WTF Bird Encounter

I've decided I have a weird inner clock. Or maybe it's just that it's tuned to the year and not the day. In any case, this time of year I find myself springing (yes, I don't exaggerate) from bed as early as five A.M. looking for something to do. As I've discovered this is an excellent time to make ambient sound recordings since traffic is light and few others are about I've been visiting favorite haunts in order to capture the aural essence of summer to tide me over in the less sunny months to come.

This morning I headed out in the green thunderstorm light to Frautschi Point in the Lakeshore Nature Preserve only to find this on the street.



I presume it was a hawk of some sort and just assumed it's a Red-Tailed. Popping on the hazard lights and grabbing the camera I managed to take a few decidedly poor pictures of the scene. Sorry, but conditions were not ideal. Anyway, just adjacent to that stretch of road were two of these guys.



As I was sitting there watching, the crane decided to visit the raptor!



Curious? Warning? Dumb? I can only guess. In any case, the encounter apparently agitated both participants enough that one of them left.



On viewing this photo later, I had second thoughts about my Red-tailed Hawk identification/assumption. Hence, the WTF title of this post, meaning "Who's That Flying?" That's what it's always meant, right?

A Bird in the Hand

This morning I got to do something I've wanted to for some time now. I went up to the Biocore Prairie Bird Observatory to observe and help out, to the extent a novice can, with bird banding.

To catch the birds, nearly invisible nets are erected at points around the prairie. Birds captured in the nets get a small, lightweight band attached to their leg. This band carries a unique identifying number so in the event a bird is seen again, the data collected from the previous capture can be compared to its current condition. This data includes various measurements of its size, health condition and breeding/nesting indicators.



While the bird itself may not enjoy the data collection very much what with being kept in a paper bag and suffering the indignity of having its nether regions blown on with a straw, it's contributing to a body of knowledge that helps us understand the life cycles and statuses of different bird populations and their habitats.

Twitching

I'm a little embarassed to admit we went twitching today. Twitching is a birding term for traveling some distance just to get a look at a rare bird. I'm not crazy about the idea for a couple of reasons. First, it's not exactly ecologically sound to drive a great distance for something so frankly frivolous. Second, it can be harmful for a rare bird to be mobbed by eager birders anxious to get it on their life lists. Just last year, I believe it was, a Burrowing Owl lost it's life in the Chicago area because of too much attention.

Still, the co-conspirator and I didn't have any big plans today so we threw some optics in the car and took off for Wisconsin's East Coast to see a Black-legged Kittiwake (Rissa tridactyla.) It's a pretty little gull that has been present in the harbor at Port Washington for nearly a month.

We watched it sitting on the water.



We watched it flying around.





We watched it catch and eat a fish!



All this made us hungry so we stopped at a local Mexican restaurant and had lunch before returning home. So, I guess you could say we combined two activities into one trip.

Garden Hopes

I've gotten in the habit of going to the same set of trails to go hiking lately. While I like variety in the places I visit, it's also interesting to watch a single place change as the seasons pass. One of the views from the trail is this large community garden where I'm hoping to score a plot this coming season.



Looking at it now it can be hard to believe in a few months it will be a hotbed of people doing what we've been doing for millenia--working with the soil to bring forth something to eat. I look forward to chronicling my gardening adventures here. The place is called Eagle Heights. Today it lived up to that name. A little farther east I was treated to the sight of a couple of immature Bald Eagles flying over and then this one as I was getting to the gardens themselves.





Unfortunately it was headed away from me at a good clip so the pictures aren't as nice as they could be, but it was an exciting encounter anyway. I also found this imprint in the snow at about the same time. Something happened here involving a bird but I can't tell what. Maybe it was just making a snow angel for fun.

Frosty Prairie Morning

Contrary as ever, I've refused to completely readjust to the most recent time change. Getting to bed "earlier" lead to my own pursuit of old Ben's prescribed health, wealth and wisdom when I woke up equally early and decided to rise. Even though I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast I got to the prairie just after sunrise. There was frost on the ground and the sky was completely clear. I had barely stepped out of the car when I started hearing Sandhill Cranes calling from the direction of the marshes. Multiple flocks passed over, all heading north. Maybe it's really spring after all.



