Author Archives: William Freedberg

About William Freedberg

Studies indicate that Will Freedberg occupies the ecological niche of a semi-nocturnal generalist. His habits change seasonally, doing fieldwork and bird surveys in the summer, but also blogging, coordinating volunteers, taking photos, and doing background research. Life history traits include growing up in Boston and reluctantly graduating from Yale College. Behavioral research shows that William occasionally migrates to the tropics to seek out Hoatzins, pangolins, and sloths, but mostly socializes with his age cohort in urbanized areas of eastern North America. He is short-sighted, slow to react, and a poor swimmer.

November Is Western Vagrants Month: 6 Species To Watch For

Posted on October 26, 2018 by William Freedberg

Every November, most migratory birds of the American West are on their way south, but a handful always end up in New England. While it might seem surprising to find a Western Kingbird along the chilly Massachusetts coastline, it can be fairly easy to predict which weather conditions will bring a small wave of western vagrants into the Northeast.

Fronts and storms are key, especially those bringing winds from the southwest. After the breeding season, some migratory species disperse in seemingly random, weather-dependent ways before continuing to the tropics. Additionally, most populations of migratory birds include a few individuals born without their cohort’s navigational abilities. These birds with “reversed compasses” often migrate irregularly during their first year of life.

These vagrants can show up anywhere, but there are a few tricks to looking for them. Watch the weather, and go birding a few days to a week after strong southwesterly winds. Seek out edge habitats, bodies of water, and potential sources of food— like thickets of late-season berries, or low and sheltered areas near coastlines where flying insects persist later into the fall.

The past few weeks have been a promising lead-up to western rarity season, with Cave Swallows already appearing on the South Shore, and a Say’s Phoebe seen in Barre in mid-October.

Right now, conditions look fairly promising—winds over the dry interior of the US are blowing strongly from the northwest, but they connect with two large cyclonic storms moving northeast. Following that, forecasters call for strong southwest winds. It will be interesting to see whether or not the upcoming storm system leaves any vagrants in its wake, and in all likelihood, it will.

Here are some species to stay on the lookout for:

Cave Swallow: These small birds of the south-central US and Caribbean have begun to show up like clockwork. They arrive almost exclusively at coastal sites after strong pulses of southwest winds, and in recent years, there have been numerous annual sightings several birds at once. The phenomenon of Cave Swallows showing up in the Northeast is fairly new. Cave Swallows were extremely rare in Massachusetts before the last decade or so.

Ash-throated Flycatcher: These also used to be much less frequent, but in recent years, have been showing up every 1-2 years at coastal sites. A couple have been seen a few miles inland at open, brushy sites like Drumlin Farm in Lincoln and Danehy Park in Cambridge, but with less regularity.

Western Tanager: Roughly the same patterns as Ash-throated Flycatcher, but with more inland records.

MacGillivray’s Warbler: One or several show up about every other year. They are mostly detected in farm fields and suburban thickets . Most sightings are from November, though a few exist from the Cape and South Coast regions in the early fall or late winter.

Mountain Bluebird. These only show up every 3-5 years, having been most recently seen in MA at Turner’s Falls Airport from November 13-16, 2016.

Townsend’s Solitaire: Almost annually, some solitaires arrive in November and linger until at least midwinter. In Massachusetts, most records are from Cape Ann and Cape Cod, although there are many inland records from Connecticut, Vermont and New Hampshire.

There are plenty of other species that show up well outside of their range in November, from the annual Western Kingbird to the exceptionally rare Common Ground-Dove. Will you be the next Massachusetts birder to find one?

Subscribe to Distraction Displays for more birding tips, news, and updates on Mass Audubon’s conservation activities.

Studying Forest Structure At Elm Hill

Posted on October 9, 2018 by William Freedberg

Our bird conservation staff spent the past week collecting data at Elm Hill Wildlife Sanctuary, our demonstration site for Foresters for the Birds. Since we’re using this site to show how responsible forest management can enrich bird habitat, we need before-and-after data to compare changes in vegetation and bird diversity.

Birds See Forests For The Trees

The physical structure of a forest directly affects which birds are found there. The amount of vegetation near the forest floor (or “understory”) changes whether or not the forest can host a whole suite species that nest near the ground, like Ovenbirds and Black-throated Blue Warblers. Forests with open midstories (the layer of vegetation between 5–50 feet off the ground) attract flycatching birds like Eastern Wood-Pewees, but dense midstories appeal to Wood Thrushes and Canada Warblers.

