They're Here!

They're here. But, honestly, they haven't been too bad yet. Normally spring, the brief season of comfortable temperatures and bug-free outdoorsing is suddenly immolated in the sticky, sweltering mess that is summer. Not so this year, at least in my yard. Instead I've been swatting at some weird little flies I haven't seen before. Maybe they've been eating the mosquitoes. One can only hope.

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 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.

A Morning Walk

What Big Eyes You Have!

We had a little visitor at one of our campsites last week. To mimic some semblance of civilization through running water we hang a Camelback water pouch on a tree. When the Co-conspirator was going for an evening toothbrushing we discovered this nocturnal forest dweller clinging to the strap.



It's a Northern Flying Squirrel (Glaucomys sabrinus.) It's a completely nocturnal rodent that few people see. I believe I've seen the southern species in our neighborhood briefly silhouetted against the light as it leapt from one branch to another. It's shape is distinctive looking sort of like a square kite with squirrel limbs, tail and head. Flying squirrels don't actually fly, but rather glide on the folds of skin that run between their front and hind limbs.



This one was so intent on licking the strap it didn't seem to mind us standing right near it and talking about it. We think it was drawn to the salt on the fabric. It didn't leave until I tripped on a root and made a sudden move.

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

Pupa

I found this little treasure when I was moving some plants around in the garden today. It's now nestled in a pot of soil in one of my small conservatories. When it emerges I'll be able to see what it is. I love doing things like this. I once found one much larger than this which turned out to be a beautiful, big hawk moth.

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!

Looking and Seeing

Last year I learned of the Pheasant Branch Conservancy. It's close to my office so it's a convenient place to stop and bird or hike or just hang out before or after work or over lunch. I especially enjoy taking my lunch to one of a couple of areas overlooking the prairies and listening to the sparrows and other birds while I eat. It's a great way to forget for a time what I have to deal with back at the salt mines. Right now the Chipping Sparrows (Spizella passerina) seem particularly "present" at one of these spots. They're one of my favorite birds, proving that a close-up look at what we often mistake for "little brown jobs" reveals they are really quite pretty.

I was going to continue this post with some observations of the highly degraded condition of parts of this conservancy, but I just don't feel like dwelling on the negatives right now. Instead I'll let that simmer in the background and share a couple more images of wonderful birds that briefly visit on their way through to their breeding grounds at this time of year.

It's Quiet Out There

I went for a walk on Sunday, finally. It felt like ages since I've been outside except to go to and from the car at home and work. Not pleasant. The destination I chose was a county park I'd never been to before that had all the indicators of a place that would be empty. It's small, it doesn't have any amenities and it's not located close to any cities. It turned out to be a great choice.

Walking the trails the only sounds I heard were the thick layer of oak leaves crunching underfoot and distant farm machinery and highway traffic. Nothing obtrusive. Birds were really scarce. Except for a Downy Woodpecker and a couple of White-breasted Nuthatches working the same tree I didn't see much. It's Quiet out there. I actually heard the sparse dusting of dry snowflakes falling before I saw them.

At the top of a hill there was an open field and at its edge were some redcedars. One in particular was thick with blue berries that looked unreal next to the green and purple needles.

A Grand Day Out

Holiday weekends are a time to relax, unwind and enjoy. I did that yesterday. I got a little stir-crazy. Today the co-conspirator and I hit the road for a grand day of hiking, birding and geocaching and now I'm pooped.

Our trip began at Governor Dodge State Park where no sooner than we had parked to discuss our first hike than the trees adjacent to the parking lot were alive with migrating warblers. It being the case that I suck at identifying any but the easy ones I'll just say they were the yellow and white ones. That should cover it.

Eventually we hiked a multi-mile trail to reach a cache high atop one of the rock formations in the park. It didn't look that high or that far from the distance, but apparently I'm not accustomed to either the heat or inadequate breakfasts or both. On the way we did see a Black-and-White Warbler--one I can actually identify.

A couple of cool but macabre sights were encountered on our hikes as well. Here is some sort of bug preying on a monarch butterfly caterpillar. I always check out milkweed plants for monarchs when I find them. I loved finding chrysalids and caterpillars when I was a kid and every time we'd pick the pods and release the seeds my mom would tell me how she collected them for stuffing in life jackets or some such thing during World War II. The other sad sight was a dead bird. In the middle of a trail we found some kind of flycatcher. It was incredible how tiny it was. Living and sitting on a branch they don't look nearly as small; the body was maybe only three inches long and it weighed next to nothing. It was a horse trail so I moved it into the weeds off the trail where it wouldn't be trampled. Poor little thing.

At one point the trail came right next to Twin Valley Lake and there was a Double-Crested Cormorant perching on a dead tree hanging over the water. It's not a spectacular or rare bird, but we spent some time looking at it and taking a few photos. I'm really thinking about getting some kind of digital camera/spotting scope combo or something easily portable. The problem, I suppose, with any hand-held solution would be holding it steady. There's not always a handy tree to brace against.

On the way home we swung by Spring Green for a late lunch at Culver's and to check out the wader/shorebird situation there. Why has Spring Green become a birdwatcher's destination? Because since the flooding way back in June way too many fields and front yards are still under water. I don't understand why; I thought the whole area was essentially sand. It's un-fricking-believeable. At one moment we're looking at a shallow lake bordered by stunted, ruined corn and a short drive down the road there's one of the healthiest looking crops of corn I've seen.

The Big Two-Oh-Oh!

I did it. I got my 200th bird.

The sighting was sudden and unexpected, as I should have expected it to be. There we were last week on vacation in Oregon. I had rung up birds 195 through 199 pretty handily during the earlier part of the week. We were in what looked like a lovely meadow but which turned out to be a deeply fissured field of clay where walking was treacherous. Suddenly I caught a flash of red feathers in the dead trees at the edge of the meadow. (Pictured here sans bird) At first glance I thought it was a Purple Finch but as soon as I got my binoculars on it I could see it was too big and had a distinctive beak. It was a Red Crossbill. There were at least two at first but only one hung around long enough for my co-conspirator to confirm my identification.

Among the new Life List birds I added in Oregon were two especially cool species. One was found and identified when we crawled into a thicket to try to retrieve a cache that was blocked on the better side by the presence of other humans. Standing up in the thicket I was literally face to beak with a pair of very vocal and aggitated Wrentits! I took a quick look and got out of there quickly. The other especially interesting sighting was an American Dipper. It was bobbing around on the rocks in the Wilson River just upstream from the Tillamook Forest Center. We were able to watch it for a while as it moved from rock to rock and eventually into the stream where it caught something large and wriggling.

So, now what? I suppose I could set a new goal of 300. Doubtless if I keep up with the birding I'll reach that eventually. Maybe I'll make that the secondary goal as the 200 was, in all honestly, all along. For now the main goal will be just to get out and see as much of everything as I can.