Bird list, Newman “Nature Preserve” (2022-2025)

An avid birder in my tweens and early teens, I downgraded to a fair-weather birder from around 15 to 45 (birding mostly while in new regions). But in the past two years, I’ve slowly become somewhat more avid again. Part of this change came from moving to the country into a house with lots of easily accessible habitats: wet meadow, dense forest, creek valley, “prairie.” Since moving here in July 2022, my kids and I have been documenting all the bird species we see on or from the property.

In June 2025, I reached the milestone of 100 bird species seen or heard on (or from) the property! The bird that put me into the three digits was a green heron. On December 11, 2025, I saw bird registered #112, a Barred Owl. Here is the complete list (July 1, 2022, to present):

  1. Snow goose, Anser caerulescens (Oct 20, 2025)
  2. Canada goose, Branta canadensis
  3. Cackling goose, Branta hutchinsii (Sept 26, 2025)
  4. Trumpeter swam, Cygnus buccinator (May 4, 2025)
  5. Mallard, Anas platyrhynchos
  6. Wood duck, Aix sponsa (May 2025)
  7. Common merganser, Mergus merganser (Feb 1, 2024)
  8. Wild turkey, Meleagris gallopavo (2023) (bred on property in 2023 and 2024)
  9. Ruffed grouse, Bonasa umbellus
  10. Rock pigeon, Columba livia
  11. Mourning dove, Zenaida macroura
  12. Black-billed cuckoo, Coccyzus erythropthalmus (July 16, 2025; lifer)
  13. Common nighthawk, Chordeiles minor
  14. Chimney swift, Chaetura pelagica
  15. Ruby-throated hummingbird, Archilochus colubris
  16. Killdeer, Charadrius vociferus (April 2025)
  17. Solitary sandpiper, Tringa solitaria (June 25, 2025, heard only)
  18. Greater yellowlegs, Tringa melanoleuca (September 15, 2025)
  19. American woodcock, Scolopax minor (April 10, 2025; mating display; lifer)
  20. Ring-billed gull, Larus delawarensis
  21. Great blue heron, Ardea Herodias
  22. Green heron, Butorides virescens (June 14, 2025)
  23. Double-crested cormorant, Nannopterum auritum
  24. Turkey vulture, Cathartes aura
  25. Osprey, Pandion haliaetus
  26. Bald eagle, Haliaeetus leucocephalus
  27. Northern harrier, Circus hudsonius
  28. Sharp-shinned hawk, Accipiter striatus
  29. Cooper’s hawk, Accipiter cooperii
  30. Broad-winged hawk, Buteo platypterus
  31. Red-tailed hawk, Buteo jamaicensis
  32. Merlin, Falco columbarius
  33. American kestrel, Falco sparverius (Sept 1, 2025)
  34. Asio owl, Asio otus or Asio flammeus (March 2024)
  35. Barred owl, Strix varia (Dec 11, 2025) (see photo below)
  36. Belted kingfisher, Megaceryle alcyon (breeds on property all years)
  37. Red-bellied woodpecker, Melanerpes carolinus (breeds on property all years)
  38. Yellow-bellied sapsucker, Sphyrapicus varius
  39. Downy woodpecker, Dryobates pubescens
  40. Hairy woodpecker, Dryobates villosus
  41. Northern flicker, Colaptes auratus (bred on property in 2025)
  42. Pileated woodpecker, Dryocopus pileatus
  43. Eastern kingbird, Tyrannus tyrannus
  44. Great crested flycatcher, Myiarchus crinitus
  45. Eastern phoebe, Sayornis phoebe (bred on property in 2024)
  46. Eastern Wood-Pewee, Contopus virens (May 29, 2025)
  47. Least flycatcher, Empidonax minimus (May 8, 2025)
  48. Golden-crowned kinglet, Regulus satrapa (March 2024)
  49. Ruby-crowned kinglet, Corthylio calendula (Spring 2024)
