This time of year, all the more interesting birds tend to be on their way north, and quickly; thus, predicting where the action is remains a daily crap-shoot. In view of this, we decided to take advantage of our superior knowledge of nearby sites rather than undertake hours-long road trips to distant locales—the current example being six-plus hours required to visit the western border of windy, cold, treeless Paulding County to ogle a couple of snowy owls–and instead take a loop through familiar central Ohio habitats.
Fourteen of us assembled at the traditional spot at 530 am, along with another would-be participant who hoped we might be making the seven-hour trek, through NE Ohio’s snow, to see a Eurasian wigeon; disappointed that we had less burdensome plans, he headed off on his lonesome, and we hurried off to Killdeer Plans, where we planned to watch the sun come up while we listened for nocturnal birds.
A few of us arrived early enough to do so, hearing a good selection: great horned, barred, and short-eared owls, woodcocks, and some early diurnal species, including rusty blackbirds. The rest of the group, true to form, spent more time talking than listening, but were able to see some of these birds, and others looming in the brightening gloom. Waterfowl migration was well underway, and we spent a lot of time in varied habitats, finding birds like northern shrikes and Lapland longspurs along the way. The skies were nearly cloudless, the winds nearly still, and the temperature rose gradually into the forties F. Tree swallows were gathering nesting material. A small flock of pectoral sandpipers was on schedule for this, probably Ohio’s best spot for these spring migrants. We dropped by the traditional grove and found our fourth owl species, a saw-whet roosting in a white pine.
We then sidestepped to the modest venue of the Upper Sandusky reservoir, a shallow body of water not entirely devoted to hooks and bullets. This was still partly iced in, but we were surprised to find a remarkable flotilla of birds in an open area; besides a few ruddy ducks and pied-billed grebes, it was dominated by 90-plus horned grebes in all stages of molt into spring plumage. None of us had seen a flock this large in Ohio, other than on rare occasions along the Erie shore. Our modest itinerary then led to a stop at a state wildlife area none of us had ever seen, Wyandot WA just south of Carey. After driving fifteen miles north to see it, we soon found why no birders ever went there, as it was a small quadrangle with a woodland of 30-year old trees, a small fishing pond, and weedy fields, including the obligatory pile of deer skeletons tossed next to the parking lot. This visit was entirely the writer’s fault, for which I apologize, but now at least we know how to get there, and no less importantly how to escape.
After a bit of lunch, we headed south. Big Island WA had decent numbers of quite skittish and virtually unapproachable waterfowl, none of the early shorebirds we’d hoped for, next to no raptors, but we did—thanks to a bit of derring-do by leader Bill Heck—finally glimpse a Wilson’s snipe, and later we were lucky enough to spot an American bittern flying along the back side of a marsh. We headed next to a body of water known to only a few of us—the Maysville upground reservoir. Along the way we remembered that one of our two resident archaeologists—Andy Sewell—had conducted some surveys for the new Columbus water supply, a large new reservoir in NW Delaware Co, that just might already be flooded already. We stopped by, saw its impressive Pharaonian dimensions, but found it was scheduled for actual water only next fall—could be good, and it had resulted in some mitigation money for habitat in western Franklin County. The only slightly older Maysville reservoir, equally gigantic, after a healthy walk proved virtually birdless in late afternoon except for a flock of several hundred waterfowl strategically located with the bright sun behind them and three hundred yards-plus distant. Some of us advanced another quarter-mile along the berm, but the birds just laughed, whereupon we retracted our tripods and headed home, happy with the company, the bright weather, and our tally at this tricky time of year a list of 80 species:
Canada Goose
Trumpeter Swan
Tundra Swan
Wood Duck
Gadwall
American Wigeon
American Black Duck
Mallard
Blue-winged Teal
Northern Shoveler
Northern Pintail
Green-winged Teal
Canvasback
Redhead
Ring-necked Duck
Lesser Scaup
White-winged Scoter
Bufflehead
Hooded Merganser
Red-breasted Merganser
Ruddy Duck
Common Loon
Pied-billed Grebe
Horned Grebe
Double-crested cormorant
American Bittern
Great Blue Heron
Turkey Vulture
Northern Harrier
Bald Eagle
Red-tailed Hawk
Rough-legged Hawk
American Coot
Sandhill Crane
Killdeer
Lesser Yellowlegs
Pectoral Sandpiper
Wilson’s Snipe
American Woodcock
Ring-billed Gull
Rock Pigeon
Mourning Dove
Great Horned Owl
Barred Owl
Short-eared Owl
Northern Saw-whet Owl
Belted Kingfisher
Red-headed Woodpecker
Red-bellied Woodpecker
Downy Woodpecker
Northern Flicker
American Kestrel
Northern Shrike
Blue Jay
American Crow
Horned Lark
Tree Swallow
Northern Rough-winged Swallow
Carolina Chickadee
Black-capped Chickadee
Tufted Titmouse
White-breasted Nuthatch
Eastern Bluebird
American Robin
Northern Mockingbird
European Starling
American Pipit
Lapland Longspur
Eastern Towhee
American Tree Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Dark-eyed Junco
Northern Cardinal
Red-winged Blackbird
Eastern Meadowlark
Rusty Blackbird
Common Grackle
House Finch
American Goldfinch
House Sparrow