Category Archives: Bird Behavior

Montana Mid-Summer Birding Break

This summer’s been a busy one for the FatherSonBirding team. I (Sneed) have been buried under a book revision for my next book, Birding the Great Wide Open, due out from Mountaineers Books in Fall, 2027. Meanwhile, Braden has been working hard at an internship with Montana Outdoors magazine while also embarking on his very first jobs as a professional bird guide! (If you’re interested in engaging his services, you can contact him directly at bgcoll2121@gmail.com.) All of this made us especially anxious to just get out and see what the birds are doing, especially down in sagebrush country, and especially before some of the early migrants start to depart. Here is Braden’s excellent account of our intense, two-day adventure!

July marks a time when Montana birding calms down a bit. March brings with it the first waves of waterfowl migration, and after that, each week brings new birds arriving on territory. Birdsong ramps up exponentially in April and May, and after migration ends in the first week of June, there are plenty of birds to catch up with on their traditional breeding haunts. By July, though, the birds begin to get quieter, with many of them settling down onto nests and trying to attract little attention to themselves. Sure, early shorebird migrants start to trickle in, but the latter half of the month, especially, feels like a break. This is compounded by the ever-hotter summers we’ve been experiencing: in recent years, July has brought uncomfortably high temperatures that make being out past 11 a.m. not fun.

And yet, the last few years have proven to me and my dad that July should still be taken seriously as far as birding goes. There may be no better example of that than the ten (!) Burrowing Owls we found on Bench Road last week.

**Burrowing Owls were one of the top enticements of heading to Montana sagebrush country in July—and the owls did not disappoint!**

One reason my dad wanted to take a mid-July trip is because, well, June had been crazy and autumn was ramping up to be crazier still, meaning that July, the last full month before the bulk of our breeding birds depart, would have to be our chance to head out east. While I had visited many parts of the state earlier in summer, showing my east coast friends around, my dad hadn’t gotten a chance to visit the prairie or the sagebrush, so his target list covered many birds found in those habitats: Sagebrush Sparrow, Lark Bunting, Ferruginous Hawk, Sage Thrasher. And of course, Burrowing Owl—often a tricky target in Montana, but reliably seen on a road through a dry swath of agricultural land south of the town of Three Forks. So, our first stop on our eventual loop through the southwestern corner of the state took us there.

Before even arriving at the Burrowing Owl spot, we checked out the freshwater marsh at the entrance to Bench Road and glimpsed a Short-eared Owl relocating from one patch of cattails to another. What a great way to start the trip! As we continued, my dad pointed out a pair of hawks perched on nearby hay bales—Swainson’s. “There’s more up ahead!” I pointed through the windshield at four more riding thermals above us. Either this was a family group, or these raptors were beginning to think about heading south.

**Swainson’s Hawks were out in force on the trip, including this one posing artistically amongst haybales south of Three Forks.**

Our car flushed a variety of sparrows from the roadside as we drove, and we stopped periodically to get looks and photos of them. We were delighted to find that the majority of them were Grasshopper Sparrows! Many were adults, but a big chunk of them were babies, too, in a beautiful plumage we’d never seen before. Who knew that these tiny sparrows go through a life stage where their feathers resemble the spotted fur of a leopard! We also got great views at Lark Buntings, never a guarantee this far west, in a small group hopping from fence post to fence post.

**A big bonus to birding in July is that we got to see the young of many species, including a wonderful bunch of Grasshopper Sparrows, one of our favorite grassland species.**

We drove all the way out to a distant homestead and got out to scope a mound of dirt that my dad was sure would hold a Burrowing Owl. No luck. On our way back to Three Forks, though, I yelled “Stop!” and my dad screeched the Toyota to a halt. Out in a random field stood not one, not two, but SIX Burrowing Owls, all glaring directly at us from their mound (as these owls tend to do). We got out to scope them, noting that at least five were young, including one that fearlessly chased grasshoppers around in the grass right in front of us. Happy with our haul, we continued backtracking, running into a woman who pointed out another Burrowing Owl and told us the location of two more. By the time we got back to the highway, we’d seen ten in total—by far the most either of us had ever witnessed in a day let alone one spot!

