Category Archives: Endangered Species

The Shorebirds of North America (Book Review)

With spring shorebird migration coming on, we take a break from our Colombian birding series to review a new book that will help prepare you for the exciting, sometimes daunting task of identifying and enjoying some of the world’s most spectacular long-distance migrants. Bird—and read—on!

Legions of FatherSonBirding readers have probably noticed that Braden and I have increasingly become interested—nay, obsessed—by shorebirds over the years. See, for example, our posts

Montana Shorebird Surprise

Abbotts Lagoon, Point Reyes National Seashore (or Chasing Migrants, Part II)

Our fascination may seem odd given that Montana is hardly the world’s epicenter of shorebird activity. Then again, their very rarity here renders them all the more alluring to find and learn about. A natural birding progression also is at work. When beginning one’s birding journey, we birders naturally focus on common, familiar species. As confidence, curiosity, and ambition grow, so does the desire to learn about and identify more difficult groups of birds. When we first began birding, Braden and I focused on woodpeckers, thrushes, waterfowl, waders, owls, and other easier-to-identify species. Over the years, we have plunged into increasingly challenging groups including warblers, sparrows, flycatchers (Braden), gulls, and perhaps more than anything, “shorbs.”

**A flock of Western Sandpipers at Point Reyes during my September visit to California with Scott Callow.**

When out scanning beaches or shallow lakes, the most common phrase Braden repeats to me is “Shorebirds are tough.” This usually happens when I am whining about the difficulty in distinguishing between off-season Least and Semipalmated Sandpipers, or White-rumped and Baird’s Sandpipers—especially at a distance. But many shorbs are relatively easy to identify, and over the years both Braden and I have come to appreciate—nay, savor—the entire breadth of these fascinating, superbly adapted critters. Imagine my joy, then, when a brand new, beautifully photographed book about shorebirds arrived on my doorstep: Pete Dunne’s and Kevin T. Karlson’s The Shorebirds of North America: A Natural History and Photographic Celebration (Princeton University Press, 2024).

*The Shorebirds of North America* by Pete Dunne and Kevin T. Karlson (Princeton University Press, 2024)

To say that The Shorebirds of North America is ambitious would be like calling the 18,000-mile round-trip migration of a Red Knot “neat” instead of “epic” or “mind-blowing.” This terrific addition to birding literature not only gives a wonderful overview of the lives of shorebirds, it provides specific accounts of all the shorebirds likely to interest you. That makes this book a wonderful, highly readable reference for both beginning and advanced birders.

The bulk of the book consists of species accounts of 52 kinds of shorebirds known to breed in North America and my guess is that you, like me, will skip directly to species that happen to interest you at the present time. This is a great approach. One of the first shorebirds I looked up was Black-bellied Plover, a bird I have become more and more enthralled with the past several years. As I started to read, my understanding of this handsome creature immediately swelled. I didn’t realize, for instance, that it is one of the world’s most widely distributed shorebirds, or that it is called Grey Plover outside of North America. What really tickled me was learning how fearlessly aggressive these birds can be:

“On the high Arctic tundra breeding grounds,” the authors write, “this sturdy plover is a fierce protector of its large nest area, and it strikes fear into aerial predators as large as gulls and jaegers. Woe to any flying predator if it hears the whistled alarm call of Black-bellied Plover as it flies swift and low across the tundra before rising to spear the intruder in the belly with its strong bill . . .”

The 4-letter breeding code for Black-bellied Plovers is BBPL. After reading the entry for the bird in *The Shorebirds of North America*, however, I realized that BBPL could easily stand for “Bad-ass-bellied Plover”.

Who knew that one of my favorite birds is such a bad-ass? Similarly delightful “reveals” can be found in each account, many of them based on the authors’ own personal and scientific experiences with the birds.

Far from just being pretty to look at, the book’s incredible photos add real understanding of each species by showing them in a variety of plumages and situations. I enjoyed just quizzing myself on the photos as I made my way through the book, testing and expanding my knowledge as I went. I cannot imagine the effort Kevin T. Karlson and the book’s other photographers invested in creating what may be the world’s finest collection of shorebird photos.

Another thing I learned from *The Shorebirds of North America* is that the bills of oystercatchers are laterally compressed. You can’t tell this from the typical side view, but this compression turns the bills into excellent chisels for prying limpets, snails, and chitons off of rocks.