  50. Cedar waxwing, Bombycilla cedrorum
  51. Blue-headed vireo, Vireo solitarius (Sept 2024)
  52. Red-eyed vireo, Vireo olivaceus
  53. Blue jay, Cyanocitta cristata
  54. American crow, Corvus brachyrhynchos
  55. Common raven, Corvus corax
  56. Black-capped chickadee, Poecile atricapilla
  57. Barn swallow, Hirundo rustica
  58. Bank swallow, Riparia riparia
  59. Tree swallow, Tachycineta bicolor
  60. White-breasted nuthatch, Sitta carolinensis
  61. Red-breasted nuthatch, Sitta canadensis (Sept 2024)
  62. Brown creeper, Certhia americana
  63. House wren, Troglodytes aedon (bred on property in 2023-2025)
  64. Winter wren, Troglodytes hiemalis (Nov 2024)
  65. Grey catbird, Dumetella carolinensis
  66. European starling, Sturnus vulgaris
  67. Eastern bluebird, Sialia sialis (February 2023)
  68. American robin, Turdus migratorius
  69. Veery, Catharus fuscescens (June 14, 2025, heard only)
  70. Swainson’s Thrush, Catharus ustulatus (Sept 2024)
  71. Hermit Thrush, Catharus guttatus (Nov 8, 2025)
  72. House sparrow, Passer domesticus (2022)
  73. House finch, Haemorhous mexicanus
  74. Purple finch, Haemorhous purpureus
  75. American goldfinch, Spinus tristis (2022)
  76. Chipping sparrow, Spizella passerine
  77. American tree sparrow, Spizelloides arborea (Winter 2023)
  78. Swamp sparrow, Melospiza georgiana (Sept 2024)
  79. Dark-eyed junco, Junco hyemalis
  80. White-throated sparrow, Zonotrichia albicollis
  81. White-crowned sparrow, Zonotrichia leucophrys (Sept 17, 2024)
  82. Song sparrow, Melospiza melodia
  83. Fox sparrow, Passerella iliaca (Oct 24, 2025)
  84. Baltimore oriole, Icterus galbula (bred on property in 2025)
  85. Red-winged blackbird, Agelaius phoeniceus (bred on property all years)
  86. Rusty blackbird, Euphagus carolinus (Oct 6, 2025)
  87. Brown-headed cowbird, Molothrus ater
  88. Common grackle, Quiscalus quiscula
  89. Ovenbird, Seiurus aurocapilla (May 9, 2025)
  90. Black-and-white warbler, Mniotilta varia
  91. Tennessee warbler, Leiothlypis peregrina
  92. Nashville warbler, Leiothlypis ruficapilla
  93. Canada warbler, Cardellina canadensis
  94. Wilson’s warbler, Cardellina pusilla (Sept 14, 2025)
  95. Mourning warbler, Geothlypis philadelphia (May 25, 2025)
  96. Blackpoll warbler, Setophaga striata (Sept 2024, female/immature; lifer)
  97. Bay-Breasted warbler, Setophaga castanea (Aug 25, male)
  98. Northern Parula, Setophaga americana (Sept 2024; lifer)
  99. American redstart, Setophaga ruticilla (Sept 2024)
  100. Cape May warbler, Setophaga tigrina (May 9, 2025)
  101. Black-throated blue warbler, Setophaga caerulescens (Spring 2023)
  102. Black-throated green warbler, Setophaga virens (Sept 2024)
  103. Pine warbler, Setophaga pinus (Fall 2022)
  104. Blackburnian warbler, Setophaga fusca (Aug 2024)
  105. Yellow-rumped warbler, Setophaga coronate (Fall 2022)
  106. Chestnut-sided warbler, Setophaga pensylvanica (Fall 2022)
  107. Magnolia Warbler, Setophaga magnolia (Sept 2024)
  108. Palm warbler, Setophaga palmarum (Sept 1, 2025)
  109. Common Yellowthroat, Geothlypis trichas (Sept 2024; bred on property in 2025)
  110. Rose-breasted grosbeak, Pheucticus ludovicianus
  111. Indigo bunting, Passerina cyanea (July 2024, bred on property in 2024 and 2025)
  112. Northern cardinal, Cardinalis cardinalis

