A night of strong winds from the north and a day that dawned calm and sunny provided near perfect conditions for a drop migration movement. Never anyone to squander the opportunity, I grabbed binoculars and headed out to prove my theory.

• Over the river trail the temperature was crisp, the birding activity somewhat on the slow side. Consequently of the windy night, leaves were sweet bonanza gacor plentiful on the trail. Even walking softy, the crunching leaves made hearing bird song a bit tricky. However, as the sun seeped through the trees, warming the undergrowth, the chirps and cheeps picked up. On the migrant side, a merry band of American Robins were busily swapping tree-top perches for the ability to scurry around on the forest floor. I watched them for some minutes and thought they appeared particularly congenial to one another, chattering back and forth as if attending an excellent social occasion. The foodstuff source will need to have been plentiful.

A brief distance down the trail, I detected five Hermit Thrushes, going quietly about their business. By their manner and demeanor, you'd never know they were of the exact same family as the robins. Their behavior was unobtrusive, they moved slowly, without song or call. As I watched the thrushes, I became aware of twittering in the tree tops above me. Looking up, I saw the nervous wing flicking that could only be kinglets. They certainly were not singing, just whispering their lisping notes. After a few moments, I obtained binocular views and identified both Ruby-crowned and Golden-crowned Kinglets. It amuses me to view kinglets while they continually flitter and fidget in their restless search for insects.

As I neared the largest bend in the river, woods gave solution to weedy fields and I was rewarded by lots of migrant sparrows. The absolute most obvious and the best number were White-throated Sparrows. Even though these were actively feeding, there is no dearth of clear whistled song as "Poor Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody" rang out over and over. If you reside north of the U.S. border, the white-throats sing "Oh, Sweet Canada, Canada, Canada", approximately I've been told! Whatever the interpretation, it's delightful and cheery.

A few other migrants were mixed in with the sparrow flock, including White-crowned Sparrows and Savannah Sparrows. Not to be outdone, our resident Song Sparrows might be heard all over the trail. I confess they are one of my favorites simply because they don't play hide and seek with me. They're an in-your-face bird. Pish or whistle and the Song Sparrow hops front and center to answer along with his 3 note introduction, followed closely by very pleasing musical notes.

Noting a couple hours had slipped away, I turned to make my way home. I was feeling pretty contented, the typical result of the good bird walk. The gusty winds from yesterday had showered the trail with a heavy concentration of leaves, and as I walked along I began to shuffle my feet through them. Soon, I was kicking leaves with abandon, just having a grand time of it. Yea, I was very relaxed. And then, without warning, as I kicked right into a colorful pile of autumn leaves, A FEATHERED BOMBSHELL EXPLODED AT MY FEET!

I'd accidentally disturbed a resting American Woodcock! What a bonanza! I don't know which folks was more startled. I do know it sure gave my nervous system a twitch. Even with the shock of surprise, it only took a millisecond to recognize the bird. One glimpse of the initial chunky shape, round wings, barred head, and killer bill was all it took. I didn't hear the normal twittering wing sound the woodcock probably made as it abruptly flew up, but, the blood pounding through my veins may have dulled the normal flight sounds. What a thrill!

Whilst it isn't rare to visit a woodcock across the river trail, it is not really a ho-hum bird by any means. An American Woodcock is surely a bonanza bird for me. The woodcock is nocturnal by nature, but I've seen many wandering around in the daylight. On the river trail, I've only seen them in the shaded, shallow gullies that run near the trail. These gullies collect rain, which forms temporary rivulets. Whilst the water evaporates, it leaves muddy areas. These soft, moist spots provide ideal habitat for hungry woodcocks, who feed by poking their long, flexible bills into the soft earth in search of goodies.