Category Archives: Bird Behavior

Fall Surprises

Fall birding can be tough—at least in Montana.

I just completed a five-day return trip from Missoula to Billings, mainly to promote my new book Warblers & Woodpeckers, and I have only question: Where were the birds? Sure, I found some, but with much lower abundance and diversity than I expected. Even at places I’d seen a lot of fall species before, my best lists barely cracked a dozen. I would have notched more if I’d been better at identifying LBBs—Little Brown Birds. For instance, I took photos of a sparrow at Shiloh Conservation Area in Billings and glimpsed another intriguing group at Two Moons Park, but couldn’t ID any of them.

Lousy, no-good rotten sparrows.

Our first-ever Montana Surf Scoter—to be followed by a second one (a female) a few days later.

I shouldn’t really complain since Braden and I have seen some wonderful birds the past few weeks. About two weeks ago, we saw our very first Montana Surf Scoter at one of our favorite birding spots, the gravel quarry. The bird was a stunning black male and just what such an ocean-loving bird was doing in Montana is a matter for debate. Since we started birding five years ago, however, scoters seem to be rare but reliable visitors.

A few days later, I was giving Braden a driving lesson in the parking lot of the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation. After practicing parking thirty or forty times, I said, “C’mon. Let’s grab our gear and go see if any birds are around.” Not five minutes later, Braden spotted not one, but two White-throated Sparrows. Normally Eastern birds, these are real finds for Missoula and can only be spotted with diligent effort—and a lot of luck—during fall migration.

This was only our second location seeing White-throated Sparrows in Montana. A delightful surprise!

Alas, we’ve seen fewer warblers and other fall migrants than last fall, and that was reinforced on my trip across the state. I saw a smattering of good ducks (Redheads, Barrow’s Goldeneyes, and Ruddy Ducks) at Warm Springs, Three Forks ponds, and Lake Elmo State Park. I also spotted a Common Loon at Three Forks, and a nice variety of Western, Horned, Eared, and Pied-billed Grebes in most places I looked. But songbirds? They seemed to totally shun me on the trip.

When I returned home, I shared my photos with Braden. As we flipped through them, he nodded and politely murmured, “Nice. Uh-huh. Good one.”

Until I came to that mystery sparrow from Shiloh.

“Whoa. Wait a minute!” he exclaimed, opening Sibley’s. “Now I’m excited.”

“Why? What do you think it is?” I asked.

There are only about fifty records of Swamp Sparrows in Montana. Lucky me, this one decided to say hello!

“What do you think it is?” he countered.

“I couldn’t decide,” I said. “It looks kind of like a Song Sparrow, but doesn’t have the stripes. I thought maybe Lincoln’s, but it doesn’t have the orange colorings.”

Braden handed me Sibley’s. “I’m pretty sure it’s a Swamp Sparrow. They’re like, Code 4 for Montana.”

Now, my adrenaline was pumping too. “Really?”

We pored through the descriptions and compared it with my photos. Not only did the bird look identical to its description and illustration, I had found it in just the kind of habitat that Swamp Sparrows love.

Maybe fall birding in Montana isn’t so bad after all!

Icelandic Seabird Storm

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Braden here again for my second Iceland post.

Saturday, July 14^th, 2018. 9:00 a.m.

I have just finished breakfast and arrived on the bridge of the National Geographic Explorer. We are continuing our circumnavigation of Iceland, and this is our first day with some free time at sea. I have chosen to spend that time on the bridge, searching for marine mammals and possibly life birds. There are two seabirds in specific I am hoping for: Great Skua and Northern Gannet. Neither are particularly rare, but I have yet to see them.

Great Skuas, the “pirates of the seas”, will chase down other birds and steal their food. (Photo by Braden Collard)

James (Jamie) Coleman, one of the ship’s naturalists and leading bird experts, is also on the bridge, and he knows my quest. “You seen a Skua yet?” he asks me. “They’re everywhere this morning.”

“No, I’ve mostly been focusing on sleeping and eating.”

“Ah. I guess that’s also important. Anyways, keep your eyes open. We’ve also seen some White-beaked Dolphins.”