A lone hawk glided over, possibly in pursuit of his own breakfast, though if I were a rodent on the prairie this morning I would have been tempted to stay in the nest until it warmed up a bit.

Since I had gotten such an early start, I decided to walk all the way to the top of the hill that dominates the prairie. On the way I passed the area where I most often hear Ring-necked Pheasants crowing. This morning one of them was announcing his presence in the vicinity of this great old Bur Oak, but I never saw him.



From the top of the hill the view is wonderful--provided you can block out the suburban sprawl that wraps two sides of this tract. Looking south I could see the marshes where some cranes were still circling and calling.



And here, to the northwest I found where the cranes were headed. It's not spring after all. They were just flying to their own breakfast in a field of corn stubble.



I'm managing to love autumn--for the moment--and yesterday I resolved to try to love winter as well. It's not like I have any choice in their coming and going. And, like what I think of as the more comfortable seasons, there's still something wonderful to see if I take the time to look.

A Walk in the Neighborhood and Another Lifer

It's a bit of a stretch to say this morning's walk was actually in my neighborhood, but it's so close I like to think that it is. The weather wasn't the greatest at first, so the only halfway decent shots I got of some Common Loons (Gavia immer) are kind of on the dull side.



A half mile or so into the hike it actually got darker. Fortunately this White-throated Sparrow (Zonotrichia albocollis) was cooperative for a minute or two. I really like this species even though I associate them with autumn which is not my favorite season. Be sure you notice the distinctive yellow spots by the eyes. Once you start really looking at sparrows you realize they aren't just boring brown birds.



By the time I was on my way back the sun was coming out, thanks to the chilly south breeze that was blowing. It cleared up enough that I had no trouble seeing this Swainson's Thrush (Catharus ustulatus) when it hopped up on a log looking very alert.



Fortunately it was completely sunny and bright when I happened upon this trio. They are Horned Grebes (Podiceps auritus), a species I've not seen before. Wow! With the Surf Scoter (Melanitta perspicillata) I observed on the way to work one drizzly morning the other day that makes two "Lifers" in one week.

Woodpeckers

Last year the first cake of suet I put out for bird feeding disappeared in a matter of days. I was so glad to see that they were eating it that I bought several more so I wouldn't run out. The next cake hung untouched for weeks. Eventually I took all the suet to my parents. They live in the country and go through all kinds of bird food faster than I do. I suspect that the first cake may have been eaten by squirrels but I never witnessed them in the act.

Consequently, it wasn't until recently that I decided to try offering suet again. I put it in a standard cage feeder that I'd modified by adding a board at the bottom for a tail prop. Woodpeckers like having something to brace their tails against when they perch. I'm happy to report that in only a few days I saw the occasional Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atrocapillus) feeding on the top of the cake. Then I started noticing woodpeckers stopping by for a snack. First, we have a Downy Woodpecker (Picoides pubescens.) This one is a female. They lack the red spot on the back of the head that males of the species have.



Downy Woodpeckers are sometimes hard to distinguish from this species, the Hairy Woodpecker (Picoides villosus) which is a bit larger and has a noticeably longer bill. This one is a male with the bright red spots on the back of his head.



Finally and much to my delight I've seen a Red-bellied Woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) visit as well. This is probably one of my favorite local bird species.

A Fine Kettle

No, this isn't another cooking post. I'm embarrassed at how long it's taken me to post about what was the most spectacular North American bird phenomenon I observed this year. Every fall many hundreds of thousands of raptors--birds of prey--pack up and fly far south for the winter. Having such a long way to go, they conserve energy by soaring rather than flapping their wings. When they reach rising air currents either created by winds being deflected upward by land features or thermals generated by warm ground, they circle and circle upward and then break away again to glide southward until they reach another updraft. When a migrating hawk sees another riding the currents upward this way he thinks, "Hey! Looks like Harry got a good lift there. I'm going, too!" and joins in. Soon more birds are joining the party and it ends up looking like this:



This awesome formation is called a kettle. During an hour or so that there was the most action I conservatively estimate we saw between four and five hundred hawks. In this case they were Broad-winged Hawks (Buteo platypterus), distinguished by a wide white band on the underside of their tails, that were joined by a few Turkey Vultures (Cathartes aura.)




