Coping with a Late Spring

While the gulls arrived some days ago, the shorebirds have arrived more recently. And there’s a problem. Their habitat is still frozen. It’s been interesting to see how the birds coped – or failed to cope – with the adverse conditions.

Bonaparte’s Gulls, the black-headed gull of Interior Alaska, are surface feeders, bobbing on the surface of the water and delicately dabbing at emerging insects. But there’s a problem. Ponds are still frozen. This Bonaparte’s coped with the problem this way:

Bonaparte’s Gull Ice Fishing

If you look carefully, you can see that he has punched a series of holes in the ice, using his feet and his bill, to get at prey under the ice. You can see the series of four fishing holes behind him. It helped that the ice was only a quarter inch thick or so. An interesting and apparently successful strategy.

Long-billed Dowitchers under ordinary conditions look a bit like sewing machines, their heads rapidly going up and down, probing with their long bills in the soft mud of the shore for prey. The problem for the Dowitchers is that ground is still frozen about half an inch down. This fellow coped with the challenge by adopting a strategy used by sandpipers: pond scum sucking.

Long-billed Dowitcher Sucking Scum

Readers may recall that pond scum is surprisingly nutritious. It’s a primary food source for Sandpipers. The much larger Dowitcher can apparently make do with the alternate food, too. Actually, Dowitchers are much too handsome to make do with this rather plain view. Here’s a better shot of one of Alaska’s prettiest shorebirds.

Long-billed Dowitcher in Breeding Plumage

The Whimbrel, a slightly larger shorebird with an even longer, more specialized bill, probes even deeper into the shoreline mud than the Dowitcher. Whether because its bill won’t let it, or because there isn’t enough energy to make it worthwhile, the Wimbrels weren’t sucking scum. Most, as this fellow, were wandering somewhat disconsolately across the solid ice, probing occasionally, and somewhat half-heartedly, at stuff blown out onto the surface.

Whimbrel on Ice

The Whimbrels were being surprisingly territorial over their chosen ice areas, so perhaps there was some kind of food out there. But it can’t have been their usual diet.

WC has no idea whether the late spring will affect shorebird survival, reproduction success or populations. We may not know for a couple of years. It’s not like we get any of these species on Christmas Bird Counts. But it’s unlikely to be good news.

(All photos May 19 and 20, 2013)

The Birdist: State Birds: What They SHOULD Be

WC offers a guest blog today, full of Bird Nerd jokes and sarcasm from The Birdist. Used with permission (thanks, Nick Lund).

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I drove over a bridge from Maryland into Virginia today and on the big “Welcome to Virginia” sign was an image of their state bird, the Northern Cardinal – with a yellow bill.  I should have scoffed – another Birds at Large on tap! – but it hardly registered.  Everyone knows that state birds are a big damn joke.  There are a million Cardinals, a scattering a Robins, and just a general lack of thought being put into the whole thing.

States should have to put more thought into their state bird than I put into picking my socks in the morning.  “Ugh, state bird?  I dunno, what’re the guys next to us doing?  Cardinal?  OK, let’s do that too.  Yeah put it on all the signs.  Nah no time to research the bill color let’s just go.”  It’s the official state bird!  Well, since all these jackanape states are too busy passing laws requiring everyone to own guns or whatever to consider what their state bird should be, I guess I’ll have to do it.

1. Alabama.  Official state bird: Yellowhammer.  

Right out of the gate with this thing.  Yellowhammer?  C’mon.  I Asked Jeeves and it told me that Yellowhammer is some backwoods name for a Yellow-shafted Flicker.  Sorry, but that’s dumb.  If you want a woodpecker, go for something with a little more cache, something that’s at least a full species.

What it should be: Red-cockaded Woodpecker

2. Alaska. Official state bird: Willow Ptarmigan

Willow Ptarmigans are the dumbest sounding birds on earth, sorry.  They sound like rejected Star Wars aliens, angrily standing outside the Mos Eisley cantina because their ID’s were rejected.  Why go with these dopes, Alaska, when you’re the best state to see the most awesome falcon on earth?

What it should be: Gyrfalcon

3. Arizona.  Official state bird: Cactus Wren

Cactus Wren is like the only boring bird in the entire state.  I can’t believe it.

