Monthly Archives: July 2018

The Duck Capital of Europe

Braden here.

Lake Myvatn, Iceland, is the Waterfowl Capital of Europe, and maybe the world. Its rich wetlands and nutrient waters provide habitat for more than 15 breeding species of ducks, more than anywhere else on the continent (well, the European Continent. Technically Iceland is on two continental plates, but whatever).

Our tour was not for the waterfowl, however. Myvatn is also famous for its geology—the place is a geologist’s playground. We had just come from Godafoss, the waterfall of the gods, where I’d scored a family of 13 Rock Ptarmigans along with the stunning landscape.

We pulled up at our first and only stop close to the lake. This area was known for its pseudocraters, or fake craters, created by lava running over areas of water. To be honest, though, the “famous” craters were not much to look at. They were just dips in the ground, surrounded by farmland. The bird numbers, however, were incredible.

When I first glimpsed the lake, I found myself staring at hundreds, possibly thousands, of white speckles scattered around the shorelines: Whooper Swans! In mid-summer, apparently, these swans congregated in large numbers in sheltered areas of freshwater, and Myvatn was perfect! Huge rafts of ducks also decorated the surface—closer looks told me that these were mostly Tufted Duck, Eurasian Wigeon, and Greater Scaup, the males transforming into their drab summer or “eclipse” plumages.

Pairs of Whooper Swans dominated the lake, more swans than I’d seen anywhere else at one time. (Photo by Braden Collard)

And another, less obvious species was on the lake in numbers—Red-necked Phalaropes! These tiny shorebirds were barely half the size of the nearest duck, and spun in rapid circles to stir up food from the bottom.

This farmland was not a desert of biodiversity like some—it also had a great number of birds around. In the hedge rows, Common Snipe hid with their newborn young, hoping to avoid their human, camera-carrying “predators.”. Alas, they did not succeed—I got great shots!

The short grass of the fields was a shorebird and songbird’s feast—Common Redshanks, Dunlins, Red-necked Phalaropes, Whimbrels, Redwings, White Wagtails, Meadow Pipits and Snow Buntings nibbled at the seeds.

Red-necked Phalaropes are one of the few species of birds in which females are brighter than males. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Along one side of the trail, I suddenly heard a haunting, ghostly call echo across the lake—a Common Loon! Known as the “Great Northern Diver” to the Brits, a pair and baby sat amidst a flock of swans, about 100 meters offshore. I spotted another prize, too—Horned (“Slovenian”) Grebes, much closer to shore. They were another reason European birders loved Lake Myvatn, as they were another specialty of the region. Other Iceland-exclusive birds occurring at Myvatn were Harlequin Ducks (which I did not see) and Barrow’s Goldeneye (which I did). However, the loons, grebes and ducks all occurred much more commonly in the United States, so I was more excited about what the Europeans would consider “common” birds—the snipe, redwings, wagtails, phalaropes, etc.

This baby snipe was less than a foot off of the trail! (Photo by Braden Collard)

The Backyard Jungle

Braden is currently in Iceland, where he is birding with mom and grandparents—and will undoubtedly write some great upcoming posts about that—so I thought this would be a great time to talk about backyard bird habitat.

When we moved into our neighborhood in 2006, we faced a daunting task: transforming our property from a biological desert that had been scraped clean by bulldozers into something that not only looked nice, but provided habitat for native animals and plants. It hasn’t been easy. Aside from the usual tasks of battling weeds and keeping plants alive, we’ve faced a ravenous army of deer that consistently ignore signs that read “Deer-Resistant Plants.” Finally, after twelve years, however, we are enjoying a yard that truly resembles the habitat we set out to create.

A pair of Red-breasted Nuthatches took immediate advantage of this new bird condo in our messy yard this year. Audubon, I will expect my product placement check soon. (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Food has certainly been a key to our success. Through luck and persistence, we’ve managed to establish a wide variety of plants that provide berries, nectar, seeds, and insects to multiple bird species. Oh yeah, and a backyard sunflower seed feeder doesn’t hurt!