As delightful as the species accounts are, I strongly urge readers to read the entire first section straight through. In this section, the authors provide excellent perspective on all shorebirds including their remarkable adaptations, habits, diversity, and evolution. Fascinating anecdotes abound, such as the story of B-95, a banded Red Knot known to have traveled more than 400,000 miles during his 21-year lifetime. The authors don’t bother to hide their admiration for these birds:

“Challenged to design the perfect bird, we would without hesitancy delve into ranks of shorebirds and reach down to the Scolopacidae (sandpipers), the largest of the roughly six or seven family groups in the shorebird order Charadriiformes.”

Another fascinating fact I picked up from *The Shorebirds of North America* is that the curved bills of Long-billed Curlews are almost perfectly designed to snatch fiddler crabs from their long, curved burrows. They’re also great for picking off grasshoppers without alerting them to their imminent doom.

I could keep singing this book’s praises, but really, if you have even the tiniest, nascent interest in shorebirds, you should order a copy yourself. Given its length and full-color format, I expected the book to sell for at least fifty or sixty bucks, but at the time of this posting it can be had for a bargain $35. That puts it within reach of most people—and makes it an investment in your birding future you won’t regret.

One-Sentence Summary: A highly-readable, indispensable resource for both beginning and advanced shorebird enthusiasts.

Overall Rating (on a scale of cool birds): Piping Plover (highest)

You can order The Shorebirds of North America from your local independent bookstore, or directly from Princeton University Press. Please tell them we sent you!

(Except for the cover image, photos in this post are copyright Sneed B. Collard III. Review copy of The Shorebirds of North America provided by the publisher.)

In Search of the Marbled Murrelet (Birding Victoria, Part II)

4 Replies

After three nights in Victoria (see last week’s post “Birding Victoria, BC”), Amy and I headed up the Vancouver Island coast toward a spot where we had spent our first nights together as married folk—a lovely establishment called the Point No Point Resort. On the way up, I bamboozled Amy into stopping at one of the most well-known birding hotspots in the area: Whiffin Spit Park. As its rather humorous name implies, the park is a narrow spit of land stretching about a kilometer across the mouth of the bay where the town of Sooke is located, and it has recorded an impressive list of birds.

**Whiffin Spit is perhaps the most well-known place to observe ocean and shore birds between Victoria and Port Renfrew. Alas, the many free-roaming pet dogs makes it less than ideal for shorbs.**

As Amy walked ahead, I schlepped my scope, zooming in on anything promising. Over the next hour, I found Red-breasted Mergansers, more Harlequin Ducks (Yay!), Surf Scoters, Common Loons, and most exciting, a pair of Pacific Loons. Along the path, I also got excellent looks at Black Oystercatchers and Black Turnstones. Alas, the numerous unleashed dogs did not create a bird-friendly environment, and chased off the birds several times. (Our dog, Lola, by the way, informed me that she would never engage in such unruly behavior—cough, cough.)

The longer we stayed on Vancouver Island, the more Pacific Loons I got to see. I have learned to identify these handsome birds by their silvery heads and neck postures, which remind me of cobras ready to strike. Up close, the dark “chin strap” is also diagnostic.

Despite these good birds, I had by now firmly set my mind on seeing alcids, a group of sea birds affectionately dubbed the penguins of the northern hemisphere. These birds include murres, guillemots, Razorbills, Dovekies, and puffins, but the ones I most wanted to see were murrelets. Two kinds frequented the area: Ancient and Marbled. My new birder friend John (see this recent post) had told me that Ancient Murrelets tended to fly around in groups while Marbled Murrelets were most often observed as loners floating on the surface. Either species would be a lifer for me, and I would have been ecstatic to find one. Alas, the task was proving much more difficult than I had hoped. I totally struck out in Victoria, and now I “whiffed” at Whiffin Spit, too.

Perhaps my best photo ever of an adult Common Merganser, hanging out on the bay side of Whiffin Spit with an equally stunning female.

The Point No Point Resort helped ease my disappointment. The cabins and rooms are all cleverly designed for privacy and each looks out over the spectacular Strait of Juan de Fuca (part of the Salish Sea). The sun was setting by the time we checked in—just time for me to set up my spotting scope and find a raft of about forty Surf Scoters floating below us. They would become regular companions of our stay. I also noted a few cormorants and other birds, but alas, no alcids.

