Category Archives: Ecology

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.**

Chihuahuan Raven: Bird #12 on Braden’s ABA Life List Countdown, April 10th, 2026

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In the past few months, Braden has been on a roll finding his last couple of dozen Lower 48 ABA life birds. Today, he takes a deep dive into a bird few of us know much about and even fewer of us encounter. Remember, FatherSonBirding is written and photographed by REAL PEOPLE. If you want to support our work, please consider buying some of Sneed’s books by clicking on images to the right. Better yet, invite one or both of us to headline your next birding festival! While you’re at it, be sure to check out Sneed’s new-and-improved website at www.sneedbcollardiii.com. Thanks!

It had been years since I’d watched a pair of ravens for so long. I’d just finished birding Hanover Road, a dusty track through a habitat I’d never seen before; dry grasslands covered in large cholla cacti. Hanover Road hosted a few strange migrants, including Rock Wrens and Sage Thrashers, but I hadn’t seen either of my main targets for the area, Cassin’s Sparrow or Chihuahuan Raven. Then, just before I was about to pull onto the main highway heading back west towards Colorado Springs, I spotted them: two large, black corvids investigating a smushed prairie dog on the road. I parked my car, got my camera out, and started snapping pictures.

**The “raven neighborhood” on my recent trip through Colorado.**

This certainly wasn’t the first time I’d attempted to see Chihuahuan Ravens. On every birding trip I’d taken to Arizona I had spent increasingly more and more time looking for the large, dark birds out in the desert. Most recently, in August of 2025, I’d pulled over to look at every raven in the vicinity of the Chiricahua Mountains, coming up short over and over as I realized each and every one was a Common. Finding Chihuahuan Ravens in Texas is far easier, for no Commons occur there, but on my dad’s and my one trip to South Texas we hadn’t seen a single corvid.

**On recent trips through the Southwest, I had been frustrated several times in my search for Chihuahuan Ravens.**

The bird hadn’t even been particularly on my radar for this road trip home. After bidding the Gunnison Sage-grouse goodbye (click here) earlier that morning, I’d routed east, over the continental divide and out into the open prairie. I knew that southeastern Colorado had desert habitat, or at least desert-adjacent habitat, and had several species that I wanted to find. So, upon my arrival in the Colorado Springs area, I started driving roads through neighborhoods where my target birds had been reported. Curve-billed Thrasher and Canyon Towhee I found with ease. Finding Scaled Quail took significantly more effort, but eventually I lucked into one perched in someone’s driveway, calling loudly and attempting to jump onto a nearby truck. None of these birds were lifers but I’d never seen them in this context before, and the towhee and thrasher were new subspecies and did look notably different from the ones I’d seen in Arizona.

**While I searched for CHRAs with few expectations, I was fortunate to stumble upon a Scaled Quail.**

After texting a few friends about my finds, it dawned on me: here were species native to the Chihuahuan Desert, species I’d seen in southeast Arizona. So, if Scaled Quail, Curve-billed Thrasher and Canyon Towhee lived here, what about Chihuahuan Raven? I jumped on eBird and quickly learned the answer—this marked the northern edge of the ravens’ range, and a few individuals had been reported in the area recently. So, I kept my eyes peeled as I drove further out into the cholla-covered grassland. Sure enough, an hour later, here I was, staring down two ravens.

**Cholla cactuses were part of the interesting ecology of this unusual southern Colorado landscape—but would ravens be here?**

In all my time hunting down this species, I’d learned a lot about the identification of ravens. For one, Chihuahuan Ravens generally had longer nasal bristles, meaning that feathers covered more than half of the upper bill. The birds poking the dead prairie dog definitely had long nasal bristles compared to a Common Raven. Unfortunately, this field mark can be quite variable, so I had to look harder. Another feature of Chihuahuans is the flat head with its peak near the crown, unlike that of a Common which has a peak near the front. Again, these birds were looking more like Chihuahuans in this regard, but this field mark also could be quite variable, especially in the wind. And the wind was definitely blowing!

However, that was great news for me, because the wind gave me access to the largest, most reliable field mark—the raven’s neck feathers. Common Ravens have a gray color at the base of their neck feathers. Chihuahuans, meanwhile, have white. Thanks to the gusts rocketing over the desert landscape, the neck feathers on each bird were exposed every thirty seconds or so. After snapping some pictures and zooming in, I could clearly see that the birds in front of me had white neck feathers!