**It was great to see Burrowing Owls again here on Bench Road—in almost the exact spot we had seen our lifer BUOWs with Nick Ramsey years before.**

From Three Forks, we headed south for the sagebrush country of Beaverhead County. Along the way we pulled over a few times to check out wetlands, raptors on telephone poles, and even picked up a Great-tailed Grackle in the Safeway parking lot in Dillon. This species used to be quite rare in our state but has been expanding in recent years, and a population has established itself in town.

We met up with Jeff Marks at a local bar to watch part of a World Cup game, then continued on to Clark Canyon Reservoir to search for shorebirds before heading back to the sagebrush for the evening. After scouring the entire northern side of the reservoir we finally located one migratory shorebird—a Long-billed Dowitcher—as well as a few breeding shorbs like Willets, Killdeer and Spotted Sandpipers.

**After seeing the Safeway parking lot birds in Dillon, we saw another Great-tailed Grackle at Clark Canyon Reservoir—more evidence of how this species is moving into southwestern Montana.**

We saw our first Prairie Falcon of the year on a pole along Bannack Bench Road, a bird I’d been pessimistic about finding on the trip, then continued along a dirt two-track through the sagebrush. Though there were plenty of Brewer’s Sparrows and Sage Thrashers about, we couldn’t spot any Sagebrush Sparrows, and Nate Kohler, Jeff’s field assistant, hypothesized that they may already had left. These are one of the first passerines to arrive every year, so an early departure date would make sense.

We met up with Jeff Marks and Nate Kohler at the comfortable cabin they rent every year and they showed us where we would be sleeping—a rustic room with bunk beds, a kitchen and a couch. I’d never met Jeff before today and hadn’t seen Nate since December, so it was really good to talk to them, discussing all manner of things from birds and habitats to life adventures and politics. It was also my first time at “Flycatcher Camp”, though my dad had been a couple of times, and I was excited to see the work Jeff and Nate were doing with Gray Flycatchers—one of Montana’s only GRFL populations. After dinner and card games we all started getting ready for bed, and my dad and I watched the sunset from the porch. Montana’s sunsets never cease to amaze me, and this one was particularly special—we got to watch the resident nighthawks take off from their not-so-secret day roosts (open fence posts) as Wilson’s Snipes displayed all around us. A couple Soras sounded off from the creek nearby, and we even heard distant Sandhill Cranes.

**My dad calls this “Sunrise Over Cows”, a photo that perfectly captures the incredible beauty of southwest Montana.**

The next morning we rose early and packed up the car. Jeff rode with us while Nate followed with Jeff’s girlfriend in their truck. The road had some fairly deep ruts, but my dad expertly handled them, and soon we were all out in the sagebrush, looking for Gray Flycatchers. Our first surprise of the morning came not from a bird, but from a mammal—a Pygmy Rabbit! My dad and I had never seen one before, and we all enjoyed watching it race through the sage ahead of us. This species is fairly widespread throughout the Interior West, but has a small population in Montana and is of special conservation concern. Thankfully, it gave us great looks!

Not the best shot, but our lifer Pygmy Rabbit gave us surprisingly good looks as we searched the sagebrush for Gray Flycatcher nests. Note that Pygmy Rabbits have brown tails that distinguish them from the run-of-the-rabbit cottontails.

The flycatchers weren’t hard to find. Soon, we had two males singing on either side of us, returning over and over to the same perches which allowed us great views. Jeff and Nate really wanted to find the nest of the female that lived here, so we all split up, bushwhacking around. A summer storm had killed all of the flycatcher nestlings in June, but many birds had re-nested, and they believed that this female was one of those. Jeff showed me her old nest, not far off the trail in a large sagebrush near the bottom of a wash—a prime nesting habitat for the species, which avoids building nests out in the driest, flattest parts of the sagebrush country. Nate also showed me a Brewer’s Sparrow nest and a double-decker Sage Thrasher nest, one built right on top of the other. (For more on Jeff’s and Nate’s work, check out last year’s post “Gray Flycatcher Science”.)

**Jeff Marks fills me in on his studies as our Gray Flycatcher crew begins its search for nests—Amy and Nate in the background. (See last year’s post “Gray Flycatcher Science” to learn more!)**

“There were a ton of thrashers here last week, so we know these ones fledged. It’s been a great year for thrashers,” he said.