The goal of our work at Elm Hill is to demonstrate how every forest species has its own habitat preferences, and how thoughtful land management can create habitat for declining species. Since three quarters of Massachusetts’ forests are in private hands, it’s critical to make these lands as hospitable as possible to wildlife.

Collecting Vegetation Data

A data sheet we use for recording information about trees and forest structure at Elm Hill.

Before we alter any habitat at Elm Hill, we’re recording these factors at sites where we’ve previously done bird surveys:

Total woody biomass (i.e., the average size and number of trees in a given area)
Tree species makeup (i.e., which trees are there, and how many of each)
Canopy density (i.e., the amount of cover provided by leaves in the treetops)
Sapling density (i.e., the number of young trees from around 1–6 feet tall)
Coarse woody debris (i.e., the number of logs and slash piles on the ground)

We outline a 400-square-meter plot with ropes at every site to make sure we collect data from the same area of land each time. This works pretty well until somebody tangles the ropes:

Jeff tangled the ropes. It definitely was not me.

While measuring trees, logs, and saplings is straightforward, you might wonder how researchers measure canopy density— and the instrument for this is quite cool. A spherical densiometer (pictured below) condenses a wide view of the canopy into a small image (much like a fisheye camera lens) with a grid over it. By estimating the percentage of each grid square occupied by leaves or trunks (and adding them up, and taking readings in each cardinal direction), we have a standardized and simple way of measuring canopy density. This also works as a proxy for determining how much light reaches the forest floor.

A spherical densiometer, used for measuring the amount of leaves in the treetops.

Long-term Goals

After foresters have cleared the woods of invasive species and created a variety of spatial habitat types, we’ll be able to show what changes this brings to Elm Hill’s bird species.

Elm Hill contains mostly 70–90-year-old forest, like much of Massachusetts. We’ll manage parts of the sanctuary for birds that prefer young forest, which are in trouble statewide, and in other part’s we’ll try to mimic old-growth forest conditions, which would take over a century to emerge naturally. Hopefully, we can then use this site as a physical example of how foresters and landowners can improve bird habitat on the properties they manage.

Cities Need Bird-Friendly Buildings

Posted on September 21, 2018 by William Freedberg

Between 100 million and 1 billion birds die annually from collisions with windows. Glass windowpanes can reflect nearby trees, shrubs, and sky. Birds’ eyes aren’t able to distinguish clear reflections from the real thing, so they sometimes aim for a reflection and fly smack into a pane of glass.

Earlier this year, Mass Audubon’s advocacy team expressed concern about a plan to install an all-glass façade on a building facing Post Office Square in Boston. An island of green in downtown’s sea of concrete, Post Office Square is a locally important stopover site for migratory birds. A few plantings in the middle of a nearly treeless part of the city attracts a surprising diversity of species, and adding a wall of glass panels across from one side of the park increases the risk of collisions . The well-meaning developer wanted to add a perimeter garden and a green roof to the site, which ironically would increase window strikes by attracting birds to reflections of the greenery.

Luckily, when told about the risk the project posed for birds, this developer was willing to make the site safer. They are in the process of installing glass with non-reflective stripes, which will break up reflections of what’s outside and steer birds away from the windows. Many similar technologies exist to make windows visible obstacles to birds without interfering with peoples’ view—from glass incorporating ultraviolet patterns that only birds can see, to entire panes made of non-reflective material.

Post Office Square, an urban stopover site for migrating birds (Photo by Will Freedberg)

You Can Help!

Skyscrapers account for disproportionate numbers of bird deaths, but the number of single-story buildings in the US make them an equally important front for reducing window strikes. Every homeowner interested in conservation can take steps to make their homes safer for birds:

Keeping window screens on year-round. This is a great option because it provides a visual barrier as well as soft, springy physical barrier to incoming birds.
Purchase and apply a one-way, see-through film to your windows, which both cuts reflections for birds and blocks the view into your home from outside.
Finally, any birdfeeders close to your house (within 15 feet) should be even closer to windows (less than 1.5 feet away). While this sounds weird, birds do slow down before perching, so any window collisions as a bird comes in to land at your feeder is unlikely to injure the bird.

