a2 THE AUDUBONwWBULL Eel TiN 
Bird Notes from the 
Northwood 
| HAVE located a Parula warbler’s nest. They have just begun to 

build and the nest is so different in location, height and style from 
the one last year. This pair is hanging it from the under side of 
a limb several feet away from the trunk and it looks like an oriole’s 
nest. It is only a thin transparent shell but both birds get inside it 
at once to work and it holds them! 
The woods are exquisite—full of song and bird voices. Purple finches 
by the hundreds—and such beautiful rosy males! They seem so much 
redder here than at home! I have listed fifty-one species of birds in 
the short time I have had to spend on them since coming. When I 
go out I just walk down the paths, sit on a stump and let the birds 
come to me, 
The traps are unpacked and set, but no luck as yet. 
I have seen quite a few warblers, but the big migration seems to be 
passed—these are mating for the most part. The warblers I have seen 
are the black and white, oven bird, myrtle, magnolia, black throated 
green, Nashville, redstart, Blackburnian, Parula, Canadian and chest- 
nutsided. The humming birds are here and mating. A pair of winter 
wrens have a nest somewhere in a brush pile back of L.’s place. 
I have just finished banding a nest of seven baby house wrens which 
makes forty-six birds I have banded here. Mrs. O. banded eight while 
here, making a total of fifty-four for Outdoor Club Station, to date. 
I have a nest of Phoebes that must be banded in a’day or two and a 
nest of four catbirds. So my total ought surely to go well beyond the 
fifty mark which was my goal. Of course there are many other nests 
in prospect, but I have learned not to count too heavily on them as 
one never knows what may happen to them. 
I had a chestnutsided warbler nest in view with four lovely eggs in 
it. They were nearly incubated and coming fine when a cowbird tipped 
out two of the warbler eggs and laid in one of her own. The pair 
abandoned the nest. 
I found a winter wren’s nest and am expecting to band the babies. 
It was in an overhanging bank along the road. Where the turf curled 
over the edge of the bank the wren had made a neat nest of moss and 
tamarack twigs lined with chicken feathers. A few days after we found 
it and marked it, road workers scooped out the bank and we could not 
find the nest. The whole place looked so different and our mark was 
ploughed away. I mourned the loss of the nest and baby wrens. Four 
days later I passed the place and searched again. I found the nest— 
