Weather patterns in the weeks leading up to mid November in Ontario (and more generally northeastern North America) were very favourable for pushing in vagrants from the South and Southwest. Despite this, I don’t think even the most meteorologically-inclined birders could have anticipated the explosion of rarities that resulted.
It started with a Tropical Kingbird found by Tony Ward in Algoma on November 7. This species does have a pattern of vagrancy and, if I’m not mistaken, represents the third definitive record for Ontario (there are a couple of Tropical/Couch's records). There was a short-lived debate over what species of Tyrannus kingbird it was (the most similar member of the genus being the less likely Couch’s kingbird, which has no confirmed records for the province); but the longer, straighter bill and the few brief but unique vocalizations observers heard ruled out other possibilities. I had always heard about how notoriously difficult Tropical was to tell apart from Couch’s, but when I had the opportunity to study lots of both species in Texas last winter, I found that their distinct bill shapes made their identification fairly straightforward. I decided that a third record for Ontario was worth making the seven-hour-plus trip to Thessalon, should the bird have stuck around until my next free day, which wasn’t until November 13, but, as is the case with a lot of vagrant flycatchers, the Tropical Kingbird was a “one day wonder”.
The very next day, however, an even rarer species showed up in the province. Mega number two was a Bean Goose first seen on the Québec side of the Ottawa River; it soon crossed into Ontario east of Ottawa and continued to be seen among congregations of other geese until the twelfth, so I decided to try for it on the thirteenth.
The day before I went up for the goose, however, a less rare, but, in my opinion, more exciting bird showed up. I got wind of a Barn Owl that was found roosting in Presqu’ile Provincial Park. No sooner did I hear about this highly coveted Ontario bird than I was out the door and on the road. After DEFINITELY OBSERVING ALL SPEED LAWS, I arrived at the stakeout. The views of the Barn Owl were not ideal, but I can’t complain—a Barn Owl is a Barn Owl! This was the eleventh and final addition I needed to complete the gauntlet of annual Ontario owls for 2020! The bird had been located earlier that morning after the finders were tipped off by some angry chickadees and a Hairy Woodpecker that were not being shy about voicing their displeasure. Thankfully, the owl had settled in high up and a little ways off the trail, with a dense tangle of branches between it and the vantage point that was organized by local birders, so it did not appear to be particularly disturbed. It seemed to be sleeping the entire time I was there, but it was tough to tell. What Ontario’s Barn Owls do in the winter is a bit of a mystery, so I am not sure if the birds from the Kingston area population, of which this bird is assumed to be a part, migrate or overwinter. If this bird is not a migrant, I would be concerned by the fact that it was found roosting on a spit of land on the north shore of Lake Ontario. If it is a migrant, however, this would not be unexpected, though I’m not sure when Barn Owls generally leave for the winter. There was apparently some talk of getting the bird to a rehabber, as some people who got better views of it felt it looked unhealthy, but it disappeared at around 5:00 PM making the debate a moot point. Ontario lifer #329, year bird #306.
I was already quite a ways east, but circumstances demanded that I drive back to Hamilton in the evening and turn tail and go even further east the next morning to chase the goose. After a nourishing two hours of sleep, I set out at 1:30 AM in order to make it to Ottawa at first light. The goose had been seen four out of the last five days, but it was not at all reliable, popping up in different spots without following a distinct pattern. This is why I felt I must take full advantage of every hour of daylight in order to maximize the chances of seeing the bird. Geese in the area spend their nights on the river or inland bodies of water, fly to the fields in the AM to feed, go back to the water around 10:30, return to the fields to feed in the early evening, and then go back to the water before dark to overnight. With this in mind, the Giroux Ponds were my first stop and, after scanning the floating geese with no luck and desperately trying to pick out an anomaly from the thousands of distant geese (many of which were Snow Geese) streaming out of the inaccessible back pond, I headed to the nearby fields to scope the large congregations of feeding geese. The only interesting birds I had to show for the four hours of freezing my fingers off in the brutal, windy conditions were a couple Cackling Geese. Other birders got fleeting glimpses of a Barnacle Goose that had been in the area for a while, but, despite being a heck of a rarity, I had little to no drive to make any real effort to see it, as I already had it for the year and its singularity paled in comparison to that of the elusive Bean Goose. Once the geese began picking up and flying toward their water roosts, I decided to get as close to the previously mentioned, inaccessible Giroux pond as I could and examine the flocks of geese flying in. As the fly ins (and, with them, my hope) began to dwindle, my corporal urges got the better of me and I turned toward the city to get a bite to eat (not before fruitlessly combing through a couple thousand geese at some inland ponds).