References: Daniel Klem, 1990 : Collisions Between Birds And Windows: Mortality And Prevention

1,027 Bobolink Fledglings Saved This Summer

Posted on September 6, 2018 by William Freedberg

By The Numbers: The 2018 Bobolink Project

We’re tallying up the results of this year’s Bobolink Project, and the numbers look great! The Project protected 932 acres of nesting habitat, up from 512 acres in 2016 (which was the project’s first year at Mass Audubon). Field surveys showed 368 pairs of Bobolinks on participating farmers’ land. Since Bobolinks fledge an average of 2.79 chicks every season, this translates to saving an estimated 1,027 Bobolinks—many of which may return to nest again next year!

It takes just 12 days for nestlings to leave the nest, but another two to three weeks before they can fly well enough to escape the mowers used for haying. Photo by S. Bardella

How it Works

Bobolinks rely on grasslands to breed, and often find that hayfields work just as well. Until the mid-20^th century, many hayfields were mowed in late summer, weeks after Bobolink chicks had left the nest. Now, high demand for livestock feed means that farmers are mowing earlier and earlier; early-cut hay is richer in protein and more valuable. Sadly, this means that many Bobolink nestlings end up under the mower.

Every year, Mass Audubon offers farmers compensation for waiting to mow their hayfields until after nesting season. This model has so far proved effective: plenty of farmers would rather not mow over active bird nests, but need their hayfields to produce some source of income. Mass Audubon uses donations to cover these farmers’ losses from delaying mowing, keeping their farms economically viable while protecting grassland birds.

Photo by Martha Akey

Next Year’s Goals

Even with increased donations, the number of interested farmers is outpacing available funds. This year, we had enough funds to protect two thirds of project applicants’ land. We also had to leave an additional 492 acres of Bobolink habitat on the table. Sadly, this funding gap meant that most fledglings on the unprotected acreage didn’t make it.

While it may not be possible to prevent every single agriculture-related Bobolink death across the region, it is painful to have to turn away farmers who want to partner with us to protect birds.

If you’d like to help us protect even more acres and Bobolinks next year, please donate here!

How Do Pelagic Birds Find Fresh Water At Sea?

Posted on August 31, 2018 by William Freedberg

The short answer: they don’t.

Seabirds drink ocean water, and excrete the excess salt that would otherwise leave them dehydrated. Specialized glands, located above the beak and just under the eyes, filter salt ions from seabirds’ bloodstream. The glands also draw out just enough water to dissolve salt into a highly concentrated saline solution, which runs out through the bird’s nostrils.

If you’ve ever seen a gull standing on dry land, with fluid dripping down the tip of its beak… that’s because it’s expelling salt!

These glands can atrophy and stop working if not regularly used. Seabirds at zoos and wildlife rehabilitation clinics actually need to be kept in saltwater—if their glands stop pumping, the birds can experience salt poisoning when re-exposed to ocean water.

A Sooty Shearwater exhibits a typical “tubenose” beak structure: elongated nostrils through which salt is excreted. Photo © William Freedberg

Terrific Tubenoses

Birds in the family Procellariformes (which includes albatrosses, shearwaters, petrels and storm-petrels) excrete salt through one or two tubes that sit atop their beaks, giving the group the informal name of “tubenoses”. A common misconception among birders is that this tube is an organ used uniquely for excreting salt.

In fact, it’s not clear that these birds process salt any more efficiently than any other seabirds, like pelicans or marine ducks. Tubenoses’ beak structure might help them keep saline excretions from blowing into their eyes in high oceanic winds, but that’s probably not its primary function.

Recent evidence suggests that these tubes help channel airborne scents, contributing to tubenoses’ ability to sniff out plankton blooms on the open ocean. There’s also evidence that the nasal tubes of albatrosses contain pressure-sensing nerves, helping these birds find and navigate the rising air currents they use to stay aloft.

Seabirds Under Threat

Seabirds’ exquisitely fine-tuned sense of smell serves them poorly in oceans plagued by plastic pollution. It turns out that plastic, especially when covered in marine algae, smells just like the zooplankton seabirds love to eat.

While some seabirds that frequent Massachusetts waters are doing well (like Wilson’s Storm-Petrels and Cory’s Shearwaters) others are in serious trouble. And unlike some declining groups, pelagic birds’ absence flies largely under the radar of most land-bound naturalists. Among myriad dangers, entanglement in fishing gear, climate volatility, and invasive species drive seabird declines.

