Recently I received an e-mail from Mr. Sam Garwood of Old Town. He’d been birding on Poplar Street, which includes the causeway that passes near Mud Pond on the way to Pushaw Lake.

This road and the causeway is a wonderful place to bird, as it passes through the marshy margins of the surrounding wetland. It is also interspersed with drier, upland habitat, and this combination provides opportunities to view many different bird species.

While several types of birds are to be expected there, Mr. Garwood was surprised by the sight of two in particular.

The first he spotted a quarter mile from the eastern end of the causeway. It was sitting on a tree limb about 10 feet from the ground, near the road.

“It occasionally moved to another nearby limb, so I got several perspectives, including a clear view of the head area and the wing markings,” Garwood said.

What Mr. Garwood saw was a robin-sized bird that had deep, purple-blue plumage; wings that had two chestnut-colored wingbars; and a blunt, thick, and seemingly overly large beak.

A male blue grosbeak, and a true surprise; this isn’t a bird that is seen very often in this state. Its current breeding range limit is northern New Jersey to southeast N.Y., according to the “Birds of North America,” species account. However, stray sightings have been recorded as far north as southern Canada. Here in Maine, they are spotted about once every three years in the Bangor area, according to Maine Audubon’s Judy Markowsky.

It’s not surprising that Garwood saw the bird where he did; forest edges are the blue grosbeak’s preferred habitat-not only for foraging, but nesting as well. Nests are often placed low to the ground in a small tree or shrub, near a forest opening or road.

The blue grosbeak’s song is a long, rich warble, similar to that of the purple finch, which is pretty common in Maine. In the southern parts of its range, they may produce two broods per season, but actually very little is known of this bird’s life history and biology. This may be due to its relatively low numbers, according to the BNA. More observation and research on this bird is needed.

The second surprise greeted Garwood as he peered down into the shallow water below the causeway: a Virginia rail and her chicks, which “must have been no more than a day or two old,” Garwood said.

“The smallest was perhaps one and a half inches long, they looked like ping-pong sized balls of black fuzz; they could not even stand up, but sort of flopped and dragged themselves along, in and out of an area of shallow water, while the mother fed them tiny grubs and worms. I was able to hear a very tiny ‘peep’ from them now and then.”

Garwood had never seen this bird in the area before, but this was not surprising. Its name notwithstanding, Virginia rails do breed in Maine; however, they are so secretive they are rarely, if ever, seen. One needs to be in exactly the right place at the right time, as Garwood later confirmed.

“At the end of the 10 minutes, the mother herded the little ones to an area of thick brush; when I came back by the same spot half an hour later they were not to be seen or heard.”

If this marsh bird’s presence is detected at all, it is most often by sound. It has a number of very distinct vocalizations, ranging from a repeated, ‘tick-it, tick-it,’ call to a descending grunt that resembles laughter. It also has another call that Peterson’s “Birding by Ear,” guide represents phonetically as, “tick-tick-tick, McGreer.”

All rails have specialized features that allow them to move silently through thick, seemingly impenetrable wetland vegetation. They are, literally, thin. Their bodies are laterally compressed and their vertebrae are flexible, enabling them to melt from sight with the barest whisper.

Because these birds are so secretive and hard to observe within their dense habitat, much of their biology is also unknown. As with other bird species, degradation of habitat can be a large factor in this bird’s breeding success. The BNA also reports these birds (especially the young) are often struck by vehicles as they cross roads that bisect marshes.

Although widespread throughout their ranges, the majority of both of these birds’ lives remain a mystery to ornithologists. It’s a rare treat to see one, never mind both on the same day. In addition, the privileged view of rail family life is probably almost unheard of, and a rare gem.

Thanks to Mr. Garwood for sharing these sightings.

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