What it should be: Red-faced Warbler

4. Arkansas.  Official state bird: Northern Mockingbird

Christ.  What makes this even less funny is that there are like 8 other states with Mockingbird as their official bird.  I’m convinced that the guy whose job it was to report to the state’s legislature on what the official bird should be forgot until the day it was due and he was in line for a breakfast sandwich at Burger King.  In a panic he walked outside and selected the first bird he could find, a dirty Mockingbird singing its stupid head off on top of a dumpster.

What it should be: Painted Bunting

5. California.  Official state bird: California Quail

…Or the largest most radical bird on the continent?

What it should be: California Condor

6. Colorado.  Official state bird: Lark Bunting

I’m actually OK with this.  A nice choice.  But why not go with the only bird that is (or is pretty much) endemic in your state?

What it should be: Brown-capped Rosy-finch or Gunnison Sage-grouse

7.  Connecticut.  Official state bird: American Robin

Look, this isn’t even that hard.  American Robin is American, not special to Connecticut at all.  Is there perhaps another choice?  One that inspires some more local pride?

What it should be: Connecticut Warbler

8. Delaware.  Official state bird: Blue Hen chicken

You know what? I’m not so mad about this.  Whatever, it seems to have some connection to you, even though “blue chicken” plugged into a thesaurus means “sad wuss.”

What it should be: Red Knot

9. Florida.  Official state bird: Northern Mockingbird

I am finishing this post the next day because I had to go buy a new computer after I threw my last one out the window when I read that Florida’s state bird was the Northern Mockingbird.  I cannot think of a lamer choice.  What’s their state beverage, A Half Glass of Warm Tapwater?

What it should be: American Flamingo

10.  Georgia.  Official state bird: Brown Thrasher

I’ve always liked this.  Way to go, Georgia.

What it should be: Brown Thrasher

11. Hawaii.  Official state bird: Nene

No, not this Nene.  Not this one either.  This one.

What it should be: Nene (the goose)

12. Idaho.  Official state bird: Mountain Bluebird

Deal.

What it should be: Mountain Bluebird

13.  Illinois.  Official state bird: Northern Cardinal

You know how parents say that thing, “if everybody can’t have it, then NOBODY can have it”?  Well, I’m doing that for cardinal.  No one gets the cardinal.  Screw cardinals.

What it should be: Greater Prairie-chicken

14. Indiana.  Official state bird: Northern Cardinal

See above.

What it should be: Bobolink

15. Iowa.  Official state bird: Eastern Goldfinch

Eastern Goldfinch?  That’s not even a thing.

What it should be: Dickcissel

16. Kansas.  Official state bird: Western Meadowlark

OK, but I’m only allowing one.

What it should be: Western Meadowlark

17. Kentucky.  Official state bird: Northern Cardinal

[urge to kill: rising]

What it should be: Kentucky Warbler

18. Louisiana.  Official state bird: Brown Pelican

Yes.  The best fit of all.  If I had beads I’d throw them to you, Louisiana.  Note: I could go Louisiana Waterthrush here, but no one thinks of Louisiana when they think of Louisiana Waterthrush, so, whatever.

What it should be: Brown Pelican

19. Maine.  Official state bird: Black-capped Chickadee

Ah, my beloved home state.  I couldn’t imagine it any other bird.

What it should be: Black-capped Chickadee

20. Maryland.  Official state bird: Baltimore Oriole

YOU WIN

What it should be: Baltimore Oriole

21. Massachusetts.  Official state bird: Black-capped Chickadee

Screw you, Taxachusetts.  Maine wins.

What it should be: Piping Plover

22. Michigan.  Official state bird: American Robin

The most endangered bird in the nation lives ONLY (pretty much) in your state!  Don’t you want tourists and pride and crap?  Uggghhhh.

What it should be: Kirtland’s Warbler

23. Minnesota.  Official state bird: Common Loon

Alright that works.

What it should be: Common Loon.

24. Mississippi.  Official state bird: Northern Mockingbird

Oh for God’s sake.  There’s an awesome bird named after you!  NAMED AFTER YOU!

What it should be: Mississippi Kite

25. Missouri.  Official state bird: Eastern Bluebird

Lame, but I don’t know what else would be better.

What it should be: Eastern Bluebird

26. Montana.  Official state bird: Western Meadowlark

No.

What it should be: McCown’s Longspur

27. Nebraska.  Official state bird: Western Meadowlark

NO.