Help fight these threats by purchasing American-caught seafood—fishery regulations here favor seabirds more than in much of the world— and by reducing plastic waste.

The World’s Funniest Bird Sounds- And How They’re Made

Posted on August 24, 2018 by William Freedberg

Last month’ post about amazing bird sounds from Massachusetts was so popular, we decided to create a definitive ranking of the funniest bird vocalizations from around the world.

How do birds make so many sounds?

Birds have a vocal organ called a “syrinx” that mammals (and other vertebrates) lack. Different groups of birds have specialized syrinxes that can produce different sounds, but all of them allow for a wide variety of vocalizations.

Humans have a single set of vocal chords that sit in the windpipe, or trachea. Most birds’ syrinxes, on the other hand, are located where their trachea branches in two (towards each lung). This allows some songbirds, like thrushes, to regulate the air exiting each lung individually, creating two distinct notes at once. Other birds, like parrots, have a syrinx in their trachea—but with more moving parts than human vocal chords.

All syrinxes share this complexity. In addition to using membranes that vibrate to produce sound, the syrinx contains a network of muscles to “shape” air as it exits their lungs—sort of like how we use our lips to whistle, but with a few added degrees of complexity.

The contenders:

10. Screaming Piha

This group of Pihas from the Amazon sound… just plain rude.

9. Slate-colored Solitaire

Like the Veery in Massachusetts, these members of the thrush family give the forest soundscape an ethereal feel with their clear, echoing whistles. Click on 2:18 for the best part!

8. Andean Goose

These aren’t flatulent geese- that’s just their syringeal flutter.

7. Willow Ptarmigan

Ptarmigans sound cartoonish, and their clucking can resemble the sound of human speech.

6. Great Jacamar

Ambush predators of the rainforest mid-story, Jacamars can sit motionless for hours waiting for their butterfly prey to come within catching distance. Their nasal, drawn-out calls fade out towards the end, sounding almost lazy, and evoking the midday heat of tropical forests.

5. Short-tailed Shearwater

Shearwaters and petrels are often silent at sea, but clamorous at their burrows.

4. Capuchinbird

These birds are incredibly loud, and their voices can carry for miles. They’re known locally as the “calfbird” for their lowing, cow-like moans.

3. Laughing Kookaburra

A classic sound of the Australian bush at dawn, gregarious Kookaburras duet and countersing with each other frequently.

2. Imperial Snipe

This combination of cackles and what sounds like a landing spaceship is just about as weird as it gets. But the otherwordly humming and buzzing that accompanies the Snipe’s vocalization is created by air rushing past its wings as it displays– so the snipe only comes in at #2.

1. Horned Screamer

Screamers gulp like bitterns, honk like geese, and irritate residents of Amazonian South America with their dawn cacophanies like no other bird.

With such a wide range of sounds, it’s no wonder birdsong inspired so many human musicians—from Vivaldi’s 17^th century goldfinch themes, to DJ Ben Mirin’s wildlife-inspired EDM.

What do you think about this (deeply subjective) ranking? Can you think of any birds that should have made the cut?

Two Poems for Bobolinks: Dickinson and Bryant

Posted on August 17, 2018 by William Freedberg

Mass Audubon’s Arcadia Wildlife Sanctuary: a few miles from where Emily Dickinson was inspired by Bobolinks- which have returned to the property thanks to careful stewardship.

References to Bobolinks abound in poetry from 19^th-century New England. Massachusetts authors drew inspiration from local birds for a host of reasons, not least because they saw local species as uniquely American subjects (as opposed to, say, the European Nightingale). Bobolinks and Meadowlarks helped distinguish their work from other English-language poets’, and perhaps more importantly, ground it in a sense of place.

Bobolinks were also particularly an familiar and evocative sight through the 1800s and into the past century. Widespread low-impact agriculture provided habitat for field-loving Bobolinks, which don’t mind living near humans as long as their nests are undisturbed. Conspicuous and bold, Bobolinks became an icon of the countryside, and a cultural touchstone for many.

