.

Nighthawks are not even close to being hawks, but they hunt on the wing, that is, they "hawk" for insects, and are most active in twilight. My dad used to call them "bullbats." If you use the word "bull" to mean "large or strong," they certainly would be large, strong bats, if they were bats. He told me they liked to hang around the lights at the ballpark and sometimes along the street. I used to see them in those places too as a kid, but I see fewer and fewer of them now flying erratically over towns. The Sibley Guide to Bird Life and Behavior, by David Sibley (2001), notes that Common Nighthawk populations have declined throughout their breeding range (p. 352). The breeding range covers most of the Canada and the US (excluding south and central California, Alaska, and areas near or north of the arctic circle), and the western portion of Mexico (excluding Baja California). Factors contributing to the decline include the use of insecticides, and the loss of open areas that they need for hunting and mating displays (Sibley).

Nighthawks don't build nests, laying their eggs on the ground in open, rocky areas. They have adapted to using flat roofs covered with gravel, but as these become less common and roofs insulated with smooth PVC coatings become the norm, nighthawks have lost an important resource. In her book 101 Ways to Help Birds, Laura Erickson (2006) discusses ways to accommodate nighthawk nesting sites (p. 169) by providing pads with gravel in shaded areas of flat roofs.

Besides their beautiful, haphazard flight, male nighthawks have an intriguing display. I heard it "in the wild" only once. I was sitting on the front stoop of a shop, enjoying a traditional St. Louis treat, a "concrete," when I heard it. Nighthawks had been flying overheard, calling with nasal, off-key notes, "beans...beans..." when I heard a sound that shouldn't have come from a bird. Greg Budney, audio curator of the Macaulay Library at Cornell, describes it as similar to "a truck roaring by, that suddenly disappears." Somewhere along the city street, a male nighthawk dove between the buidlings, creating that roar as wind passed through the long flight feathers. Perhaps he planned his display to take advantage of the echoes in the urban "canyon."

At the end of the recording below, you hear this mechanical sound. If you have 2 minutes, check out the video from Cornell's Lab of Ornithology which I embedded below it. Thanks to Bill Bouton for his great photo of a Common Nighthawk above, taken in northern California, and to Don Jones who recorded the species in New Jersey, and the Cornell Lab, all of whom licensed their work with Creative Commons.



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Last Kite of the Season

Mississippi Kite's keystone-shaped tail shows in this silhouette composite photo by George Thomas

I may have seen my last Mississippi Kite of the year yesterday. My puppy Chunk and I visited Emmenegger Nature Park, climbing the trail along the bluffs above the Meramec River and paused at one of the glades. Chunk investigated the scents along and under the limestone rocks. I scanned the wide valley below with my binoculars. The landscape is urban, with remnants of oak-hickory woods on the hills. Floating over the former site of the Chrysler plant, a beautiful male Mississippi Kite sailed on the warm, still air. The open glade afforded me a rare view of the kite from above. Contrasting with the dark grey body, I could see the white head and secondaries—the flight feathers close to the body along the trailing edge of the wing. The creative image above is by George Thomas, and the beautiful one below is by MRHSfan. Thanks for licensing your photos with Creative Commons, George and MRHSfan!

adult male Mississippi Kite, photo by MRHSfan

I see Mississippi Kites almost daily in my area, starting in early May. They can be hard to spot early in the season. They tend to be silent and avoid being conspicuous as soon as they begin nesting. A friend who has a nest nearby said she often sees them flying low—under the radar, so to speak—as they approach the nest.

By August, the young are in flight and I occasionally hear them call. It's a strange sound—imagine a flycatcher impersonating a Broad-winged Hawk's two-note whistle. Click the play button to hear the recording below, also Creative Commons. Kites show up predictably at favorite perches around the neighborhood; always on dead snags atop mature trees. About 3 weeks ago I saw a group of 6 kites, including at least 2 juveniles, in a half-dead oak. Not far away, I could hear a 7th bird calling. Sometimes 2 or 3 will circle overhead. Are these local birds or the first migrants? I wish I knew.

