Last weekend’s snowstorm was annoying in every way except one. The snow provided proof that winter was over, and summer had begun. How do I know? A little bird told me.
Since January, there has been a steady number of birds flitting into my yard, scavenging on and under my bird feeders. They are especially easy to see and tally on a white blanket of fresh slush.
This week, a fox sparrow joined them — a sure sign that the early wave of spring migrants was underway.
Fox sparrows are unusual but not surprising visitors in spring and fall. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen one in my yard. They make themselves hard to notice, preferring to stay on the ground, foraging quietly. They linger only a short time before continuing northward.
Similar reports have been popping up all over. Kristin Lindquist gleefully photographed one on Monday, documenting her 94th yard bird — that is, the 94th species she’s seen in her Camden yard.
Fox sparrows are enigmatic. They nest among the conifers across northern forests and down the Rockies. They winter throughout the southern United States, rarely leaving North America.
A few stick around Maine’s southern coastline in the colder months, and virtually the entire east coast population passes through Maine in migration.
Regional variation is typical among species that are widespread. Four fox sparrow “types” are currently recognized. “Sooty” fox sparrows breed in the Pacific Northwest. “Slate-colored” fox sparrows inhabit the Rockies. “Thick-billed” fox sparrows are in California. Maine hosts the “red” subspecies, and its range extends across Canada into Alaska.
Fox sparrows have puzzled me for a while. Two years ago, the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife considered them scarce enough to put on the list of “species of special concern.”
“Why,” I asked? “I run into them routinely wherever I go in the North Maine Woods.”
It was left off the list.
Fox sparrows probe for food in leaf litter, often beneath impenetrable thickets. They seldom perch in view. But they’re loud. They sing with gusto well into late June. If they’re around, you know it.
For several years, I’ve opined that many southern birds are moving north because of climate change, and that no northern birds are moving south. I may have been slightly wrong about that.
By coincidence, I accepted the task of writing up the fox sparrow account for the forthcoming Maine Bird Atlas. The book won’t be out for another couple of years, but I was able to view five years of recently collected data before writing my report. I was astonished by what I discovered.
Maine’s first atlas was published in the 1980s. Surveys at that time discovered just two breeding pairs of fox sparrows in Maine, both along the northwestern border with Québec.
The recent survey found them in 95 places, from the Quebéc border all the way to the eastern edge of Baxter State Park.
Fox sparrows have multiplied profusely in Maine over the past 30 years and extended their range 75 miles eastward.
Fox sparrows are larger, redder and more heavily streaked than other sparrows. They are memorable. I was about 14 years old when I saw my first one, and I still remember exactly where that was — up-ta-camp, behind the cabin, foraging in the leaf litter next to the kerosene tank.
Other sparrows are also moving around right now. For the last month, an American tree sparrow has been hiding out in my neighborhood. I’ve only seen him when snowfall forced him to hang out near the feeder.
This week, three were on my lawn. His new companions were likely just passing through, on their way to northern Canada. He’ll be joining them shortly.
Feeders attract passing birds, even when the birds have no intention of landing there. First, there is likely to be spilled food on the ground where they prefer to forage.
Second, if they see a flock of birds at the feeder as they pass overhead, they can correctly assume that there is no danger lurking nearby.
Song sparrows will flood back into eastern and northern Maine any minute. I usually expect to hear the first one sing in Bangor around April 1.
Chipping sparrows will return shortly. Swamp sparrows often get back to wetlands before the ice is completely melted.
Indeed, any bird that dines primarily on vegetative matter rather than insects will begin arriving over the next several weeks.
Spring is here. Please, no more snow.