Emily Dickinson, one of rural Massachusetts most-celebrated poets, took a particular liking to them. Bobolinks recurred as a motif in more than 20 of her works. Dickinson often made the birds into rowdy or joyfully anti-authoritarian figures, as here:

Some keep the Sabbath going to Church –
I keep it, staying at Home –
With a Bobolink for a Chorister –
And an Orchard, for a Dome –

Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice –
I, just wear my Wings –
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton – sings.

God preaches, a noted Clergyman –
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last –
I’m going, all along.

–Emily Dickinson

Loosely interpreted, the poem emphasizes finding joy in nature and in the everyday. Here, the Bobolink is part of Dickinson’s everyday “Heaven” on earth; its song part of her quiet resistance to organized religion. Dickinson had studied religion in a seminary, but perhaps tellingly, dropped out after a year.

Dickinson always ascribes human qualities to the bird to illustrate a point—whether as a “Sexton” (someone who rings the bells of a church) calling her attention to beauty in nature, or in other poems, as a disruptive “Rowdy of the Meadow.”

Other poets, however, grounded poems in Bobolinks’ natural history and biology, although few connected them with complex societal themes as adroitly as Dickinson. William Cullen Bryant, for example, managed to accurately convey key points about Bobolinks’ seasonal behavior (despite leaning pretty heavily on twee personification and cutesy metaphors):

Merrily swinging on briar and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,
Over the mountain-side or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name:
Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Snug and safe is that nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers;
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln is gaily drest,
Wearing a bright black wedding-coat;
White are his shoulders, and white his crest;
Hear him call in his merry note:
Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Look what a nice new coat is mine,
Sure there was never a bird so fine.
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln’s Quaker wife,
Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings,
Passing at home a patient life,
Broods in the grass while her husband sings:
Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Brood, kind creature; you need not fear
Thieves and robbers while I am here.
Chee, chee, chee.

Modest and shy as a nun is she;
One weak chirp is her only note,
Braggart and prince of braggarts is he,
Pouring boasts from his little throat:
Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Never was I afraid of man;
Catch me cowardly knaves, if you can !
Chee, chee, chee.

Six white eggs on a bed of hay,
Flecked with purple, a pretty sight!
There as the mother sits all day,
Robert is singing with all his might:
Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Nice good wife, that never goes out,
Keeping house while I frolic about.
Chee, chee, chee.

Soon as the little ones chip the shell,
Six wide mouths are open for food;
Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well,
Gathering seeds for the hungry brood.
Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
This new life is likely to be
Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln at length is made
Sober with work, and silent with care;
Off is his holiday garment laid,
Half forgotten that merry air:
Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Nobody knows but my mate and I
Where our nest and our nestlings lie.
Chee, chee, chee.

Summer wanes; the children are grown;
Fun and frolic no more he knows;
Robert of Lincoln’s a humdrum crone;
Off he flies, and we sing as he goes :
“Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
When you can pipe that merry old strain,
Robert of Lincoln, come back again.
Chee, chee, chee.

– William Cullen Bryant

Bryant’s poem draws a parallel between the Bobolink’s behavioral changes over a breeding season and a human who is burdened with work and worry as they age. But the poem is essentially fanciful, and its goal is mainly to describe these seasonal arcs with flowery language. Still, it’s a rare poem for weaving in a significant amount of natural history.

One could say that Dickinson’s and Bryant’s poems have different goals. Dickinson uses the Bobolink as a device to illustrate the experience of finding joy and religion in nature; she ascribes human qualities to a bird to tell us something about ourselves. Bryant’s poem ascribes human qualities to a bird, but more to illustrate points about the bird itself.

Which poem do you prefer? Do you know of any contemporary poems about Bobolinks—or maybe have written one yourself? Share with us below in the comments!

You can also learn more about (currently-living) Bobolinks and how to protect them at Mass Audubon’s Bobolink Project website.

Tips For August Nighthawk-Spotting

Posted on August 8, 2018 by William Freedberg

Aerobats. Daredevils. Show-offs. The bounding, athletic flight the Common Nighthawk makes for an impressive spectacle in late summer twilight, when groups of these birds swoop to catch insects in midflight.

In the last two weeks of August into early September, these birds power across Massachusetts on hooked, falconlike wings. Nighthawks pause during migration to gather and feed near the edges of open fields, making them easy to observe on their way South.

Two Common Nighthawks streak through the sunset light in Cambridge, MA. Composite image by Will Freedberg.

