If you’d told me in 2020 I’d become a bird person by 2023, I might have laughed at you. I never had anything against birds, and generally thought the hummingbirds in the bird sanctuary we walk in were cute, and the Great Horned Owls we got to see nesting in the same park were also extremely special to see, but that was pretty much the start and end of my interest; incidental and passing.
Something started to change last fall though, when I started finding some feathers on our walks. The first was a beautiful red feather from a Northern Flicker, then a beautiful spotted feather from a woodpecker, then shortly after that, a body feather from the Great Horned Owls.
I decided to add them to my nature journal. To accompany them, I did my best to identify them with The Feather Atlas, and researched the Flicker in the same way I would have done something I found at the beach. Turns out, that was really interesting; I loved learning Northern Flickers forage on the ground, eating insects like ants and snails/slugs. They differ from Woodpeckers in this way, preferring to hammer the ground instead of trees.
In retrospect, this is what started my gentle and gradual journey towards becoming a bird person. Shortly following these pages, in late October, we witnessed the migration of hundreds of Turkey Vultures riding thermals in preparation for flying South for the winter. That was remarkable, honestly I didn’t even know the Island had Turkey Vultures. We watched them for a solid 45 minutes, spiralling and riding thermals higher and higher, before moving on to a new thermal and repeating the process.
It wasn’t until this February however that I really got into birding. And it was all due to some particularly EXCELLENT ducks that we saw spending their last days of winter/early spring in the ponds in the park.
My favourite are the Mergansers. Specifically, the Common Merganser. I saw a pair of females swimming in the river and I was instantly hooked on how cool they look.
There’s something about their brown heads with the stark cut off and the mohawk-ish style feathers that just make me feel really happy to spot them.
We only ever spotted two females in the river on two separate days. And then they seem to have found somewhere else in the neighbourhood to hang out, possibly the beach where we saw a whole flock. It would be cool to see a male one day–they look super cute as well.
Much more common than the Common Merganser, ironically based on their name, is the Hooded Merganser—we’ve seen plenty of males and females this Spring in the rivers and ponds in the park. They’re pretty neat, and my partner loves them a lot. We watched a male catch and eat a fish that was far larger than what seemed possible for it to swallow, but after several minutes of repeated re-positioning it managed to get it down.
According to the Audobon Society, adult male Mergansers “may swallow fish more than 1 foot long.” That’s so wild. I’m not sure how big the fish we saw it swallow was, but it definitely looked disproportionate.
The Common Merganser looks much plainer than the Hooded ones, but it was the bird that really captured my heart and made me feel really excited to find all different kinds of birds now on our walks.
We’ve also seen a few Scaulps and a Ruddy Duck. It was the Common Merganser that was my “Spark Bird”, which, after I started talking about birds to my friends, I got a targeted Instagram ad that introduced me to the term. The ad was entirely about finding your “Spark Bird”, funnily enough.
A “Spark Bird” is apparently a well-known term in the birding community of that bird you first spot that turns you into a bird person. I definitely realized that was my experience.
I can’t really super explain why it was the Common Merganser. But I do know I’m very interested in birds now. I even picked up a pair of bright yellow binoculars in order to be able to see all the different birds we see closer. They’ve been amazing. I’ve been able to see some excellent Pileated Woodpeckers, Hooded Mergansers, and the Great Blue Heron much closer up. There was a Cooper’s Hawk sitting atop a streetlamp on a hilltop one day, but of course, it was the one day I didn’t bring the binoculars. We see the hawk every few months, so hopefully I’ll have my binoculars the next time.
I’m still working on being able to have the coordination and luck to take photos through the binocular lens, but I should be able to improve and then share the photos here.
We recently learned from talking to a regular in the park that the Great Horned Owl eggs have hatched in their nest (they hatched in early-mid March), and there are a few wee chicks that are growing right now. In a few weeks, we should be able to see them peering over the top of the nest; this year, for the first time with binoculars! I can’t wait! We’ll also be able to overserve their cute little attempts at learning flight this year much easier. We haven’t seen either owl parent around, but according to the volunteer network observing them, they’re most active in the evenings right now, and we’ve been exclusively walking in the morning or early afternoon. The days and nights are starting to warm up a bit though, and with the longer days, evening walks are seeming more enticing, so perhaps we’ll try and spot the parents soon one evening.
I made myself a little concertina sketchbook the other day, and I’m going to try to draw every bird I’ve seen in March in it. I haven’t started painting in it yet, but I’ll be sure to include here it when I finish.
That’s all for today! I just really like Common Mergansers!
- Emma
Thank you so much for reading Issue No.2 of the Strandline! This is a personal project I’ve started outside of my day-job of being a graphic designer. I want to document my love of nature, work on improving my art and nature journalling skills, and get much much better at identifying birds. If you enjoyed this, consider sharing or subscribing!