Whitesbog 1/14--Eastern Phoebe

Sometimes, when the birding is going to be obviously slow, I take a perverse interest in how few birds I can find on a long walk.  Such was the case this morning at Whitesbog, where all the water is frozen, and a stiff wind was blowing. After walking about a hundred feet on the Ocean County side, I could tell it was game on.

By the time I reached the northern side of the Upper Reservoir after walking a circuitous mile and a half, I was doing pretty well (badly), having tallied three species--Carolina Chickadee, Golden-crowned Kinglet, Dark-eyed Junco--four, if you want to count the sparrow spuh that could have been Song, Swamp, or Savannah. I saw the junco just as I was starting up the side of the reservoir. Normally, this is a good place to see sparrows as they feed on the dike and jump from the brush into the trees across the path, but birds are smarter than we are, and all the junco's friends were, I'm sure, hunkered down. Of course, there's always the hope that while you might not see a lot, you might find something "interesting." As that thought was forming, a bird flew to my right and landed in a dead shrubby tree on the bank of the reservoir. The Upper Reservoir is only about 2/3 filled after being drawn down for the cranberry harvest, so there is a lot of sand exposed. This bird flew onto the ground, then quickly back to the branch. It repeated this maneuver a number of times and when it stayed still on the sand long enough, I could see that it was an Eastern Phoebe, a winter rarity. The behavior is what first set the alarm bell off, then the darker head and the clear breast. It was too far, at that point for a photo, and by the time I reached the tree I lost it, probably, I thought, in the woods on the other side. 

I continued another mile up to Hanover Pond just at the edge of Fort Dix without seeing another bird, then turned around and took a newly re-opened path that was dug alongside a restored canal that leads to the back of the Reservoir. You can still just get by on the sand and walk back to the road. I was hoping that a different angle would get me another look at the phoebe, and, yes, there it was, just below the bank, jumping from stump to stump, bobbing its tail. What insects this flycatcher can possibly find I can't imagine. Some birds switch to waxy berries in the winter, but I don't know about phoebes. 

I made my way back to the car and added 3 more species--American Robin, Eastern Bluebird, Hairy Woodpecker--for a total of 7. If you can stay below double digits, you win.