Cultivating one’s garden…

… if by cultivating, I just mean walking around and seeing what’s growing on July 3, 2024.

After a very warm, rainy June, the wet meadow is greener than it’s been in our 3 summers here so far. Lots of white flowers (naturally growing, i.e. not planted) are blooming right now; for example, above, water hemlock, tall meadow rue, Canadian elderberry and Canada anemone. Meanwhile, the native plants I’ve been planting are really taking off (below):

I’ll add Latin names later: from top right, clockwise: Scarlet Beebalm (Monarda didyma), Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata), a Blue butterfly and yellow crab spider on Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), Ironweed, about to bloom; Virginia mountain-mint, about to bloom; Hoary Vervain, grown from seeds collected in the amazing native gardens at University College, University of Toronto; White Vervain, in foreground, with Burr Oak, Common Milkweed and more behind it; centre, a large stink bug and “daddy-longlegs” on a Common Milkweed leaf.

Mid-June in Ontario: Peak Plant Growth

It’s been an unusually rainy June, coupled with some truly hot days. As a result, the plants in my garden are growing like mad. Here’s a selective round up for June 2024 so far, starting with some lovely fireweed (Chamaenerion angustifolium), with some yarrow (Achillea millefolium) and fleabane (Erigeron annuus) in the foreground (also some wild bergamot [Monarda fistulosa], not yet in flower). The trees in the background are trembling aspen (Populus tremuloides).

Above, clockwise from top left: foxglove beardtongue (Penstemon digitalis), swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata), rough oxeye (Heliopsis helianthoides), common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), blue flag iris (Iris versicolor), wild senna (Senna hebecarpa), balsam ragwort (Packera paupercula), the strange and surprisingly bee-appealing flower of staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina), yarrow (Achillea millefolium), Canada milkvetch (Astragalus canadensis), and St. John’s wort (Hypericum perforatum).

Springtime in Ontario

It was a disappointing winter, with little snow. But spring sprang hard anyway. The last week of April, documented here, has been fantastic in my yard and at the local conservation area.

From the top left, clockwise: A barred owl (Strix varia), my first sighting ever, and a really good one! An eastern milk snake (Lampropeltis triangulum triangulum), which sadly was run over by a neighbour a few days later–I’m still grieving. Understorey flowers in a mature forest, taking advantage of the sun before the canopy closes up. Bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis), I believe. An eastern garter snake (Thamnophis sirtalis sirtalis) checking out the world. Sharp-lobed hepatica (Anemone acutiloba). Large-flowered Bellwort (Uvularia grandiflora). A well-camouflaged DeKay’s brown snake (Storeria dekayi). A rare stand of mature coniferous trees. Trout lily (Erythronium americanum).

Two weeks later, the area already looks completely different…

Farewell to summer 2023

After a few good frosts, the last of the flowers and insects are pretty much gone for the year. Time to reflect on a summer that, here if nowhere else in the world, was remarkably mild and manageable. A few highlights from the garden and environs below.

From top left: Oswego Tea (Monarda didyma); a bumble bee (probably Bombus impatiens) on Joe Pye Weed (Eutrochium purpureum); a rather big hailstone, freshly fallen; a gorgeous unidentified beetle on some goldenrod (Solidago sp); a newly emerged adult Monarch (Danaus plexippus); sunset or distant thermonuclear blast; dead Northern Short-Tailed Shrew (Blarina brevicauda); a bumble bee getting right into a Blue Lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica), note the pollen packets on the bee’s hind legs; an unidentified fungus; another unidentified fungus (I don’t know mushrooms); Butterfly Milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa), with some visitors including hard-to-see ants.

A moth (Lymantria dispar dispar, I think) on the window; Foxtongue Beardtongue (Penstemon digitalis); Wild Black Raspberries (Rubus occidentalis) and their domesticated red relatives (Rubus ideaus); Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata); and a rather huge stick insect, no ID.

Late August is peak flower and insect time

I promised that this next post would talk about the (many many) invasive plants I have to deal with (and some that I ignore), but I can’t be bothered to focus on them when there is so much exciting life in the garden. Scroll down to see some of the newest blooms and insects. But just to keep my promise somewhat, here is the biggest foe of all: Japanese knotweed (Fallopia japonica), which is a biological marvel, being nearly uncontrollable.

I just spent about two hours digging out a single stem I found growing by the creekside. I had to go about two and half feet deep, using water to loosen the soil to avoid breaking the extremely long and deep and brittle rhizomes. I know I didn’t get it all, but I think I came very close. If it grows back, it’ll be severely weakened and vulnerable to repeated pulling up. The same isn’t true of the bigger patch (above), which has literally been keeping me up at night. Should I call in a professional exterminator to spray them? Should I just cut and cut and cut them until their rhizomes starve (it might take 20 years or more)? I am terrified that it will spread into the floodplain blow.

Anyway, enough about that. Below, I’ve got some photos of what’s in bloom near Peterborough in late August. The predominant colour is yellow, mainly from many species of goldenrod (Solidago spp.), which pollinators love and which do not cause hay fever! (That’s ragweed, Ambrosia artemisiifolia, which flowers at the same time.) But the Joe Pye weed (Eutrochium purpureum) is also still flowering, as you can see below. It’s a bonanza for bees.

And here are some close-ups of other plants keeping me in a summer mood, along with some insects.

