Non-Birding at the New River

What's a birder to do when the sun doesn't shine, and the birds sing only from hidden perches, refusing to come out and be admired? I tend to get distracted by other natural features, and the New River Gorge is chock-full of natural features, as well as an enormous man-made feature, the New River Bridge. The New River Gorge Bridge carries U.S. Highway 19 over the New River at a height of 876 feet, making it the highest vehicular bridge in the Americas, and the second-highest in the world. That's all straight down folks. For someone with acrophobia (namely me) it's a good thing the side of the bridge is concrete, and I can't see over when when driving.

One of our trips went down into the Gorge though, down a narrow, switch-backed road. We stopped at the base of the bridge supports for some birding. I must admit, mountain birding makes it easier to see warblers, since the trees are at eye-level and your neck doesn't hurt as much. The bridge was completed in 1977, and before that everyone just drove the narrow winding road down, crossed the river on a one lane bridge with a wood floor, and drove up another one lane road going up to the other side. I don't think there would be much to make me take this trip too often. But think back to the pioneers who didn't even have bridges or paved roads. Although finding land, homesteading, and raising crops and family on your own is hard enough, imagine the endless isolation. What if a family member is injured or ill? When it's time to give birth, your husband may not be able to return with a midwife in time. No wonder so many women died in childbirth. But the sheer loneliness must have been overwhelming. I'm glad to be an Interstate Highway girl, thanks.

View from old New River Bridge

Do I feel guilty about losing the birding focus? Nah....It's all fascinating. Things with roots always cooperate for the camera. How about a Jack the Referee plant found at Smokey's on the Gorge. Touchdown!

Every forest has a few Ents, if you look for them. I found this one at the Opossum Creek Retreat next to one of the cabins. The uplifted arms, long eyes and very long, open mouth remind me of Edvard Munch paintings of The Scream. A Screaming Ent in West Virginia...

Our guides, Connie Toops and Keith Richards, not only excel at hearing and recognizing bird calls, they know the other inhabitants of the biosphere as well.

Is this a blossom on a cedar tree? No, it's the cedar-apple rust, a fungus. Connie found another fungus that looked like a small orange tipped match growing in a puddle, but I don't remember what she called it.

I'm used to Spanish Moss and other kinds of epiphytic plants in the South. Lichens cover the bark of trees here in the mountains, to the point where you can't see the bark at all. I think this airy thing is some kind of lichen as well.

As the week progressed, we saw spring ebb and flow in the mountains. Along the valleys, the leaves were fully grown. In the higher elevations, most of the trees were still bare. How do you like this one? I call it the Red Velvet Oak for obvious reasons.

Birds are a bright flittering part of the forest, delighting us with their song. All the "small life" is necessary for the forest to provide a habitat for the birds. I love looking at anything with a different shape or color, then trying to find how it fits in the ecology. It would be nice if the chiggers, mosquitos and gnats didn't see me as a potential dinner though. I'm still itching and scratching from their attention.

I Found My Thrill on Bobolink Hill

We drive up Sewell Mountain in a dense fog to reach the large open field which is home to Bobolinks and Meadow Larks. Some are in the trees, and others chase each other in circles around the field, burbbling and bubbling and calling loudly. The song is delightful, but it's difficult to see them clearly in the fog--black bodies, yellow at the back of the head and white wing patches when flying. We finally stalked one that landed in the grass for some closer photos. They remind me of Leopold Stowkowski conducting at Carnegie Hall in a tux and with a great mane of hair.

As the crew walked down the wet field to the van, I stayed behind for a bit. How can I capture this feeling? The song rises and falls and circles me with wonder. Listen to this video closely and see how many bird songs you can find. Then close your eyes and imagine yourself on the top of a fog shrouded hill, surrounded by magic singing birds.

