Ciblek Mania

OK the bleariness of the Ohio winter has settled in upon us and signs of spring, well, there are none! Sigh.

There's one specific sign that I look for each spring—one that lets me know that the ambient daytime temperatures are warm enough for there to be airborne insects. The air above our southeastern Ohio woods is peppered with gnats...

It's the return of the blue-gray gnatcatchers! They return in spring sometime in early April, usually around the 5th. Once they're back, they are with us until early October, giving away their presence with their high-pitched wheezing calls.

What's facing us now here in Ohio is about six months of gray skies and icky weather. Funny that a bird as gray as our winter skies can be such a harbinger of the joys and colors and music of spring.

I. Can't. Wait!

Dear Readers:

My sincere apologies for the sparse and irregular posts of late. After my first Guyana post last Monday I had the very best of intentions last week about sharing some more from that trip but then life revved up into krazy-train mode. I blinked and it's another Monday!

I will try to do better this week. I hope you'll stick with me (I do appreciate your patience).

In other news the blue-gray gnatcatchers got in this morning on the farm. I heard my first brown thrasher of the spring on Sunday, and the eastern meadowlarks were battling it out over the meadow this morning. We watched them from the tower where we'd run hoping to identify three mystery ducks that flew over the hills to the west of us. No joy on the ducks, but the woods showed us its flimsy spring garments—the tree buds and blossoms exhibiting the most wishful thinking possible. We'll see if leaping into spring so soon is warranted or even advisable. I fear winter may yet have a face slap or two in its arsenal.

Man, you go away for a fortnight, and while you're gone, all the spring birds start arriving! Just in at the farm this week: fox sparrow, chipping sparrow, tree swallow...



Red-winged blackbirds, common grackles, and brown-headed cowbirds all got in a week or so ago. With these first two waves of arrivals, I'm left to wonder: can the blue-gray gnatsnatchers be far behind?

On of the birds whose arrival I note each year as a solid sign of spring is the blue-gray gnatcatcher. Male gnatties come back well before the leaves are out on most trees—and just after the male red-winged blackbirds have started conk-a-reeing in the cattails. How the gnatsters find anything to eat I'll never know, but they must.

I often hear this species before I see it. It has a high-pitched, sibilant call that sounds more like an angry mosquito than a territorial bird. Hearing the gnatcatcher's call I scan the treetops, hoping for a sign of movement—these are very active birds. But the gnatsnatcher's gray-on-gray plumage is a perfect match to the still-leaden winter skies, and I often miss seeing this tiny bug-eater of the treetops.

Gnatcatchers ARE very susceptible to spishing, however. And, as you can see from this series of photos, their curiosity sometimes brings them quite close to the spisher. Try it for yourself.

I'm glad that the gnatties come back early. Even though they don't add much color to the woods as some later-arriving migrants do, they add sound and activity and life, where everything else seems dormant, still slumbering under winter's sedation.