I settle into a chair, and, seeing no activity in or over the water, begin reading a large guide book titled Marine Mammals of the World.

“Is that the one by Bob Pitman?” Jamie asks.

I nod.

“He’s seen every marine mammal in the world but two, I think.”

“Has he seen a Vaquita?” I ask, knowing that the endangered porpoise’s last stand was going down in the Gulf of California.

“Yeah—he’s working with the Mexican government right now to save them.”

“Cool!”

“Oh, I’ve got a skua!” Jamie suddenly exclaims. “Flying right in front of the bow!”

I quickly raise my binoculars to see a large, dark bird with silver wing patches flying directly in front of the ship, its wingbeats heavy.

Approximately one second later, the Explorer’s captain, Aaron Woods, shouts, “Gannet! Even with the horizon—two o’clock and moving left!”

I again raise my binoculars level to the horizon. Far off, a bird that appears to be the opposite of a skua catches my eye. Its feathers are a clean white, with black tips on the wings, and its outline is sleek.

Like their southern cousins the boobies, gannets will perform spectacular vertical plunge-dives while hunting. (Photo by Braden Collard)

“How’s that?” Jamie asks, “Two lifers in the same two seconds!”

I grin. “Awesome!”

During the next couple of days, as we continue back towards Reykjavik, seabird numbers pick up. On my last full day on the ship, it all culminates in one big seabird showdown.

We have just left the island of Heimaey, the only inhabited island of the Westmann Archipelago, and the Explorer is headed for Surtsey, the new island to the south. I am on the bridge again, as is Jamie, talking about what else has been spotted. Suddenly, he looks up and spies a large, white cloud in the distance.

“Feeding frenzy!”

As our ship draws closer, I see large, straight dorsal fins rising from the water. Killer Whales!

Killer Whales, or Orcas, are actually dolphins–the largest in the world!

There are at least 30 Killer Whales, or orcas, on all sides of the boat now, feeding on whatever huge school of fish swarms below the waves. The whales aren’t the only ones feasting. A tornado of gannets has engulfed us, following the whales. At certain points, squadrons of them leave the storm to plunge-dive, torpedoing straight into the water.

Northern Fulmars, the common tubenoses here, are also in large numbers, and have attracted their rarer cousins, Manx and Sooty Shearwaters! These just remind me of how many miles seabirds have under their wings—the Manx’s have probably bred on the coast of Britain, while the Sooties could have travelled from as far as New Zealand!

Northern Fulmars are circumpolar–meaning they live all around the Arctic Ocean. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Fire In The Hole!

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Braden here.

At 6:30 on Sunday, June 17^th, retired UM Professor Dick Hutto picked up my dad and me to go birding. In the passenger seat of Dick’s car was Dick’s former graduate student Hugh Powell, who was in Missoula to write an article for the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. Our mission was simple: see a Black-backed Woodpecker.

Townsend’s Warbler. (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

We were headed to an area known as the Rice Ridge Fire (after a quick coffee stop), to the northeast of Missoula. The first time we had heard about this trip was at Montana Audubon’s Wings Across the Big Sky Bird Festival. A birder from Helena told us that Dick (who had an abundance of bird knowledge, specifically about birds that liked fire) was leading a field trip up to the burn and mentioned we might want to come along. My dad, who knew Dick well, jumped at the chance and asked Dick if we could get a ride up with him. Well, here we were.

At Seeley Lake, a large tourist area as well as great birding stop, we met the rest of the group, all birders of different experience levels from Helena. Knowing that this area was good for American Redstarts and Northern Waterthrushes, my dad and I persuaded the group to look around Seeley before hitting the burn. We quickly saw and heard 15 species, including the uncommon Willow Flycatcher, identified by its characteristic call, Fitz-bew.

We slowly made our way up Rice Ridge Road, stopping regularly to look for our goal, the Black-backed. The burn area had not been logged, thankfully, and every time we stopped Dick emphasized that it should not be logged, either—why not just cut trees near town instead? Burn areas have some of the highest levels of biodiversity in the country! (For more information on this, check out my dad’s book, Fire Birds: Valuing Natural Wildfires and Burned Forests.)