No sooner did I get to Ottawa’s main strip than Ken Burrell sent a message to the Discord rare bird alert saying that the Bean Goose was in the Nolan Quarry. I zipped over to the quarry with a zeal comparable to my Barn Owl chase the day before and was rewarded by excellent scope views of the Bean Goose about thirty minutes before it flew away. Other goodies—Ross’s Goose and a probable Snow Goose x Canada Goose hybrid—made the taste of success (and the taste of the hard earned dinner that followed!) that much sweeter. Bean Goose was recently split into two species, Tundra Bean and Taiga Bean. The jury’s still out on the Ottawa bird, but most birders, including some experts from Asia and northeastern Europe who are familiar with the species, agree that the bird looks better for the slightly more expected Tundra Bean Goose (both are rarities in the ABA). I will not weigh in on the subject of identification here, as I am entirely unqualified to make an ID call between these two species. Either way, it’s an Ontario first! Ontario lifer #330, year bird #307.
I got back to Hamilton at around 1:00 AM and did the only sensible thing there was to do: drive to my morning flight patch near Port Burwell (see previous blog post) and sleep in my car until dawn. The morning flight the next day (November 14) was not great, but Nathan Hood and I did pick up a couple late Barn Swallows and some Red Crossbills.
I then headed up to Algoma to go for the Black-headed Grosbeak that was discovered the day before coming to a feeder west of Sault-Sainte-Marie. By gulping down more coffee than one person should drink in a lifetime and blasting hyperpop and industrial trap for the duration of the eight hour trip up, I rolled into the Soo after nightfall in one piece. I spent the night there and showed up at the stakeout at around 8:00 the next morning. The feeders the bird was coming to boasted a large flock of Evening Grosbeaks, one Pine Grosbeak, Common Redpolls, a Northern Cardinal (it’s an irruption year in the North for them), and an assortment of other wholesome feeder species. Many thanks to the lovely homeowners who were very excited for me to see the grosbeak. It eventually showed up and gave us some killer looks, though crummy weather prevented a really decent shot of the bird. Ontario lifer #331, year bird #308.
After chillin’ with the grosbeak and its gracious hosts for a little bit, I gladly accepted the coffee I was offered and headed back toward Hamilton. I stopped briefly and picked up four Snow Buntings hopping along a Lake Superior beach as well as another Northern Cardinal in the lakeside veg. I had to resist the urge to stop at the hundreds of tantalizing patches of habitat along my route home. With such a diversity of rich, unique habitat, I am not surprised by the consistency with which far northwestern trips conducted by birding legends like Mark Jennings and Alan Wormington in the Fall and late spring turned up excellent crops of vagrants.
When I got home that night, I learned that Janet Lafond had posted a photo that she had taken on November 13 of what turned out to be a Variegated Flycatcher on the Ontario Birds Facebook group. This is a capital M MEGA! Not that the grosbeak and Bean Goose weren’t great birds, but it is entirely stupendous that this bird is here. Variegated Flycatchers are vagrants anywhere outside of South America, let alone Ontario. That being said, this is the second record for Variegated Flycatcher in Ontario, the first being on the Toronto Islands in 1993; it cannot be denied, however, that, despite only having one record for Ontario, the Bean Goose’s rarity does not hold a candle to that of the flycatcher. Correct me if I’m wrong, but this represents the eighth record of Variegated Flycatcher in the ABA, compared to over a dozen Bean Goose records. Thankfully, this bird was in Whitby, just a little over an hour away from me. A number of other hopefuls and I arrived at the city park the next morning (November 16) where the bird had been seen, not knowing if the flycatcher was even still around. With at least a couple dozen birders there, we made pretty quick work of finding our target, which gave us excellent views. Ontario lifer #332, year bird #309.
It was without a doubt the most rarity-dense five days of birding in my life. I added four awesome species to my life list; saw four Great Lakes; met a lot of cool people; and learned a lot about birds, birding, and the limits to which I can push myself. This is hopefully a taste of what 2022 will bring. A Fall vagrant irruption would certainly do wonders for the success of my big year. Happy birding!