**Thanks to the gusty wind, I was able to see the most reliable ID features of the Chihuahuan Ravens—the white base of the neck feathers (the “star” shape on the bird in the above photo).**

Besides being a life bird, my experience with the pair of Chihuahuan Ravens in Colorado taught me something. These days, sometimes it feels like birding is focused on maximizing species and numbers. Birders across the US submit thousands of eBird checklists per day, and the competitiveness can be overwhelming—everyone is always trying to see just one species to add to their list. So seldom, it seems, are birders focused on just watching the birds. My quest to identify those two ravens turned into just that: I got to watch these two animals for half an hour. They flew from telephone pole to telephone pole; they hopped around on the ground; they called, foraged, shifted their weight and interacted with the world around them. Slowing down to be with these two creatures was an important reminder that birds are not numbers on lists, but real, wild animals with personalities and habits. We should all slow down and watch ravens more often.

**My time with the Chihuahuan Ravens offered an important reminder to slow down and really pay attention to the wonderful world and creatures around us.**

For more information on corvids, or the crow family of birds, check out Sneed’s recent Montana Outdoors cover story, “Corvids to Crow Over.”

How Flowers Made Our World (FSB Book Review)

Seabirds as Sentinels (FSB Book Review)

Bluebird Day at Browns Lake!

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With all of our recent posts about Costa Rica, you’re probably wondering if we ever bird in Montana anymore! Never fear, we do—a lot! Today we report on an adventure that delivered some remarkable early migration surprises. If you’d like to support our work at FSB, please consider purchasing some of Sneed’s books shown to the right—and support a group such as Birdlife International or Audubon that is working hard to protect birds against climate change and many other perils. Remember: all of our posts are written and photographed by REAL PEOPLE!

I don’t know if it’s because of our recent trip to Costa Rica, my subsequent trip to California, or just the usual spring excitement, but I’ve felt especially eager to get out birding in Montana this spring. At least part of it has to with wanting to learn more about the timing of migration, especially in a year in which Montana hardly experienced winter. How would this impact the birds? I wondered. Would we see things showing up especially early? Fortunately, our friend Susan Snetsinger has felt just as eager to explore, so the past couple of weeks Susan and I have taken all-day adventures to some of our favorite western Montana birding locations. Two weeks ago, we visited Warm Springs and the impressively “remodeled” Lexington Street Pond and wetlands in downtown Butte. We were rewarded with a great variety of waterfowl, including Snow Geese at both locations. The highlight of the day was undoubtedly a great look at a Golden Eagle on the dirt road between Racetrack Pond and Warm Springs.

**Snow Geese are always something to celebrate in Montana—including this group at Butte’s fabulously restored Lexington Street wetlands area.**

A few days ago, though, Susan and I had a different ambition: to post the season’s first eBird checklist for Browns Lake. This is one of Braden’s and my favorite birding locations, and I don’t think it has ever failed to disappoint. Not only is it a go-to place for breeding Red-necked Grebes and Black Terns, we have found a lot of uncommon species there including Long-tailed Ducks, Pacific Loons, and Ross’s Geese. Notably, this is where Braden made the astounding discovery of a Bay-breasted Warbler two years ago—one of just a handful of sightings ever recorded from western Montana.

**Although Browns (sic) Lake is frozen for a good part of the year, it has never disappointed us as a birding destination and we were eager to see what it held so early in the spring.**

One challenge with Browns Lake is that it stays frozen until relatively late in the season and I noticed on eBird that no one had yet birded it this year. I wasn’t sure if it had begun to thaw, but I asked Susan if she was game to check it out. She was—and even brought along yummy fried egg and cheese bagels to fuel our adventures.

On the drive up Highway 200, we were rewarded by two pairs of Sandhill Cranes and a glimpse of a Mountain Bluebird—perhaps a preview of things to come? We hoped so, and upon arriving at Browns Lake, were not disappointed. Right near where Braden had discovered the Bay-breasted Warbler, we got out of the car to find a delightful “finchy” mixed flock containing Red Crossbills, Pine Siskins, Evening Grosbeaks, and Cassin’s Finches.

We’re not sure why (though fish and/or animal carcasses probably have something to do with it), but Browns Lake often boasts vigorous Bald Eagle activity—and our early spring visit was no exception. Here, two youngsters contemplate the meaning of ice on this brisk sunny day.

As the lake came into view, we were relieved to see at least a third of it offered open water—and that the waterfowl were not shy about taking advantage! Within twenty minutes, we recorded fifteen species of ducks and geese, including the year’s first Montana Northern Pintails and a lone FOY Cinnamon Teal. A flock of 18-20 Snow Geese erupted out of the fields on the far side of the lake and settled in beneath a huge irrigation line. Even though a brisk wind dropped the wind chill into the teens, we looked hard through our scope for any Ross’s Geese, but came up empty.

**Elk anyone? Even though they are mere mammals, this herd against the dramatic background induced us to pull over for an admiring look.**

As has become my new routine, I directed Susan out the far side of the lake toward the Ovando-Helmville dirt road, and we were rewarded by two Northern Shrikes (Susan is certain they were separate birds), and a couple more Mountain Bluebirds. After turning left toward Helmville, we hadn’t gone a mile when we saw a sizeable flock of birds badly backlit by the sun.

“Are they some kind of blackbirds?” Susan wondered, and they did look black because of the sun, but I didn’t know. Then, she said, “There are more bluebirds over here.” “There’s a couple over here, too,” I added, still thinking they had nothing to do with the flock we’d just seen.

The bottom line? The flock we had just observed consisted entirely of Mountain Bluebirds!

**At first, we weren’t sure what these flocking birds might be, backlit against the sun, but this photo reveals the truth.**

This blew both Susan and I away. Neither of us had ever seen more than three or four Mountain Bluebirds at a time, and had no inkling that they ever formed large flocks. Yet here was the evidence in front of us, and we spent a good fifteen minutes watching them forage and swirl around us. Once, a group of at least sixty took to the sky together, only to settle back into the grass a few moments later. Meanwhile, others kept crossing the road in front and back of us, occasionally landing on the fence next to our car.

**The Mountain Bluebirds were so active around us that I dared not hope to get a photo of one—until this guy perched 15 feet away from the car window!**

We finally pulled ourselves away, wondering if local ranchers observed this kind of grouping every year. I later read up on MOBLs and found one or two mentions of them forming flocks in winter, but it didn’t seem like a well-known phenomenon. Susan and I both agreed that these cavity-nesting birds must be migrating. From here would they spread out into the surrounding mountains? Or did they still have a long way to go before trying to find their own breeding territories? As biologist Dick Hutto had taught me, Mountain Bluebirds especially love recent burn areas where woodpeckers carve out plenty of “condos” in the dead trees (see my book Fire Birds: Valuing Natural Wildfires and Burned Forests). I wondered if, as a flock, they might be better at finding recent burn areas—or did flocking impart other benefits such as greater predator or food detection?

After the Browns Lake area, we headed toward Helena, hoping to find a recently reported Lesser Black-backed Gull. Though I’d seen this species in Israel and again in Oregon, this would be a Montana lifer for me and an outright lifer for Susan.

It was not to be.

At the Helena Regulating Reservoir, we saw plenty of gulls, but many were too far away for our scope, and the ones we did see did not have the dark wings we were looking for. The trip wasn’t a waste, however, as we observed more than sixty Common Mergansers and at least ten Red-breasted Mergansers, also clearly in migration. In fact, the window to see RBMEs is quite tight in Montana, so it was nice to pick them up for 2026.

**Though we missed the Lesser Black-backed Gull, the Helena Regulating Reservoir was hosting a “regulating” merganser-pa-looza!**

Speaking of 2026, both Braden and I have excellent chances to accidentally break our world Big Year records. My record, set last year, is 552, and only a quarter of the way into this year, I’m at 422. This is not as much of a gimme as it sounds since many of the birds I’ve seen in Costa Rica and California are birds I would normally check off in Montana, but with a little luck and persistence, I feel I will get there. Braden’s record, meanwhile, is 867 and he is already at 546, with hopes to bird abroad at least one more time this year. We no longer put a lot of stock into numbers like these, but they’re a fun thing to keep an eye on.

After saying goodbye to the Helena Regulating Reservoir, Susan and I did a little more birding and then got lunch in downtown Helena. I only mention it because we ate at an excellent little crepe place called—what else?—The Creperie. It featured outstanding food and reasonable prices. It’s open until 3 p.m. most days and is located right next to the lower entrance of the walking part of Last Chance Gulch. If you’ve got the post-birding munchies, check it out!

Our first-of-the-year Browns Lake checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S313329879