What it should be: Sandhill Crane

28. Nevada.  Official state bird: Mountain Bluebird

Look, Nevada, you’re insane.  You should have a bird that also represents what a zany, mixed-up world this is.

What it should be: Himalayan Snowcock

29. New Hampshire.  Official state bird: Purple Finch

OK just go with it.

What it should be: Purple Finch

30. New Jersey.  Official state bird: Eastern Goldfinch

Are you serious?  Another outdated name?  Come on, Jersey.  You’ve got a fine birding reputation, and you’re better than this.

What it should be: Seaside Sparrow

31. New Mexico.  Official state bird: Greater Roadrunner

Deal!

What it should be: Greater Roadrunner

32.  New York.  Official state bird: Eastern Bluebird

Lame.

What it should be: Cerulean Warbler

33. North Carolina.  Official state bird: Northern Cardinal

More like Bore-thern Cardinal.

What it should be: Carolina Chickadee

34. North Dakota.  Official state bird: Western Meadowlark

Was Western Meadowlark the official state bird of the entire Louisiana Purchase and they just kept if after becoming states?

What it should be: Chestnut-collared Longspur

35. Ohio.  Official state bird: Northern Cardinal

Uuggghhhhhhh the wooorrrssssttt

What it should be: Indigo Bunting

36. Oklahoma.  Official state bird: Scissor-tailed Flycatcher

Hell yeah!  Nailed it!

What it should be: Scissor-tailed Flycatcher

37. Oregon. Official state bird: Western Meadowlark

STOP IT WITH THE MEADOWLARKS.  I’m resisting the temptation for Oregon Junco here, in favor of something that would never happen.

What it should be: Northern Spotted Owl.

38. Pennsylvania.  Official state bird: Ruffed Grouse

I like it.

What it should be: Ruffed Grouse

39. Rhode Island.  Official state bird: Rhode Island Red Chicken

Hahaha Rhode Island you so crazy

What it should be: Bee Hummingbird haha j/k!  Rhode Island Red Chicken

40. South Carolina.  Official state bird: Carolina Wren

Okay.  Thank you.

What it should be: Carolina Wren

41. South Dakota.  Official state bird: Ring-necked Pheasant

An exotic.  You’re kidding me.  Is your state meal General Tso’s chicken?  Is your state hat the sombrero?  Is your state anthem the DAMN CANADIAN NATIONAL ANTHEM?

What it should be: Sharp-tailed Grouse

42. Tennessee.  Official state bird: Northern Mockingbird

What is it with Mockingbirds?  I DO NOT understand.  They are garbage birds that eat dumpster trash!  Is that what you want to identify with, Tennessee?

What it should be: Tennessee Warbler

43. Texas.  Official state bird: Northern Mockingbird

Sometimes – after a nice full day, perhaps spent in the company of loved ones – one can forget that the world is a cold, uncaring place full of death and sadness.  Thanks, Texas, the birdiest state in the entire country, for reminding me that this civilization we’ve built and work our fingers to the bone trying to perfect is as meaningless as a sand castle in the tide.

What it should be: any other fucking bird in the country other than Northern Mockingbird.  Roseate Spoonbill?  Golden-cheeked Warbler?  Swainson’s Hawk?  Aplomado Falcon?  Anything.

44. Utah. Official state bird: California Gull

You named your official state bird after a bird named for a DIFFERENT state?  That is the most pathetic thing I have ever heard.

What it should be: Burrowing Owl

45. Vermont.  Official state bird: Hermit Thrush

Fine.  Thank you for restoring sanity, Vermont.

What it should be.  Hermit Thrush

46. Virginia. Official state bird: Northern Cardinal

Just when I think I’m out they suck me right back in.  Shut up, Virginia.

What it should be: Barred Owl

47.  Washington.  Official state bird: Willow Goldfinch

What is going onnnnnnnn????  Nobody can get the damn goldfinch right!

What it should be: Glaucous-winged Gull

48. West Virginia. Official state bird: Northern Cardinal

West Virginia I am so mad at your right now I could explode.

What it should be: Swainson’s Warbler

49. Wisconsin.  Official state bird: American Robin

I’m too tired to be mad.

What it should be: Golden-winged Warbler

50.  Wyoming.  Official state bird: Western Meadowlark

I hate you.

