In March, before Redwings flaunt their epaulets, flocks of "RUSTIES" use the old Cottonwood by the bridge for a resting station. Chucking, creaking and wheedling, the night-travelers discus the trip until the early sun has warmed them. In a compact bunch they leave the tree and true to a point, head north up the valley. Males of a nesting colony among the alders on shores of Sebago Lake, Maine, had a conference-tree and their combined conversation was scarcely musical. On isolated perches toward the outer edge I heard males voicing a distinct and quite melodious song. There were always birds wading along the water margin, feeding on marine insects.
From Arctic coast and Alaskan shores of Bering Sea south along western edge of Great Plains to Gulf States.