One thing I underestimated when we began is the importance of structure. Sure, we planted trees, some of which have reached twenty feet or more, but we also have an array of buffalo berry, maple sumac, ocean spray, golden currant, and mountain mahogany that have proved extremely “bird popular” for their cover as much as for their food. We’ve also been helped by a row of lilacs along the back fence that were already here when we moved in and serve as a vital launch pad for birds wanting a turn at the feeder.

Female to Male Tree Swallow at our front birdhouse: “Hm, honey, I like the neighborhood, but the front door is a little small.” (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

One final thing we did just this year is put in two chickadee houses. Within days, one had been staked out by Black-capped Chickadees and the other by Red-breasted Nuthatches. For further fun, Violet-green Swallows nest under our eaves while a surprise robin pair has raised a family in a bordering fir tree. We believe that a Song Sparrow pair has also successfully raised chicks, but we’re not sure where!

The end result is that this year has seen an explosion of birds around our house—more than forty species to date, shattering our previous record. The most common residents have been the nesting birds, Evening Grosbeaks, Cassin’s Finches, Song Sparrows, Cedar Waxwings, Pygmy Nuthatches, Flickers, and yes, those pesky House Finches and House Sparrows. We’ve also made sightings of Pileated and Hairy Woodpeckers (thanks to the ponderosa pines behind the house), Common Nighthawks, American Goldfinches, Western Wood Pewees, and Rufous Hummingbirds.

One of this year’s delights has been the daily appearance of our first, apparently resident, Song Sparrows. (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Sadly, few of our neighbors have followed our example in creating habitat, most sticking with pointless lawns and non-native shrubbery that is virtually useless to native animals. I like to hope, though, that our “messy” yard of diverse and unruly plants inspires at least the occasional passerby to boldly go where traditional landscape companies fear to tread. After all, those of us lucky enough to own a home with a yard have a responsibility to give back to the plants and animals that our extravagant human “nests” have displaced.

Amazon Birding Bonanza at Sani Lodge

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Braden here.

The majority of our first week in South America was spent in Ecuador’s portion of the Amazon. It was May, 2017, and we were staying at a place known as Sani Lodge, a resort run by the Yasuni people. The lodge was located about a half mile from the Río Napo, a large tributary of the Amazon River, nestled on a small lagoon. The only way to reach the lodge was by a combination of motorboating, canoeing and hiking.

Hoatzins, an Amazon version of a crazy turkey, provided plenty of entertainment around Sani Lodge. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Bird-wise, I was super excited about the Amazon—it hosted more species than all of the ABA area! As we approached Sani Lodge, though, we saw and heard few birds. Our guide, Danny, pointed out flocks of oropendolas flashing through the canopy or the echoing call of a lone tinamou, but birding was tough as we hiked to our canoe dock, and my expectations slowly diminished. I figured there were lots of birds here, but almost all of them would be difficult to see through the brush. The lodge itself proved my idea wrong, however.

As we canoed up to the dock, our guide began pointing out a broad array of activity—White-winged Swallows flying low over the lagoon, Black-capped Donacobiuses meowing from the marsh, and “stinky turkeys”, or Hoatzins, weighing down branches and screaming about it. As we walked up to the open-air lounge, Danny pointed out two Tropical Screech-Owls roosting in a palm tree next to the trail. In the bar, a chicken-like bird picked crumbs off the floor. Danny introduced us to Apasha the Gray-winged Trumpeter. An Australian birder nearby, the only other tourist in the lounge, stressed that Apasha was “completely wild,” and therefore “completely countable” on ebird. Apasha had shown up a few years ago and just stuck around. In fact, my sister soon discovered that Apasha enjoyed picking insects off of peoples’ heads.

Got critters in your hair? A Gray-winged Trumpeter may be just the ticket! (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Feeders were set up next to the bar, snagging my attention from the manager, who was giving us a presentation on the expectations of the lodge. Silver-beaked and Masked Crimson Tanagers decorated the fruit feeders, while White-eared Jacamars and Scarlet-crowned Barbets watched from nearby.