All these photos except the stick insect were taken yesterday (August 25, 2023). The stick insect was about two weeks ago. All were taken within 10 metres of my house. From top left, clockwise: tall ironweed (Vernonia gigantea), butterfly milkweed (Asclepias tuberosa), which is particularly orange this time around, with a honeybee (Apis mellifera); New England Aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae), with some late-flowering Bee-Balm (Monarda didyma); a small yellow crab spider amongst Joe Pye Weed (Eutrochium purpureum) flowers; a bee fly drinking nectar from New England Aster; a bumblebee deep in a Great Blue Lobelia (Lobelia siphilitica)–notice the pollen sacs on its hind legs; a stick insect, my first sighting ever; a small yellow beetle on Green-headed coneflower (Rudbeckia laciniata); and a bumble bee (probably Bombus impatiens) on a goldenrod (probably Solidago gigantea).

But that’s not all! I don’t know what this beetle is, but I’d never seen it before yesterday. Here it is hanging out in the goldenrod.

Tis also the season for adult monarch butterflies to emerge:

And more…

From top left, clockwise: a wasp on White Vervain (Verbena urticifolia); Anise Hyssop (Agastache foeniculum) and Smooth Oxeye (Heliopsis helianthoides); a beautiful, tiny black and red beetle on anise hyssop leaf; an unidentified bee or wasp on anise hyssop; a leafhopper on smooth oxeye; orange jewelweed (Impatiens capensis); White Snakeroot (Ageratina altissima), about to flower; Obediant Plant (Physostegia virginiana); Woodland Sunflower (Helianthus divaricatus) at the edge of a Black Locust (Robinia pseudoacacia) and Sugar Maple (Acer saccharum) wood; a view of what used to be lawn just a few months ago–the remaining lawn is not long for this world; bumble bee on Yellow Giant Hyssop (Agastache nepetoides); a yellowjacket (Vespula sp.) on a windfall apple; Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) in bloom, with some Wild Lupine (Lupinus perennis) leaves in the background; Round-headed Bush Clover (Lespedeza capitata).

New garden, new world

It’s been a while since I last posted about my garden-based explorations of my yard and its plant and insect life–the outdoor counterpart to close-reading literature. In part this is because since last July (2022) I have been living in a new place, about 2 hours out of Toronto. While I miss the city for many reasons (friends, food, a 15 minute commute to work by bike), here I have the benefit of a lot more land to work with.

Much of the property is wild, so apart from removing buckthorn and other highly aggressive invasive plants, I leave those parts alone. But about an ace or more was lawn when we moved here. I say was because I’m chipping away at it. There’s now a pretty large vegetable garden, and the rest is on its way to being a massive native plant area.

The last few days (August 2023) have been a potent mix of hot sunny weather and intense downpour, so the plants are growing madly. The bees are out in force, among other pollinators (a saw a ruby-throated hummingbird at the bee-balm the other day). So here’s a sampling of the view up close.

From top left, roughly clockwise: Bombus impatiens about to land on a fireweed flower (Chamaenerion angustifolium); backlit wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa); butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa); wild black raspberries (Rubus occidentalis), which are delicious; this year’s pride a joy, Culver’s root (Veronicastrum virginicum), visited by an unidentified bumble bee; marsh milkweed (Asclepias incarnata), one of the most impressive native flowers around; a honey bee (Apis mellifera) on an enormous purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea); boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) about to burst into bloom; jewelweed (Impatiens capensis); a bumble bee feasting on wild bergamot nectar; and blue vervain (Verbena hastata).

I’ll try to post more plants, and especially more insects in the coming days and weeks. I will also feature some of the plants I’m trying to control, including the notorious Japanese knotweed (Fallopia japonica) and the voracious goutweed (Aegopodium podagraria).

Insects of my garden

I just found this post in my drafts from July 2021. I no longer have this garden, now that I live outside Toronto. The plants and insects in that small space were the thing I loved most about that home. Here are, clockwise from top left, some aphids on cup plant; a hawkmoth visiting common milkweed flowers; a lady beetle on cup plant, again with aphids; a solitary bee on purple coneflower; a stink bug (I think) on giant hyssop; a small wasp on wild bergamot; a tiny solitary bee on Queen Ann’s Lace; a bumble bee queen on lavender; a gorgeous yellow fly on a milkweed leaf; tiny solitary bees on wild bergamot; some kind of beetle (perhaps a weevil) on a plant I can’t identify from the photo; a small beetle on marsh milkweed; and a lacewing on common milkweed.

