Grab some binocs the next time you head out for a hike or walk—the birds are on the move. In spring and early summer, thousands of birds hit the skies for their biannual migration.
The Willamette Valley is part of the Pacific Flyway—a superhighway for bird migration. Birds travel from as far south as Patagonia, making their way north toward Alaska. For those that live, work, or play en route, viewing these birds is a delight of the season.
Josée Rousseau—an ecologist at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology —takes it a step further by tracking bird migration and the different habitats birds occupy. Ornithologist extraordinaire, I met Josée at Luckiamute Landing State Natural Area for a hike and interview. I figured, if anyone knows where the birds are at, it would be Josée.
Binoculars in hand, Josée and I met at the park entry road to begin our hike. It had been cool, breezy, and overcast and moisture hung in the air—not ideal conditions for looking for birds, but we remained optimistic as we started down the wide path. Besides, I had seen a group of turkey vultures on the road on the way in feeding on an animal carcass—was this a sign of good things to come or some bad juju?
Seeing Birds
However, almost immediately, we started seeing and hearing birds—first, a Song Sparrow trilling in the distance. Then moments later we spotted a bushtit nest hanging in the trees.
“The cool thing about them [bushtit],” Josée smiled, “is they are sort of a cooperative species.”
She explained how juvenile birds from a pair’s first clutch will sometimes “hang around” to help with a second clutch—creating these large family units. You don’t generally see Bushtit alone for this reason. Rather, these stout little gray birds flit about in energetic flocks.
“Another cool thing,” Josée added, “the male and female have different colored eyes. The males and the young have black eyes and the adult females’ eyes are yellowish.”
A Closer Look
We soon reached a junction where the road ended at a parking lot and the trail began. We headed right, following a line of trees and shrubs, including holly-leaved Oregon Grape.
I asked Josée to share a bit about her background, and as if one cue—an American Robin, with its distinct song, made an appearance perched in some nearby trees.
“Robin was the bird that got me into birds,” Josée explained. “I study birds, I love birds, “but I didn’t always like birds.”
She explained how she needed someone to teach her “to see birds” before she could appreciate them. To stop and look at birds—to look at their plumage, shape, and size, for example.
And for Josée, as commonplace as they are, the American Robin was the first bird she took the time to really observe and appreciate.
Robin sent out the occasional twittering song as we talked before it flew back among the trees.
As we continued down the muddy trail, heading toward the Willamette, Josée told me how she started her research studying urban birds in Montreal.
“Birds are amazing creatures with diverse habits and habitats,” said Josée. Even in a city environment, there are resources available that attract birds.
Just then a couple of small birds caught our attention as they danced among the branches of a small broadleaf tree along the forest edge. Josée grabbed her binocs.
At least one was a Yellow-rumped Warbler with black, white, and yellow plumage. A larger bird for a warbler, it reminded me of a chickadee in size. The others flew off before they could be identified.
Big Bird Data
Josée and I flew on down the trail as well, heading into the denser woods.
As we walked, Josée told me about her move to the west coast and Ph.D. work studying large-scale patterns in bird distribution and habitat.
She explained how her research looked at both the distribution of bird species across North America, as well as the habitats that each species selected in different regions and throughout its life cycle.
“I found there were actually differences!” exclaimed Josée—particularly when comparing across regions, but even across the lifecycle Josée found slight differences in habitat use.
Josée’s research relied heavily on large data sets, including banding data, breeding surveys, and ebird—a citizen science program.
“It allowed me to use big data to ask large-scale questions,” she explained. “It involved a lot of computer work,” she laughed.
Bird Banding
However, there is one way that Josée still gets out among the birds. She and her colleague, Joan Hagar, have a bird banding station set up in the park.
Bird banding is the process of temporarily capturing birds, usually with a mist net, so that scientists and volunteers can gather data on the birds.
“When you capture a bird, you can determine their age and sex; you can determine their health…” Josée explained, “You are getting information about survival and reproduction.”
All this information can then be used to better understand changes in bird populations.
Other tools, like ebird or other more general surveys, can tell you some information about abundance, but they can’t tell you why the abundance of a bird changes.
“They are complementary tools,” according to Josée. We need a variety of data sets to answer a variety of questions.
Restoring the Floodplain
As we rounded a bend in the trail, the Willamette River came into view through the trees. A few user trails led closer to its edge for a better view. We stuck to the main trail and entered a dense, shady conifer forest.
“This site is cool because it is along the Willamette River,” Josée said, “It is actually at the confluence of three rivers—the Luckiamute, the Santiam, and the Willamette.”
Luckiamute Landing State Natural Area has one of the largest remaining natural floodplain forests, according to Josée. Though previously cleared for agriculture, much of the site has since been restored to a more natural state through a succession of plantings.