It was always good to hear that a species was having a successful year, with so many birds declining year by year.

We couldn’t locate the flycatcher nest within an hour or so of searching, and my dad and I had a few more places we wanted to bird on the way home, so we said goodbye to Jeff, Nate and Amy and headed back to Clark Canyon Reservoir, visions of shorebirds dancing in our heads. Again, no luck with any Arctic shorebirds, but we did find nearly 200 American Avocets mixed in with some other fun breeding species!

**Avocets taking a break at Clark Canyon Reservoir on their way south.**

After lunch at a taco truck in Dillon, we stopped along Birch Creek Road on our way back north, the furthest west location for Thick-billed Longspurs in the state. Nate Kohler actually passed us on his way home, and spotted a single longspur on a telephone wire above the road. As we got out to look at it, a snowy-white raptor cruised overhead: a Ferruginous Hawk, one of my dad’s final remaining targets for the trip! We high-fived, ecstatic at our good luck, then continued on our way. After one more quick stop in Madison County, where we picked up a calling Veery, we drove the rest of the way home. What a great midsummer trip!

To learn more about Jeff’s and Nate’s scientific work with Gray Flycatchers, or make a donation, check out the website of Montana Bird Advocacy at https://www.montanabirdadvocacy.org/.

**We couldn’t finish up this post without an in-flight shot of a Common Nighthawk. As they have before, they put on a great show during our trip and were birds we could have watched for hours on end.**

Seabirds as Sentinels (FSB Book Review)

Gunnison Sage-grouse: Bird #13 on Braden’s ABA Life List Countdown, April 10th, 2026

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Today, Braden shares the latest installment of his series counting down the remaining ABA Life Birds he has been attempting to see. It’s just like listening to Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 Countdown—but better, because it’s about BIRDS! To catch up on his other recent life bird adventures, click on these previous posts:

Black-chinned Sparrow: Bird #14 on Braden’s ABA Life List Countdown

Fulvous Whistling-Duck: Bird #15 on Braden’s ABA Life List Countdown

Lower 48 Life List Countdown: Crissal Thrasher (Bird #16)

The sun still hadn’t woken up when I pulled over behind the half dozen or so other cars parked along the side of the road. I rolled down my window as a local game biologist approached.

“Are you here for the grouse?”

“Yes,” I answered quietly as a Horned Lark began singing somewhere in the darkness.

“And where are you from?”

“Montana, though I’m en route from California.”

She marked a few things off on her clipboard, then returned to her car. Through the gray pre-dawn darkness, I could make out a huge field of sagebrush, the foreground for Ponderosa-covered hills rising in the distance. In other words, my car was parked on a dirt road surrounded by a typical landscape of the American West. Even the birds were similar to those found in Montana: a winnowing Wilson’s Snipe, calling Red-winged Blackbirds, the husky chirps of a singing Mountain Bluebird. And yet, in Gunnison County, Colorado, there lives a bird that has never lived in Montana. Me and the other birders, silhouetted through their car windows, had driven from various corners of the country to see it: The Gunnison Sage-grouse.

**The Gunnison Sage-grouse birder “lek” watching the actual Gunnison Sage-grouse lek in the distance at sunrise.**

Superficially, Gunnison Sage-grouse and Greater Sage-grouse aren’t all that different. Both species require expansive sagebrush habitats like the plain that stretched out before me in the rising light. The Greater is larger (hence the name), and, during the breeding season, Gunnisons have much longer filoplumes adorning the males’ heads. While Greater Sage-grouse are found across much of the West, Gunnisons occupy only a small area in Colorado and western Utah. The ranges of the two birds do not overlap.

**Many of the birds I saw while driving through Colorado reminded me of my home in Montana—complete with meadowlarks on signs!**

Sage-grouse breeding displays are some of North America’s most famous avian experiences. Males and females gather in breeding groups in early spring. Both the breeding groups and their display grounds are commonly referred to as leks. While lekking, the males, decked out in the most ridiculous plumage of any North American bird, pump their chests to the viewing amusement of nearby females. Although I’d seen Greater Sage-grouse a few times in my life, I’d never been able to experience one of these leks. And while there are several sites across the country where one might watch a Greater Sage-grouse lek, there is only a single public Gunnison Sage-grouse lek, a spot about fifteen miles east of Waunita Watchable Wildlife Area. Because of their small population and increasing threats to the habitats they’re found in, the grouse are endangered, and so the public lek is open for viewing only during certain weeks of the year. I had arrived on April 10th, the last day the lek would be open for another two weeks.