When I first started birding seriously, in the early 90s, I saw my life Mississippi Kites in Webster Groves. Birders at that time said Webster was about as far north as they were found in summer, but now they breed up into Iowa.

They are predominantly insect eaters, so they must head south in fall. Conventional wisdom says that all the kites will be gone from Missouri by the end of the first week of September, but curiously, the first are record of Mississippi Kite was in autumn, on September 22, 1956 (Birds of the St. Louis Area; Where and When to Find Them, Webster Groves Nature Study Society, 1995). They migrate through Texas, along the east coast of Mexico, through Central and northwestern South America. Their non-breeding range is Bolivia, western Brazil, Paraguay, and northern Argentina. See this range map on the Cornell U website. Check out this spectacular video of a flock of kites migrating through Soberanía National Park in Panama, taken by Dave Jackson in April, 2007.

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Texas bobcat, photo by Matthew High

And the winner is…
Patricia Lichen's cat! Patricia commented on my previous post about sounds in the night that she wasn't sure what made the strange call

but her cat seemed to!

Her cat was justifiably upset because the call we heard before dawn in the woods of Bentsen State Park was a bobcat (Lynx rufus texensis). Reportedly, bobcats are fairly common in this part of southeastern Texas, near the Rio Grande. According to Wild Mammals of Missouri, Schwartz and Schwartz, 2001, March is the peak of the breeding season in Missouri. This was March 16 in Texas, so it's possible that the Pauraque wasn't the only amorous singer on the prowl.

Bobcats have the widest range of all the wild cats of the Americas; from southern Canada—where they may compete with the larger Canada lynx (Lynx canadensis), down to central Mexico. That bobbed tail usually helps distinguish a bobcat from a feral domestic cat, but a bobcat is also about twice the size of a pet cat: 17-23 inches tall and between 11 and 30 pounds. According to Wikipedia's article, it is absent from most of Missouri, but Wild Mammals of Missouri, other sources and experience disagrees. I saw my first bobcat in Jefferson County, Missouri, crossing a country road at night. Friends in Dent Country tell me they see them on occasion. We didn't get to see this one, but I'm glad we heard him.

Thanks to Matthew High for his great photo of a bobcat seen in west Texas in September.

The Macaulay Library of Animal Sounds

Sapsucker Woods, Cornell University          photo by eflon

We were just settling in for the night. We had already tested the hammocks to see how far you could swing someone before she'd land with a thump. Our scout leaders were tucked into a cabin, farther down the hill. We were on our own. Suddenly, we heard the most hair-raising sounds! We had no idea what creature it was, but there would be no sleep that night.

I've wondered about those shrieks for a few short decades, and I think now I can identify the shrieker. After searching the Macaulay Library of Animal Sounds from Cornell University, I can say that we probably were hearing two wrangling raccoons, although there was more screaming than you hear in this recording. The Macaulay Library is, "The world's largest natural sound and video archive of animal behavior."

There are other sounds on my Website Wednesday featured site that are not conducive to sleep, like this Western Diamondback Rattlesnake, recorded in--of all places--Sapsucker Woods, Ithaca, New York. Another animal sound that scared the living daylights out of me was the snort of a white-tailed deer. Call me a wimpy kid if you must, but that snort can be spine-chilling!

You can select broad categories like arthropods, or fish, or search by common or scientific name. Notes are available giving details of the equipment used and sometimes the recordist or videographer. One recording I found is an 87 minute interview about amphibians held in Buenos Aires Wildlife Refuge, a really fascinating place in southern Arizona. Frogs caterwaul in the background.

There's lots of video too, including this one of a beautiful mountain lion. The video was shot by Tim Barksdale, former St. Louisan and Webster Groves Nature Study Society member. Video and audio from this site is copyrighted, so I can't post it, but hopefully you'll use these links and enjoy them.

I was able to embed the mountain lion audio from the Missouri Dept. Conservation's article about the confirmed cougar sighting in Chesterfield (St. Louis County, MO), that I wrote about a few days ago. Click the play button below. If we had heard anything like this, we would never have camped again!


Courtesy of Missouri Dept. of Conservation.