What it should be: Greater Sage-grouse

Final Thoughts: This has been the most depressing post I have ever put together.  Three robins but no Blue Jay?  Seven cardinals but no owls or hawks?  Five goddamn mockingbirds?  This is what we pay taxes for, folks.

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Depressing to write, perhaps, but a damn fine blog post to read. At least for Bird Nerds. Thanks again for permission to use your post.

The Late Spring Is More Than Just Depressing

The migratory songbirds, the Passerines, have arrived. And they are dying by the thousands, a victim of Interior Alaska’s non-spring. If you’re a birder, it’s a real bummer.

If you are like WC, you have complained about the weather. Snow – a blizzard, really – on Friday night. And Saturday afternoon it might have been 30 degrees. But if you are a songbird, it’s a lot more than depressing. It’s death.

Imagine being a Hammond’s Flycatcher, an early-arriving, bug-eating bird.

Hammond’s Flycatcher, May 18, 2013

But because of the late spring, there are no bugs. It’s tough times for flycatchers. WC saw 20 or more grubbing for food along a neighborhood road.

Why should you care? Even if you don’t care very much about birds, WC doubts you are fond of mosquitoes. Fewer fly catching bugs means more mosquitoes. And mosquitoes around longer. This weekend’s blizzard and our glacial spring will have consequences all summer and, depending upon how badly reproduction is impaired, perhaps for more than one summer.

The birds who are generalists are doing better. Thrushes, the family of birds that includes the American Robin, are omnivores.

Swainson’s Thrush, May 18, 2013

A Swainson’s Thrush can eat last fall’s berries and rose hips, seeds and even spring buds, as well as do some clumsy fly catching. Despite its generalist strategy, Swainson’s Thrushes seem to be in decline throughout the boreal forest, including Alaska. Birds of North America (pay wall) reports, “Swainson’s Thrush populations declined in North America at a small annual rate (0.8%/yr) during 1980–1996. In some regions, trends for last 17 yr have reversed from increases in earlier decades.” It may be caused by habitat loss in the migration corridor.

As WC writes this post, there are reports from across the Interior of thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of dead migratory songbirds. Swallows, another insect-eating family of birds, and sparrows, that rely upon snow-free ground to forage for food, seem to be especially hard hit.

So as we whine about the late spring, and being short-sheeted on summer, have a thought for our feathered friends.

Sharp-tailed Grouse Video

Shot by Mrs. WC, using a Canon SX-50 point and shoot camera.

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Unfortunately, the sound of WC’s camera shutter drowns out the subtle sounds the male makes as he performs his dance.

One other note: the dancing is incredibly hard work. You can see the male panting between episodes. Which may be one of the reasons females use dance performance to pick their mates.

Odd Spring; Rare Birds

WC has no idea if there is some correlation between our strange, delayed, on again/off again spring and the rare birds turning up in Interior Alaska. But there are certainly rare birds around.

Swainson’s Hawk, Delta Barley Project

This Swainson’s Hawk (originally misidentified as a Red-tailed Hawk) was along Barley Way, southeast of Delta Junction on May 5. WC actually saw and photographed this bird twice. Swainson’s Hawk, a bird of the Great Plains and Rockies, is rare in Alaska. The species is highly variable; this is a dark morph. But you can see the wing tips extend beyond the tail, the white undertail coverts and the white mustache and nares make a certain identification.

Another, different Swainson’s Hawk turned up in Fairbanks recently and has been hanging around the south side of Fairbanks International Airport.

Swainson’s Hawk, Fairbanks International Airport

This photo was taken with WC’s point-and-shoot camera, a Canon SX-50. It has a pretty powerful telephoto and while the image quality isn’t on a par with the Canon 1D-X, it’s perfectly acceptable for documenting birds. You can see that this is a different bird, lacking the white edges on the chest feathers. Which means at least two Swainson’s Hawks in Alaska.

Finally, while Tundra Swans are pretty common, the Bewick’s Swan, the Eurasian race of Tundra Swans, are rare.

Bewick’s Swan, Barley Way

The field mark for Bewick’s is that large yellow patch on the upper bill. The Tundra Swans we see around here have a small yellow eye drop; the Bewick’s has a big yellow blotch. Note that this photo is a very heavy crop, 15% of full frame; there’s some detail lost.

Readers may remember that a Eurasian Wigeon and leucistic Canada Goose were here earlier.