The location of this particular show was at Nelson Dewey State Park in the southwest corner of Wisconsin. Located on the bluffs above the Mississippi River the park provides some amazing views of the river valley and is something of a lesser known destination compared to Wyalusing State Park a little farther north. Either location is a great spot to stand around doing this (and having a sore neck for a few days after.)



Much farther north, at Duluth, Minnesota the fall hawk migration is even more spectacular. Raptors don't like crossing large bodies of water. So when the ones flying down from Canada encounter Lake Superior they turn and follow the shoreline west. The birds are concentrated in numbers as they pass by aptly named Hawk Ridge where it's common to see thousands of birds pass by in a single day. I've never witnessed it myself, but I hope to some day.

Not all the action was in the sky that weekend, either. Asters were in bloom everywhere signalling that autumn is truly upon us.



And this furry little caterpillar was seen several times.



And, finally, on one of the trails at Wyalusing we encountered this sad reminder. Even in the face of so many birds in one spot we know that if we're not careful, they really can all just go away for good.

Neighborhood Crows

I've been noticing a small flock of half a dozen or so crows roosting in the trees around my garden since we got back from vacation. They've been so quiet you wouldn't know they were there unless you noticed them flying in or specifically looked for them. The one on the right here must be a juvenile because it looked like the other one was feeding it something just before I took this image.

It's Boreal, not Boring!

Last week's camping trip took me to a really special biome, the boreal forest. It's a band of temperate forest just a few hours north of here and you can tell you're getting there when you start seeing fewer deciduous trees and more conifers. What's fun about entering a completely different biome is that you start to see different wildlife, too. For example, one encounters more species of warblers, only a few of which nest around my home. The Black-and-white Warbler (Mniotita varia), however, moves farther north in the summer and I normally only see them when they migrate through in spring and fall.



Around where I live we have mostly White-breasted Nuthatches (Sitta carolinensis) but in the boreal forest one sees more Red-breasted Nuthatches (S. canadensis) as well.



More boreal beauty to come!

Wildlife

Now that I'm back home from a week camping in the northwoods I really miss being outside all the time. Maybe some pics will come later, but for now here is a list of the cool mammals and birds I encountered:

Red Squirrel
River Otter
Flying Squirrel
White-tailed Deer
Black Bear
Coyote
Black Squirrel
Chipmunk

Olive-sided Flycatcher
Black-capped Chickadee
Cedar Waxwing
American Robin
White-throated Sparrow
Bald Eagle
Common Tern
Common Loon
Ring-billed Gull
Red-breasted Merganser
Gray Catbird
American Goldfinch
American Crow
Blue Jay
American Redstart
Downy Woodpecker
American Kestrel
Northern Flicker
Chestnut-sided Warbler
Ruby-throated Hummingbird
Canada Warbler
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker
Norther Harrier
Mourning Dove
Red-winged Blackbird
Indigo Bunting
Merlin
Least Sandpiper
American Woodcock
Red-eyed Vireo
Barred Owl (Heard)
Ruby-crowned Kinglet
Pine Warbler
Wild Turkey
Hermit Thrush
Eastern Wood Peewee
Veery
Barn Swallow
Osprey
Eastern Kingbird
Canada Goose
Connecticut Warbler
Great Blue Heron
Marsh Wren
Black-and-white Warbler
Brown Thrasher
Double-crested Cormorant
Song Sparrow
Hairy Woodpecker
Common Raven
White-winged Crossbill (Unsure)
Red-breasted Nuthatch
Yellow-rumped Warbler
Golden-winged Warbler
Chipping Sparrow
Common Yellowthroat

Picures or It Didn't Happen and How I Love the Redheads

If you're not familiar with the phrase "pictures or it didn't happen" you're easily forgiven. It's an annoying little meme but I find myself, whenever I have my camera in hand and a "special" bird comes on the scene feeling I need to document it. I guess it's my way of mentally inviting people along on my hikes and letting them judge my ability to identify a rarely-seen bird. Well, yesterday my co-conspirator and I had an amazing chance to observe Yellow-billed Cuckoos (Coccyzus americanus)apparently feeding a fledged juvenile and I'm happy to say the photos are lousy. What is not lousy, however is the clear image burned into my memory of one of the adults flying overhead (more than once!) showing its pure white underside and striking rufous primaries. You'll have to settle for this bad image of Junior and Mom or Dad making the takeoff.



