Swans and Swallows

Visiting the John Heinz Wildlife Refuge at Tinicum

The John Heinz Wildlife Refuge at Tinicum was created in 1972 by an act of Congress, inspired by local activists when a landfill and other plans by an oil company threatened the existence of the marshland along the Delaware River near Philadelphia Airport. Over fifty years later, it remains a hotspot to see migrating birds, and over three hundred species are spotted there yearly.

It is less than a half hour drive from my home, so I paid the toll at the bridge, followed the snaking Philly highways—which make New Jersey’s look organized—and visited the first Urban Wildlife Refuge in the United States. I found it bustling and busy on a Sunday morning, but managed to park and made my way along the trails to see what I could see.

Two Red-Bellied Turtles.

According to the National Park Service website, binoculars and fishing rods are available for free use at the visitor’s center, which is friendly and easy to access, with restrooms. Once you enter the trails, the only accommodations are benches, viewing platforms, and bird blinds.

The trails are well tended gravel or packed dirt, with boardwalks over the wet portions. Part of the marshland is left a mudflat for migrating birds in the fall, and part remains a pond for waterfowl and fishing, with both fresh and brackish sections. I met people fishing with children on the fresh stream side. The website says there are sturgeon in some parts, along with catfish, panfish, bass, and tiger musky, a hybrid between Northern Pike and muskellunge, the largest freshwater predator fish in North America. I caught a 45” stocked muskie with a guide in Greenwood Lake many years ago. They are known to eat waterfowl, of which there are plenty at John Heinz.

A Northern Cardinal avoiding the Tree Swallow Shenanigans

I didn’t keep a complete species count, but I saw Northern Cardinals, an American Coot, Mute Swans, Northern Shovelers, Ruddy Ducks, and Tree Swallows. There were also Red-Bellied Turtles sunning themselves on logs, and I found raccoon tracks in the mud along a stream bank. The website says there are River Otters here, but I imagine they live in a less conspicuous section. I only walked a few miles of trail, and there are over ten, so I’ll have to return with a bike to explore further.

The two highlights of the trip were complete opposites; there were at least five Mute Swans, peacefully paddling around and occasionally going bottoms-up for a nibble. Big and graceful, they are always a pleasure to watch. But more exciting were the Tree Swallows, which were in iridescent plumage and fighting over the houses on the water built for their nesting. They are migratory, and while they sometimes stay late here, swooping over water in autumn and eating mosquitoes, they leave for the winter.

I’m not sure if this was the breeding season, but they were quite aggressive with each other. From what I could tell they were mostly males, because the females are said to be brown on top and these all looked iridescent; I’m guessing that they were fighting over territory before the females migrated north. Whatever was happening, it was exciting to watch.

Tree Swallows Fighting in the Water

The nesting boxes are near the boardwalk, with benches so you can sit and watch the fun. The Swallows don’t seem to mind us at all; they are fast fliers, and probably regard us like we do the turtles: slow-moving features of the landscape. They were beautiful to watch through binoculars in the bright spring sun. Their speed makes them difficult to photograph, but the nesting boxes keep them in frame.

Tree Swallows Battling Over a Nesting Box

On the way back, the Swallows had moved on, but turtles took their place. And there was a lone American Coot by the boardwalk. According to eBird they are uncommon in this area for this time of year. I shared the picture in the earlier post this week. Spring is coming, and we’re in for a warm week. I saw my friend the Belted Kingfisher at Timber Creek, flying to various perches and calling; I wonder if he was calling for his mate. The water is low due to drought, but he’s returned to the spot I saw him last year. It makes me happy that I learned to recognize his call, and that I’ve learned to be patient and still enough that I can see him once I hear it. Eventually, I’ll get a picture, but seeing him is enough.