WC suspects that even as he writes this post there are some hard core listers who are buying tickets for a trip to “get” these birds for their life lists. WC isn’t much of a chaser, although he does keep a life list. Still, it’s pretty cool… No, that’s a poor choice of words for this freezing cold spring. Let’s say instead it’s a delight to find these rarities.

The Location of the Sharp-tailed Grouse Lek

Several of you have emailed WC, asking for the location of the Sharp-tailed Grouse lek. WC thought his post this morning was pretty clear about this: it’s pretty easy to disturb a lek. And when disturbed, the males take their act elsewhere. So, sorry but no.

But WC will go so far as to offer a photo taken by Mrs. WC, showing the location of the lek at one point was on the hood of the pickup.

Classy Hood Ornament

And that WC had doughnuts for breakfast.[1]

Identifying the location of the lek area, as seen through the windshield, is left as an exercise for the reader.

[1] And in the words of Peter Mulvey, “The windshields in this town have all seen better days.”

Hey, Baby! a/k/a Strong Lekker

It’s not appropriate to anthropomorphize birds. There’s not a lot of room in that peanut-sized brain for deep thoughts.But WC, photographing Sharp-tailed Grouse at a lek near Delta Junction, imagines the male’s thoughts going something like this.

Sharp-tailed Grouse Male – Any Females Around?

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I’ll start to display, just in case

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A female! A female! Watch this, Baby!

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The Full Monty

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How come you’re walking away?

These are five of perhaps 300 photos WC took at the lek. After giggling helplessly for a couple of minutes at the incredible antics. All were taken using the truck as a blind. The secret, of course, is finding a Sharp-tailed Grouse lek. Can you keep a secret? So can WC.

Rapt(ors)

It’s been a particularly fine spring migration for raptors, with all of the resident and regular transients present in substantial numbers.

Rough-legged Hawk

As WC has noted before, Rough-legged Hawks don’t breed in Interior Alaska, but pass through the Interior en route to the foothills of the North Slope. The numbers of Rough-leggeds moving through the Interior this spring were the highest in WC’s memory.

Rough-legged Hawk Stooping on Prey

By contrast, Red-tailed Hawks do breed in the Interior. Their densities are low, but a nest or two can usually be found around Fairbanks. Red-tails are variable colored. The most common is the dark phase, called a Harlan’s Hawk (they were originally thought to be a separate species). UPDATE: This, however, is a rarity, a Swainson’s Hawk.

Swainson’s Hawk, dark phase, Barley Way, Delta

There are four species of Falcons in Interior Alaska. One of them is the Merlin. This bird has prey, specifically a Lesser Yellowlegs. It’s hidden in this shot.

Merlin on Prey

There were a lot of Northern Harriers around, and this guy was very worried one of those big birds would take his prize away, so he flew off, with the long yellow legs of his prey dangling below.

Merlin with Lesser Yellowlegs

To give you some idea of the strength of this little Falcon, the Yellowlegs weighs about half the weight of the Merlin, 2.8 ounces against 6.0 ounces.

In addition to the species shown here, on Thursday night, May 9, we also saw American Kestrels, Peregrine Falcons, Bald Eagles, Short-eared Owls and Northern Harriers. And more than ten thousand Sandhill Cranes. It’s enough to leave even a non-birder rapt.

Jackpot!

There aren’t many moments in WC’s birding career that he can describe as epic. But Sunday night in the barley and hay fields southeast of Delta Junction was one of them. It started in the morning with long lines of Trumpeter and Tundra Swans flying in from the Tanana River.

Lines of Swans Against a Dark Sky

If you look carefully, you can see multiple lines of swans flying in from the North, presumably after spending the night on the Tanana River.  The birds settled on a barley field.

Trumpeter and Tundra Swans Foraging

Why so many birds in one field among the dozens of mowed fields in the area? WC has no idea. But the field also held Greater White-fronted Geese, Canada Geese, Sandhill Cranes and hundreds of North Pintail ducks.

Northern Pintails Avoiding a Raptor

Periodically a raptor, usually a hawk but sometimes a Bald Eagle or a Peregrine Falcon, would fly over the fields and put up hundreds, soemtimes thousands of birds. These Northern Pintails lifted in response to a flyover by a Peregrine Falcon.

