Until I carefully inspected the hundreds of photographs I’d taken of that vireo nest, I didn’t know I had just witnessed a miracle.
Beginning in early June, friends called to tell me that a pair of Red-eyed Vireos had recently arrived in a tree above their back deck in Lincolnville, Maine. They asked if I would like to photograph their nest-building process. I was thrilled.
When I first visited the site I couldn’t even see a nest, as expertly hidden as it was. I watched closely as a single bird returned hundreds of times with moss, lichens, grasses and wood shavings in her beak. She, (I later found it was the female) expertly wove all this material into a fine sturdy nest anchored securely in the fork of a young branch.
That evening I started reading and found that these Red-eyed Vireos had likely spent the winter somewhere in the Amazon Basin of South America. Their northward migration had proceeded up through Central America and then either directly across the Gulf of Mexico or along its western coast. This flight to Maine is usually completed by late May after a trip of approximately 3,000 miles. I had never been aware of this species before and had known nothing of its life pattern.
Reading more about Red-eyed Vireos I learned that they were abundant in our eastern deciduous forests; small (6” long; wingspan of 10”; weight 0.6 ounces), active “tree-haunting,” “foliage-gleaning,” birds; kind of like warblers. They had sometimes been called “Greenlets;” the Latin word vireo means “I am green.” The Red-eyed Vireo is the most common but there are thirteen additional vireo species that breed in North America. Both sexes of the Red-eyed are similar in plumage with a bold white stripe over the eye.
The male sings almost incessantly throughout the day. His song is a bit monotonous consisting of the repetition of two, three, or four note phrases one of which is delivered with the declarative and the other with an inquiring inflection (“Here I am; where are you?)
I also read that their cup-shaped nest has an overall diameter of 2 -3/4’’ ; height 2 – 1/8” to 3 - 1/8”; wall thickness ½.” It’s generally suspended from forked, rather thin branches, somewhat lower in the tree than the area in which they forage I couldn’t wait to start my photographic documentation. I visited the nest site again and saw that the industrious female had included even more wood shavings from a nearby house building project. The nest was skillfully built, and well anchored in a forked branch just above the deck. It was a handsome job.
I returned the next day ready to start photographing only to find that our subject birds had suddenly disappeared. I was afraid that our presence during final nest construction might had caused them to change their plans. Three days passed with no further sightings of the prospective parents.
Then, they were back. Soon three white eggs were laid, and the incubation process began in earnest on about June 12.
Almost two weeks later, three blind, naked chicks were hatched and both adults worked tirelessly to keep the newborns fed and warm. Each parent took turns foraging to feed the adult “nest sitter” as well as the young nestlings with the many juicy insects it took to satisfy everyone’s voracious appetite. The nest was never left unguarded. It was kept spotlessly clean with the removal of small white fecal sacs.
I was thrilled to be “in the presence” of these five birds as I continued to photograph them. I was invited to move inside the house to an upstairs window that provided a clear view down into the nest.
Feathers appeared and the youngsters grew quickly. The nest became pretty crowded. The young birds ate more and became more demanding.
Photographs taken on July 4 revealed the three young birds ready and anxious to fledge. They leaned farther out of the nest and exercised their wings constantly. Early the next day, we discovered that the nestlings had flown. I took some photos of a single youngster on the nest branch. He was whistling the call of the vireo, “Where are you ?/Here I am.”
It’s one thing to read or hear about this wonderful process going on among many of the more than 900 bird species breeding in North America.
I realize now that each individual species of every living thing in the natural world goes through some variation on this theme. It’s going on all around us. To see this amazing month-long spectacle at a distance of 25 feet was a profound experience.
Hatching to fledging had taken less than two weeks. During that time, the chicks grew from totally helpless naked nestlings to feathered young flyers.
By early this winter, pending their safe migratory passage, these young vireos will likely be enjoying the tropical warmth of Brazil or Peru, having gotten there by some miraculous internal dead-reckoning process embedded deeply in them.