Nighthawks are totally unrelated to hawks, a group with which they share very little. As members of the nightjar family, nighthawks look similar to the closely-related Whip-poor-will when perched on the ground. In the air, they appear totally unique, agilely swooping and diving in continuous flight.

While springtime brings modest numbers of nighthawks to New England, they show up in much greater numbers on their southbound migration. Nighthawks feed on flying ants, which hatch here en masse in late summer, to fatten up before making the long trip to South America. In spring, when insects are scarce, most nighthawks take a more direct route around Massachusetts to their breeding grounds.

Don’t miss the three-week window for seeing migrating nighthawks this year! Here are some tips for finding them.

Find a Field

Just before sunset, nighthawks often emerge around grasslands and big fields. Near Boston, nighthawk hotspots include Millennium Park in West Roxbury, Rock Meadow in Belmont, and Heard Conservation Land in Wayland. In the rest of the state, any open hilltop or good vantage point near a river will do!

Follow the Rivers

Nighthawks use river valleys to navigate. While any open field is apt to produce a nighthawk sighting at dusk in late August, rivers running North-South tend to concentrate nighthawks in impressive numbers. In the Connecticut River Valley, this can mean over a thousand birds streaming by over the course of the evening—although such a spectacle doesn’t happen every year.

Join a Program

Mass Audubon sanctuaries host nighthawk searches in every part of the state! Here are a few that are coming up:

Connecticut River Valley
August 22, 2018

Nighthawks and Chimney Swifts at Arcadia Wildlife Sanctuary

This program will begin with an indoor presentation about each bird before heading out to search the sky for nighthawks and swifts.

Western Massachusetts
August 24, 2018

Evening Nighthawk Watch at Canoe Meadows

Search the evening sky for migrating nighthawks at Canoe Meadows. With luck, you’ll be able to observe these beautiful aerial acrobats catching insects on the wing. This event is free.

Worcester Area
August 28, 2018:

Migration of the Common Nighthawk in Millbury

Learn about nighthawk adaptations, ecology, and how to look for feeding behavior, while witnessing their migration flight.

Boston Area
September 5, 2018:

Sudbury River Nighthawks with Drumlin Farm

Open vistas along the Sudbury River offer perfect vantage points from which to scan the sky for nighthawks. The group will explore the marsh, grassland and orchards for other fall migrants.

Conservation Success Stories: The Osprey

Posted on August 1, 2018 by William Freedberg

Ospreys are on the rebound after a troubled past. Despite a history of pesticide poisoning, persecution, and population declines, Ospreys have returned as one of the most abundant raptors of the coast. Today, the Osprey’s story stands as a testimony to the power of scientifically-informed environmental activism.

DDT: A Silent Threat

Osprey numbers crashed dramatically following the widespread use of DDT, a pesticide deployed across America in the 1940s. While previous decades saw Ospreys hunted as “pests” and their wetland habitats drained for development, the introduction of DDT all but rang the death knell for the entire US Osprey population.

Nobody realized it at the time, but DDT builds up in animals’ body tissue, and persists in the environment years after being sprayed on farm fields. This spelled trouble for birds of prey: while DDT spraying rarely poisons adult birds to death, it destroys the structure of raptors’ eggshells, preventing them from reproducing.

As a result, Ospreys declined by over 90% between 1950 and 1970. When the now-famous environmentalist Rachel Carson finally named DDT as the culprit in her book Silent Spring, the discovery ignited a movement. A coalition of the National and Massachusetts Audubon societies, as well as local land trusts and nationwide advocacy groups, intervened on behalf of all species threatened by DDT. They sued the Environmental Protection Agency to ban the pesticide—and won.

A few decades later, Ospreys are almost back to their pre-DDT abundance.

A Place To Nest

The DDT ban eliminated a significant threat to Ospreys, but the bird didn’t immediately bounce back. Even in places with clean water and plenty of fish, Osprey numbers are naturally limited by the number of appropriate nest sites. They normally require a tall, dead tree at the edge of a marsh, but lacking standing trees in the open, they settle for utility poles or other problematic locations.

Artificial nest platforms are one solution. In addition to keeping Osprey nests away from telephone wires and buildings, nest platforms increase the number of Ospreys any wetland can support. With wetland edge habitats constantly losing ground to development, it’s critical to maximize the number of Osprey nesting in appropriate wetlands.