Geese Against Meteor Peak

The eastern Alaska Range was out on a perfect day, tempting WC to attempt photos of the birds in front of the snow-covered peaks. These Canada and White-fronted Geese are in front of Meteor Peak.

Geese and Ducks against Granite Mountain

But mostly WC was content to listen and watch. It was both a visual and a sonic treat. The sounds of all those birds made a nearly-endless winter nearly worth it. This is one of nature’s truly great spectacles,, millions of birds flying thousands of miles. It’s awe-inspiring and glorious. WC is very grateful for having been in the right place at the right time. May your spring bring you equal moments of joy.

(WC will have more photos from his epic day in future posts.)

UPDATE: WC’s buddy Ronn Murray shot a short video clip, with sound, that give you some idea of what was going on down by Delta.

Sunset Swans from Ronn Murray on Vimeo.

Lightly Goosed

Interior Alaska only gets two species of Goose regularly. Both are present at Creamer’s Refuge now, bringing with them the faintest hint of spring.

Greater White-fronted Goose

The Greater White-fronted Goose has to be one of the easiest IDs in birding. No other Norther American bird has orange legas, and orange bill and a white ring where the bill meets the head. The broken horizontal stripes on the belly give the bird its other name, “Speckle Belly.”

Canada Goose Splashdown

Canada Geese – not “Canadian Geese,” thank you – are so common that it takes unusual behavior to get WC to even click the shutter. The symmetry of the wings and reflection is a lucky accident; WC was working on autofocus for birds in flight and landing.

These otherwise fairly pedestrian shots benefit from the early twilight; hence the title of the post. If you’ll excuse WC, he’s off to photograph birds now. Before it starts snowing again.

Uncommon Birds at Creamer’s Refuge

There were a few uncommon birds at Creamer’s Migratory Wildlife Refuge on Saturday night.

First, there was an unusual leucistic Canada Goose.

Leucistic Canada Goose, Creamer’s Refuge, May 4, 2013

It’s certainly the palest Canada Goose WC has ever seen. On Saturday night, it was in the southeast corner, near the fence, if you live in or near Fairbanks.

Leucism occurs in many species of animal, not just birds. It’s not really visible against the  bright snow, but the neck was dark grey and not jet black.

There was also a migrant from Eurasia, a Eurasian Wigeon.

Eurasian Wigeon, heavily cropped, Creamer’s Refuge, May 4, 2013

The white stripe against the ruddy face and neck is an unambiguous identification mark for this species. This bird was a long ways away; this photo was taken with a 600mm lens and then cropped to 10% of the original. A lot of detail is lost, but it’s a clear confirmation for ID purposes. Last night it was in the far north pond.

Here’s the very common American Wigeon, for comparison, for WC’s readers who aren’t experienced birders:

American Wigeon Drake, Peat Ponds, May 2012

You can see how very different the head is; the bold green eye patch in contrast to the ruddy head. Both have the white stripe on the head.

Creamer’s Refuge is a treasure. It’s common to see cars with NRA and Save ANWR stickers parked side-by-side, the drivers out with identical smiles on their faces, taking in the sights and the sounds of  spring migration. It is very good to see it filling up with birds.

So You Want to Be a Bird Photographer?

Mudding for Bird Pix, Photo by Mrs. WC

A cautionary note.

Last night as WC was taking some of the bird photos that are in this morning’s post, he was asked, “What does it take to be a bird photographer?”

Rather than attempt to answer, WC will instead link to a detailed post by his friend and superb bird photographer, Mia MacPherson, who has answered the question in detail.

Every word of Mia’s answer is absolutely true. Be warned.

Big Guys in Town

Interior Alaska’s, ahem,  glacial spring migration is inching along. There are Trumpeter Swans at Creamer’s Refuge.

Trumpeter Swan in Flight, May 1, 2013

Trumpeters, Cygnus buccinator, are North America’s largest waterfowl, and at 25-26 pounds, among the heaviest flighted birds. Powerful elegant and graceful in the air, their presence is good evidence there is liquid water somewhere around here, despite the freezing 15 mph wind out of the north.

Trumpeter Swans Landing, May 1, 2013

They get respect, too. You can see the Mallard drake scurrying out of the landing zone. Landing into the wind, the birds were almost hovering. You can see from the attitude of their wings they aren’t stalling as they approach the small puddle.

