50 people lined up against a stone wall, facing the camera, in two rows, front row kneeling. Trees and blue sky in background.

words by Robyn Detterline

On Aug. 23, 51 birders met up to embark on another Sunday Morning Social at Humboldt Park. As folks mingled at the boathouse, the vibe was sunny as the day, and attendees anticipated seeing some Good Birds, like early fall warblers and late summer residents.

A field trip of this magnitude is difficult to capture in its entirety, as small groups broke off from time to time, but to this writer the day was off and running at Picnic Island, where a loud and persistent Gray Catbird meowed indignantly at another loud and persistent Gray Catbird across the Big Lagoon. The nature of their tiff indecipherable, our attention quickly wandered to the begging calls of a young cardinal and the dutiful papa shoveling tasty morsels into the youngster’s maw.

Across the way on Spooky Island, a Great Blue Heron stood sentinel while a waddling of Wood Ducks rested on the banks, and a lone Pied-billed Grebe paddled along, sizing up the lagoon and wondering what could be recommended from its menu.

Smallish slender bird with white underneath, black patches with white speckles across the wings, a black cap and a black band going backwards from a dark eye. The bill is short and sharp. Seen from underneath perched on a branch. — Downy Woodpecker. *Photo by Anney Grish, Humboldt Park, Aug. 23, 2026.*

The usual Humboldt delights sustained us along the walk, such as the young robins in their speckled boldness and the young Barn Swallows already mastering their acrobatic feats. A grumpy Downy Woodpecker couple foraged silently at eye-level, but eventually we persuaded the male to give his descending whinny for which he is famed.

On the east side of the Big Lagoon, a Ruby-throated Hummingbird bullied a charm of goldfinches minding their own business among the cup plants. Then, to equal parts confusion and delight, two Common Nighthawks were spotted sunlighting as rare Noonhawks.

Real hawks spotted on the walk included a sprightly Cooper’s Hawk and a large, intimidating adult red-tailed, the latter of which scared the bejesus out of an unsuspecting, but sharp and nimble, and at the time of our departure living, Mourning Dove. One beast that did not survive was the powdered donut writhing in the clutches of the park’s most capable hunter: the Eastern Gray Squirrel.

Side view of a small, brown mouse-like mammal with a large, round dark eye and oval rounded ears, nibbling on a white powdered donut, perched in a tree. — Eastern Gray Squirrel. Photo by Anney Grish, Humboldt Park, Aug. 23, 2026.

Early fall warblers showed up modestly, as they do in late August, but we were happy to (try to) see a few hyperactive American Restarts. The always handsome Black-and-white Warbler stopped by to steal the show. Some in our ranks—this writer not among them—spied a Canada Warbler. Oh, the joy of fall migration off and running.

By the end of our late morning jaunt, we had spied 32 species. Friends—avian, human, or otherwise—were made, and that magical time in which the twain of summer and autumn meet was satisfactorily explored.

Field Trip Recap: Humboldt Park Sunday Social