Drab species are worth seeing, too

During the spring, when songbirds surge northward along the Atlantic flyway and descend into our backyards and neighborhood parks, we usually watch for brightly colored warblers, grosbeaks, tanagers and orioles.

Almost 30 warbler species sweep through Virginia on their journey northward to breeding grounds. Of these, two dozen breed throughout our coastal plain and mountain habitats, and species that continue northward often stop briefly to rest and feed in our area.

No wonder we seek out warblers in the spring, because they are in their brightest plumage and sing repeatedly with purpose and gusto. Who can resist hunting for a yellow-breasted chat, a skulker usually hidden in thick underbrush that hoots and giggles while simultaneously defending territory and trying to attract a mate? Or what birder can pass up the soft, meandering song of the Canada warbler that challenges anyone nearby to search diligently through thick vines to glimpse its lemon-yellow throat and chest that sports a black-streaked necklace?

But many other avian species accompanying our treasured songbirds on their northward journey are often unheralded and overlooked, or grudgingly and joylessly given a nod.

Although many fellow travelers may have an intriguing song or call, their disappointing plumages are the root of such disrespect. Many are studies in black, white and gray, or earth-tone shades. The lucky ones have a pale yellow wash at best.

The eastern kingbird is a good example of a species that generates little excitement. It does have potential: a distinctive "dzeet" call and quick fluttering wingbeats as it displays near the top of a tall tree in the spring. But the bird has a black head, slate gray back, white underparts and a pale gray wash across its breast -- in a word, uninspiring. Two of our prized warblers, blackpoll and black-and-white, have nearly the same color scheme. However, the warblers have bold stripes and bars with crisp and bright feather patterns, and both have a visual pizazz that the eastern kingbird never dreamed of.

Chimney swifts suffer the same image deficit. While the species clearly has a unique shape and distinctive chattering in-flight call, birders barely acknowledge its presence overhead during twilight hours. Its odd behavior of swooping into chimneys at dusk has garnered the rapt attention of few birders and only a handful of ornithologists.

Not counting certain sparrows, my vote for the drabbest species goes to our smallest flycatchers. Acadian and least flycatchers hang out near forest edges and dart from high perches to capture small flying insects. Despite flattering photos in field guides that show pale yellow and green feathering as well as clean wingbars, these two 5-inch species usually appear much duller when you spot them perched and well camouflaged among leaf clusters.

A close cousin of the flycatchers, the eastern wood-pewee has a distinctive and cheerful two-part call note that first ascends then drops like a tenor slide trombone. Its gray and charcoal feathery costume rivals the eastern kingbird. All three small flycatchers are nearly as hard to find as ovenbirds and thrushes in the forest, in part due to their somber and lackluster appearances.

Perhaps it's human nature to seek out eye-catching and dazzling species in the spring, but identifying drab songbirds can be rewarding too. Can you really tell a wood-pewee, a least flycatcher and an Acadian flycatcher apart when perched in the shadowy forest interior until each gives its unique call-note?

Taking up this daunting challenge can bring its own rewards and boost your skills at identification. You can give drab species their own niche in the springtime extravaganza.

Contact Jerry Uhlman at .