You're funny. Warblers don't nest at this time of year. After a few visits to the same location, even if it covers a bit of ground that might take 20 minutes to walk across, you eventually develop an appreciation for the lay of the land so that time isn't wasted exploring unproductive sites. Also, there are two parameters that serve as a guide first thing in the morning. #1 is to seek-out the sunlit sites because the places still in deep shade are too dark to allow me to photograph anything that might be there. #2 is to listen carefully for the twitter of busy feeding warblers. If you here chickadees that can auger well too because other birds of greater interest are often keeping company with chickadees. If you here goldfinch then go elsewhere because I've never yet seen warblers hanging around with these guys.
The first place I check-out is right beside the side of the road (dead-end) where I park. Just steps from there is the brink of the bluff. At right angle to that brink is a stand of cedars that are about 20 feet high. There is a house right behind those grand cedars. The early morning sun baths these cedars is warm yellow light and warblers are often feeding here, mostly higher up but sometimes they venture lower. I even stand on a limestone boulder because I'm short-sighted. Even if I sense nothing is moving, or even if I here no sound at all, I still know that warblers will appear in a few minutes because there are quiet spells. Failing success at that initial spot, I commence slowly walking eastward keeping vigilant on a low-traffic trail near the edge of the bluff while listening for bird sounds, faint though they may be. The unused dirt trails are relatively free of intrusion. Bike riders and dog walkers use the paved Lakefront Trail thereby leaving me undisturbed, most of the time.
My peripheral vision is tuned to respond to the slightest movement, always looking behind me because the sun favours looking west. If there is nothing close to the bluff then I will walk across the open grass of the park heading north to the next tree and bush-line because it will be bathed in sunlight. North-facing trees and bushes are in the shade and therefore present a gloom that is too dark to shoot. I'm always listening and watching for movement, even from a distance. After a while you learn to ignore the sound of Song sparrows, goldfinches and cardinals. My ears perk if I hear a flycatcher, like the characteristic call of the Wood pewee that I heard during yesterday's walk before I eventually saw it atop a large sumac bush. When I get as far as the bridge that crosses the creek I turn around and patrol the return trip in the same way except then the sun is behind me. By about 9 o'clock, or perhaps a little later than that I find bird sightings diminish and by then it gets too warm for the clothing that I wore for the cold air experienced upon arrival.
