A house wren feeding its young. (Photo by David Durrant)

An invitation to spend a few days at a camp on Round Pond on the Allagash River gave us an opportunity to search for northern species of birds. We drove to Fort Kent, which is on the Maine/Canada border, and then drove about 35 miles on logging roads to our canoe put-in point.

The drive through cutover woods did not yield many, if any, birds of note. I wondered whether the chemicals the lumber companies spray to inhibit hardwood growth had anything to do with this lack of birds.

At the canoe landing we did hear a number of birds in the trees adjacent to the river and recognized common yellow-throat and yellow warbler, as well as some other calls and songs I did not recognize. In our haste to get on the river and to our camp I did not spend the time to search down the birds. We were rewarded, however, in the first five minutes of paddling when we saw a magnificent bald eagle gliding above us.

Paddling across Round Pond we looked for loons and other water birds but did not see anything. Around the camp were more common yellow-throats, yellow warblers, blue jays, and an occasional crow. One evening an osprey flew over looking for fish, and as nightfall approached we heard the mournful call of loons on the pond.

One day our guide invited me to go up river to check on a hunting cabin he maintained close to Long Pond dam. On the way up river we saw spotted sandpipers among the rocks on the edge of the river and several red-breasted mergansers. During the three hours we were on the river we sighted a total of eight bald eagles, one being the largest eagle I have seen, with a wingspan that appeared to be six or seven feet. On the way back down the river a bald eagle swooped out of the woods and glided above the river not 50 feet from us and flew up to a tall pine where we saw that he had his nest.

The most memorable sighting for me was the grey jay that arrived as we were sitting around the fire one evening. This northern species of jay rarely, if ever, makes it down to Massachusetts. The jay, unlike our common blue jay, is gray and white with a black cap. It looks like an oversize chickadee!

A couple of weeks later we headed out to the coast of Maine near New Harbor to visit another friend. This is always a good place to observe shore birds on our daily walks around Long Cove. We saw the usual assortment of herring, laughing, and black-backed gulls on the rocks and flying around the cove. The rocks at the beginning of the cove hosted cormorants with their familiar spread wings. And on close observation there were dozens of eider ducks nestled amongst the seaweed and the rocks.

A couple of terns flying in from the ocean grabbed my attention. They did not have the familiar black cap of the common tern but had a flash of black through the eye and a white head. On consulting the field guide I determined that they were Forster's terns. The other time I had seen this species was in South Carolina.

Walking back along the cove we heard and saw song sparrows, chipping sparrows, and the familiar yellow warbler. One sparrow that I had a brief look at piqued my interest because it looked a little different from the song sparrow. On checking in the field guide I thought it could have been a savannah sparrow but it did not hang around long enough for me to be sure.

Returning to the house, sitting in the screened porch, we saw a female wild turkey strut out of the tall grass onto the lawn. She was immediately followed be 10 chicks and proceeded across the lawn in a straight line all the time pecking for food until they melted into the long grass on the other side of the lawn.

I like to lie in bed in the morning and try and identify birds that I hear calling. One morning I heard a song that I was not familiar with. I went outside to try to find the source of the song but it was still too dark for me to find it. The following morning I heard the song again and waited till the sun touched the trees where the song was coming from before I went outside. After several minutes I noticed movement in the tree and found a song sparrow. This was not the bird I was looking for, as I am familiar with the song of this sparrow. After several minutes of scanning the trees I noticed more movement and saw a warbler with a yellowish face, dark streaks on the breast, and a couple of white wing bars. I was not familiar with the bird.

After consulting the field guide I thought it was possibly a black-throated green warbler. The warbler was very co-operative and spent a long time in the tree. It was busy feeding on small green worms and it gave me plenty of time to check the field marks. The field guides noted yellow across the vent which I did not notice immediately but the bird gave me plenty of time to check it out and on closer observation the yellow was obvious.

One nice thing about where we were staying is that we were about five minutes from New Harbor where the Hardy Boat departs for puffin watches. The other time I had gone on this puffin cruise it was foggy and we got only spotty views of the puffins. Knowing that the puffins at this time of year are busy feeding their young, I took advantage of a clear sunny day and took the puffin cruise again. The boat had its full complement of passengers, including about 20 enthusiastic young birders with binoculars and guides from Camp Chewonki.

We cruised out to Eastern Egg Rock where the puffin re-introduction has been in full swing. The first pelagic bird (a bird that flies over the open ocean) we saw was the elegant-looking Gannet. One glided within 50 feet of the boat and flew further out to sea to join a larger group doing their distinctive plunge diving for food. On approaching the island the noise of the birds was almost deafening.

The Massachusetts Audubon guide on board explained that apart from the puffins, three species of terns also nested on the island: the common tern, arctic tern, and the roseate tern. The roseate tern is one of the endangered seabirds, and it is reassuring to hear that they are successfully breeding here. The arctic tern has one of the longest migrations of any bird. They make a circumpolar flight from their northerly breeding areas to Antarctica, a trip of about 70,000 kilometers (43,500 miles).

I considered myself lucky to see all three of these birds on this trip. The main reason for many on the boat was to see the puffins and we were not disappointed. Close by, the captain saw one flying toward the island and putting my "bins" on it I could see it had a beak-full of small fish. I followed it as it approached the island and disappeared into its nest burrow amongst the rocks. We saw several others flying and had really close looks at a raft of five or six that floated not 50 feet from the boat. There were so many flying around that I had a good opportunity to really study their flight behavior and distinctive feather colors.

Also flying around were black guillemots. Some people confused these with the puffins as they are a similar shape and have a fast wing beat like the puffins. On closer examination one can see that the guillemot has a small patch of white on its wings and an otherwise black body whereas the puffin shows its white breast clearly while flying. Another giveaway is the shape of the head. The guillemot has a smaller head with a sharp bill whereas the puffin has its distinctive large orange tipped bill.

While scanning the rocks for more puffins we noticed dozens of ruddy turnstones. Without "bins" these small shorebirds probably would have gone unnoticed so well did their calico plumage camouflage them.

On returning to the dock I overheard two of the young campers talking to each other saying that it had been an "awesome" trip. Several of them were reading their field guides and comparing field notes they had made. I thought to myself, "What a great experience for these young men and women, and what a great age to start birding." I am sure, for most of them, the trip will stick in their minds forever and generate an interest in the natural world which will follow them throughout life.

Back at the farm we are enjoying our usual summer residents. A pair of house wrens has taken up residence in an ornamental birdhouse our friend Jenny gave us. The house is hanging on our back porch and is no more than six feet from the table on the terrace where we eat most of our meals in the summer. This close proximity does not bother the wrens at all and gives us a wonderful opportunity to appreciate these frantic little birds.

Most of the eight pairs of barn swallows have already fledged their young and they will soon be winging it south to their winter home in South and Central America. I like to think that we can eat outside all summer because these 30 or so swallows are continually gleaning bugs, eliminating a substantial portion of our mosquito population.

Thirty or so years ago we had chimney swifts in our chimneys but in the late 1980s they disappeared. I was surprised and encouraged when our neighbor, Connie, called me and said a chimney swift nest had fallen down her chimney with four young birds. Swift nests are usually attached to the side of a chimney several feet down and apparently this one had become detached. Connie put the nest and fledglings back up on the smoke shelf, above the damper, and sometime later heard the familiar chatter of the fledglings being fed and the whoosh of the parents exiting the chimney.

Somehow these birds fly about 30 feet down the chimney and back to feed their young. Knowing there were swifts around, I spent several days sitting on my terrace listening for their chatter before I finally heard the swifts twittering call but could only see them when I put my binoculars on them, as they were so high in the sky.

Hopefully this is the start of the return of the cigar-shaped birds to our neighborhood. With six fireplaces in our old house we have plenty of flues to offer them if I can convince at least one of the returning pairs to cross the road when they return next year.

David Durrant lives with his wife, Pamela, on East Bare Hill Road at Micheldever Farm, where they watch birds—their own peacocks, chickens, and wild birds.