Down in the rhododendron thickets in a creek bed we spot Common Yellow Throats, Louisiana Warblers and a brilliantly yellow Hooded Warbler. A Ruffed Grouse paces through the woods along the road as we drive slowly by. We heard one drumming earlier this week, and this makes the sighting complete.

Mother Broadwinged Hawk glares at us as we walk beneath her nest, but faithfully stays with her eggs, instead of trying to chase us away. I hear her muttering to herself, "Why are all these strange creatures coming to my home? Don't they have lives of their own?"

Other than the annoying rain, the week at New River has been perfect. If the sun had continued to shine like it did the first two days, my photos would have sparkled with the colorful warblers. As it is, everything looks a bit fuzzy, since the air itself was foggy and blurred. Our total for the week is 89 species and 19 new life birds, mostly warblers. I became quite adept at wiggling my way out of the back seat of the van, without getting stuck. Julie Zickefoose related some of her stories last night, and her orphan birds and the leucistic (white) Vulture had us misty eyed.

I hope we can join the Blogger Flock again. Black Swamp Bird Observatory and Magee Marsh sound like good possibilities both for their great diversity of birds and central location. Excellent speakers have pretty well convinced us to make a trip to the Galapagos Islands. Of course, Dick has always wanted to go, and now I'm looking forward to it too. Tonight is the last party, and it will be nice to NOT get up at 5:00 am tomorrow morning. But that's the life of a birder--get up before dawn, slog around in the rain on narrow gravel mountain roads, and add great new birds to your life list. I love it!

Vultures in the Mist

The New River Gorge can fill with fog in an instant on days like today. When the rain stops for a few minutes, the mist lifts just as quickly. Along the river bottom, our group ooohed and aaahed over a cooperative Louisiana Water Thrush singing over the roar of water bouncing from one rock to another in the creek. I glanced around and saw a Turkey Vulture sitting on a snag by the railroad track.

In a swoosh of black wings, another vulture landed nearby, and seemed to be talking, or maybe whispering Vulture sweet nothings to the first one. Is this an American Gothic picture, or what? "Don't be too obvious, but that woman is watching us."

"Never fear, my darling! I will protect you!" Who would have imagined chivalry in Vultures?

Dandelion fluff is commonly noticed, but not seen in the spring. These caught my eye with "feathers" on the end of each little seed. Is this something other than regular yard dandelions? I don't remember the ones in my yard showing such character.

Returning to the van through the drippy woods, we find two box turtles. Apparently we have intruded on a turtle tryst, and this guy doesn't hesitate to glare at us with his bright red eye. His cigarette won't set the damp leaves on fire, so we discretely move on down the path.

Blue After the Rain

These two photos make up for a day of rain, cold, and bad lighting.

Patience, Persistence and Perspective

Yellow Chat

"Is Muddlety a place or an attitude?" we asked our guides this morning. As it turns out, we passed a sign to a place called Muddlety, but it just as well describes our bird watching trip in the rain. Not an absolute downpour, thank goodness, but a steady, drenching rain that blurs your binoculars and camera lens. I kept fanny pack, camera and binoculars under my raincoat, pulling out the needed item for immediate use, then tucking it back into the relative dry of the raincoat. It felt like being pregnant with optics. Maybe I could hatch a Swarovski binocular if I'm careful during pregnancy!

Prairie Warbler

Connie and Keith gave us extra doses of patience and persistence this morning. Every so often, they stopped the van, rolled down the windows and listened intently. "Is it?" they glanced at each other. "Everyone out! You want to see this," and we all piled out of the van like kids doing a Chinese Fire Drill. Despite the rain, we found Blue Winged Warbler, the sought for Cerulean Warbler, and heard the rare Swainson's Warbler. Although we stopped to listen and look several times, I think there was actually only ONE Cerulean which simply followed us down the road. "Watch me make these guys come out of their natural habitat one more time," it said to all the other birds. We also saw lots of Lesser Rain Warblers, making the leaves move each time they landed or took off. We were unable to find the elusive White Billed Rain Warbler though. Better luck next time!

