Hi Whatcom Birds,
The solstice has come and gone, summer is upon us, and the days are officially getting shorter. But has anyone told the birds? I was blown away by the dawn chorus this morning at Lake Fazon, and by the bird activity throughout the morning!
Lake Fazon has a special place in my heart, because it was here where I really came to understand the endlessly rich world of birding, and where I developed the craft of birding more systematically. In my dawn chorus writeups, I've usually chosen locations that are relatively accessible to most people, but I'll admit this spot takes a bit more work; access to a kayak in particular makes quite the difference. This morning I was on the lake in my kayak at 4:15, about 10 minutes before civil twilight (a.k.a. first light). Here's what that looked like:
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One challenge with birding from a kayak is that a lake basin can create a unique acoustic environment, with sounds reflecting across the water and making it harder to pinpoint their source. Being close to the water's surface also changes the way sounds reach your ears, making nearby songs more difficult to separate from distant echoes and background noise. The further I strayed from the shoreline into the center of the lake, the fewer birds I could hear all around me, replaced by little more than the hum of morning traffic. So I hugged the shoreline as closely as possible, even though it made triangulating distant songs more difficult.
However, what impressed me most this morning was the length of the dawn chorus! It had already begun as I paddled onto the lake, and continued strong until a few minutes before sunrise - about 45 minutes of the intense, concentrated song that defines the dawn chorus, so different from the casually paced cadence of midmorning birdsong.
I'm noticing that the longer twilight periods of late spring and early summer correlate with longer dawn choruses. This morning's chorus was easily the longest I've experienced this season. Tree Swallows, Swainson's Thrushes, Willow Flycatchers, and American Robins dominated the soundscape. Strong secondary support came in the form of Common Yellowthroats, Purple Finches, and Marsh Wrens. As the chorus progressed, Black-headed Grosbeaks, Bewick's Wrens, and a Red-eyed Vireo joined in. The most exciting bird of the day was a vocal Eastern Kingbird, singing its buzzy, electric medley of high-pitched notes at first light. It was perched at the same spot where a pair nested the previous two years; I have a strong suspicion that this locally hard-to-find species is nesting on Lake Fazon again!
After the sun rose, the lake came even more alive with avian activity! Most prominent were hundreds of Cedar Waxwings hawking bugs from the willows along the lake edge! They were joined by large flocks of Tree Swallows, many of which were fledglings. Red-winged Blackbirds were actively feeding young and defending territory; a Mallard hen led four nearly full grown ducklings around; two young Bald Eagles shrieked for food from a nest on the north shore. As we swing from spring into summer, the frenzy for a mate and the demand for prime territory transitions into the urgency of raising young; Lake Fazon turned out to be just the right place to witness this seasonal progression.
Explore my checklist from today's paddle for notes on some of my sightings, plus a few more photos of this morning's dynamic sunrise!
In Everson,
Stephen Chase