And it was cold. In this photo you can see the ice rim that has built up on the bird’s bill from foraging for barley in the puddles.

Trumpeters Foraging, May 1, 2013

Of course, a 15 mph wind is nothing to a bird that migrates a thousand miles or more. But WC hadn’t thought a hat would be necessary on, you know, May 1. A mistake, you’ll agree. Especially if you were outside after 7 PM. So while the swans are a good sign, it’s not spring just yet.

These photos were all taken with the new Canon 1D-X, a 300mm lens with a 2.0 teleconverter and hand-held. With some practice, WC thinks this camera is going to work out pretty well.

An Even Later Spring Bird Migration

WC probably should have known better. The snow squalls might have been a clue. The low-20s temperature was a tip. But WC nevertheless headed to Delta Junction in hopes of finding signs of spring bird migration.

Not Quite Spring, Sawmill Creek Road

Note the tire tracks in the fresh snow are all from folks sensibly leaving. The day alternated near-blizzard, near-whiteout conditions with flat white light and the occasional watery sunbeams. Difficult conditions and light for bird photography. But there weren’t any new birds to photograph anyway. Spring migration is now officially two or three weeks behind schedule.

Rough-legged Hawk Sheltering

There were Rough-legged Hawks everywhere. The increasing wind out of the northwest had them pinned down, as well as the irregular snow squalls. The big rolls of hay were favorite posts, especially the leeward sides.

Tree Bunting(s)

This is part of a flock of 250-300 Snow Buntings foraging in the wind-blown fields southeast of Delta.

The Snow Buntings and the Rough-leggeds are North Slope breeders; they are the first arrivals in Spring Migration and, three weeks in to the process, are pretty much the only ones present in numbers. Sure, there are some over-excited Canada Geese and a handful of Trumpeter Swans. WC found a few Red-tailed Hawks and two Northern Harriers. But nothing like the numbers of the variety we should have at the end of April.

The inch of snow in the forecast isn’t particularly encouraging. Yes, WC knows, spring will come. Spring birds will arrive. But at this point they are going to be seriously late. And Spring is going to be seriously messy.

I Was Just Leaving

Sometimes just as you try to photograph a bird, it decides to leave. Mostly, the bird flies away from the photographer. Sometimes you get lucky and the bird flies towards you.

Rough-legged Hawk

And sometimes, if you are very lucky, you get some interesting interaction that causes the bird to fly towards you.

Snow Buntings

Readers will note these are both early spring migrants. Happily, waterfowl should be arriving very soon. Waterfowl are more  placid and approachable.

Northern Shoveler

It can’t happen soon enough.

Hawks and Eagles and Owls, Oh My!

WC and Mrs. WC visited the Delta Barley Project  for early-arriving hawks and waterfowl in spring migration. In gorgeous weather, the first real day of spring, we rattled and bumped along the backroads. WC thanks whoever ran the dozer along Barley Way to Hanson Road. The road would be impassable for another couple of weeks without that neighborly gesture.

Adult Bald Eagle

Some Bald Eagles winter in the area, along the Delta Clearwater, a spring-fed stream that is partially open all winter. But those Bald Eagles are pretty scruffy-looking by April; this handsome fellow is more likely a recent arrival. You see a lot of photos of Bald Eagles because they are approachable.

Rough-legged Hawk in Flight

Here’s a bonafide migrant, a Rough-legged Hawk, en route from southern Arizona to the North Slope. The distinctive black “wrist” patches are definitive for this species. We saw seven Rough-leggeds altogether, not the peak of migration yet but enough to make clear migration is under way.

Mrs. WC and a Northern Hawk Owl

If you looks very carefully, you’ll see a Northern Hawk Owl in the upper right corner, perched on top of an aspen. WC offers this image to give you some idea of the challenge of filling a frame with a bird. The snow drift in front of her is five or six feet deep. You can’t get closer, and it would create an unacceptably steep angle anyway. It takes telephoto; lots of telephoto.

Northern Hawk Owl

The angle is still pretty steep, and the bird’s position isn’t flattering, but the size gives you some idea of the kind of magnification that’s required.

This was the first Northern Hawk Owl of the year for us. The last few winters have been tough on birds that hunt by plunge-diving. The rain creates a frozen layer between the birds their vole prey, under the snow. It’s very good to see a healthy-looking, handsome fellow.

