Return of the Chuck-Will's-Widows

They're back.  As I wrote a couple of years ago, Chuck-will's-widows are migratory nightjars that are present throughout the south during the spring and summer.  In my old exurb-that-became-a-suburb, they became less common and finally disappeared over the 20 years that I lived there.  Development pushed them out--they won't call from underneath a tree in a supermarket parking lot; they need large swaths of forest.

I now live again in a place where they sing throughout the spring, so all is well on that count.  One thing that has surprised me, however, is learning how spotty they can be, even in good habitat.  I can always hear them in the back of the house, but out in the front by the road, not so much (this is true even without traffic).  There are areas nearby that are teeming with them, and other areas nearby where they cannot be heard at all.

I don't know what their status as a species is: the Cornell University site cites data suggesting that their numbers may have declined 70% over the 50 years between 1966 and 2015.  In some areas they have been all but eliminated--such as my former neighborhood--but that population may have simply shifted elsewhere.  Tree cover in the Southeast may or may not be down...but it may well be that the type of cover they want is lower now than it was back in 1966.  Individual trees or small isolated copses won't get it done for them.

I'm glad they're in my new neighborhood.  I hope they stay.

Chuck-Will's-Widows

Chuck-will's-widows are nightjars that are present in the Southeast in the spring and summer months. They are insect feeders and have a repetitive call that can be heard from dusk until dawn; they call from the time they move into the area until about late June.  They show up in north Georgia in mid- to late April.  After mid June, they quiet down, raise their brood, then head back down south in the fall.  Although whip-poor-wills are better-known and supposedly include north Georgia as part of their summer range, I have never heard one.  Common nighthawks, another nightjar, are also allegedly in the area, but I haven't heard them here, either--ever.  I did, however, hear them in the early summer in east-central Illinois when I used to live there.

When I first moved to my house in the exurbs of Atlanta in the late 1990s, I heard chucks the first spring.  At the time, my subdivision was one of a few cut into the woods, so the surrounding area was mostly forested. Between my subdivision and the one immediately next to mine is a belt of large trees that weren't taken out--some are on the lots in my subdivision; some are in the next.  I used to sometimes have one there, possibly even on my property, on some nights.  I think I caught a glimpse of one at dusk one summer; it called for a few minutes from the ground inside the tree line, then abruptly stopped. I saw a large dark blur flying away.  Even if not in or next to my own yard, they were always nearby and plainly audible--usually a few could be heard at once, but almost always at least one.  I could usually hear them inside the house.  I asked friends what they might be and they suggested whip-poor-wills; I dug a little deeper and soon identified them as Chuck-will's-widows.

After about 2010, their nearness and numbers changed gradually.  A few years ago I realized that I didn't always hear them anymore.  Now I basically never do, because the area has gotten pretty well-developed. Several hundred acres of woods nearby have been turned into additional subdivisions, strip malls, and warehouses over the last couple of decades.  When I hear them at all here, it's mostly right when they are first coming into the area--presumably as they are heading toward summer nesting spots where their preferred habitat still exists.  This year, I heard one the morning of April 24th, some distance away, at 1 am when the dog decided she needed to go out.  The same thing happened last year: once in April, then basically never again for the rest of the season.

They are definitely coming back into Georgia now--the evening of April 27th, I was at a friend's house that's located in an area much like mine used to be--an isolated subdivision cut into the surrounding forest.  At 9 pm it was obvious they were everywhere.  I could hear several close by.  I can't help feeling a little wistful at their disappearance near my formerly exurban (now suburban) house, much like Sigrid Sanders noted in a column in 2009 (the link at the top of this page has a recording of their call; her column also has a link to a recording).

Development does push them out.  Forty years ago, they were probably common in Gwinnett County, but now probably are relatively rare there.  The same has now happened where I live.  It's not enough to have a little clutch of trees here and there--the spot behind my house where one used to occasionally reside has been unchanged since 2001 or so.  There have to be a lot of such places available nearby to support a population.  That's why I think I only hear them early in the season--they'll stop for a night in my neighborhood when first arriving, but they won't stay.  There aren't enough others here.

For now, if I want to hear them--and I do--I'll have to jump in the car and drive a ways--though not all that far.  I'm now in the suburbs, but the forest isn't far away.