**Our room at the Point No Point not only offered a mesmerizing view of the Olympic Peninsula across the water, but a chance to scope for more seabirds.**

Undaunted, I rose the next morning to hit two nearby spots that had been recommended as great seabird locations: Otter Point and Muir Creek. The birding gods seemed stubbornly pitted against me. I saw a few more loons, including my first Red-throated Loon, along with my first Pacific Wren and a dozen or so species I’d been seeing for the past few days, but nothing that really got my heart racing.

**At Muir Creek, I was pleased to get an actual look at a Pacific Wren. Amy and I heard them several other times, but the birds like their privacy!**

This pattern repeated itself for the next couple of days as Amy and I explored several more places between Sooke and Port Renfrew. Honestly, the birds that most excited me were Short-billed Gulls (formerly Mew Gulls)—birds that I had never seen in such numbers, and had only recently become skilled at identifying myself.

Gulls are notoriously difficult to identify—something I’ll tackle in an upcoming post—but the Short-billed Gull stands out for its smaller size, yellow legs, and overall “cuteness,” as Braden puts it. In breeding, its bill lacks any kind of marking, though as you can see in this photo, adults sport a faint ring at other times of the year.

Before we knew it, we arrived back at the Point No Point for our last luxurious evening of watching the sea and enjoying the view of the Olympic Peninsula across the water. As we prepared to soak in our private hot tub, though, I picked up my cool new binoculars (see our last post) for one final look at the ocean below us. In the rapidly fading light, I spotted our loyal raft of Surf Scoters, along with gulls and cormorants. Then, I noted a tiny speck in the breaking waves close to shore, and quickly focused in on it. I guessed it was a piece of kelp or driftwood, but then, through the lenses, the unlikely shape of a bird emerged!

My heart accelerating, I frantically set up the scope which lay at my feet and zoomed in on the shape. “No friggin’ way!” I exclaimed. Honestly, I didn’t know exactly what I was looking it, but I felt sure I hadn’t seen it before. I was also sure I needed some photos, no matter how crummy, so I switched out my scope for my camera on the tripod, and captured a few quick images through our windows before, to my disappointment, the bird drifted out of view behind some trees.

By this time, after a quick consult with my Sibley app, I felt positive that the tiny bird had indeed been a murrelet, but which kind? Studying my horrible photos and comparing them to Sibley, I noted the white patches on the shoulders and near the tail. That ruled out Ancient Murrelet. I also checked the illustrations for all the other alcids that might be in the area. Only one matched my photos: Marbled Murrelet! Even better, ten minutes later the bird reappeared below our window. By now, the light had grown truly dim, but I took my tripod and camera out onto the deck and managed some slightly better shots.

My fellow birders can imagine how that one bird pretty much made the entire trip for me. Everything else was just lovely, too, but a Marbled Murrelet? That put the icing on the cake, or for me, the chocolate chips in the cookie. It also sent my imagination racing, seeing that tiny bird deftly negotiate the waves crashing into shore. It was just so comfortable in an environment that would have snuffed me out in a matter of minutes.

Marbled Murrelets defy the imagination for another reason. Unlike other alcids, they nest not in burrows or on cliffs, but in trees! In fact, the nesting location of this bird remained a great ornithological mystery for more than a century as biologists looked everywhere (but not in the tops of trees, evidently) for a Marbled Murrelet nest. “Finally,” recounts Cornell Lab’s Birds of the World, “in 1961 and 1974, the first verified and published nests were reported in Asia and North America, respectively.”

Amazing.

Unfortunately, the birds prefer old-growth coastal forest, forests that have experienced extreme logging pressures over the past century. The birds have also been impacted by fishing gear, forest fires, and other hazards. As a result, the bird is listed as endangered or threatened throughout its North American range. That made it all the more remarkable that one had deigned to show up right below our picture window—almost as if following some kind of cosmic movie script. I felt very fortunate.