Lincoln’s Sparrows are known for nesting in higher altitude wet areas. (Photo by Braden Collard)

No Black-backeds showed, but the birds did not disappoint—MacGillavry’s Warblers and Lincoln’s Sparrows skulked in the low brush, Bluebirds danced across the black trunks, and woodpeckers of many species drummed and called. On that one stretch of road we observed four species—Northern Flicker, Hairy Woodpecker, Williamson’s Sapsucker, and (new for the year) at least three American Three-toed Woodpeckers, the Black-backed’s slightly less burn-dependent cousin.

In one spot, sort of a mix of burn and old-growth with a creek running through it, we were amazed with the number of species. A dipper, nesting under the bridge. Great looks at a Townsend’s Warbler. Large numbers of Western Tanagers and robins, both burn-preferring species. Sharon Dewart-Hansen, a Helena woman who was first in the state for the year, pointed out a new call for us—the Whip Three Beers of the Olive-sided Flycatcher.

Dick was slightly disappointed at the low number of woodpeckers, saying they would reach their peak two or three years from now, but everyone else was ecstatic. It had been a great trip, Black-backed or not.

The number of American Three-toed Woodpeckers that are in burns is double that of those not in burns. (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Birding the Galapagos

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As we watched these male frigate birds ardently advertising for a mate, a female landed next to one of them. Let the family begin! (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Almost exactly two years ago, our family was fortunate to visit the Galapagos Islands. Braden and I eagerly anticipated the birds we might see, but weren’t sure what birding might be like in one of the world’s most famous places. Our findings? That while the Galapagos is full of fascinating birds to see, it is one of the world’s best places to think more deeply about birds, their evolution, and behavior.

Upon arriving, the first thing we noticed is how tame Galapagos birds are. Many, after all, evolved with few predators to worry about, and this was clearly demonstrated as we hiked within a few feet of nesting Blue- and Red-footed Boobies, Magnificent Frigatebirds, and a sublime Galapagos Dove. Even Yellow Warblers hopped around our feet seemingly without fear. Just try getting close to one in Montana! This close proximity, of course, was great for photography, but also for watching bird behaviors up-close.

Watching these flightless (Galapagos) cormorants perform their intricate mating dance was one of many unexpected, delightful birding surprises we experienced in the islands. (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

One time, we stood thirty feet from four or five male frigatebirds sitting in stick nests that they had built. When a female flew over, the males all spread their wings, puffed out their gular pouches, and “rattled” their beaks. It was their way of shouting “Choose me!” It worked too! As we watched, a female landed next to one of the males to begin the “dating” rituals.

The most interesting Galapagos birds were the finches. Perhaps the drabbest, least noticeable birds in the islands, the finches played a key role in helping Charles Darwin tease out the basics of evolution by natural selection. How? When he visited the islands in 1835, he collected many animal specimens—including finches—from the different islands. Back in England, a colleague informed him that the finches actually included many different species. This, along with observations he’d made on Galapagos tortoises and other species, helped Darwin realize how different habitats and conditions can shape animals and create new species.

One Galapagos finch that Darwin missed is the Coke-swilling Finch—a rare species we were lucky enough to see in action! (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

During our visit to the islands, Braden and I barely got started learning to identify the different finches, but we soon began to distinguish between larger and smaller species. Evolution has especially acted on the birds’ beaks, both in size and shape, as the beaks are a key to what size seeds and other foods the birds can eat. Not surprisingly, the beaks have formed the basis of long-term studies by modern scientists, as documented in one of my favorite books, Jonathan Weiner’s excellent The Beak of the Finch: A Story of Evolution in Our Time. Check it out—and if you ever get a chance to visit the Galapagos, jump on it. It will permanently alter your perspective on birds and life on our amazing planet.

Braden and I never had any doubt about our Bird of the Trip. Every day, Blue-footed Boobies delighted us with their incredible flying and fascinating behaviors! (photo by Sneed B. Collard III)