“I think the first planting was around 2013,” said Josée. “They planted the whole west section. The last section, the middle part, was planted just last winter.”
In fact, one of the main purposes of the bird banding project is to see if the restoration is working.
“And is the restoration working?” I asked.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Josée responded. “We have five years of data to support it.”
Superlative Birds
We continued along the wide path, scrubby conifers surrounding us on both sides and the river hidden to our right, hoping to spot some birds among the trees.
I asked Josée what birds she had seen coming through her bird banding station at Luckiamute. Were there any that are especially common? Any rare or unique birds?
“Fifty-nine species,” Josée responded. That is the minimum number of songbird species that visit Luckiamute at some point during the year—some as migrants or breeders, others as year-round resident species.
“The most common is definitely the Swainson’s Thrush,” Josée continued. “They arrive in May and stay until September.”
Swainson’s Thrush is in the same family as the American Robin and has “amazing vocals,” according to Josée. However, they are not talkative birds after the breeding season and often go unnoticed for that reason.
So how does she know they are here? Mist nets of course! Another benefit of bird banding stations.
There were two birds that Josée said fit under the “whoa!” category.
First, she showed me a picture of a gorgeous, fluffy juvenile Saw-whet Owl. Those big yellow eyes! It was a surprise to catch in the net, as they hadn’t heard one here before.
Second, is the Red-eyed Vireo. A lovely little bird with an olive-colored complexion and red eyes as an adult.
“Not a species that is abundant in Oregon,” Josée explained, “we have caught maybe three to four.”
“They breed here in the gallery forest north,” she went on, “but during post-breeding, they come down into the shrubby area where there are berries, and that is when we catch them.”
Coniferous
We were nearing the end of the shaded coniferous forest. We passed what looked to me like a woodrat’s nest up in a tree and several piles of woody debris.
“They have flooding here,” Josée explained.
Before we exited the habitat, I asked Josée what birds might frequent the area we were walking in. What sort of birds like conifer forests like this?
Josée rattled off a few species—”chickadees, kinglets, Steller’s jay, a few species like that.”
Conifer forests provide shelter for birds but do not have as abundant food resources.
“Very soon we will get into the shrubs,” said Josée. “They have more birds because they have more insects. And they tend to have flowers and berries which attract fruit-eating birds.”
Gallery of the Giants
And she was right, soon we rounded a bend and soon we were face to face with a tall deciduous forest and a trail bordered by shrubs.
A sign offered some details about the forest and restoration process—which indeed started in 2013. We stopped at the sign for a moment and looked out on the gallery of what was mostly large Black Cottonwood with many Bigleaf trees in front of us.
I asked Josée what she thought the benefit of this habitat was to birds.
“Big trees,” she began, “There is more vertical habitat for one thing.”
She also mentioned the formation of snags in older forests which brings in woodpeckers, which create cavities that can be used by a variety of cavity-nesting birds.
“There is a lot of complexity in an older forest that you don’t get in a younger one. By having that vertical structure, these older trees, by having snags and dead wood—this adds a variety of habitats and resources that more species because they all use a different part of it,” explained Josée.”
Water Ways
Of course, different birds need different habitats. Many require old-growth forests, but others need young forests, grasslands, or some other habitat type.
“There is no good or bad habitat,” Josée reminded me. “Even cities aren’t necessarily bad habitats because there are some species that thrive in them.”
I asked Josée if there was any special benefit of being near water.
“We don’t have a lot of rain from June to September and birds rely on fruits and nuts to fatten up in the fall,” explained Josée. “So, these riparian corridors are very important for these birds to find food and be able to survive migration, at least for the west coast.”
Shrubby
We continued following a corridor of planted deciduous trees and shrubs—part of the restoration project.
Among the shrubs were osoberry, common snowberry, and red-flowering currant—all of which can provide food resources for different bird species.
“What is great about Luckiamute is they restored habitat by planting native species of plants, which is amazing to me,” Josée shared, “AND to the birds,” she added with a smile.
To better understand how birds are using these flowering plants as resources, Josée told me how they are providing data to a research project led by Carolyn Coyle, through sampling the beak of warblers they net for pollen. Each sample is tested to identify plant species the warblers visited.
Preliminary pollen testing last year showed promising results.
“Warblers used these flowers,” said Josée, “and other flowers in the park.”
The next phase of the project is to try and understand why.
Early Seral Station
Josée pulled off to the side of the trail toward a tree tied with bright pink flagging.
“See that little flag,” she proclaimed, “We have a bird banding net right here.”
As she headed into the brush, Josée explained the components of a banding station. Here is the gist–each station has about 10 12-meter-long nets that stand 2 meters high. The nets are put up during a collection day and checked frequently. Birds caught in the net are carried to a banding location where a federal Bird Banding Lab tag with a unique number is attached to their leg.
“And we are going to get age, sex, species of course, look at weight, wing length, and other measurements such as breeding condition, and release it,” said Josée.
We were standing at net 10—one of a total of 30 set up around the park. Net 10 is considered an early seral habitat station, though the forest was a lot thicker since last she visited—it had since been thinned.
Reasons
“Surveying these birds is not part of my regular job,” she explained but is done on a volunteer basis for three main reasons.
Besides, helping provide feedback on the restoration efforts (reason number one), the bird banding station offers young biologists training in the safe handling of birds and how to take accurate measurements.
And thirdly, “We are doing some research,” said Josée. “We are studying this area as a migration corridor.”
Migratory Path
“Do most birds fly in riparian corridors during migration?” I asked.
“We suspect that they do and that is what we are trying to find out,” Josée replied.
Joan Hagar, Josee’s colleague, did some surveys in 2014 and found some evidence to suggest birds were following the Willamette during migration. Essentially, she found the same birds visiting another banding station along the route, suggesting they were sticking to the water.
“So, another tool we are starting to take advantage of is MOTUS,” said Josée.
MOTUS is an international collaboration network that uses radio telemetry to track the movement of a variety of species including birds. Each bird is outfitted with a radio transmitter. Josée described it as looking like “a little backpack.” Then when a bird flies by a MOTUS station, the bird’s signal is picked up and recorded with a time stamp.
“Ankeny [Wildlife Refuge] just got a MOTUS station,” said Josée. Both Joan and she are hoping to see more come online along the Willamette.
Return to Sender
“Do you capture some of the same birds?” I questioned.
“We have caught the same Swanson’s thrush 3-4 years in a row in the same net!” was Josée’s enthusiastic response.
She explained how Swanson’s thrush migrate as far south as Bolivia and Argentina, only to return to the exact same spot they began—so exactly that they end up caught in the same mist net.
“They have migrated thousands of miles,” she was bubbling over with energy. “Image you were flying to Argentina every year!”
I’m impressed.
Indicators
By now the trail opened with a field to the left. We were almost back to our loop and the sky was starting to darken. I asked Joséee about her current research as we walked the final leg back to the loop junction.
“I’m a postdoc for the Cornell Lab of Ornithology,” said Josée. “And my project, which I think is really cool, is to see if we can use birds as an indicator of pollinators.”
As Josée explained, pollinators are declining at alarming rates, and at the same time, we have limited data on pollinators, so the extent of the problem is hard to nail down.
Josée’s project is designed to take advantage of the extensive data we have on birds to see if it correlates with the presence of native bee species.
“I am using eBird,” said Josée, “and publicly available bee data sets. I am using locations with both bird and bee data. There are only a few locations, maybe up to 4,000 in the eastern half of the U.S.”
The research is based on the premise that bees and some bird species use similar habitats and environments and are affected by similar land management practices.
“So, we can see if whenever some bird species are abundant, we have more bee species,” she explained.
Ultimately, Josée hopes that by using birds as indicators of bee richness, they can guide land management practices to improve bee conservation.
Spring Showers
Then, (almost suddenly) the leaves rustled, and the grey ominous clouds shifted in the sky, letting out a soft but thorough downpour.
Despite the change in weather, Josée heard a call out in the field next to us—a white-crowned sparrow. I could see it shifting in the grasses, a dark silhouette against an equally dreary backdrop.
Josée handed me her binoculars to see if I could get a better look, but the rain had dampened the eyepieces. It was like looking through a rain-soaked windshield with no wipers.
Grassland species
“What species would like this area?” I asked, as we moved swiftly back to the junction and road we walked up at the start of the hike.
As usual, Josée had an answer—“White-crowned Sparrow, Common Yellowthroat, Robins…”All of these birds use these open habitats.
However, the area was already in the process of change. If you looked more closely, small saplings were planted among the grasses that dominated the field.
“They planted last winter,” she said. “And as these little trees are growing, we are hoping to add nets here and monitor their impact on bird communities.”
Energy
We hurried our way back to the cars. The rain, only letting up a little. Not an ideal situation for looking for birds. They too were probably seeking shelter.
Back at the cars, I thanked Josée for meeting with me, but I couldn’t help but comment on her relentless energy. She was not shy about acknowledging that she is a go-getter.
It was fun talking to Josée. Like the birds she studies, she had figured out a way to successfully navigate through a career in science—and with gusto!
I have no doubt she could make the thousands of miles-long journey her birds take if she needed to.
Josée is a postdoctoral fellow at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology where she is studying the potential role of birds as indicators of pollinators.