**Yay! More Harlequin Ducks! During our last session at Clover Point, these stunning birds really put on a show, chasing each other around and posing for one visiting birder.**

The next day, Amy and I returned to Victoria and another round of birding at Clover Point—my best session there yet. Pacific Loons, Buffleheads, Harlequin Ducks, and Surf Scoters seemed to be everywhere, and I was thrilled to find a pair of immaculately-feathered Long-tailed Ducks far out on the water. Though we would not head home until the following day, it was a great way to wrap up a trip that proved delightfully unexpected in so many ways. Huge gratitude goes to my wife and partner, Amy, for giving me such a wonderful surprise. And now, it was time for us to go celebrate with stiff umbrella drinks and a plate full of chicken enchiladas.

Bird of the Day honors for our last day in Victoria went to these Long-tailed Ducks. Adult male LTDUs (left) are especially striking in full plumage, and I at first assumed that the one on the right was a female. The rich brown back and bold, well-defined white face patch, however, suggests a first-year male.

Our Favorite Bird Books for the Holidays

4 Replies

In our last post, we detailed where to buy bird-related books. For our 200^th post (gasp), we’d like to share some of our favorite bird books. We are by no means attempting to be comprehensive and we apologize to the many fine authors and books we didn’t have space to include. When it comes to holiday shopping especially, however, we realize that “less is more” so we’ve limited ourselves to the books that first soar to mind. Note that we haven’t gone crazy on the hyper-links here, but recommend just calling your local indie bookstore and placing an order (see our last post). Any of these books can also be ordered from Buteo Books or from a certain not-to-be-named e-commerce giant. Please feel free to share this post with friends and others in desperate need of holiday gift ideas!

Field Guides

There are so many field guides available that your head will spin considering them. Braden and I have enjoyed field guides by Peterson, National Geographic, Kenn Kaufman, and many other sources. The one we return to again and again, however, is The Sibley Guide to Birds, Second Edition. While many other guides seem cramped or present information in a difficult-to-use format, Sibley strikes the right balance with generous, uncluttered illustrations and to-the-point identification information and range maps. If you’re going to buy one guide for the US and Canada, this is the one. Note that if you need field guides for specific countries or regions, you often won’t have a great deal to choose from. Our first stop is usually Princeton University Press, which seems to have field guides for many of the world’s regions (see our last post).

“How To” Guides for Beginners

I swear, I wasn’t going to include my own book near the front here, but it logically follows field guides. Especially when it comes to buying a gift for the beginning birder, you can’t beat Birding for Boomers—And Everyone Else Brave Enough to Embrace the World’s Most Rewarding and Frustrating Activity. Here’s a recent review from Foreward Reviews: “Because the book is aimed at new birders, it includes advice about what kinds of binoculars to consider, what clothing and equipment to use, the value of a good field guidebook, and useful online resources. Its guidance is casual, often relayed with light humor and embellished by personal anecdotes. Challenges specific to boomers factor into its advice on birding with hearing, eyesight, and mobility challenges, and into its considerations for those on fixed incomes. It also makes important points about safety for nonwhite and LGBTQ+ birders. With its ranging approach and easy-to-follow advice, Birding for Boomers is a handy guide for all those—boomer or otherwise—who are looking to pick up an ornithological hobby.” Click here to order!

Birding Road Trip Books

We’re going to stick with two classics here. The first is Wild America: The Legendary Story of Two Great Naturalists on the Road by Roger Tory Peterson and James Fisher. This really is required—and enjoyable—reading for those working on a life list or doing a Big Year, or anyone wanting to educate herself on the history of birding in the United States. Our second choice is Kenn Kaufman’s irresistible Kingbird Highway: The Biggest Year in the Life of an Extreme Birder. This was one of the first birding books Braden and I read and it is still one of our favorites, recounting the passions and pursuits of someone who just couldn’t help but chase and learn about birds. If you need to add a third title to this list, we wouldn’t complain if you picked up Warblers & Woodpeckers: A Father-Son Big Year of Birding!

Natural History and Science

This category could fill several blogs, but we’ll keep it brief except to say that you must read all of the books below—and they all make great gifts for anyone remotely interested in nature.

Where Song Began: Australia’s Birds and How They Changed the World by Tim Low: highly entertaining, it will change the way you think about birds.

A Most Remarkable Creature: The Hidden life and Epic Journey of the World’s Smartest Birds of Prey by Jonathan Meiburg: a fascinating account of one of our favorite groups of birds, caracaras.

