Birds Along the River: First Come, First Serve

Some time in mid to late March, usually on a sunny day with thawing snow, I hear a sound that I haven't heard for several months, coming from high in a leafless tree along the river.

It is an explosive little utterance, "f-f-f-f-bee!"

"Ah-ha!" I say to myself, "he's back. It must be spring!"

Invariably, the earliest arrival of our feathered riparian tenants migrating from southern lands, is the eastern phoebe (Sayornis Phoebe). While they do not winter - or more accurately, reside - as far away as other neo-tropical migrants, some return from southern Mexico.

These small, brownish-grey birds are one of our most common flycatchers. They're often seen along the river perching on snags from which they can dart out and pick off hatching insects in mid-air. Other than their frequently emitted song for which they are named, their constant tail-wagging while sitting on a tree branch or wire is one of their most characteristic habits.

With a rather drab plumage of basically dark brown-gray on top and a contrasting pale olive or cream wash underneath, don't expect to recognize them from just the way they look. It's their call and their flycatching behavior that are the best clues for identification.

They nest early in the spring and regularly produce at least two clutches of eggs and nestlings over the season. Nests can be constructed in a variety of places, many of which are the result of human development - barns, sheds, house eaves, and very often, underneath bridges which pass over streams.

Once I had a pair try to construct a nest on the upper edge of a window frame. All they could manage was getting a lot of mud and straw to stick to the top of the window; they never completed the nest. Subsequently, I placed a small board just under the roof eave near the same window; but it hasn't been used yet. We'll see if they use it this year.

As soon as there is a good supply of bugs, usually the small black stoneflies or midges, we begin to see and hear the phoebes along the river.

So, the real herald of spring along our northern trout streams is not the chronic bait user, worm-addicted robin, but a fanatic and addicted lover of dry flies - the phoebe.

RWOL

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