NEWPORT - Get ready for the annual fall migration frenzy. Over the next few weeks, peaking by the end of the month, thousands of winged animals will be flying through and over Newport headed south in retreat of the oncoming winter.

There's a good chance that if it flies, it migrates. While some species of bats, butterflies, dragonflies and even some spiders make the annual trek, it is the birds that are the real stars of migration. And while the peak isn't here yet, many migrants are in the region.

Veronica Hinds of the Norman Bird Sanctuary recently spied Common Nighthawks overhead. The nocturnal insect-eaters don't nest on the island. A fork-tailed flycatcher was seen around Richmond by birdwatchers last week, but has since left. It is a species that doesn't even nest in North America.

Birders watch for migrating birds at the Norman Bird Sanctuary during last Sunday's weekly bird walk.

Local naturalist Bob Weaver, along with fellow birdwatcher Dan Cinotti, a summer resident in Newport, have seen up to nine species of shorebirds in the wracks of seaweed along Ocean Drive. The shorebirds nested in the arctic and some will travel as far south as southern South America.

No one has yet unraveled all of the many mysteries of migration, such as when do the birds know when to migrate? How do they know where they are going? and how did they returned to the exact tree they were at the previous season? But birdwatchers do know where to go to see the flying migrants en route to the south.

As such, they congregate where the birds pass through, and this is at places like points of land, where land meets water. Because certain species of birds have phobias of water, they stall at these traps.

One spot to observe this phenomenon is at Brenton Point State Park. For a migrating bird, this is the end of the line on Aquidneck Island. Here are the island's last trees before the ocean starts. To the south is the North Atlantic (and eventually the island of Hispaniola, 1,500 miles to the south), to the west is Narragansett Bay and more water, Jamestown a mere vision on the horizon, and the birds don't want to go back north or east from where they came. So they bunch up at the park.

The bird flocks become confused and are not exactly sure what to do. To add to their woes, the swirling masses are harassed by attendant hawks waiting in ambush. They fly back and forth in panic. Finally the birds have to decide whether to grow the courage to either cross the water or hunker down amongst the wind-sculpted, kite-filled, trees at the park while waiting for the perfect time to move on.

"Brenton Park is a pretty good spot during migration," said Weaver, who has been watching nature on Aquidneck Island for six decades.

Tucked away in the trails of the park, behind the fenced-off remnants of horse stables, are the remnants of an old windmill that has been refurbished into an observation tower. From on top of the 30-foot tower, the observer is offered a unique perspective of the treetops. Until now, It has been a quiet spot. However, as more and more people are becoming aware of nature, the tower has seen more and more people.

From atop this tower another natural phenomenon can be seen during migration. Standing only a few yards from the tower is a grove of ailanthus trees. Also called tree-of-heaven, in places like New York, the trees have proliferated and are considered unwanted. While there are few ailanthus on this island, this particular grove is notable as it is the overnight resting spot for monarch butterflies in migration.

When days are favorable for movement, and the sun begins to heat things up in early-to-mid morning, an observer can watch hundreds of monarchs on the trees wake-up, stretch their wings a few times, and then flutter off to points south. Until they awake however, with their cryptic patterns, the butterflies are barely perceivable on the trees.

So for the next month or so, look up, something may be in the air flying south.

by Charles Avenengo