BIRD BANDING RESULTS FOR

HILTON POND NORTH DURING CURRENT PERIOD

1-14 September 2025

The table below shows birds banded during the Current Period (Columns 1 & 2), each species' Yearly Tally (Column 3), and a Grand Total for each (Column 4) since banding commenced locally in March 2024. Any new species for the current year are in RED.

NEWLY BANDED BIRDS

AT HILTON POND NORTH

1-14 September 2025

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

It's possible the somewhat lower number of ruby-throats occurred because early September brought a streak of unusually cool temperatures in the upper 30s—weather that may have pushed hummers southward sooner than usual. However, we're hard-pressed to explain a near absence of local and migratory songbirds and simply defer to our favorite maxim: "Every year is different, and some years are more different than others." Perhaps low numbers this year are the norm and 2024 was an outlier. Or vice versa. Or neither. With only two autumn banding seasons under our belt here at Hilton Pond North, it's best we don't start drawing conclusions for at least a few more years.

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

Seven kinds of birds banded during September's first two weeks included five warbler species, plus hummingbirds and a young female Scarlet Tanager (SCTA, above)—an individual far more drab than her male counterpart in breeding condition. Come fall SCTA are tricky to sex because prior to migration adult males exchange their brilliant scarlet body plumage for a deep yellow-green that resembles that of the female. The big difference is wing color: Jet black in males but dull blackish-gray in females, as above. Complicating all this is young males also look like females, but their wings are always some darker shade of black.

Scarlet Tanagers are Neotropical migrants that nest in mature deciduous and mixed forests across eastern North America, from southeastern Canada to northern Georgia—including Ashe County. These birds prefer forest interiors where they forage primarily in the upper canopy, feeding on insects during breeding season and adding fruits during migration and in the Neotropics. They're valuable pest controllers, particularly of forest caterpillars like gypsy moths. SCTA nest high in deciduous trees and undertake long-distance migrations to South American forests from Colombia to northern Argentina. While still relatively common, Scarlet Tanager populations have declined due to woodland fragmentation; they require large tracts of interior forest habitat to breed successfully.

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

Of the five parulid species banded this week, two were definite migrants—Cape May Warbler and Tennessee Warbler)—but three were possible local breeders—Ovenbird, Hooded Warbler, and Worm-eating Warbler (WEWA above). Of these, Worm-eating is least common in the area, with very few Ashe County eBird reports in the past ten years. (We banded one at Hilton Pond North on 1 September 2024; this year's came on the 5th.)

Despite their name, WEWA don't eat worms but specialize in using stout bills to glean caterpillars, larvae, and other small insects from clusters of dead foliage; they often hang upside down, probing curled leaves on branches and vine tangles. Sexes look similar, with distinctive black stripes on a buff-colored head and an unmarked olive-brown dorsum. Worm-eating Warblers prefer steep, wooded hillsides and ravines where they build cup-shaped nests on the ground, often hidden under dense vegetation or fallen logs. These secretive birds breed across the eastern U.S. from southern New England to north Georgia and spend our cold months from Mexico to Panama. Their populations have declined in some regions due to loss of dense forests with well-developed understory layers.

Although the first fortnight in September didn’t bring many colorful warblers, we did spy some eye-pleasing butterflies foraging for nectar on late-blooming flora. Among these was a Gray Hairstreak, Strymon melinus (above), whose diminutive 1.5" wingspan makes it one of our smallest butterflies. The hind wings have orange "eyespots" that, together with white-tipped "tails" resembling antennae, give the impression the butterfly's rear is its anterior. This may lead predators such as birds, lizards, or mantises to strike at the “false head” instead of the real one, allowing a hairstreak to escape with only damaged wings. As shown, the butterfly's actual antennae are banded black and white.

Gray Hairstreak adults are active throughout much of the warm-weather year, nectaring on flowers such as White Snakeroot, Ageratina altissima (above), one of Hilton Pond Center's most abundant fall wildflowers. Its caterpillars are are highly adaptable, feeding on an unusually wide variety of plants. Native hosts include Tick-trefoil, Lespedeza, and Clovers, but larvae also dine on leaves of non-native clovers, beans, cotton, and strawberries—making them both beneficial pollinators AND occasional garden pests. In warmer regions they produce multiple broods, while northern populations may have only one or two generations per season. They're fast, erratic fliers that, unlike many butterflies, often bask with wings closed.

