A few days ago I took delivery of “The Book of Birds” by Jackie Morris and Robert Macfarlane. Rather wonderful, not least for the glorious artwork. On the first page I read … this:
There is another relevant quotation at the end of this article …
Noticing Nature #27 - Yellow-rumped Warbler (Setophaga coronata)
I had planned to return to the Noticing Nature series of cameos by spotlighting an early May flower. Seasonally appropriate. But then starting last weekend, and daily for three or four days, the garden was visited by the first of several successive travelling groups of Yellow-rumped Warblers, splashing in the small pool at the top of the garden waterfall and they seemed to be an ideal choice to feature. Everyone gets excited by Warblers and these are some of the easiest to find though getting to say hello to so many all at once is most unusual.
Also known as Butterbutts for obvious reasons. At this time of the year, in their super-bright, fresh breeding plumage they are also remarkable for the bright yellow on their sides and under-wings. These are not a rare bird or any more endangered than several other species - which makes them also relatively easy for novice birder to notice. In fact they are North America’s most abundant warbler species. Despite recent habitat changes across North America that have affected the populations of most bird species, their broad distribution and dietary flexibility have kept population numbers relatively stable and common. The latest phylogenetic studies have meant that the species that was once classified under the genus Dendroica moved to Setophaga in the early part of this century.
Unlike most warblers that are obligate insectivores, this species is an opportunistic omnivore feeding on insects, spiders, fruits, and berries. This dietary flexibility has the advantage of allowing them to winter farther north than other warbler species. They breed in coniferous and mixed-wood forests with a preference for balsam-fir communities but can generally be found in lmost any woodland, shrub corner, coastal dune, park, or residential area during migration and winter.
There are two main subspecies: the Myrtle Warbler in the east where we live and Audubon’s Warbler to the west, differing slightly in plumage and range. They are diurnal year-round but migrate nocturnally between breeding grounds across Canada and the northern U.S. and their wintering areas extend to Central America.
Multiple Setophaga species can coexist, often within the same tree, seemingly without squabbling over available food. Since these species are strikingly similar in both diet and morphology, this was once thought to be somewhat of a violation of the laws of evolution but the several species manage to coexist through subtle feeding differences due to niche partitioning and diffuse exploitative interspecific competition. Rather than compete directly for the same food resources, each species utilizes slightly different feeding strategies to capture a slightly different set of prey species. This reduces competition pressure and indirectly shapes social interactions—more birds can share the same resource without escalating conflict.
Overall, interactions with humans has been described as pragmatic tolerance. They’re not social with us in any direct sense, but they’re flexible enough to come close when conditions make it worthwhile. Yellow-rumped Warblers aren’t seeking interaction with humans, but they are unusually adaptable and observant. When conditions are right - especially in food-rich environments such as gardens, they will “allow” humans into their space in a way many other warblers simply don’t.
Seen while walking locally
Naming and Noticing
I started this week’s post with a quotation about the loss of birds in our skies. I will finish with another quote from the same book. Regular readers will have been aware that I need to know the names of creatures. Simply “It’s a Blackbird” is insufficient information … once seen I want to know which Blackbird, there are so many? This is why that matters:
Absence is harder to track and feel than presence. The ghosts of gone birds fade quickly from memory. Shifting baseline syndrome habituates us to sparser skies. It does not have to be this way - but we will not save what we do not love, and we rarely love what we cannot name.
Noticing is the first step to naming; naming the first step to knowing both things and the relations between things. Knowledge may lead to wonder, wonder to care, care to action, action to change. But this is a fragile chain, easily broken - its links must be reforged and rejoined, over and over again.
from: “The Book of Birds” by Morris & Macfarlane 2026
Have you visited The OLD Bookshop & Café?
Part of that thinning is the mass loss of flying insects. Remember when your windshield (windscreen to you, Richard) used to get fully mucked up when driving at highway speeds? I haven't seen that in decades now, it seems. That may be due more to insecticide use than habitat loss.
My copy of The Book of Birds awaits me at my local independent bookstore. I will pick it up when I am not longer contagious with my spring cold. But that 'thinning of the skies' has become so clear to me, both here and across the pond, after 50 years of birding.