About half an hour before dawn, another birder’s car alarm went off. I could see everyone in their cars wince—Gunnison Sage-grouse are quite sensitive to disturbance, and this could have been enough to send them scampering away. Thankfully, the birds (which were about ¾ of a mile away from the road), didn’t seem bothered, and about ten minutes later, I began to hear the popping sounds of their displays. I eventually located them, distant black dots, even through my binoculars. Fifteen minutes later, with the permission of the biologist, we started getting out of our cars to set up spotting scopes.

Though our “birder lek” stood too far away from the Gunnison Sage-grouse to get photos, their behavior is very similar to lekking Sharp-tailed Grouse, captured here by my dad at Benton Lake NWR a couple of years ago (see post “The Best Prairie Day Ever: Benton Lake NWR.”)

Through the scope my viewing experience was marginally better. I could make out the males, with their furry white chests and black heads, pumping their shoulders at each other. Occasionally, a female would scamper through my view. Though far away, lekking sage-grouse had been on my bucket list for years and taking them in as the sun peeked above the horizon could only be described as a magical experience. Fog escaped my lips every time I took a breath, and a few nearby Sage Thrashers began singing across the road from us. Soon my fellow birders were beginning to whisper to each other, and I learned just how far people had come to see these birds. The man in the car whose alarm had gone off had driven through the night from Oregon en route to a bird point-count job in Oklahoma, stopping here just for this species. Another man had come here from a few hours away.

**As my dad pointed out in his recent post “Colorado’s Ute Mountain Mesa Verde Birding Festival,” numbers of Spotted Towhees in Colorado are CRAZY!**

“My kid loves it, birding,” he said to me. “The last year especially, he’s really gotten into it. He wanted to see these grouse, so here we are.” I couldn’t help but see the similarities between that father and son and my birding experiences with my own dad.

After about four minutes of the grouse lekking, a group of birders stormed out of the blind that was set up beside the cars. I’d run into this group last night and learned they were doing a “chicken run.” Colorado is known for having almost every grouse species in the US and tour groups often target all of them during weeks in March and April. One of the birders asked if I knew any nearby spots for White-tailed Ptarmigan before the four of them noisily piled into their car and drove away. So much for staying quiet while the grouse were displaying! Either way, the birds didn’t seem to mind.

**I was especially excited to see Pinyon Jays in Colorado, since they can be a challenge to find back home.**

Beyond seeing these endangered birds, I had been enjoying seeing more and more landscapes that reminded me of home as I neared the middle of my road trip back to Montana. On my drives through Arizona and Colorado I watched the desert transition into mountainous valleys, complete with juniper and sagebrush-covered canyons, rushing streams with permanent water, and the snowcapped peaks of the San Juans and other mountain ranges. Of course, my trip was nowhere near over. I’d be visiting several more new habitats before that happened. In fact, one of those habitats would be later in the day, where I might just manage to see another life bird! Stay tuned to see what comes next . . .

Bustin’ Out for Birdathon

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The Wings Across the Big Sky Festival is less than two weeks away and Braden I look forward to seeing some of you there. It’s not too late to sign up. Just click here for what promises to be a terrific weekend of birding Montana’s stunning northwest corner. Braden and I will be leading two field trips, one to Tally Lake and the other to the CSKT Bison Range. Even if you’re not on those trips, please say hello! Meanwhile, we are happy to share another recent big birding event—an exhilarating day of Birdathon to raise money for our local Audubon chapter!

On Friday, May 15^th, I woke at 4 a.m., excited to be devoting a full day—and I mean FULL—to birding. Unlike most days of birding, however, I and my team of Braden, Susan Snetsinger, and her son Eli would be dedicating our day to raising money for a good cause under the auspices of Birdathon.

Birdathon is an annual event put on by many different bird-related conservation groups, and it works much like those death marches you probably got suckered into as a youngster in which you would commit to walking twenty miles and sign up sponsors to pay you for each mile walked. Birdathon, though, is MUCH more fun than those blister-packing marathons of yesteryear because birding teams get to raise money by BIRDING!

