You may recall that I had reported this was a good year to see several of our winter visitors from farther north, especially shrikes, which have been seen on Audubon’s Christmas Bird Counts.

Following my New Year’s resolution to get out birding more often, I persuaded a friend to join me one bright, beautiful Saturday morning a few weeks ago. We decided to do the loop around the University of Maine cornfields. Even if we saw no birds, it would be a great way to get a good dose of sunshine as the trail is largely in the open.

At one point we cut across the middle of the field, which is bisected by a small wetland. I was thinking that all we were going to get was sunshine when I caught sight of a small bird perched at the tip of a large, bare shrub. It was still too far away for a definite identification, so we started across the snowy expanse, walking perpendicular to the line of wetland vegetation that contained the bird.

I was eager to see the bird, but conditions seemed to conspire against us. We were walking into the sunlight, and a cold, steadily increasing wind blew right into our faces. My eyes watered and tears streamed down my face as I strained to discern the bird against the glare and the wind’s assault.

Finally, we were able to maneuver into a better position, and there was no doubt it was a shrike we were looking at. Although its back was to us, the black-edged wings and black tail were giveaways; when it turned its head, I could just make out its thin, black-eye mask and the small hook on its beak. Its behavior was a tip-off as well; I love the description given by the “Birds of North America” species account: “Typically perched atop a tall tree or shrub, exposed in a lollipop-like silhouette surveying its world, the northern shrike appears innocuous and nonpredatory.”

Well, you’d expect a songbird to be nonpredatory, wouldn’t you? But the shrike is not just a songbird; it’s a songbird that preys on other songbirds, as well as small mammals, reptiles, amphibians, and insects. This duality gives the shrike some interesting characteristics, both physically and behaviorally.

The hooked beak is reminiscent of a raptor’s, but it lacks the large, powerful, and deadly talons of a true bird of prey. It has only ordinary songbird feet and claws – not very efficient for killing and dismembering its food. It will use its bill to kill its prey by biting the neck and severing the spinal cord. If the prey is large, it will impale it on the end of a sharp branch, thorns, or barbed wire, in this way making it easier to dismember and consume.

The shrike will also store many prey items in this way – by impaling them on sharp objects – and this has earned it the nickname “butcher bird.” It’s a benign moniker, especially when compared to the more grisly Nunamiut word, “Irigik” – meaning “eye extractor.”

Nature is not always pretty.

While I was pretty sure the bird we were looking at was a northern shrike, I wondered about its relative, the loggerhead shrike. Both are similar in appearance, but they can be told apart by small details. Also, the loggerhead shrike breeds much farther south – in fact, throughout most of the southern United States – than does the northern shrike, which breeds exclusively in the boreal regions of Canada and Alaska. According to the “Peterson Field Guide to Eastern Birds,” the loggerhead formerly bred in New England and the Maritimes; for unknown reasons, they are rare in this region now.

But you never know. There have been sightings of loggerhead shrikes in Maine – so it pays to be prepared. New Year’s Resolution No. 2: study my bird guides before going into the field!

NEWS bird columnist Chris Corio can be reached at bdnsports@bangordailynews.net