Far From Land: The Mysterious Lives of Seabirds by Michael Brooke: a wonderful account of birds most of us want to spend more time with—but, sadly, never will.

Hard to Categorize—But Read Anyway

The Ravenmaster: My Life with the Ravens at the Tower of London by Christopher Skaife. The title says it all, but doesn’t come close to reflecting just how entertaining and fascinating this book is!

Imperial Dreams: Tracking the Imperial Woodpecker Through the Wild by Tim Gallagher. This book provides a captivating blend of adventure and natural history, following a small group’s dedicated efforts to find a species that now is almost certainly extinct—but just might not be!

The Falcon Thief: A True Tale of Adventure, Treachery and the Hunt for the Perfect Bird by Joshua Hammer. A fascinating look at the world of falcon and egg poaching.

And One More for Montanans

If you really want to buy something special for your Montana birder or birding family, take the plunge on Birds of Montana by Jeffrey S. Marks, Paul Hendricks, and Daniel Casey. This remarkable volume summarizes just about everything that is known about more than 400 Montana resident, migrant, and vagrant bird species. Rarely a week goes by when we don’t dive into this book to learn about a bird we’ve seen or have been thinking about. The book occupies a prominent place on our shelves and is a prized acquisition in our bird book library. Click the image below to order.

**A wonderful compendium of information about birds living in, frequenting, or just visiting Montana. As an author, I reference it constantly.**

Least Terns and Black-and-White Warblers: Birding Medicine Lake to Makoshika

4 Replies

Welcome to the fifth installment of Braden’s and my remarkable 2024 Eastern Montana Odyssey. With this episode, and more than 1,000 miles under our belts, we round the halfway mark of our trip, approaching brand-new birding territory for us. Before that, however, we had some truly remarkable birding at past favorite birding sites. If you are enjoying these episodes, please share them with your birding friends and consider supporting our efforts by buying a *NEW* copy or two of one of Sneed’s books on the right.

After two fascinating, fulfilling days in Westby (see our last post), Braden and I were primed to tackle the next stage of our Eastern Montana safari. We’d already had some amazingly packed grassland birding experiences, so I have to admit I wasn’t as excited about Medicine Lake National Wildlife Refuge as I should have been. Part of that may be because last year, my pal Scott and I were turned back from the refuge by thick, slippery mud (aka “gumbo”). In any case, my bad attitude proved to be way off the mark, as Medicine Lake delivered one of our best grassland birding days ever.

**At Medicine Lake, Braden counted 67, say it loud, SIXTY-SEVEN Grasshopper Sparrows!**

Our visit began promisingly when Braden IDed an Alder Flycatcher by its distinctive “free beer” call right near the (closed) visitor’s center. What unfolded afterward was nothing less than a full-on showcase of grassland birds. Over the next nine miles, Braden recorded approximately 75 Chestnut-collared Longspurs, 67 Grasshopper Sparrows, 9 Clay-colored Sparrows, 6 Baird’s Sparrows and much, much more. He detected many of these by song, of course, but longspurs and sparrows were literally flying up everywhere around our car in some sections. As Braden noted in our eBird list: “Ridiculous.”

**One of our better looks at Sharp-tailed Grouse in recent years was one of many delights at Medicine Lake NWR.**

Not to be outdone, impressive numbers of waterfowl and game birds, including three Sharp-tailed Grouse, clamored to get on our eBird list. Surprisingly, so did a number of shorebirds. Where the road threaded two ponds, four White-rumped Sandpipers landed, giving us our closest looks of the entire trip. Here, we also saw eleven birds we desperately wanted to find—Red-necked Phalaropes. It’s lucky we did, too, since they would be the only RNPHs of our expedition.

**After spending days poring through flocks of Wilson’s Phalaropes, we finally located a group of 11 Red-necked Phalaropes at Medicine Lake.** **Even better, they were in their uber-handsome breeding plumages.**

Our Medicine Lake checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S180177051

On our way down to Glendive, we stopped at Culbertson Bridge for a modest 21 species, and then turned right down a dirt road. “What are we doing here?” I asked Braden. “There are supposed to be Least Terns nesting on sandbars in the Missouri River,” he told me. Okay, I admit it, Least Terns were totally off my radar and, honestly, I’m not sure I realized they even nested in Montana. Sure enough, they do. There are five subspecies of Least Terns, and Montana’s belong to the “Interior” group. Unfortunately, this group is federally endangered due to its small population, habitat loss, and disturbance by recreational activities. Only about fifty are thought to live in Montana.

