An ovenbird (Seiurus aurocapilla) is a good one for a beginning birder. They nest in the Washington, DC, area, and during spring and fall, migrating birds show up in great numbers on the way to their nesting grounds as far north as British Columbia (spring) and their wintering grounds anywhere from South America east to the Caribbean islands (fall).
A quick glance might make you think you’re looking at a sparrow, but give it a closer look and you’ll see everything that makes this bird a favorite of even the most experienced birders. It’s a color of brown that veers toward olive green, and on the top of its head are two black stripes encompassing an orange stripe.
Now, with most migratory warblers, you’d be pretty lucky to see the tops of their heads without trying pretty hard, because they hang out in the tops of trees. But ovenbirds much prefer walking on the forest floor to flying, so when you see them, you’re almost always looking down. That’s where they’re foraging for insects that live under dead leaves.
They’re camouflaged so well that even if you’re looking for one, you usually won’t see it until you accidentally scare it up so it flies to a branch. But if you see it land, it rarely moves from that spot until some time has passed, so you can get a good look at the rest of its markings: a bright white breast with small dark spots, and a white ring around its eye that makes it look perpetually surprised.
I’m going to go ahead and tell you my favorite thing about ovenbirds. These birds have a very specific strutting kind of walk that can’t help but remind you of a chicken. Breast puffed out, head staying stationary while each step sort of glides its body along. It’s one of those “beautiful or hilarious?” birds that’s just fun to watch.
Another aspect that makes ovenbirds easy to recognize in the spring and summer is that the males have a very loud song that rings through the woods: “teacher teacher teaCher teaCher teaCHER teaCHER!” Once you learn to identify it, you’ll hear it everywhere.
Why on earth is it called an ovenbird?
It’s because of the bird’s nesting habits. They build a nest out of dead leaves and bark on the forest floor (or even mulch in a suburb if the habitat is right). Somebody thought the nest looked like a little oven. (And might this serve as a gentle reminder that pups should not be allowed to run through the woods with abandon.) They also love mulch. During migration they’ll show up anyplace in a city that has even a tiny outdoor space and hang out for the day.
Learn more about ovenbirds, see their chicken-walk, and hear their song at https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Ovenbird/id.
I’m telling you about ovenbirds because I want to tell you about another bird. This week, some of my buddies reported a Connecticut warbler (Oporornis agilis) that had been around all day. I’d never seen one because they hate being seen, so I went to look for it. There were several people there – too many, I thought – and we stood around appropriately distanced for the COVID-19 pandemic. A few people gave up and left, and the rest of us were still and quiet for several minutes. And just after 6:00 p.m., there it was. It hopped up out of the dense vegetation onto the path right where someone had been standing. It was so close to me that my binoculars wouldn’t have done any good.
Since I’d never seen a Connecticut warbler, I had studied it in the field guide and online before going out so I’d know what to look for. The bird was in the shade, but I could see that it fit the bill: a dark olive green on top, yellowish underneath. This young bird didn’t have the very distinct line between its “hood” and its mustard-yellow belly, but the white ring around its eye made it unmistakable. And that’s where my knowledge gleaned from the bird book ended.
This bird landed and immediately started walking. I couldn’t believe it: it strutted just like an ovenbird! There’s no other bird that does that. It strutted for a moment before disappearing back into the grass. It was a great encounter with a great bird, and after a little celebrating with everyone else, I left so maybe someone else could see it.
I came home to annotate my bird book with this new life bird. I still use the 2000 edition of Sibley Guide to Birds (sorry, I’ve never bought the 2014 edition because I’m used to this one!). There on page 450 were the words: “walks like Ovenbird.” I had missed that, but then I observed the behavior for myself in the field. I laughed and circled it, then I wrote the date: 9/21/2020.
You can learn more about Connecticut warblers here https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Connecticut_Warbler/id.
This little encounter – as well as everything I’ve told you about ovenbirds – teaches an important lesson. A bird is not a picture in a book or a photo in an app, even though those are important tools for learning. It has so many more dimensions: behavior, habitat, song, call, food source, that make it what it is. Even the best video cannot capture a bird’s essence because of how important its environment is, from the vegetation (or lack thereof) that it prefers to how loud or soft its song is in relation to other birds, how the sound falls away immediately or echoes through the woods. Observing real birds in their real habitats is the only way to learn who they are. And the pandemic has brought new birdwatchers out in droves. I love encountering people who are new to it and sharing the joy, surprise, serendipity, awe that I find in my everyday encounters with birds.
Even if my life bird hadn’t shown up that day, it was already a good day. I had watched a daddy goldfinch feeding his baby, on a low branch, backlit by the setting sun, with one little ray hitting the saliva they were exchanging as he seemed to be having trouble getting the food into the baby’s beak. Birds are a gift that keep giving. You just have to stop and look.
