The End of the Gnatcatcher Days

On the eve of the last day in September, there's a hint of seasonal change in the air. The air's relatively cool, a steady breeze is sneaking around, and a few migrants are feeding up in the backyard. I'm not ready to claim that the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness has arrived; a quick look at the 10 day forecast puts that dream back to sleep. Still, with October barely 24 hours away, there's no denying that we're coming to the end of the Gnatcatcher Days.

I happen to like August and September birding. I've been down to the coast probably every weekend in the past two months and I can only think of two or three birdwatchers I've even crossed paths with. During the same span I have crossed paths with some pretty good birding days. In the woods I've seen a handful of Olive-sided Flycatchers, Mourning Warblers, and Bell's Vireos, and a couple dozen Yellow-bellied Flycatchers and Traill's Flycatchers. The beach has produced a few Lesser Black-backed Gulls, a couple of California Gulls, and some nice shorebirds. Inland, there's been good kingbird and scissor-tail action and good looks at every swallow on the state list. But the bird that's really emblematic of the dog days this year and every year is the tiny Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. These winged mice have been constant companions no matter what habitat I've birded in, and they haven't been shy about letting their presence be known. In August and September in Southwestern Louisiana, you're never far from a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. These are the Gnatcatcher Days.

We're lucky to have Blue-gray Gnatcatchers year round. They nest across most of the United States in summer, and while they winter well down into Central America, southern Louisiana is at the northern edge of their wide winter range. In transit they pass through in both spring and late summer, but they're most obvious at the latter time of year when they can be seen flitting over just above treetop level in the early hours of daylight. At this time, every woodlot and patch of scrub seems to have one--or many. Their curiosity draws them to check out everything that moves and makes them easy to find. Despite their minute size, they become the most conspicuous bird out there for a few long, hot weeks.

Soon--in a few days actually--gnatcatchers will give up their long run on center stage. Another huge wave of migrants, the birds that most birders think of as fall migrants (warblers, thrushes, catbirds, you name it) will swamp the gnatcatchers that are still with us. As a matter of fact, as I type this note, a new horde is building up, preparing to invade. Even though the temps will still be in the 80s then, we are now just a little over a week away from perhaps the most glorious day of fall, Indigo Bunting Day.

Bell's Vireo

This is one of my favorite times of year. Days are hot, but mornings and evenings are temperate. Migration is active but not so flashy that everyone is out. It's not uncommon to have a birding hotspot all to myself when I head out, and there are some pretty nice birds drifting through almost unseen.

This is the time of year to get out and look for regular but low-frequency migrants like Mourning Warbler and Olive-sided Flycatcher, and for spectacular longshots like Sulphur-bellied Flycatcher. It's also the time to try to document migrants that are probably a little more common than we realize, like Bell's Vireo.

Bell's Vireos are hard to find even when you know they're around, and chances are that a few pass through when we're not around, these hot dry days of migration when fall birding is still just a gleam in many birders' eyes. Bell's are also drab, so a quick look at one of them isn't the slam dunk that a look at a male Mourning Warbler might be.

Bell's Vireos are Review List birds in Louisiana, birds for which reports should be submitted to the Louisiana Bird Records Committee. In recent years reports of Bell's Vireo have increased and they may eventually be downgraded if they turn out to be more common than supposed. Sightings should be well-documented to eliminate the possibility of mistaken identity with young White-eyed Vireos (which don't have white eyes yet). Pictures of Bell's Vireos can be hard to get, but even a bad picture will often clinch the ID. The photo above, while not great, should be sufficient to document a recent sighting of this nondescript little songbird. I took the picture at the Baton Rouge Audubon Sanctuary at Peveto Woods down in Cameron Parish on August 30, 2009.