**I find it impossible not to photograph Black-necked Stilts when I see them and, indeed, the birds showed up aplenty for Birdathon.**

In the spirit of healthy, fund-raising competition, we dubbed our team Bird Domination, but none of us had ever actually participated in a Birdathon. Undaunted, we coerced an assortment of family members and friends to donate money for each bird that we might find, deceitfully telling them that we probably would see about 100 birds during the day—even though we harbored much higher aspirations. Our donations would go to support the wonderful conservation and education work of our local birding chapter, Five Valleys Audubon, and Braden and I diligently crafted a route that would net us the most birds in a single day.

**Team Domination: (L to R) Sneed, Braden, Eli, and Susan.**

Braden and I decided to start at dawn with a quick trip up Rattlesnake Creek in our own neighborhood to pick up a few birds we might not see anywhere else. Arriving at the trailhead at 5:30 sharp, the birds did not disappoint. In the parking lot, we immediately heard Nashville Warbler and Hammond’s Flycatcher, and walking up the main trail, an American Dipper popped out onto the trail. Turning up a side creek called Spring Gulch, we heard our last two targets for here: Townsend’s Warbler and the boom boom boom of a Ruffed Grouse! Then we hurried back to the car to collect the rest of our teammates so that our proper Birdathon could launch.

It would take way too many words—and probably bore the heck out of you—to give you a blow by blow of the entire day, but to give you the scope of our endeavor, here are the basics and highlights.

**Three distant American Bitterns (!) above Sčilíp (formerly Dixon) Marsh.** **Unimpressed, two Osprey watch from a nest.**

Our route took us from Missoula to Sčilíp (formerly Dixon) Marsh and past the CSKT Bison Range to Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge. From there, we drove to Bigfork, down the Seeley Swan Valley and then over to Browns Lake. Our last big push carried us across the Continental Divide to Great Falls and our final destination—Benton Lake National Wildlife Refuge—before making the long return trip to Missoula.

Total time elapsed: 17-1/2 hours.

Total miles driven: 552.

**Swainson’s Hawk perched high on our list of desired raptors and we saw four at Benton Lake NWR.**

Before getting to our actual bird highlights, I must say a few words about how much gasoline we consumed. As I’ve continued birding, I’ve been more and more reluctant to drive a lot, even to chase birds since burning gas contributes to climate change and directly impacts the creatures we love. Birdathon, however, coincided with birding destinations Braden and I had planned to visit this spring anyway. I especially wanted to make sure I got over the divide at least once to see some of Montana’s eastern species. So in addition to raising money, Birdathon allowed us to “double dip” on a lot of things we were going to do anyway—and it was a bonus to “carpool” with Susan and Eli, making it a relatively energy-efficient trip overall.

**Sandhill Cranes have a habit of nesting right under our noses and, indeed, we discovered one nesting only a few yards away at one of our stops near Browns Lake.**

Speaking of energy, I also have to add that while Braden and I drove and planned the event, Susan and Eli kept us energized with homemade egg sandwiches, 18-inch torpedo sandwiches, caffeinated beverages, and an unlimited variety of snacks. In other words, Team Bird Domination set out perfectly prepared to have an epic day. And with that, here are but a few of the day’s incredible highlights:

**A fun shorebird assortment at Benton Lake NWR. Can you name them all?** (Answer at the bottom)

Watching three American Bitterns flying over Sčilíp (formerly Dixon) Marsh. For context, we had never even heard an American Bittern here—and seen and heard only three or four in the entire state. At first, in fact, we thought the three birds might be Great Blue Herons, but Braden’s astute eyes picked out the brown color and dark ends of the wings. WOW!
A surprise Short-eared Owl at Ninepipe. Usually, these critters “bed down” a couple of hours after sunrise, but overcast skies probably helped this one keep hunting until we arrived. THANK YOU, OWL.
A Long-billed Curlew at Ninepipe—a curlew that turned out to be a WHIMBREL, again, thanks to Braden’s keen ID skills. Only a handful of whimbrels end up in Montana each year, and almost never west of the divide. This was the first one recorded at Ninepipe in six years—a truly rare find that helped render the entire day a spectacular hit, even though it wasn’t half over.
A clean sweep of large prairie-dwelling shorebirds at Benton Lake NWR, including Upland Sandpiper, Long-billed Curlew (that didn’t turn into a whimbrel), Willets, and Marbled Godwits.

**Grabbing Bird of the Day honors, we caught this rare-for-Montana Hudsonian Whimbrel hanging out with some distant Canada Geese!**

Speaking of Benton Lake, this was the first time we’d birded there in mid-May and it was interesting to note who was home. Usually, for instance, there are thousands of breeding Franklin’s Gulls, but we saw only a couple of dozen. Ditto for Eared Grebes which can dot the lake in the many hundreds. We counted fewer than one hundred, though couldn’t accurately assess the far sides of the upper lake where they mostly hang out. On the other hand, we saw more White-faced Ibises than we’d ever seen—about seventy. It’s hard to make any generalizations from this since the bar charts show that all of these birds should be there in strong numbers now, but we did feel that some of the birds are arriving a bit late this year.

**A great bonus to birding this time of the year was witnessing several species courting and mating, including these Western Grebes.**

Other great birds we saw or heard included Yellow-breasted Chat, a lagging Snow Goose, a Horned Grebe, Cassin’s Vireo, Chestnut-collared and Thick-billed Longspurs, Wilson’s Phalarope, Swainson’s Hawk, and the marsh trifecta of Sora, Virginia Rail, and Wilson’s Snipe. We definitely had a few misses, such as Common Loon, Golden Eagle, Black Tern, and Black-crowned Night Heron but we all agreed that the birds really came through for us, perhaps having heard that our efforts were going to help birds!

Our final tally came in at a mind-blowing 135 species—enough to bankrupt our sponsors and ensure that we will participate in Birdathons far into the future!

**Photography did not rank high on our list of priorities during Birdathon, but this Dark-eye Junco with prey did pose for my best ever DEJU shot.**

Bird ID Answers: Long-billed Curlew (1), American Avocets (2), Marbled Godwits (5).

Fulvous Whistling-Duck: Bird #15 on Braden’s ABA Life List Countdown

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As you read this Sneed is eagerly preparing for the Ute Mountain Mesa Verde Birding Festival (see our recent post Birding Festivals of the West 2026) in Cortez, Colorado. Meanwhile, Braden is birding through east Texas, helping his college friend Ryan achieve his Big Year ambitions. Fittingly, today’s blog post reports on a bird frequently found in Texas—but that Braden first recently found in Southern California. With its discovery, Braden has only 14 regularly occurring species to see on his countdown of ABA Lower 48 birds (see our recent post Lower 48 Life List Countdown: Crissal Thrasher). Enjoy his report!

I haven’t exactly been on top of rare bird reports during the last few years. When I was younger, I subscribed to all the eBird alerts I could: the ABA Rare Bird Alert, the Montana Rare Bird Alert, and even the Missoula County Rare Bird Alert. I also regularly visited birding pages on Facebook, meaning that if a bird in my region showed up where it wasn’t supposed to, I knew about it pretty quickly. Recently, though, I’ve unsubscribed from many of those alerts, and don’t use Facebook as much. So I consider it lucky that I found out about the California Fulvous Whistling-Ducks by accidentally scrolling past an Instagram post.

**My dad saw his first Fulvous Whistling-Ducks in Texas only in 2025, so it felt like a strange coincidence for me to have a crack at them now, a thousand miles away in California.**

According to eBird, the pair of whistling-ducks showed up at the 20,000-acre San Jacinto Wildlife Area in late January, 2026, about a month before I learned about them. Fulvous Whistling-Ducks have a cosmopolitan distribution, being found in both North and South America as well as Africa and the Indian subcontinent. Historically, the species never lived in the United States, but arrived in Florida, the Gulf Coast states and California from the tropics during the nineteenth century. At one point in the early 1900s, Fulvous Whistling-Ducks bred as far north as San Francisco! Following this aggressive colonization period, however, their populations fluctuated wildly, and especially declined on the West Coast. In California, they now only occasionally breed at the Salton Sea (which I did visit last fall to see a Yellow-footed Gull), with no recent breeding records on eBird. The last time the species bred at San Jacinto, according to a local birder, was pre-1950.