Mass Audubon Continues To Support Ospreys

Mass Audubon’s South Coast Osprey Project maintains about 100 Osprey nest platforms. The project also monitors and records data on the Osprey population, including banding and tagging several birds, and tracking their movements. The data never fails to yield exciting results— whether demonstrating Ospreys’ reliance on the spring herring migration for food, or revealing variability in Ospreys’ choice of wintering grounds (South Shore birds end up in places as far away from one another as Cuba and Bolivia).

If you love Ospreys as much as we do, consider sponsoring a nest platform!

The Ten Craziest Massachusetts Bird Noises

Posted on July 23, 2018 by William Freedberg

If you’ve never heard a male Snowy Egret nasally bubble away at a rival, well, you are in for a treat.

Using Xeno-canto, an online library of bird sounds to which anyone can contribute, we’ve chased down the strangest recordings of species native to Massachusetts. Hit the play button in the clips below to check them out!

In the first half of this post, we’ll run through some strange bird noises that are easy to go out and hear for yourself.

We’ll review even weirder noises in the second half, but ones that are hard or impossible to experience in Massachusetts. This second section is devoted to noises that migratory birds make on their breeding grounds far to the north, or in other parts of their range.

Part 1: Sounds You Can Hear in Massachusetts

1. American Bittern:

Distant relatives of herons, bitterns make a booming, gulping noise while pumping their necks up and down, giving them the nickname “thunder-pumper.” Hit the play button in this clip and turn up the bass!

An American Bittern stands tall among marsh grasses. Photo (c) William Freedberg

2. Bobolink:

A once-common sound of farm fields and grasslands, the Bobolink’s song incongruously brings to mind R2-D2 from Star Wars. These grassland birds abounded during the height of low-impact agriculture in New England, but farmland loss, development, intensive harvesting and pesticide use have reduced their numbers dramatically. With recent conservation programs like the Bobolink Project, which pays farmers directly to protect grassland birds, this species’ future is looking a little brighter.

3. Veery:

Veeries are drab, russet-colored thrushes with an outsized voice. They can produce several clear tones at once, and almost sound like they are harmonizing with themselves. While uncommon near developed areas, this birds are one of the most numerous summer birds of deep forest far from the coast.

4. Barred Owl:

Owls don’t just hoot—they also can yelp, screech, and shriek. This Barred Owl transitions from a high-pitched wail (which may be a regionalism or an alarm call) into its lower and more commonly-heard “who-cooks-for-you-all.”

5. Common Loon:

Perhaps the most iconic sound on this list, the wail of the Common Loon is practically synonymous with the wilderness of northern New England (although they also breed in central Massachusetts). In this recording, listen for their yodels at the beginning, a loud wail at 0:31, and keening starting at 0:09 and 0:58.

Part 2: Sounds Massachusetts Birds Make Elsewhere

6. Snowy Egret:

This might be the weirdest one on the list. Graceful Snowy Egrets are common in New England saltmarshes, but rarely vocalize away from rookeries. At rookeries, however, they’re known for a cartoon character-like and downright hilarious.

A Snowy Egret patrolling the shallows for prey. Photo (c) William Freedberg

7. Pectoral Sandpiper:

Pectoral Sandpipers and many other species of shorebirds seem like much different animals on their breeding grounds than on the east coast during migration: they become quite fearless and territorial, their plumage takes on dramatic patterns, and they sing with a surprising variety of chortles, whoops and whistles. This Pectoral Sandpiper’s song sort of sounds like… somebody blowing bubbles?

8. Turkey Vulture:

Turkey Vultures almost never vocalize. When they do, all that comes out is a raspy, sizzling hiss, like adding water to a hot pan.

9. Atlantic Puffin:

While puffins are uncommon winter visitors to the waters off MA, you can easily hear their characteristic grumbles on breeding colonies in Maine.

10: Great Shearwater:

These pelagic, albatross-like birds are frequently encountered on whale watches and offshore boat trips in Massachusetts waters. While silent at sea, they’re… really quite vocal on breeding colonies, where they sound like rubber chickens brought to life.

A Great Shearwater, true to its name, glides tight to the waves. Photo (c) William Freedberg

These are just our picks for the strangest noises made by local birds… but there are so many other options, it’s hard to winnow them down to just a few!

What would make your top 10? Let us know in the comments!