Our second brightly hued lepidopteran of the week was a species we'd seen locally only once before: A stately female Monarch, Denaus plexippus (above), repeatedly probing a blossom of Red Clover, Trifolium pratense—a non-native member of the Pea Family (Fabaceae) now naturalized across North America. The Monarch, of course, if famous for its multi-stage lifestyle and long-distance migration and for its dependence on various native milkweed plants (Asclepias spp.) as hosts for its leaf-munching larvae. An adult Monarch will take nectar from just about any flower that helps fuel its southbound travels. In contrast, larvae need to sequester toxic milkweed compounds to make them unpalatable to predators; Red Clover (above) just won’t do because ONLY milkweed works.

Dependence on a single genus of plants for its offspring is the Monarch's undoing because milkweed species are in steep decline due to herbicide use, habitat loss, and land development. Vast prairies and fields once home to Common Milkweed, Asclepias syriaca, are now commercial megafarms, and milkweed is relegated to disturbed areas like highway shoulders, fencerows, and other habitats deemed unfit for agriculture. Here at Hilton Pond North the only milkweeds grow on the roadside near our mailbox (above). Alas, these get mowed each summer by industrious highway crews, so we've rescued several plants and placed them in safer areas on the property. We're also trying to grow Swamp Milkweed, A. incarnata, and Butterflyweed, A. tuberosa, from seed purchased at reliable native plant nurseries. Monarchs are fully dependent on the conservation of milkweed habitats across their vast migratory range, so we all should do everything we can to propagate their host plants.

CAUTION: Do NOT plant colorful Tropical Milkweed, A. currassavica, a nearly evergreen species native to Mexico and Central and South America (our photo above from Belize). There is strong evidence this plant disrupts Monarch migration, directly and indirectly. It also harbors a protozoan parasite, Ophryocystis elektroscirrha, that reduces all these: Monarch body weight, longevity, mating success, and flight efficiency. According to the Xerces Society, the parasite also occurs in native Milkweeds, but when those plants "die off each winter after blooming, the parasite goes along with them, so each summer's [caterpillar] population feeds on fresh, parasite-free foliage." Stick with natives!

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

Native milkweeds may be in short supply in many areas, but that's not the case with local Goldenrods (Solidago spp.). After last week's photo essay about "Glorious Goldenrods" and their pollinators, several readers asked how to tell the difference between the truly "tall" local Solidagos—Canada, Giant, and Tall Goldenrod—so we put together the chart above. Look for inflorescence style and leaf shapes, overall height, and especially relative hairiness of the stem. (We'll probably NOT be making a chart for the other 75-100 goldenrods in North America!)

Although we concentrated last week on Canada Goldenrod growing here at Hilton Pond North, this week we were surprised to find a new species with a distinctive and entirely different flower configuration growing just outside our cabin. Rather than big clustering plumes, this one had flowers emerging from leaf axils along a four-foot-long, gracefully curved stem. It was Axillary (Blue-stemmed) Goldenrod, Solidago caesia (above). We like another alternate name— Wreath Goldenrod—imagining its fronds would be woven into a decorative door wreath or a floral garland headdress for some woodland nymph. In fact, unlike its sun-loving relatives, this species prefers the dappled light of deciduous and mixed forests. It's an important late-season nectar source for woodland butterflies, bees, and other pollinators when few other flowers are blooming in the understory.

All photos, videos, maps, charts, drawings, and text © Hilton Pond North

Sunset from Hilton Pond North, 12 September 2025. After a week of crystal blue skies, a few clouds slipped in at dusk.

The Ovenbird (OVEN, above) has one of the most sophisticated ground-nesting strategies among North American songbirds: Pairs construct a domed nest (with side entrance) that resembles a traditional Dutch oven, complete with a "porch" or landing platform at the entrance. These secretive forest floor specialists have an unusual two-part song system: The familiar ringing "TEACHER-teacher-teacher" territorial song carries up to a quarter-mile through forest understory, but males also perform an elaborate, rarely-heard flight song at dawn and dusk that includes complex warbles and can last several minutes as they spiral high above the canopy. Ovenbirds have remarkably strong site fidelity, with individuals often returning to breed within a few hundred yards of their previous year's territory. They walk rather than hop, moving through leaf litter with a distinctive head-bobbing gait that likely helps them spot insects and other invertebrates. Their populations serve as excellent indicators of forest health, requiring large tracts of mature forest with minimal fragmentation. This makes them a key species for conservation biologists monitoring eastern woodland ecosystems. At Hilton Pond North we banded nine Ovenbirds last year and four so far in 2025.