I initially collected these photos for young Finn, who was worried about the decline of insects in the world. There is lots to worry about. But there is plenty of joy and wonder to be had from insects close to home nonetheless.

Bumble bees, richness where some just see “bugs”

I could have written this post about just about any living thing, but I’m predisposed to notice and care about bumble bees, which I studied during my MSc in Ontario and Colorado. This spring, worried about the lack of bumble bees in my area, I contacted a former lab-mate, now a professor at York University, about what I could do to help pollinators beyond making my garden more hospitable. By coincidence, she had just posted these recommendations on Twitter, and drew my attention in particular to participating in the Citizen Science project Bumble Bee Watch. The data such projects provide to conservation biologists is invaluable, I’m told; and I’ve found it strangely addictive to generate such data for them.

It’s become a bit of an obsession, actually. I now walk around with a camera and exasperate my family by stopping everywhere to take multiple photos of bumble bees. Some are reproduced here, all the photos above and below having been taken since July 2021, across Ontario and Quebec (for IDs and locations, look up my name on Bumble Bee Watch). I also have bumble bee photos dating back to 2002, from my field work and my subsequent ability to care about and notice bumble bees, the many species that coexist and differ subtly in colour pattern and behaviour, and the plants they visit. Bumble bees strike me as the most personable and psychologically interesting of insects, but maybe that’s just because I’ve paid attention to them.

It’s a particular thrill, when something that was just generalized (“bees” or even “bugs”) becomes particularized (“bumble bees” or even “Bombus impatiens,” and beyond that “Bombus impatiens male, or worker, or queen”). I can imagine a Borges short story, in which a character develops the ability to see everything in its absolute particularity. No doubt that would be a curse, and a problem for science. But seeing species only generically–such as my friend who can’t differentiate roses from daffodils, seeing them both simply as “flowers”–is also a curse, both for the beholder and for their community.

I remember playing in the lawn in the backyard when I was about 7 years old, and noticing, quite suddenly, that what had seemed like a uniform carpet of self-same grass was in fact a patchwork of many greens–not just grass, but moss, creeping plants (Creeping Charlie?), and other plants with tiny leaves and flowers.

Comfrey, sage, and fennel, and thyme

I have been ruthless in removing non-native plants from my garden, even those I planted myself in past years. There are some exceptions, though. Some of these non-natives either flower when little else is there to feed pollinators (forget-me-not, Forsythia), while others are so obviously valued by bees and butterflies that they clearly perform an important role in maintaining and feeding insects. Comfrey (Symphytum asperum) is one of these, an attractive (though prickly) plant whose hanging bell-shaped flowers are favoured by bumble bees (who use “buzzing” to get at its pollen). A bunch of comfrey flowers are in the picture at top left, below. Another non-native I foster is fennel, which I don’t cook with but plant because it seems to be the favourite food plant for swallowtail butterfly caterpillars (they also like Queen Ann’s Lace, but they ignore that if there’s fennel around). Thyme and other minty herbs (oregano, basil, mint) have small flowers that small bees and flies like.

But my favourite, and the biggest draw for bees in my garden, is sage. It flowers in late May and over continues to do so for weeks. Bees of all sizes come for the nectar, and looking down at my big sage plants yesterday I could see the busy traffic of dozens of bees. These include honey bees (Apis mellifera), like the one seen taking off after feeding at a sage flower, top right; Osmia sp., second down from top left; Common Eastern Bumble Bee (Bombus impatiens), second down from top right, using its front leg to hold up a leaf; Bicoloured Agapostemon (Agapostemon viriscens), third down on the left, seen here approaching a sage flower on the wing; the Polyester Bee (Colletes inaequalis), third down from the right; and several others too small for me to recognize. There are also ants feeding on sage nectar and several species of fly, as well as Cabbage White butterflies (Pieris rapae), bottom left. The surfeit of insects also attracts parasitic wasps, one of which I captured in a fuzzy image (bottom right).

Apart from sage, this week’s major draw for bees was my honey locust tree (Gleditsia triacanthos), which I planted in 2009 as a seedling and which is now taller than the house. It’s the first year that it’s produced a lot of flowers, and the bees are all over it. They also love the Red-Osier Dogwood (Cornus sericea), which is going through a second round of flowering. As the honey locust stops flowering, the staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina) is about to flower; I never imagined that these interesting-looking inflorescences (a bit like Romanesco brocoli) could be appealing to insects, just because they’re green and not showy–but I was wrong. Bees love them: