Category Archives: Ducks and Geese

Payin’ Raptor Dues, Reapin’ Raptor Rewards

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Gamblers and fishermen are famous for being superstitious. Birders aren’t much better. Sure, we feed ourselves platitudes such as, “The more you get out, the more you’ll see,” but deep down, we know that the birding gods control our fates, and that our success depends on whether we’re deemed worthy. In our last post, I recounted how Braden and I spent six hours and two days looking for a Gyrfalcon near White Sulpher Springs, only to endure the gods’ wrath. Yesterday morning, when we set out on a quest for a Snowy Owl, we wondered if the gods would continue to scorn us, or whether we had proven ourselves humble and dedicated enough to curry their birdly favor.

Northern Harriers and other raptors were abundant wherever we looked. They, unfortunately, were not the birds we set out to see!

We left the house at 6:30 a.m. and by 7:30 were at Ninepipe National Widlife Refuge, where we hoped to score an elusive Year Bird, Short-eared Owl. We drove the dirt roads for more than an hour and saw more than a dozen Red-tailed Hawks, Rough-leggeds, Bald Eagles, Harriers—even a Merlin. No Short-eared Owl. “Ah, well,” I told Braden. “We’ll get ‘em next time.” Inside, though, I was thinking, “Oh, man. Is it going to be that kind of day? Again?”

Well, apparently, it was. Reaching the Snowy Owl neighborhood near Kalispell, we again drove for more than an hour without so much of a glimpse of a white owl. By now, I realized that the BGs must be really pissed at us. We decided to chase some other birds and come back later, however, and did score our first Gray-crowned Rosy-finches in three years at the Kalispell dump—while getting bawled out by the “dump lady” for our efforts. We also found a White-winged Crossbill among a flock of Red Crossbills feeding on some nearby spruce trees. Nice, but not a Snowy Owl.

Mallards are no doubt the most underrated duck, but this flock of five thousand birds made a big impression on Braden and me!

After a lunch at Panera Bread (hey, more chicken in my Napa Almond Chicken Salad Sandwich, please!), including our favorite kitchen sink cookies, we hit an amazing field full of about 5,000 Mallards. Stunning! Then, we returned to the Snowy Owl site, where we encountered several other birders. None of them had had any success, either, but while we were commiserating, a photographer named Dick Walker introduced himself and asked, “Are you the father-son birding team?” We’d never been called that, but I answered “Yes,” and he started talking about the Mallard spot we’d just left. He showed us photos of Lapland Longspurs and, most exciting, a Gyrfalcon he had seen only thirty minutes before!

We tore back to the place, forever hopeful. No longspurs. No falcon. After fifteen minutes, though, a massive group of a thousand Mallards lifted off and seconds later, a sleek, jet-fighter shape zoomed across our field of vision. “It’s the Gyr!” Braden shouted.

Our first Gyr was a darker bird and left no doubt it was master of the skies. We’ll never forget it!

Indeed it was. We quickly lost it in the distance and decided to race over to another road closer to where it disappeared. We got there and jumped out of the car just as the amazing raptor reappeared, obviously enjoying terrifying the thousands of ducks and geese swirling around it. While Braden set up our scope, I tracked the bird with my binoculars. It seemed to toy with a large group of ducks, but its madness had some method as more and more Mallards peeled off until only two remained. As I watched, breathless, the Gyr hit one of them and took it to the ground. “It got a duck!” I shouted.

I was astounded how quickly this Baldie swooped in to steal the Gyr’s kill. It made me wonder how many ducks the falcon has to kill before it actually gets to eat one!

Its victory was temporary. Within thirty seconds, a much larger brown shape swooped in—an immature Bald Eagle. It effortlessly drove the Gyr from its kill, eliciting shouts of outrage from yours truly. We continued watching the amazing creature for another fifteen minutes before it vanished again. Then, after another unsuccessful Snowy Owl circuit, we began the long drive home. As we headed south along Flathead Lake, I thought about BB King, who often talked about paying his dues, and asked myself why we’d seen a Gyrfalcon here, in the last place we’d ever expected. “Maybe our efforts in White Sulphur Springs satisfied the birding gods after all,” I speculated. “Or maybe we just had to pay our birding dues to see the Gyr.” Either way, it had been one of the best birding days Braden and I had ever experienced—even without the Snowy Owl.

250 Montana Birds or Bust!

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As always, we encourage you to share this post in the hopes that it might keep education rolling during these difficult, unprecedented times. Thank you!

In our last post, I explained how close Braden and I had come to reaching our goal of 250 Montana species for the year. Braden, in fact, had reached 245 birds while I pulled up the rear with 239. Now, as some of your comments pointed out, 250 species would seem like a slam dunk with six months to go in 2020, but not so. Not only had we exhausted our supply of “easy birds”, but another large birding safari seemed unlikely—until, that is, Braden and his birding buddy Nick Ramsey came up with the idea for a Big Day. The plan? To get up before dawn and drive 500 miles, birding Ninepipe National Wildlife Refuge, the Swan River Valley, Glacier National Park, all the way to Malta, home of Bowdoin NWR. Insane? Yes. Would we do it? Definitely!

None of us knew how many species we might see in a day. Our record for a day in Montana was only in the 80 or so species range, but we’d never attempted anything like this and hoped we might get as many as 150. Alas, the weather gods frowned on us the morning of June 30, with steady drizzling rain. Undaunted, we set off, missing a number of target species here in Missoula and near the National Bison Range. At Ninepipe NWR, however, we hit Short-eared Owl City! Braden and Nick both still needed SEOWs for their Year Lists, but neither of us had ever seen one at Ninepipe until I spotted one about a month ago. This morning, driving Duck Road in the rain, we hadn’t gone a mile before Braden shouted, “There’s an owl!” In the next three miles, we saw NINE MORE! Maybe they should call the refuge Nineowls?

Our first Big Success of our first Big Day was to hit the Short-eared Owl Jackpot at Ninepipe NWR.

After missing LeConte’s Sparrow at Swan Valley (but seeing lots of Lincoln’s Sparrows), we headed to Glacier, where my top priority of the trip just might be located: Harlequin Duck. With the coronavirus raging, we didn’t know what kind of traffic we might expect, but the poor weather ended up a blessing as we cruised right into the park and made record time to Avalanche Creek. Still, none of us really expected to see a Harlequin Duck as the males had fled and breeding was probably winding down. We walked out onto the beach on the river, though, and sixty seconds later, we all saw a duck flying downstream. It was a female Harlequin! Even better, it landed fifty feet from us! None of us could believe it. After admiring the beautiful creature, we walked around a bit, picking up the eerie calls of Varied Thrushes, but failing to get our pie-in-the-sky target, Black Swifts. Still, our stop a success, we headed back out to West Glacier and began the six-hour drive to Bowdoin, picking up new birds all along the way and ending up with a day’s total of 119 species—a personal Montana record and not bad given the weather.

One of my favorite all-time birds, this Harlequin Duck was just waiting for us as we zoomed into Glacier National Park during our (first) Big Day!

Of course, the problem with doing a Big Day that finishes up in a place like Malta, Montana, is that you have to get back home again! Not surprisingly, we spent two days finding our way home—and not without some adventures that included Braden almost stepping on a rattlesnake, almost getting our minivan permanently mired in mud far from civilization, and getting a rear tire blowout—fortunately, just at an exit in Butte.

On Day 2 of our, ahem, Big Day, we had some of our best experiences with nesting shorebirds—including the spectacular American Avocet at Bowdoin National Wildlife Refuge!

“So did you make your 250 birds?” you may be asking yourselves. Well . . . YES! Braden finished the trip with 255 species for the year while I slipped in there with 251. Which begs another question, “What now?” Well, fortunately birding is fun, interesting, and educational even without keeping track of lists. Every day, in fact, we see cool birds and learn more about them. Will we object if our species counts climb higher in the next six months? No way, but do we need them to? Naw. Birds are great any time and in any season—even if we’ve seen them before.

Winter Birding in Israel, Part II: Valley of the Cranes

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This week, enjoy Braden’s Part II of an Undetermined Series of Posts about our recent birding adventures in Israel and Jordan!

Over the next few days, our host family showed us around Northern Israel. We explored Akko, a seaside town with a great market full of delicious Arab and Jewish food and tall, Crusader-era walls. In Haifa, we took a drive around Mount Carmel and dined on amazing pizza and fantastic pistachio ice cream. My dad and I even spotted a Eurasian Griffon soaring over a residential area, a rare species of vulture that nested in the Carmel range. 

A lone Eurasian Spoonbill enjoys refuge in the Hula Valley Nature Reserve, once part of a vast wetlands that covered much of north-central Israel.

After sightseeing, though, we were ready to do some serious birding. One day, my dad, one of our friends named Noam and I hopped on the train to Haifa (spotting flamingos feeding in salt ponds on the way), where we were picked up by our host’s brother Barak and father Avi. We headed north, stopping only to grab a snack at a roadside falafel & humus stand overlooking the vast Sea of Galilee and its nearby canyons and mosques. Soon, though, we left the mountains, driving past agricultural fields filled with Common Cranes. Eventually we arrived at the Hula Valley Nature Reserve, and were greeted by a large, modern visitor center. The best way to sightsee the refuge was to rent a golf cart, and that we did, setting off around a lake at Formula 1 speeds—about 10 miles per hour. We were soon greeted by hundreds of cranes, as well as various tactics that farmers used to prevent the birds from eating their crops. Every few minutes a gunshot, firework or horn would echo across the landscape (the birds were protected, don’t worry), and we even glimpsed a few people chasing the huge flocks.

In the Hula, we got our first great look of the trip at what would prove to be one of our Top Five favorite Israeli birds—the White-throated Kingfisher.

Before reaching the main lake, we stopped at a forested spot and were immediately astonished to see not one, but two birds that we’d been hoping to see: a White-throated Kingfisher and a Eurasian Hoopoe! The large kingfisher showed off its azure wings as it scanned the ground for rodents, while the hoopoe foraged quietly like a flicker, probably looking for ants. Spur-winged Lapwings, birds with sharp patterns of black and white on their wings, stood right by the path, unafraid, and almost every bird in the area allowed us to snap sharp, close-up photos. Before leaving we spotted a pair of European Goldfinches, chirping cheerfully despite their “sunburnt” faces.

At the lake itself bird activity increased substantially. Raptors were abundant, including Black and Black-winged Kites, Eurasian Marsh-Harriers, Common Buzzards and Eurasian Kestrels, all flying over the marshes. One kestrel even posed for us on a sign, devouring a mouse right in front of us! The species diversity of ducks was low, but those that were here, primarily shovelers, mallards and teal, foraged in the fields in huge numbers, and Eurasian Coots, Eurasian Moorhens and Little Grebes floated on the water. Shorebirds and waders also were present, and we spotted a few Glossy Ibises, Black-winged Stilts, Ruff and a single Eurasian Spoonbill by the shoreline. Gray Herons, Great, Cattle and Little Egrets and Great and Pygmy Cormorants topped every bare branch and island in the area.

As this Eurasian Kestrel can attest to, there’s nothing like a good stretch after tearing the head off a mouse!

At a lookout a helpful naturalist pointed out several harder-to-see species to us, including Black-tailed Godwits and Northern Lapwings hiding in the distance among the huge numbers of cranes. I snapped photos of several raptors that flew by, later identifying them as eagles! The two we spotted were Booted and Greater Spotted, just a small percentage of the eagle species the Old World supported. Pied Avocets floated on the waves of the pond like ducks.

Sing along with us: “One of these things is not like the other. One of these things is not the same. One of these things—” Oh, you get the idea. It’s hard to blend in with 30,000 Common Cranes!

We completed our loop, tracking down cranes for better photos and spotting a Common Kingfisher skulking in the brush back at the visitor center, the only one we’d see for the rest of the trip! This little refuge, surrounded by farmland, was all that remained of the huge wetlands that had once covered much of this area and supported hippos, ostriches and cheetahs. While much of the diversity of the past had disappeared, Hula still provides habitat for thousands of birds during all seasons and efficiently allows the public to experience them. The day had not disappointed. 

All photos and text on FatherSonBirding.com are strictly protected under U.S. copyright law. To request permission to use, contact Sneed at sbcollardiii+2@gmail.com.

Make 2020 a Year of Saving Birds!

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Welcome to all of our new subscribers—and thank you for your interest! Please note that Braden and I are about to embark on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to the Middle East, so won’t be posting for a few weeks. When we do, we should have some amazing stories to share!

Season’s Greetings Fellow Birders! Between school exams, swim meets, book deadlines, and the general craziness of life, Braden and I haven’t been out birding a lot in the last few months, but we wanted to wish all of you Happy Holidays and a dawning new year of birding. With your patience, we’d also like to reflect a bit on the past year, the future, and what we can all do to help the animals that we love.

Getting to know Montana birds better—including this fabulous Harlequin Duck on McDonald Creek in Glacier National Park—has been one of the major 2019 achievements for Braden and me.

It was another amazing year of birding for Team Collard. Without intending to, we smashed our Montana Big Year records by at least a dozen birds each, with Sneed logging 222 species in the state (15 more species than in 2017) and Braden recording 225 species—12 more than in 2017. We also broke our combined Big Year record, though we’re too lazy to figure out the total (about 340 species together). This year, Braden tallied 44 new Life Birds while I added 21.

But while statistics are fun and motivating, for us they really aren’t what birding is about. Birding brings so many benefits to our lives, it’s hard to list them all, but top of the list are a chance to get outside, explore new places, see new species, learn about our remarkable planet, educate others about birding, and most of all, spend time together. This year, our favorite experiences included:

Perhaps our most rewarding 2020 activity? Leading birding trips for a new generation of young—and “almost young”—birders!

1) Participating in the San Diego Bird Festival

2) Getting to know Montana birds better

3) Leading birding trips for school groups and others

That last one brings up an important point. Those of us who love birds owe it to the planet to do as much as we can to protect them. That includes educating other people about the importance of birds and what’s happening to them worldwide. Don’t short-sell yourself. If you’ve ever been birding at all, you have important knowledge to share. Most people know almost nothing about birds, so even teaching a friend how to identify a House Sparrow or an American Goldfinch could be the beginning of a long and rewarding journey.

We were thrilled this fall to observe and help participate in long-term studies of bird migrations through western Montana using banding and flight call studies. Here, a Townsend’s Warbler (I think) gets unceremoniously dunked head-first into a weighing canister. This does nothing to harm the bird, but gives scientists at MPG Ranch and the University of Montana’s Bird Ecology Lab important data for monitoring and protecting songbirds.

We especially want to encourage everyone to give as much money—yes, cold hard CASH—as you can to organizations that are helping birds. Because of this year’s higher standard tax deduction, charitable donations have plummeted, and that has hurt a lot of nonprofit groups—especially in an era when they need support more than ever. Keep in mind, too, that if you donate to National Audubon, that doesn’t necessarily do much to support your state and local Audubon chapters. You have to give to all three. Here are some of Braden’s and my favorite groups that we give to:

National Audubon Society, and State and local Audubon chapters

The Cornell Lab of Ornithology

Owl Research Institute

BirdLife International

American Bird Conservancy

Please check out these groups and GIVE UNTIL IT HURTS. We thank you, and appreciate all you do to share your love of birds and, even more, to make sure that the next generation enjoys a bird-rich planet.

This Western Screech Owl says: “Instead of buying friends and family more junk this holiday season, why not give them a LASTING gift with a donation to the Owl Research Institute and other bird conservation organizations?”

Talkin’ About Teals

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Braden is off this week so I’m filling in. Just kidding. Birders are never off. Don’t you know that by now? I did want to use this week, however, to talk about an especially cool group of ducks that we observed during our recent Big Weekend. You got it: teals.

Always a favorite of hunters, Blue-winged Teal have a more subtle beauty than other species.

We left Missoula about noon on the Friday of Memorial Day weekend and I have to admit, the only ducks on our minds were the fabled Harlequin Ducks, which we hoped to glimpse in Glacier National Park—and add to our Year Lists. We did get two spectacular experiences with Harlequins—a breeding pair at Josephine Lake in the Many Glacier area and a lone male on MacDonald Creek the next day. I have to say, though, that the teals matched the Harlequins for beauty, and overpowered them with raw abundance.

Cinnamon Teals are not only one of the most beautiful ducks, they are one of the most rare. According to Ducks Unlimited, estimates of breeding population are between 100,000 and 300,000.

We saw all four species of common teals on our trip: Green-winged, Blue-winged, Cinnamon, and Northern Shoveler—which I didn’t realize was a teal until Braden informed me of the fact. To make matters even more confusing, the last three species are in the genus Spatula while the Green-winged Teal is in the genus Anas with a bunch of other dabbling ducks. Go figure. But full disclosure: I am not a taxonomist, so let’s not get too hung up on that now.

Several things impressed us about these four species—especially the three birds in Spatula—a name that undoubtedly has something to do with the Northern Shovelers impressively wide honker. The first thing, of course, is that these species of ducks are exceptionally beautiful. Stunning, in fact. Just look at the photos of the males. I mean, “Whoa Dude, where’d you get those threads?”

I first fell in love with Northern Shovelers during our 2016 Big Year and grow more impressed with them at every encounter.

Another thing about these ducks is that they all seem to adopt similar lifestyles. We kept finding them together in many of the same places: Browns Lake, Benton National Wildlife Refuge, and even the prairie potholes along the highway. Not surprising since they are all dabbling ducks and prefer to nest in or near shallow bodies of water.

The real kicker for us, though, happened at our very first stop, Browns Lake. Braden was looking at a group of ducks on a small pond and he said, “Doesn’t something look a little odd about that duck?” I studied it and agreed. “I think it’s a Cinnamon—Shoveler Hybrid,” he offered. “What? Really?” I’d heard of hybrids but figured they were exceptionally rare. Then again, this duck didn’t look like anything else we’d seen. I suggested that it looked more like a Blue-winged—Shoveler hybrid because of the white crescent behind the bill. “Other teals also can show that in their juvenile phases,” Braden pointed out. Smart-alec kid.

Shoveler—Blue-winged hybrid? Shoveler—Cinnamon? Send us your thoughts with a comment!

One thing was for certain. This bird had not followed the rule books for sticking to one particular species. Interestingly, another teal hybrid was IDed in a different Montana location by another birder the same week. The lesson? If you keep going out there to look, the birds will keep surprising you.