Several miles down the road, I pulled over at a spot overlooking several large sand islands in the river. We scanned them with our binoculars. Zippo. At that point, I was ready to move on, but Braden decided to put in the extra effort of setting up our spotting scope, even though he also thought we were out of luck.

“I see them!” he suddenly shouted.

**A distant view of some of Montana’s rarest birds, Least Terns. In the nation’s interior, these birds nest on sand islands in the middle of large rivers.**

Indeed, almost impossible to see with the naked eye or through binoculars, two were sitting there blending in perfectly with the sand. As we watched, we saw two more for a total of four—probably the rarest birds we would see on the entire trip! More excitement was yet to come.

**We were still squinting when we took this photo—after squinting at the sand island in the background to see four of Montana’s handful of Least Terns. Squint and you might be able to see them, too!**

After a great late breakfast-for-lunch at Sunny’s diner in Sidney, we made it to Glendive, where we checked into a motel. After resting up a bit, we embarked on our final bird outing of this already-packed day—to Makoshika State Park.

Scott and I had a great time in Makoshika last year watching Field Sparrows and Rock Wrens, and as we entered the park, Braden and I also picked up both species. We had another agenda, however: finding Black-and-White Warblers. Predominantly an Eastern species, these handsome little birds are known to breed in Montana, but the only other one we’d ever seen was right here in Makoshika on a trip with Nick Ramsey in 2017. Dutifully, Braden and I hiked the same trail to see if we could find another one.

**Even without birds, the badlands scenery at Makoshika State Park is some of Montana’s most dramatic.**

Nope. Worse, the hike wore me out after our extremely long day. Still, we had one more place to check—a campground way up on top of the hills with spectacular views of the surrounding badlands. We parked, got out, and began looking around. As usual, I was fairly skeptical of finding one, but then Braden’s ears perked up: “I think I hear one.”

We scrambled down a fairly steep slope until Braden stopped and looked up into a tree. “There it is!”

Elated, we both quickly got our binoculars on it, and I even took some crummy photos. After that, we just slowly followed this amazing, improbable little bird as it searched for insects on one tree, then another. By this time, the sun had started to sink low in the West, and standing there watching this bird created a sublime experience—one of those memorable moments that makes birding the best activity on earth.

Finding this Black-and-White Warbler at Makoshika was a powerful testament to perseverance in searching for uncommon birds. Much like nuthatches, these birds often hang upside down or point downward as they rapidly search tree trunks and branches for unsuspecting insects.

Eastern Odyssey 2024: Return to Westby

3 Replies

Our fourth post about our epic 2024 eastern Montana expedition takes us to the birding mecca of Westby. Over the years, Westby has grown an outsized reputation in the imaginations of Montana birders. To find out why, read on—and don’t forget to check out Sneed’s newest picture book, Like No Other—Earth’s Coolest One-of-a-Kind Creatures by clicking on the image to the right!

After, to be honest, a pretty disappointing time in Plentywood (see last our last post), Braden and I continued our Eastern Montana Odyssey 2024 by driving twenty-six miles to a place that has obtained almost mythical status among Montana birders: Westby. Westby sits in the very northeastern corner of the state and has long been known as a place where eastern songbirds clip Montana on their way to northern breeding grounds. Some fool cut down some of the best bird habitat there a few years ago, before Braden and I ever visited, but birders still discover rarities such as Mourning Warblers, Black-throated Green Warblers, and Rose-breasted Grosbeaks every year. The bad news? Braden and I were about two weeks late to have a serious shot at anything like that. The good news? We still had a great chance to see migrating shorebirds.

**Westby literally straddles the North Dakota border, making it a go-to destination for birders hoping to snag rare migrants for their Montana life lists.**

We arrived early and decided not even to waste time looking for songbirds right away. Instead, we immediately drove north out of town toward a series of pothole lakes well known for shorebirds. Changes in water levels can be shocking out here year to year, and I quickly saw with dismay that one pond that had brimmed with water during my visit with my pal Scott Callow last year had gone bone dry. Fortunately, another pond with just a brief window of visibility did have water. “Shorebirds!” I shouted. We broke out the spotting scope and did our best to ID what was out there. Sanderlings could be made out by their distinct dark red heads and boldly black legs and bills. More exciting, we were able to ID Semipalmated Sandpipers and a species we hadn’t seen in Montana for four years, White-rumped Sandpipers.

