Believe it or not, the first day of what passes for spring is just ten days out. But the birds don’t wait for astronomical spring to get moving – many of our first signs of spring have been arriving for weeks, while still others just showed up in the last few days. Are these early birds of late winter cockeyed optimists or just gluttons for punishment? And what do they sound like if you want to listen for them? I’m glad you asked – let’s find out!
The early birds of February and March tend to be short distant migrants, or at least species with populations that winter fairly close. Case in point, the undertaker of the group, the Turkey Vulture. While western populations go as far as Columbia for the winter, our Turkey Vultures may only go to the Carolinas, or increasingly may stay more locally in winter, like Rhode Island or even the Upper Cape. They almost never winter on the Outer part of the Cape, so when I saw my first one in Orleans back on a warmish January 29, I took it as a hopeful sign of spring. And what do they sound like? Let’s have a listen. Isn’t that beautiful? Apparently they don’t even have proper vocal organs like other birds. I’ve never actually heard one, so don’t worry, you’re pretty safe from having to ever hear that horror movie sound effect of a bird song.
Would that be true of Common Grackles, the first of which typically arrive in late February – my first was on the 24th. Boisterous and gregarious, they quickly make themselves known with their squeaky hinge calls. Some males have already started making nests in Falmouth according to CAI’s own Jenny Junker, which is much earlier than I thought. Most females probably aren’t even back yet but some males are in hormonal overdrive and can’t help it. Many prefer the sounds of their close cousins, the Red-winged Blackbirds, who arrive around the same time.
Close on their heels is another of these grimly-plumaged late winter migrants, the Fish Crow. This lesser known, more southern crow didn’t nest on the Cape as recently as the 1970s, but started an exponential increase in Massachusetts in the 1990s. Around here they mostly leave in winter, with the notable exception of some pretty big winter flocks in places like Bourne and in the famous Vineyard crow roosts. But for most of us, Fish Crows disappear in winter, and we forget about them. Until late February, when you hear what sounds like a crow with a cold, or maybe the Fran Drescher version of a crow. I heard my first ones in the last week of February.
Maybe our most anticipated late winter arrival is another rapidly expanding species, the Osprey. The first flurry of sightings came in over the last week from Falmouth to Orleans, including a traditionally early male at the Cedar Pond nest by the Orleans rotary – he has come back as early as March 4, almost two weeks ahead of the traditional St. Patrick’s day arrival date for Osprey. In fact, the female is even back as of yesterday – this pair may be scarred by past battle with a pair of eagles that tried to take over their nest, so they book their flights early in case they have to fight for their turf again. As more and more return in the coming weeks, their oddly chirpy calls will fill the air once again.
Next week stay tuned for a rundown of the shorebird migrants of late winter, including the bird so many love to hate, the Piping Plover. In the meantime, enjoy the mostly somber new birds of late winter. You take what you can get in March around here. And hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll find the Turkey Vulture of happiness sitting on your windowsill one of these warm mornings.