In part two of our weekend of memorable birds--man, it's great to get out of town once in a while--I have a woodpecker to share. The Red-headed Woodpecker (Melanerpes erythrocephalus)is declining in numbers over much of its range. About a million years ago, when I was a kid on the farm (yes, barefoot) these were commonly seen on the wooden telephone poles that lined our unpaved road (did I mention the bare feet?) and because of their unique coloration were one of the first birds I learned to recognize. Last year I glimpsed one flying over the highway as I was leaving the city and it was then I realized I couldn't remember seeing one in decades. Today CC and I stopped at a restored oak savanna and saw at least a couple of them flying around. We also heard a Bobwhite Quail calling but didn't see it. But here's the woodpecker, a picture to prove it happened.

They Didn't Even Say Goodbye

After weeks of watching the pair of House Wrens popping in and out of their cigar box home they have quite literally flown the coop. Or so I hope. Two days ago I noticed that the front had fallen off the house--it is just a modified cigar box, after all. When I replaced it I had an excuse to look inside and found three little Wrens looking, at least to me, like they were about ready to fledge. This evening, for the second day in a row, we were treated to the spectacle of the local American Robins mobbing what I believe was a Cooper's Hawk. They were raising a ruckus and chasing it off to another block to be another group of Robins' problem. That's when I noticed the absence of the Wrens' constant chattering and singing. At first we thought it might just be that they were laying low until the Hawk was definitely gone. But now, a couple hours later, it's still very quiet out there. I opened the front of the box and found only a nest and some feathers inside. I hope the little wrens are somewhere being cared for by their parents and that maybe Mom and Dad will be back to raise another brood. Honestly, an occupied birdhouse is better than television.

Way Better Than Church

I wish I could spend every Sunday morning like I did yesterday. I visited Cherokee Marsh for the first time in quite a while and had an extremely relaxing and renewing walk. Maybe the world would be a better place if more people spent some time every week out in nature rather than cooped up in some building listening to a bunch of stories about how bad they are.

One of the first birds I saw was an Indigo Bunting (Passerina cyanea) nearly overhead.



Farther along, after seeing some Common Yellowthroats (Geothlypsis trichas) I spooked a frog who jumped out of sight right after I took its picture. I guess it was shy.



Passing through the oak trees on my way to the boardwalk I came upon an Eastern Wood Peewee (Contopus virens) singing its whiny call.



Down at the water I found most of the boardwalk has been destroyed so making that loop was out of the question. Red-winged Blackbirds (Agelaius phoenicius) were abundant and vocal.



Looping back through the woods to reach the other end of the boardwalk and the observation platform I ran into this little bigmouth, or I guess I should say bigbeak. He's a House Wren (Troglodytes aedon) just like the ones in my back yard.



Only a few yards off the observation platform a pair of Sandhill Cranes (Grus canadensis) flew in and stood around in the tall grass. They must have been pretty tired. This one yawned a lot and I watched it nod off several times.



In a nearby tree a Yellow Warbler (Dendroica petechia) was singing loudly. This is one of only a few warbler species that nest this far south. Most of them just pass through on their way to the northern forests for the summer so one has to get out at the right time to see them.



I have a hard time with sparrow identification, but I'm pretty sure this is a Swamp Sparrow (Melospiza georgiana.)



Heading back to the car I could hear several Red-eyed Vireos (Vireo olivaceous) singing their distinctive song. This one was generous enough to come down a little lower and pose for a picture.



To make the church-alternative complete I went to a good friend's home for breakfast. Waffles and orange juice--now that's my kind of Communion!