**This is about as close as we got to a White-rumped Sandpiper, but you can see a distinctive ID feature—the dark spots stretching down its side under the wings. Sanderlings are feeding behind it.**

As we continued to explore, we got better looks at all of these birds in various places, along with Wilson’s Phalaropes, Willets, and Marbled Godwits. One bird high on our list was Nelson’s Sparrow, and at a little marshy area right next to the road, Braden was able to hear one, though my crummy hearing once again thwarted me.

**A Marbled Godwit checked us out as we were scoping other shorebirds.**

We continued to explore the rest of the day, both driving north and south of town and even making a foray across the border into North Dakota, where we picked up a respectable 23 species in a couple of miles. A wonderful development in Westby is a new AirBnB about fifty yards from the border and I had reserved it for two nights. That evening, I took a stroll through town to see what could be seen. No rare warblers, but I did have a lovely visit with a Brown Thrasher and gobs of American Goldfinches feeding on spilled grain next to the grain elevators looming over the north end of town. When I returned, a Say’s Phoebe was sitting on our house!

Thanks to our rented house, we hit the streets of Westby early the next morning. Again, no rare songbirds, but we did see a couple of Swainson’s Thrushes, along with Orchard Orioles and Purple Martins as part of our 22-bird list. Once again, our best surprises popped up as we explored surrounding areas. Venturing north we got great, close looks at the shorebirds we’d seen before, with a soundtrack of Wilson’s Snipe and Soras—one right next to the car—filling the air. Braden identified a Ferruginous Hawk flying overhead and we heard two Baird’s Sparrows and even a Sprague’s Pipit! Braden picked up at least four Nelson’s Sparrows and one popped up right next to our car, giving us our best look ever. Range maps don’t even show that Nelson’s reach into Montana, so this is a great place for birders to pick them up for their Montana life lists!

**With few people on the roads, this Wilson’s Snipe took time to check out what we were up to.**

Still, the “catch” of the morning happened as we were skirting Round Lake. Ever since arriving, we had kept our eyes sharp for one particular shorebird. This morning as I drove, Braden suddenly yelled, “Stop!” We quickly got our eyes on it and then set up our spotting scope. It was none other than a Piping Plover! I had seen my Montana lifer PIPL last year with my buddy Scott, but this was Braden’s Montana lifer. Even better, there were two—one stalking another with obviously amorous intentions.

**I think that Piping Plover on the left should be looking over its shoulder, don’t you?**

North America has three distinct breeding populations of Piping Plovers: one in the Northeast, one in and around the Great Lakes, and one on the northern Great Plains. The world total population may have dropped to as low as 3,000 pairs, but the Great Lakes and Northeast populations have apparently been making a comeback. Montana, is home to a breeding population of perhaps 1-200 pairs of these delightful birds, but the outlook for the northern plains population may not be as rosy as it is for the Northeastern population. Frequent drought (exacerbated by climate change), poor water management practices, pesticides, and an increase of predators make its future dicey. Still, this near-threatened bird is hanging on and our fingers are crossed that some better management practices will also help it increase.

**We got an amazing number of great Bobolink photo opportunities on the trip, including this one south of Westby.**

**This Baird’s Sparrow popped up on the fence while we were scoping a brand new lake south of town.**

In the trip’s spirit of birding new places, we decided to head down a new road south of town. We had low expectations, but soon encountered a lake with lush green grasses surrounding it. We got out to scope the lake and discovered at least 250 Sanderlings out on a sand bar. It is while we were scoping that we got our biggest surprises, however. Grassland birds just kept popping up on the barbed wire fence to check us out or perch on plants very close to us. During the next forty or fifty minutes, we got incredible looks at Bobolinks, Baird’s Sparrows, Chestnut-collared Longspurs, Grasshopper Sparrows, Clay-colored Sparrows, Horned Larks, and of course, Savannah and Vesper Sparrows. Every time we looked up, there was another great bird not fifty feet away. It truly was one of the coolest things we’ve ever experienced—and was a great reminder to keep taking the road not birded!