Hawk owls are generally winter residents, although some years they irrupt to more southerly latitudes. So not necessarily a migrant. But very good to see all the same.

Finally, a Delta Barley Project specialty, in a moderately unusual place.

Sharp-tailed Grouse in a Spruce

You’d have to ask a ground-dwelling Sharp-tailed what it’s doing on the top of a spruce tree, other than playing Russian roulette with migrating hawks. But then there’s not a lot of room for brains in that little head. But another bird it’s always great to see.

It’s a Late Spring

And the temperature remains in single digits. Negative single digits. It’s enough to make a fellow surly.

Jamie Smith, of Course

Hey, it’s kind of a bird. Last year this time WC was photographing raptors down Delta Junction way.

American Kestrels, April 2012

This year, not so much.

Among Earl’s Many Talents

Earl, of course, is the Great Grey Owl Mrs. WC uses for educational programs.

Earl, the Great Grey Owl

It turns out Earl may have talents beyond wowing the crowds at educational programs and being cranky at home. That’s the story of Jen, Lee and Somerley. A sweet story for a cold, gloomy Monday. Well worth a read.

And Happy Birthday, Somerley.

Have You Seen This Bird?

WANTED

In Connection with the Start of Spring Migration

The Snow Bunting is the first species to arrive in spring migration. WC is long past ready for spring migration to begin. So, have you seen this bird?

Snow Bunting, a/k/a Plectrophenax nivalis

The bird’s bill may be black later in the spring.

Wanted for Avian Photography and Commencement of Spring

This species usually travels in gangs flocks of ten to one hundred birds. Sometimes more.

Bunting Gang

If you see this bird in Alaska, notify WC immediately. Provide the date, time and place of the sighting.

Warning: this species is armed winged and dangerous perambulant.

And Happy April 1, everyone.

National Audubon Society: Still No Sign of a Spine

If you haven’t read WC’s earlier post on the feral cat issue, you’ll want to do so before reading further.

WC got more overwrought email on this post than on any issue since the Palinistas took umbrage at WC’s review of her “autobiography.”

National Audubon Society President David Yarnold has posted a blog piece announcing writer Ted Williams’s column in their magazine will be reinstated. Mr. Yarnold’s piece suffers from dizzying PR spin and the kind of statements that make a thinking reader laugh out loud. There’s this gem, for example:

I recognize the suspension of Ted’s column caused a fair amount of consternation among some of Audubon’s most loyal supporters. Understandably, some of that concern came from admiration for Ted.

May WC translate this for you? “Our major donors were outraged.”

WC was sufficiently annoyed to post a comment in response, which is set out here in full. WC has added links for your convenience.

Oh, please, spare me.

Audubon overreacted to the cat crazies’ distorted reading of Ted Williams’ op-ed piece. Audubon’s donor community did not take kindly to Audubon’s panicked reaction. Now Audubon is engaged in damage control and is frantically spinning the facts.

And one of those facts is that Audubon does NOT have a meaningful position on feral cat control, even as it admits that feral cats are a critical threat to the birds and biodiversity that Audubon exists to protect. Mr. Yarnold’s description of Audubon’s “policy” is damning. Audubon’s caving to the cat crazies is completely consistent with its spineless, toothless “policy.”

It’s great that Ted Williams’ column will return to the magazine. But until the underlying issue, possibly the greatest threat to North American birds, is meaningfully addressed, 4,700 North American birds will continue to die every minute of every hour of every year as a consequence of predation by feral cats. 4,700 birds will be killed by feral cats while you read this comment.

We don’t do the wild birds we love any favors by “making nice” on this issue. Audubon should serve its mission and adopt a meaningful, effective policy on feral cats. And then implement it.

Just for the record, WC has a cat. A 14-year old tabby, Willow. She stays indoors. And she does just fine.

If you have a cogent argument against euthanizing feral cats, have the courage of your convictions and set it out in a comment. Be prepared to explain why cats should be treated differently than feral dogs, hogs and, for that matter, boa constrictors: all are introduced, alien species who are ravaging the environment. Be prepared to explain away 4,700 birds killed by feral cats every minute, of every hour, of every day. No more whiny email accusing WC of hating cats. Instead, rebut through logic, evidence and science Dr. Brian Monk’s column.

What? 4,700? It’s 2.5 billion birds / 365 days / 24 hours / 60 minutes. Do the math.