Masked Crimson Tanagers were some of the most spectacular “feeder birds” at the lodge. (Photo by Braden Collard)

The lodge grounds were small and mostly unmanicured, as the Yasuni wanted to be as eco-friendly as possible. This also meant that the electricity generator ran only twelve hours a day, around mealtimes.

One day, we went for a canoe ride around the lagoon. The story behind the lagoon was that it was a sanctuary for endangered Yellow-spotted Turtles and Black Caimans, both of which we saw. In fact, we released four baby turtles into the lagoon, named Tortugi, Speckles, Rick Turtle and Terminator. As we canoed around, we all suddenly heard drumming. As we looked into the trees nearby, we glimpsed a brilliant-yellow woodpecker—one Danny said was the rare Cream-colored!

One of the most thrilling birds we saw around Sani Lodge, this Cream-colored Woodpecker even made it into my dad’s book, Woodpeckers: Drilling Holes and Bagging Bugs. (Photo by Braden Collard)

My expectations were filled, but more was to come…

Listers Anonymous Mid-Year Crisis Meeting

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Minutes from Listers Anonymous Meeting 7/1/18

Us: Hello.

Group: Hello!

Us: Our names are Sneed and Braden and we are Listers. It’s been exactly four hours and twelve minutes since we last posted on eBird.

Group: Amen!

Biologist Dick Hutto leads Listers Anonymous meeting with birders from Helena in the Rice Ridge Burn. (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Us: I mean, we’re not just Listers. We love to watch birds and photograph them and write about them, but…

Moderator: Go on. We’re all friends here.

Us: Thanks. Yeah, but we’re also Listers. We like to keep track of how many birds we’ve seen in a given year, month, day—not to mention how many in every county and state and, well, you get the idea.

Woman with binocular strap scars on her shoulders: Oh, I know. Been there, Honey.

Us: The thing is, we’re really having a crisis right now.

Moderator: Go on.

Lister’s Dilemma: Great species, such as this Spotted Sandpiper, still abound, but NEW species are getting hard to find. (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Us: Well, you see, last year we did a Montana Big Year. I recorded 207 species while Braden got 213. This year, I’m up to 196 while Braden has 204.

Man wearing birding vest, shaking his head: Have mercy. You are in trouble.

Us: We knew you’d understand. I mean most people, they don’t get it. They say, “200 species! Why that’s great! The year’s only half done and you’ve almost beat your old record already!”

Group: Lord, forgive them!

Us: Yeah, right? What they don’t realize is that the prime birding months are GONE! Sure, we need only ten or so species to break last year’s record, but seriously, it’s July! It’ll be a miracle if we can find that many in Montana the rest of the year.

Group: By the name of Sibley and Audubon, we feel your pain!

Us: What’s even worse, we aren’t even going to make it out to Far Eastern Montana this summer. No Upland Sandpipers. No Greater Sage Grouse. No Long-billed Curlews.

Woman with an arm tattoo “Big Year or Bust”: Children, you are in a fix!

Us: We know, but what can we do?

Moderator, polishing the lenses of his binoculars: Sneed and Braden, it’s one of the heaviest burdens for a Lister to bear. But you’ve got to fight it.

Group: Amen.

Moderator: You just can’t take “No” for an answer.

Group: Amen!

Moderator: You’ve got to keep getting out there, even when there’s less hope of finding a Year Bird than of getting a Democrat elected to Congress!

Group: AMEN, BROTHERS AND SISTERS!

For us, it seems like a record year for Lewis’s Woodpecker sightings, but would it be too much to ask to see a Black-backed? (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Moderator: You can’t give up. Every day and every night, you’ve got to sling your optics around your necks and follow every lead, examine every perch. And even in your darkest days, when not a new sparrow is spotted within a hundred miles of you, remember, we’re all in this together. Take strength from that, brothers.

Us: We will. Thank you. Uh, by the way, is anyone up for some birding?

(Sounds of trampling feet as the Listers stampede out of the building.)