A Song From the Nest

One of my favorite local breeding birds is the Warbling Vireo, Vireo gilvus. A lot of people describe these little songbirds as drab because they are all gray and have few distinct markings. I, on the other hand, have had many close looks at Warbling Vireos and feel that they are in no way drab. Their gray body feathers are often highlighted by a yellowish cream-colored belly and sometimes even a hint of jade green. They have a light streak across their face that gives them a bit of personality, and once you hear their spunky nasal "eeayah" call you wont be able to call them drab again. These birds have sass.

This is the only photograph I have of a non-blurry Warbling Vireo, but at least it is artsy!

After conducting an Area Search today (another PRBO project monitoring BLM treatments of Aspen/mixed conifer groves), I spent some time with a pair of vireos who seemed to have a nest nearby. They zipped back and forth between a few small Aspens, vigorously chasing off other birds and gleaning insects from the chalky white bark of the trees. They stuck together mostly and kept in touch by calling. I didn't find their nest, if they made it yet, but I found another Warbling Vireo nest on a different plot. I found that nest when I followed the male's quick, accented song until he stopped singing. I looked up and there he was, singing from the nest. Most birds sing from the tops of nearby trees or shrubs to claim their territory edge. Singing while sitting on the nest seems a little silly and dangerous, but Warbling Vireo males do it often.

Here is a video I took of a Warbling Vireo singing from the nest last year.

A few weeks ago I had the distinct pleasure of watching a male build his nest in a tiny Aspen up Bohler Canyon. Usually they build their nests high in trees (most nests that I have found have been over three and a half meters high, or more than twice my height), but this guy was building a mere four feet off the ground in the tiniest of Aspens. I watched him hover a few inches off the ground while he plucked dry sedges from a colorless tuft of vegetation. He flew with long strands of grasses and thin aspen bark back to the nest and artfully tucked them into the structure of his almost complete nest. It was woven together with tent caterpillar web strands twisted together to make strong threads and lined with softer cheat grass and feathers. Their nest building skills amaze me. They build these intricate little woven cups every year, year after year. No one teaches them how, they just know.

The unfinished nest, with fibers still dangling before he tucked them in.

The tent caterpillar webs (or tents) hold it together pretty nicely!