I have a Red Oak in my neighbor?s yard, a mature tree standing 80 feet tall; it is where I have seen Great Horneds perch to hunt flying squirrels, seen Cooper?s Hawks perch to survey the neighborhood, or where the Coopers peel bark to line their nest with. Great Crested Flycatchers, Baltimore Orioles and Red-bellied Woodpeckers call all summer long from this tree, but I have never found a nest there. In early morning, champagne gold light from the rising sun paints the tree and defines its every detail. Today I watched as a wave of warblers passed through this same tree; a male Redstart yo-yoing out from his perch to snap up bugs above and below and beyond, his tail fanning to show his orange flames. He sang and called incessantly, stayed in the upper third of the canopy, within the outer branches. A Blackburnian male moved through the middle canopy of the oak, its throat and face so rich in orange pigment, the Redstart?s flames seemed yellow by comparison. The Blackburnian moved more directly through the foliage, foraging along a limb, looking above and around like a vireo, flying outside the tree canopy to flycatch, lacking the swooping grace of a Redstart, buzzy in flight like a Kinglet. It sang only once, ending in the ascending trill that defines a Minnesota Spruce forest for me in June. While these boldly-marked males lit up this oak, I noticed a bird moving through the lower limbs, a scant 15 feet off the ground. I saw tail-bobbing and expected a Palm Warbler, but confirmed with my Bausch & Lombs it was a male Bay-breasted Warbler. The tail bob not as quick and frequent as a Palm, slower like a Waterthrush, yet the colors were magnificent. The maroon cap and sides with the bright gold of the cheeks reminded me of a Gopher Fan dressed in a maroon sweater and cap with gold earmuffs. It moved slowly through the tree, making quick short jumps to feed, not as inclined to aerial sorties as its more brightly clothed relatives. All three birds foraged in the tree at once; I glassed from bird to bird as they spent the better part of ten minutes feeding in plain sight. The Blackburnian flew into my white pines and disappeared, though I could still hear its singing. The Redstart still hung around, catching my peripheral vision constantly with its swooshing, fluttering movements, its flashing of its colors. The Bay-breasted just disappeared. Beautiful birds, a splash of fall colors in vibrant fall foliage.
Mark Alt Lean Six Sigma Black Belt Project Resources Group Best Buy Co., Inc. ? Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail
