A Bird’s Tale

False advertising

Sun, 04/26/2015 - 4:15pm

Palm warblers have started to pop up around the state in the last week or so, and their return has gotten us thinking about how the names by which we know different bird species often don’t seem to us today to make the most sense.

Here in Maine we see palm warblers in shrubby areas near water during migration, and we know that they prefer to nest in soggy peat bogs. So where does the name “palm” come in? In this case, it has to do with the fact that during winter, palm warblers hang out in places like Florida and can even sometimes be seen in palm trees. But how about the Cape May warbler, the Tennessee warbler, or the Philadelphia vireo?

All of these species breed largely in the boreal forest region of Canada and winter south of the U.S. — in all cases, far from the places for which they are named. Not surprisingly, all of these species are named for where early ornithologists first found and collected them, and before they knew anything about them. Little did they know how poorly the names described where the birds actually occurred.

Then there are the birds like the hairy woodpecker, which you might think would represent a bird with a wild hairdo rather than the sleek, smooth black-and-white bird that it really is. And does the green-winged teal have green wings? No, just small green patches. It’s fairly unusual to see anything but an unmarked green head on the ruby-crowned kinglet, although if you’re lucky enough to catch one that is singing excitedly with its little ruby patch extended, you’ll suddenly see where the name originates. Its cousin the golden-crowned kinglet, on the other hand, does show its brightly colored crown all the time.

Many a beginning birder has seen a sparrow with white crown stripes and called it a white-crowned sparrow until they learned that the white-throated sparrow has a bright white throat patch to go along with its white crown stripes; the white-crowned sparrow does not. Some may be surprised to discover that the yellow-rumped warbler is not the only warbler to have a yellow patch on the rump, although that feature is certainly most distinctive in that species.

Certain bird names highlight features of the bird that were more obvious to ornithologists working with specimens in hand. The reddish belly on the red-bellied woodpecker is difficult to discern in the field and is not even a necessary identification feature. The well-feathered legs of the rough-legged hawk are not something you’d normally think of when you see this northern buteo hovering over a Maine field in winter. Unless you hold a rough-winged swallow in the hand, you’ll never see the small hooks on the edge of the leading edge of the wing.

We sure our thankful for our perfectly named state bird — the black-capped chickadee — which comes as advertised!

Jeffrey V. Wells, Ph.D., is a Fellow of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Dr. Wells is one of the nation's leading bird experts and conservation biologists. His grandfather, the late John Chase, was a columnist for the Boothbay Register for many years. Allison Childs Wells, formerly of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, is a senior director at the Natural Resources Council of Maine. Both are widely published natural history writers and are the authors of the book, “Maine’s Favorite Birds.”