A Worm-eating, a Prairie and a Prothonotary.  Any one of these warblers would be worth the trip and the mosquito-aided blood loss, but all three were reported from the same trail Wednesday morning.  Unfortunately, not one of three were reported again, but at least I was rewarded with a nice new birding haunt.

It took five passes of the driveway and another ten minutes wandering around in what was probably someone’s back yard before I finally spotted the narrow and very well concealed dirt lane that leads to the Currie Tract parking area.  It was getting late, but there were good numbers of Chestnut-sided warblers and American Redstarts, and the sumacs were filled with Indigo Buntings and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks.  As the light faded and I headed back to the car, a rather odd-looking branch just beside the trail caught my attention.  The branch and I eyed one another warily for a few minutes before, without warning, it erupted into panicked grouse-ness and buzzed off into the woods.

Having had little time to explore before sundown, I decided to return early Saturday morning for another look.  A female Pileated Woodpecker was obliging enough to let me creep about after her for awhile — enough to make any birding day.  Further on, a familiar hum alerted me to the courtship display of a male Ruby-throated Hummingbird.  He was swinging in a tight half-circle barely a beak-length from the female perched below him, emitting a buzzy dive note at the bottom of his feverish pendulum.  Quite suddenly the pair swooped down to a nearby branch, and in the time it takes to yawn the whole affair was over.  Both parted ways, perhaps to never see each other again.  Hummer relationships, like everything else hummers do, are performed at Mach speed.

My Pelee trip had whet my appetite for warblers, and I was looking forward to tracking down a few species I’d missed in the park during a long weekend on the Bruce.  Wind, rain and cold kept me cottage-bound for most of it, however, and when faced with an early morning snowfall at the end of an unproductive weekend I decided to head out anyway and take my chances.  Not surprisingly, warblers were scarce — only the ever-present American Redstarts near Hope Bay and a lone Ovenbird singing in the branches high above.  A pair of Rose-breasted Grosbeaks hung around the trail, the female gathering nesting material while the male followed at a distance and whistled his Robin-like phrases.  I kept them company for awhile.

I’ve been meaning to make this Pelee trip for years. Three days of birds, bins and what is likely the world’s highest known concentration of knee socks and Tilley hats awaited me when I arrived at noon on Tuesday. Twenty warbler species for me, including a very brief peek at a Yellow-breasted Chat, though some of the tastier rarities (such as a Kirtland’s Warbler on the West Beach trail) I missed.

My favourite bird of the trip was a gorgeous Red-headed Woodpecker who liked to hang around the Tip, flycatching alongside the Ceruleans and the Parulas high in the trees. A stunning bird, and without a doubt the best looking of the North American woodpeckers.

Three days really isn’t enough time to take in all of Pelee (particularly since the second day was cold, wet and dismal and not very good birding). Next time, I’ll plan a longer visit (though I suspect that the severity of Warbler Neck that such a trip would entail might leave me permanently crippled).