**The San Jacinto Wildlife Refuge quickly showed me its importance as a haven for waterfowl. Here, a stunning Green-winged Teal dazzles under full sunlight!**

I’d never actually looked for Fulvous Whistling-Ducks before. The closest I’d been to the species was probably during my trip to Florida with my friend Nick Ramsey in 2022, when we passed one of the state’s most reliable spots for the species: Lake Apopka. Unfortunately, we couldn’t visit Lake Apopka due to the wildlife drive only being open on specific days of the week. I suppose my dad and I also could have seen the species on our visit to Anahuac (now Jocelyn Nugaray) National Wildlife Refuge way back in 2016, but I doubt that the species was even on my radar at the time. The bottom line is that I was shocked to see a pair show up so close to where I was currently working, in Running Springs, California—and I had no choice but to try to find them!

**Tricolored Blackbirds, an endangered species that has suffered catastrophic declines during the past century, were a delightful surprise during my San Jacinto visit.**

February 14th was an unusually foggy day in the San Bernardino Valley, and it seemed to only get foggier as I entered the grassy hills south of Redlands. I’d never been to this area before, and was pleasantly surprised to find dairy farms complete with muddy pastures and flocks of foraging blackbirds. As I entered the wildlife area, the fog gave way to sun and the pastures transitioned to open grasslands, some of the only ones I’d ever seen in California. A Loggerhead Shrike darted across the road in front of my car and I stopped periodically to peer at Mountain Bluebirds, Western Meadowlarks, American Pipits and a variety of sparrows perched on the fencing. The pavement turned to dirt, and I soon spotted wetlands and flooded fields on the horizon. This winter had brought heavy rains to much of southern California, and golden flowers decorated the hills.

In no time, I recognized the value of San Jacinto Wildlife Area to wintering birds. Flocks of waterfowl, especially Northern Shoveler, Ruddy Duck and Northern Pintail, as well as shorebirds and waders like Least Sandpiper and White-faced Ibis, covered the fields and ponds. A Peregrine Falcon alighted on a telephone pole, and I pulled over next to a wire absolutely covered in Tree and Barn Swallows, the first I’d seen this year. Apparently, some of the Barn Swallows that breed in Argentina and Chile spend the winter in the southern United States, and I found a few contenders for austral birds among the flock.

**It’s impossible not to stop for a photo op when a pair of Cinnamon Teal willingly presents itself!**

I followed coordinates to find the whistling-ducks and they proved easy to locate on a small island as soon as I pulled alongside a large pond. They’re pretty ducks, clad in earthy orange with what appear to be claw marks along their sides. They also stand taller than other ducks, as all whistling-ducks do, and nearby Gadwall, Cinnamon Teal and American Coot provided careful comparison. As I watched them preen through my scope, a pair of local birders walked up to me.

**Hopefully, this pair of Fulvous Whistling-Ducks will pioneer a new, invigorated population of the ducks in Southern California.**

“You see these next boxes?” one of them said, “The refuge has been putting them up in the hopes that this pair will nest here this year.”

“Are whistling-ducks cavity nesters?” I asked.

The birder replied. “I believe they can do both—nest in holes and on the ground.”

While I didn’t have particularly high expectations, I do have to admit that it would be pretty cool to see the first breeding whistling-ducks at San Jacinto in the 21st century!

(Note: according to Cornell’s Birds of the World, there have been reports of cavity nesting, but the vast majority of nests are built of vegetation in “dense floating or flooded emergent (herbaceous) vegetation.” This includes weedy rice fields. Unlike most waterfowl, FUWD pairs form strong long-term bonds and males participate greatly in incubation and the rearing of young.)

Fulvous Whistling-Duck is the last regularly-occurring waterfowl species that I checked off of my Lower 48 life list, and it felt a little surreal to see them standing there on that sparkling day in southern California. The first bird on my life list is a waterfowl, the Bufflehead, and I can still remember it clearly, my dad and I standing in the frigid January cold at Lee Metcalf National Wildlife Refuge, our Sibley guide open as we tried to identify that small, black and white duck. Ducks are gateway birds, easy to see and identify, and the focal species for the protection of so many wetlands around the U.S., especially in the West. To be seeking, once more, a species from the same group of birds that welcomed me to the birding world, is something that made my trip to San Jacinto all the more special.