Ovenbird

Blue Winged Warbler

This trip includes a trip to the Big Tree, estimated to be about 300 years old. As we ate lunch by the tree, chain saws buzzed on the next hill, and we were close to tears listening to at least 6 different trees fall to the ground. The crash echos across the valley, as if the whole forest is mourning. Surprisingly, the birds did not seem to be affected by the noise and destruction.

The forest doesn't give up. We saw one stump bravely sending up shoots.

In a forest, your perspective should not be limited to the birds and the trees. This little snail certainly was ready for a road trip to explore new places. Keith found a Red Spotted Newt which was ready to climb right up on Susan's shoulder!

British Soldier lichens live in a world of their own, completely limited to the tops of some old fence posts. I can image small creatures viewing this as the entire universe, which is correct given their perspective.

New River Warbler Wars

Northern Parula

People tend to think of birdsong as only a beautiful part of nature, to be enjoyed in the spring. For the birds, singing in the spring is a much more serious matter. There are territories to be established and protected against intruders. This is war!

Blackburnian Warbler

As we walk among the trees, we hear a Parula singing to the left. Then another answers from the right. Listening carefully, we can sometimes establish the "front" between two competing males. The iPod calls in one of them. "Who are you and what are you doing on my turf?" he demands. If no other male of his species is discovered he goes back to foraging. Occasionally, we manage to attract both males, and then the chase begins. Bird ethics prescribe only limited use of bird calling like this, to allow the birds to live their lives without interruption and needless expenditure of energy needed for attracting a mate and raising a brood. I agree, but it is fun to actually see the bird in question, rather than marking most of my list as "heard only."

Black-throated Blue Warbler

I am so glad for those hours in the car listening to the birdsong CDs now. At least I have some clue as to what birds are around, even if I have trouble finding the little trillers in the branches straight above my head. The trip leaders here at New River are wonderful about making sure everyone gets to see the bird of the moment. I don't have enough words to describe the bright bright orange in the Blackburnian Warbler we found this morning. Bare branches add to the challenge of getting a good photo. The squeaky wagon sound did in fact come from a Black and White Warbler. Cute little Black Capped Chickadees (the northern guys) cleaned out a nest hole, removing wood chips and dumping them faster than the speed of light almost.

Black and White Warbler

Today's trip climbed 4,000 feet in elevation to Cranberry Glade, a trip to the boreal bogs of New England, right here in the Appalachians of West Virginia. The National Park Service has a boardwalk to protect the fragile bog habitat. Imagine this in the fall, with the trees and cranberry bushes all turning red.

Eastern Skunk Cabbage

The boggy environment does not carry many nutrients in the soil, and we found several carnivorous plants, which eat insects to obtain nitrogen they can't get from the soil. I've seen Skunk Cabbage in wet areas of the Pacific Northwest, and Pitcher plants in coastal Alabama where similar bogs can be found. The Eastern Skunk Cabbage produces its stinky blossom on the ground, before sprouting any leaves. The Western Skunk Cabbage grows a bright yellow blossom on a tall stalk, much different than the Eastern.

Pitcher Plant - Carnivorous

Due to the higher elevation in the Glade, spring is several weeks behind what we see elsewhere. Few trees are blooming, but Marsh Marigolds brighten the landscape in all directions. The food at the festival is excellent! All meals are included in the package, and they are far better than what I would find at the neighborhood fast food restaurants if left to my own resources. A hot breakfast greeted us in an open gazebo above the Gorge at 6:00 am. Heaven bless a good caterer! A display of moths clinging to the restroom walls under a lamp added an extra treat. This luna moth wins the prize for Flashiest Moth. Several other small greys would have been completely invisible on their normal tree bark perches (this was was park brown.) A few little white moths were just asking for trouble against the dark wall.

Tomorrow it may rain, but we are all ready for it. Let the birding continue!